Welcome back to the world of Berth, that wonderous place of hilarious adventure, magical mayhem, cheeky shenanigans and…well, you get the idea. You’ve returned, have you not? Yada, yada, and all that sort of thing.

Digression.

So back to Elsewhere, that mythical-ish pub of some renown where legends are often not born, but forged from complete insanity and general, overall awkwardness. Just ask Percival Pratchet, who will likely have a song to sing and a thumb to bite in your general direction. But this tale isn’t about a plucky bard school drop-out this time. No, this tale delves into something far more wicked and sinister, of a being with vast and great power who revels in the ways of the wicked and oft the wonky.

Well, at least he did until he goofed and made a mess of things.

Enter Bartameus the Blackheart, demon lord from a level or two of hell. A connoisseur of mayhem, a purveyor of violence, a sucker for a good time, Bartameus has made his way to Berth and the kingdom of Bussington, where he plans to unleash his wickedness near and far to stave off the growing boredom swelling within his black heart. Guided by his fury and hatred of inept minions, Bartameus throws caution to the wind as he carves a rather weird and sordid name for himself. Demons are a cheeky and unpredictable lot, you see. But his quest goes horribly awry when the demon lord, in his anger and frustration, frustrates Death herself. And now nothing is how it should be for the demon lord as he faces the proverbial music, whether he wants to or not.

Ultimately changed, Bartameus is forced to walk a righteous path if he wishes to ever be wicked again. To make matters worse, he has been administered the worst of afflictions, feelings and the like, which is bad juju as far as demon lords are concerned. Now an instrument of good, Bartameus is forced to face his destiny as well as his former cohorts who are more than mildly inconvenienced by the whole affair. Good or ill, the demon lord will have to carve his own way through a journey that promises to be wildly wicked.

And probably weird.

Hells, it’s always weird.

Always.