A/N: I do not own Overlord series, I only own my original characters and designs.

Chapter 01:

"Careful with that, these artefacts are priceless," the old man warned his young companion while climbing the stairs. The young man simply sighed heavily, for at least the twentieth time since they had began.

"I thought you wanted just a little help, this is going to take all afternoon," Thomas said in a tired tone of voice. He had come to visit his uncle after receiving an invitation for this weekend, promising free time to enjoy the beach and some pocket money for a few simple chores. He had thought it would be over in half an hour or so, but they had already spent close to an hour carrying these boxes.

"I didn't expect them all to arrive at once, what can I say, I'm sure glad you are here to help," the old man replied mirthfully. Thomas drew another deep breath and sighed once more, nodding his head in defeat. He had already agreed to help carry them all in, but he hoped it would soon be over. There were only a few more boxes in the back of the truck, but some of them might be too heavy even for the two of them.

Entering his uncle's private study, Thomas lowered his end of the large box down while the spry old man set his own down a little after Thomas. Wiping his brow with his shirt's sleeve, the young man couldn't help but wonder if he was really that badly out of shape. He hadn't ever thought about it that much but his uncle was pushing sixty and moved the boxes without breaking a sweat while Thomas felt like taking a long hot shower already.

"Its just a couple more, come on," the old man chuckled while gesturing for Thomas to follow him to get the next one. With a groan leaving his lips, the young man did, deciding to just get it over with.

It took them just twenty minutes more, but in that time, he felt he had worn himself out. His body ached in protest, reminding him that he had not worked out like that in a while. Thomas anticipated that the next morning he would wake up feeling even worse, but if the chores he had to do were like this he would be in a lot better shape by the end of this vacation, or he might be in a hospital with a broken back.

Gulping down some water as he listened to the sound of the truck leaving the frontyard the young man's attention turned from the glass he was holding and the noise outside towards the gathering of large wooden crates and boxes that his uncle's priceless artefacts had arrived in. Most of it was just plain garbage in his opinion, but he had given up trying to convince the old man of that. The guy had enough money to buy this without worrying about the price anyway, so Thomas wasn't too concerned.

After all that work he did feel like he deserved a peek of what his uncle had acquired this time however, and seeing the familiar tool leaning to a wall nearby, he walked over to pick up the crowbar. Casting a look at the various boxes he felt one of them seemed to draw his interest over and over again. A fairly small box that had nonetheless been quite heavy. Unlike the others it was resting on his uncle's desk and not in a pile at the other end of the room, so he figured it would be the jewel of this collection.

"Alright, lets see what you are hiding," Thomas told the box with a joking tone of voice, trying to shake off his nervousness. He wasn't usually this interested in his uncle's collection, but today he felt he had earned the right to this much curiosity. The wood creaked as the old nails were pulled loose, and the lid gave in. Lifting it off, he saw a metal gauntlet resting amidst packaging materials, a dark gemstone embedded in the middle of it.

His curiosity got the best of him, and Thomas lifted the gauntlet with care, looking it over amusedly. It was well made steel and quite thick, looking like it wouldn't break easily. The gemstone was firmly secured in place, though some little lines ran along the metal circle it was embedded into. Lifting the gauntlet for a moment, he decided to try it on for a moment.

The weight felt surprisingly light when he was wearing it, but at the same time, the gauntlet gave him a feeling of power. It was silly, he was nineteen already and beyond the age of playing like a kid, but he couldn't help but feel a little amused in wearing the sturdy piece of work. Even if it was a little odd, it seemed like an interesting find for his uncle's collection at least. Far better than some of the junk.

Looking at the gauntlet for a moment more Thomas then decided that the shower was long overdue. Humming to himself as he headed along the hallway, he paused to pick up a change of clothes and his towel from his bag before making his way to the bathroom. A little hot water and scrubbing and he'd feel good as new, or so he hoped at least.

