A towering demon lord with obsidian-black skin, massive curved ram horns, and glowing crimson eyes sits cross-legged on a rocky plateau overlooking a ruined medieval town, his enormous clawed hands resting on his knees, each finger thicker than a tree trunk. Below him, hundreds of terrified tiny villagers, no bigger than his fingernails, scramble between burning wooden houses, some pointing up at his face with pitchforks, others fleeing toward a tiny stone cathedral whose spire barely reaches his shin. A small army of miniature knights on horseback charges toward his left foot, their lances looking like toothpicks against his scaly toes. He holds a single crushed castle tower between his thumb and forefinger, examining it with a bored, mocking smirk, his forked tongue flicking out. Thick smoke from smoldering haystacks rises to his waist level, and a tiny dragon, no larger than a sparrow, flaps frantically near his ear, breathing a pathetic puff of flame. Storm clouds swirl behind his horned head, lightning illuminating the sheer cliff face where his massive tail drapes down, casting a shadow that blankets half the town below.
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