A TIME AND A PLACE
Even the mightiest forces, bow eventually to a stronger one.
He walked slowly down the taller tunnel; it was rather amazing how quickly minions could work. But considering that minions didn't so much sleep as hibernate when they weren't in use, he guessed he shouldn't be so surprised. Though the tunnel was now tall enough that he didn't have to hunch to walk down it, it still was but a slope, and to add insult, it really was slippery. His first visit below the throne room in days, yet he could have sworn that it took less time to crawl up the tunnel when it was the way it was before. Maybe it was just an aspect of his boredom, after all he'd done read every bit of literature that was left, even the children's books that had been colored in, he suspected by minions that the previous Overlord took exception to. It was odd to find out that Overlords could be human in nature after all; it made the impression that he wasn't what an Overlord should be seem less pressing.
Needing to get out of the bed chambers, he felt like seeing what progress was being made on any extra armor or weapons. Finally he exited the passage way he decided to nickname the forever tunnel, into the foundations. One glance showed that it wasn't any better down here than it was before. Making his way over to the large furnace he looked around for the minion smith. At first he didn't see the minion, but as he approached the smelter the smithy walked around from behind it. Giblet looked up at him, regarding him for but an instant before looking back to the blaze beneath the large pot like structure. Clearing his throat to get the minion's attention again, he spoke up. "Giblet. Have you made any progress with the metals the others gathered?"
Looking back once more to the overlord, Giblet spoke in his broken way. "Shield almost ready." Raising his eyebrow he asked the minion, "They were only able to find enough to make a shield?" The smithy minion simply nodded as he turned his attention back to the smelter. Sighing to himself, he left the minion to its task. Setting about a task himself of climbing back up the so called forever tunnel. He slowly made his way up to the barracks. Once there he moved to the large open plaza like center looking for Gnarl or Mortis. He spotted Mortis peering into a running stream of water over an edge not far from him. Moving over to the blue minion, he took a moment to look into the stream. What he saw actually surprised him. Minions. Many of them, of all colors, even those other than the four. Floating in the water, not flowing with the stream, in fact moving in opposition to the flow, albeit slowly. Mortis apparently noticed his reaction for he spoke plainly.
"These are the souls of minions past, and creatures magical alike. This is but a window into the river of magic's life that was given." He turned to look at the blue minion, only to see the minion was still peering into the image of minions floating by beneath them. "So this river doesn't just bear the life force of dead minions of the Overlords?" Mortis only slightly altered his head's position to afford him a line of sight to him. "Heh." Mortis seemed to smile, though bared no teeth. "Yes, and no. All are minions of some form or another. For all within this river were given life by great magic, their very existence, all due to magic. But no creature made purely of magic has life force, created with it yes, but do not have any of their own." He finished his explanation with a shake of his head slightly from side to side. Then went back to peering intently into the water. This actually made some sense to him. It partially explained to him how they were able to resurrect fallen minions. Simply replace the life force that held a minion together, and the magic would reform into the minion. Well, maybe not simply… but still the same effect.
"I see." He stated after deep thought. Taking a deep sigh, he stood there thinking to himself. Once the shield piece was ready, there wasn't really anything else to wait around for, and he could direct the minions to open the cave entrance to the surface so that he could begin his quest in earnest. But, even though he felt like he was improving with the basic sword techniques covered in the book he was reading from, he also felt like he wasn't fully ready to take the world by storm. No doubt having something to do with not having a readily available army, but also from having a lack of choices when he would likely get into a fight. Knowing that past overlords had access to magic, he felt that he should at least know the basics of some… but could find nothing on such things in what was left in the literature left behind to rot.
Taking a slow breath, he looked to the blue minion once more, which he found had since stopped looking into the running waters; that also no longer showed any images of minions within. Mortis had taken to sitting on the jut of rock that raised above the rest of the floor, looking patently at him. Turning to face the blue minion fully he spoke up. "Overlords of the past had command of powerful spells, and an assortment of magical abilities. Whereas I do not. Yet. I was hoping that you could perhaps teach me something about magic." With that he waited for the blue minion to respond. "I see. My apologies my lord, but I cannot." He could feel himself wanting to lash out, but held it in check. "Why not?" He asked simply. "The overlords required the powers afforded them by darkness to wield magic, and even then simply took the spells of other, more accomplished mages and sorcerers." He had not considered this possibility. Yet another thing that he would be starting out behind past overlords with.
