![]() ![]() ![]() Surely, if I were to recapture this so-called "Tower Heart", I could jump to any point in the kingdom I wanted. He says that the portal is missing the Tower Heart, but there is enough dark essence left over to transport me to its last known location. He calls it the Tower Portal, but all I see is a pool of grimy water. Gnarl directs my attention to a pool of grimy water. Does that sound like something a true "champion of justice" would do? I do not think so. Bastards also destroyed most of the walls in this place. The last ruler of this tower met a grisly end at the hands of some fool trying to make a name for themselves. When was the last time some dim-witted hero came in to challenge me to a so-called " final duel". There still seems to be something missing, though. The cold stone of this decrepit tower is the way I like it. Having fallen asleep for so many years has made me forget what it is like to sit down. It is time for me to return to my throne. Another charge from my goblins later, and the jester admits defeat. If only I were a few meters closer, I would rip it out of his scrawny little body. The jester is running scared, but refuses to stow his tongue. Which one is it, you old fool? Keep them here or send them out? Choose one and stick with it! ![]() Gnarl wants me to call them back, but then he orders me to use a technique called "sweeping", to help my minions attack targets from long distances. Their strokes are a little wild, but the jester seems to be genuinely scared of them. I hold my hand out again and send the goblins to silence this fool. The coward has crossed over a marble pillar and removed himself from reach of my righteously wicked smitings. Jester: "Come on, princess! You move like a dead badger! Shame you don't smell as good." Perhaps I should keep an eye on him so that my mighty axe does not lose sight of him as his blood spills. Gnarl: "Evil is not something you just forget." A few swats with my axe shall put him in his place. He appears to not have any sense of self-respect or self-loathing. This foolish goblin that stands before me is wearing a jester's cap. Gnarl: "I can hear the land quaking with fear already." We shall put them to the test to see if they are worthy, and if not, I can always spawn replacements. They are all carrying clubs made of wood, but I am not sure they are aware that they can use them. I hold my hand out, and three brown goblins leap out and come to me. I will need as much help as I can to take over this miserable kingdom. Gnarl says that I can summon minions from it. We arrive in a chamber, which includes a glowing pit with a number hovering above it. I did not ask for his name, but he gave it to me anyway.and now he expects me to follow him. Their names are not important, for they are likely to die in droves anyway. I am awakened from my slumber by a small pack of goblins. It just so happened that mine began while I was sleeping. But enough talk! The time has come to recount the events that led to my conquest.Įvery man's tale must begin somewhere. I am simply the Overlord, and that is all you need to know. I should remember not to kill her the next time I decide to plunder and pillage. I am told a woman who goes by the name of Rhianna Pratchett is the one mainly responsible for writing my epic story. They call this tale Overlord: Raising Hell. The slaves at Codemasters and Triumph Studios were.fortunate enough to create a.what is it you people call it."video game" detailing my rise to power. ![]()
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