Warlords Can Disappear in Smoke

As a fairly consistently neutral-evil character, I am largely against concentrated power of any kind. For Boccob's sake, have yourself a holdfast or a keep or even a small duchy, but once that control starts to move beyond an easy horse ride, it is getting a little too close to lawful evil for my taste. If I wanted to live in The Horned Society, I would move there.

Yet, there is always some pretender to some throne, orc possessed by a magic glove, magic user who uses hallucinatory terrain to hide their grand ambition, greedy blue dragon, or particularly nasty eye tyrant that wants to keep expanding their domain in a misguided quest for power, wealth, fame, or supposed safety. You know what makes you safe, Gracknor Elfgrinder? Not wanting to have a orc kingdom? Be content with a cave complex. That still doesn't satisfy your interest in commanding legions or having serfs? Then head on up to the Pomarj and see what you can get there. I hear all kinds of orcs hang out there. But as soon as Mr. Elfgrinder wants to start ruling over a couple hex wide territory, you can be sure that I am brushing off my trusty crossbow of speed, sword +1, +3 against humanoids, and calling in a few favors with the local assassin's guild to make sure that Gracknor eats steel.

Keep Greyhawk decentralized is my motto. It isn't really, but it could be. I don't need any place called the Great Kingdom telling me what to do. The true road to power, wealth, fame, and safety lies in dungeon crawling.   

"The Psychedelic Warlords (Disappear in Smoke)" opens up Hall of the Mountain Grill, the fourth Hawkwind album. In case you, as listener, didn't know that Hawkwind was interested in space, the album cover should be a pretty good indication.