You are the most feared Warlord of the Seven peaks, the small woman infront of you informs you in a hushed tone. This seems true, judging from the leatherclad psychos braying what is ostensably your name - oh, and the flayed skulls.

This is strange, because 30 minutes ago you left work - an office job, boring - went into a normal doctors office for extremely minor surgery. Now you're the leader of the "ExecuKillers" according to the woman (who also informed you she's your concubine).

"So... Lord of Skulls..." You frown, and she smiles slightly. "Sorry, Nigel. Right. So..." she looks over her shoulder at the tent-flap, beyond which you can hear the drums of war and bellowing hores of warriros - your warrirors, now.
"This, uh, incident... well, bad timing. The Execukillers are about to go to war with the Bloodletters... and you need to rile them up. Quickly, too, because everyone's ready to leave."

[Continued below.]