As the shower door was closed and the sound of running water soon began a brief, nearly silent click sounded out as the front door of the house slowly opened. Gloved hand closed the door behind it, and the soft-bottomed shoes quietly made their way along the hallway. The steps were hurried but careful, though they relaxed a little at the sound of the shower running.

Looking around, the figure checked a few doorways before finding the study and the gathering of boxes. There wasn't too much time, and the intruder knew it. Looking around for the list he soon noticed it resting on one of the larger crates, searching the rows for what he had come for. Frowning as he flipped over a few pages in irritation the intruder sought what he wanted, nervous and hurried.

Box 49: Gauntlet of the Dark Tyrant. Excellent shape, restored with care. Previous owner deceased collector, sold by next of kin. Sighing with relief, the figure picked up the crowbar convieniently placed to rest against the nearby wall. The new owner had no doubt planned to start unpacking soon. The intruder smirked quietly at his luck, and turned to look for the box.

Just then the barking started, and the intruder turned in alarm to look at the study's doorway. A large grey mutt was staring at him and barking widely. So much for being lucky. Picking up the crowbar he glared at the mutt moving closer and holding the tool with confidence.

"Too bad for you. Come here you mangy mutt, I'm going to bash your brains in," the intruder said with a smile on his face and a gentle tone to his voice, figuring the mutt couldn't understand him anyway. Walking closer he held the tool up to strike, when the dog jumped and bit on his wrist, the teeth sinking into the glove and his arm painfully. Grimacing, the man shifted the crowbar to his other hand to strike, and strike again on the mutt to get it to let go.

"Hold it," another voice shouted, and the intruder grimaced looking at the doorway. The brat that had helped the old man move these things in was standing there wearing just a towel but holding a cellphone to his ear with the other hand. This wasn't good, not good at all. He'd have to dispose of the witness quickly.

"Its a burglar uncle, and he's hitting Baron," Thomas spoke to the cellphone hurriedly. He had called his uncle first on hearing some noise, but he had a grim feeling he should have called the cops. He had wanted to make sure it wasn't just the old dog barking at a squirrel though, but calling his uncle seemed like the best idea because the dog didn't listen to his voice, only his uncle's. Of course, he had not expected to come face to face with some gaunt man with the looks of a drug-addict.

"Call the police, I'm-" Thomas' eyes widened as the man struck the poor Baron's head with the crowbar hard enough to make the dog whimper and collapse, then charging right at him. Taking a couple of steps back he slammed the door shut, hearing the crowbar hitting the door with force. Not good, not good at all.

His uncle would make a call as the owner of the place, but that didn't mean he couldn't call as well and try and give the police a description. As he got to a run to the guest room he briefly wondered if that door had a lock. The study did, but unfortunately it would require a key to lock it as well. At the very least it had his clothes, and he had dropped the gauntlet there too before heading to the shower, having only realized he had taken it with him when he had reached the bedroom, so familiar it had already become on his arm.

Meanwhile the intruder glared at the now quiet dog's body before hurriedly turning his attention to the boxes. There were many, and there was so little time. He had to go after the brat but if he didn't grab the box he might have to run away without it even after dealing with the witness and after that it would be hard to return for it. Looking around frantically, he finally saw the box.

The damn thing was opened, its lid dropped to a chair behind the desk, the box itself dropped behind a pair of thick books that had kept it from his notice earlier. Someone had opened that box already, and he only needed one good guess as to who. Damn it all, this wasn't going as he had expected at all.

Pushing the door open the intruder rushed out following the wet footsteps on the floor easily enough for a moment, but as they faded there was only one closed, locked door in the hallway. Still holding the bloody crowbar, he hit the door with force. The decorative panelwood door cracked and the crowbar's tip pierced through. Hitting the door repeatedly, the intruder hacked a hole into it before reaching through to unlock the door.

The brat punched his arm with force, and that made him cry out in pain. Not because the brat was really that strong, but because the punch was delivered by a metal gauntlet. He was pretty sure there would be a serious bruise but he didn't think his arm was broken at least, moving the fingers quickly to unlock the door before shoving it wide open. Glaring at the brat with his crowbar held ready he grit his teeth together.

"Hand over the gauntlet boy and I won't kill you," he promised swiftly. He had to get out of here and after he had the gauntlet, it wouldn't matter even if the police got his description. He would be long gone. Though just for the sake of paying back for the trouble he had caused the intruder decided he'd bash the boy's brains in as well.

"The police is on its way, do you want to go to jail for breaking and entering or do you want to try and make it murder? Either way you aren't getting away, be smart and give up," Thomas tried to argue. While the young man wasn't hopeful this man would listen, he had to try, but if he was a drug addict he had to be ready. The gauntlet just might be enough to keep the man at bay with that crowbar, but if he handed it over he was as good as dead, he could tell that much just by looking at the crazed man's expression.

"I won't ask again, enjoy the pain," the man shouted and swung the crowbar at Thomas' face. His arm rose to block it, and the crowbar struck the gauntlet with a resounding clang. The black jewel within it began to suddenly shine, enveloping the two of them into a bright searing light. Thomas' cellphone fell as he screamed, but he heard the other man's voice rise in a scream as well. The impact had hurt his arm but what chilled him more was the feeling of his entire body trembling as if he had been electrocuted and set on fire, before it was replaced by a chill similar to being lowered to ice water.

Not that he knew how any of those felt like, they just felt the closest he could imagine to how it was at that moment. His whole body ached and protested, and he couldn't see anything anymore. He didn't hear anything either, other than his own trembling breath. As his mind tried to catch up with what had happened, Thomas could only come to one conclusion.

He must have hit me in the head. I have a concussion and I am hallucinating. There's no other explanation. Uncle, come home soon, I don't want to die. Thomas shivered and the exhaustion hit him like a tidalwave. The heavy lifting combined with the adrenaline rush fuelled fight left him too tired to hold himself standing for long anymore now that the action had come to an end, and he felt the darkness envelope him, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

OxOxO The Next Morning OxOxO

"...enjoy the pain!"

Thomas woke up with a gasp, sitting up and panting unevenly. He had been resting on a stone floor in some sort of ruin, he noticed while looking around. His head still hurt, but it was passing, and looking at his hand he saw the metal gauntlet was still there. The jewel was black as it had been when he took it out of the box, not shining brightly as it had been before he collapsed.

Trying to stand up Thomas looked around himself in confusion. He wasn't in his uncle's home anymore that much was obvious, but he didn't think there were any ruins like this near his uncle's place either. What's more, the weather had been somewhat clouded but it had still been hot outside in the afternoon, but he felt a definite chill right now. There was an open doorway nearby that the chill wind seemed to be coming from.

Walking over to the doorway, Thomas looked outside only to have his eyes widen in surprise. He was looking at a castle courtyard of some sort, and right ahead was a large gatehouse. He had seen enough movies and television series to recognise a medieval setting of sorts, but the place looked like it was real, though in a rather bad shape. Large section of a wall was broken open and the towers at the ends of the wall looked like they had both suffered a partial collapse. The gatehouse' doors were blocked by a large pile of rubble too, though with the holes in the wall he should be able to leave the courtyard.

Thing was he was fairly sure he wasn't anywhere near his uncle's home, or probably in the same country at all. There was some mist lingering on the ground, and he could see the sunlight in the distance beyond the wall. It was still early, he thought to himself briefly. Somewhere during the last night he had been moved to this place. How, he wasn't sure, but he had a feeling it had to do with the murdering thief and that bright light too, perhaps. At least he was still alive and there were no signs of that thug.

"Greetings, sire. I trust you have rested well? There are nefarious deeds to be done, and evil deeds don't do themselves." The sudden voice broke him out of his thoughts and he looked around in confusion trying to find its source. Seeing as he was standing alone on the courtyard he turned to look up at the walls and then back at the castle doorway.

"Sire?" The voice spoke again but Thomas was having a hard time figuring out where it came from. It was not too loud but he could have sworn it was like someone spoke to him right besides him yet he saw nobody. He had a bit of a chill again, hoping this place wasn't haunted. Normally he wouldn't consider that possible, but with the recent events he wasn't sure of anything.

"Alright, its obvious you are confused by the looks of you. Allow me to explain. The gauntlet you are wearing is a symbol of office for an Overlord, and now that it has accepted you as its master I am here to guide you in establishing your dark domain. I am your advisor, and a humble servant of darkness."

The thought of a talking gauntlet seemed crazy even for him but some of the words were familiar. Overlord, a dark domain, and the phrase servant of darkness had all become familiar to him in the past. That's why the gauntlet looked kind of familiar and so cool in his eyes. That was a game he had played in the past. It had to be part of his hallucinations, he decided briefly. Though it seemed odd, everything seemed far too real.

"The conflict you were in left you and the gauntlet somewhat drained, but the haziness will pass and your muscles will become limber again, very soon. Without a dark tower to focus its energies to you the recovery will depend on you, but the gauntlet has brought you to a suitable location to establish your bastion of evil in. No doubt your challenger will likewise be preparing so I would urge you to-"

"Wait a second, my challenger?" Thomas frowned. There was only one guy that came to mind right now. Oh damn it, he had at least hoped not having to see that bastard again. The gaunt fellow had seemed like a psychopath and more than a little screwed up in the head. Then again he was talking to a gauntlet and hearing voices in his head, so who was he to call someone that?

"Yes, the one that sought to steal the gauntlet away from you. I believe he was better informed of the powers resting within the gauntlet. Until such a time that one of you has fallen, you are bound here and will have to seek each other out. Only then will the gauntlet have its full power once more."

"You mean that if I want to get home, I have to get the gauntlet's full power back, meaning I have to kill the other guy?" Thomas felt a chill down his spine. He could fight in self-defense but he was no murderer, but he wasn't going to let himself be killed either. This was crazy, all he had wanted was to enjoy his vacation at his uncle's place doing small chores and relaxing on the beach looking at girls.

"You need to get the full power of the gauntlet to travel between worlds, but whether you want to go back home when you do gain that power or if you want to remain here will be up to you, master. Until then, I would advise you to gather your strength and find out more about your surroundings. You will also need to gather some lifeforce before you can begin shaping your minions."

He would need minions if he was going to take this seriously. He would have to kill creatures and drain that lifeforce, whatever it was, with his gauntlet. Then he would be able to summon some to do his bidding as well as protect him. He would have to do that to not be killed himself, but it would take a while to get used to the idea of killing, even if he would try and limit himself to only killing animals for their lifeforce.

Of course, he wasn't sure if he would be able to keep it at that. At least if it came down to self-defense he would have to be ready to kill so he would not be killed. Playing a game had been amusing and there had been no real risk to him, and nobody really got harmed, but he had a feeling in his guts that this time, people would be hurt and he would have to live with it. At least he could try and make sure nobody died needlessly, and if he had to establish a dark domain, he could establish it on dominance rather than destruction. He was rather certain that the psychopath he had now been pitted against would only leave blood and ashes behind him.

"Alright, I am still not sure about all of this but standing around here will not help me get anywhere. I'll have a look around at the surroundings," Thomas said seriously and made up his mind.

OOO OOO OOO OOO

I have 2 other stories to write on but I've had some thoughts on Dungeon Keeper and Overlord for a long time already, and the wild ideas kept me from being able to focus on the already established stories. So I begin a yet another, though I hope in doing so I will remove the writer's block keeping me from continuing the others so that I may write more to them as well now.

This story will follow the Thomas who has ended up in a world where he is one of the two Overlords who each hold a share of the powers of the gauntlet, which too has now split into two identical copies, each cluthing one man's arm as they are forced on a path against one another. Domination versus Destruction.

Thomas is hardly a scary name for an Overlord, he'll have to come up with something else to call himself in these lands, unless he plans to simply go by the title of Overlord, but even that would be confusing later on as there are indeed two Overlords on the move now.

Please leave a review with your thoughts, I appreciate any and all feedback to improve my writing further.