With a heavy sigh, he could only respond with one comment. "Fantastic." With the briefest of nods toward Mortis, he slowly stalked away. No army, no memory, no magic. And they expected him to lead all of evil throughout the world. This was starting to get infuriating. Why was it that evil always seems to have everything stacked against them when they start out? Once things got going, evil people just seemed to roll right over most anything in their path… but it was always hard for them to get going to begin with. It seems, his experience was no exception. But at least he had an idea of how to start, fix the dark heart of the Nether world, then find the minions. From there, it was just a matter of making others fall in line. This however, required information; that supposedly only a priest of one of the last sources of good in the world would likely know. Somewhere, all the way across the ocean on the main land of Greenvale. He definitely felt frustrated, and more things just kept adding on to his problems. Yep, definitely frustrated. Gnarl. He should find that old minion and see what other information he could get out of the coy old codger. Looking at the other tunnel leading back to the throne room, he quickly entered and began his search for the old coot.
Coming out of the upper section of his 'forever tunnel' he surveyed the throne room trying to spot the old minion. The two that he had set to cleaning the tower had managed to make some progress with the throne room, the smaller and medium sized rocks had been cleared from the room's floor, though the heavier, bigger rocks, and the pillar that laid across the spiked pit in the center was still there. Upon closer inspection he noticed that the pillar didn't so much cross the pit as lay within down across to the other side of the pit, and broken at where it reached the top. Walking around the remaining rubble he studied the throne room more closely, the throne itself looked as though it was shattered, yet it still held together. Definitely wouldn't be sitting in it anytime soon, at least not till it was repaired or replaced. Likely to be the latter. Apparently lava had flowed through here at one point, as there was some softly glowing earth behind the broken throne. The arches that framed the side passages were all but standing. Alcoves were filled with large stones. And to either side of the landing the throne sat upon were two pillars of totem statues.
Somehow he could sense magic that used to be in them. Globes that were the center pieces of these statuettes were shattered completely, leaving some fluid that dried upon them. The visage of whatever these pieces were made to resemble was also chipped away when their globes were broken. Reaching, he touched the surface of one of the statuettes. Nothing. He didn't really know why, but for some reason he was expecting something, a reaction, a feeling… something. "Not much to look at now, are they?" The old voice asked, sounding somewhat nostalgic. "Not anymore anyways." He responded as he pulled his hand back, and turned to face the old minion. He knew better than to try and asked where he had been, instead he started a different line of questioning.
"Giblet says that he's about finished with the shield," Gnarl lightly flinched at the mention of such equipment. "How long will it take the minions to open the passage out?" The old creature looked at him, and began to tap at his chin, "Hmm, I should say a day at most, its mostly just clutter, and most of the bigger rubble should be possible to push aside with the five of them. Should I get them started sire?" Looking to him in earnest, he responded back to the creature, "They can start tomorrow. Right now, the tunnel needs work, after that, this room needs to be finished clearing. But aside from that, the nights seem to be getting colder, so I assume that winter is setting in, no?" Gnarl's eyes widened with realization. "Oh my, I can't believe I lost track of the seasons so carelessly. Yes, the winter will be setting in, in short order. We will need firewood this winter, even the heat in the foundations would not be enough to keep the cold of northern winters at bay."
He bobbed his head in agreement "Yes, once they clear the way, they will need to gather any large wood they can find in the immediate area. How are the browns at hunting?" Gnarl simply blinked. "Err, to be honest terrible sire. They're more the kind to rush in, in a noisy racket and club anything that moves. There's hardly a brown that knows the usefulness of being quiet. The few who do, usually have more intelligence than the rest. Though the degree by which they are varies." He raises his hand to stop Gnarl from rambling, "I get it, noisy ones aren't smart, quiet ones more brains than the noisy ones." Gnarl smirked, 'Quite so." He lets out a sigh, "So, yet another thing that needs doing. Teaching these browns how to hunt so the rest of you can survive while I'm gone."
Gnarl just offered a half guilty smile, "It's not so bad, a minion isn't as frail as a human against things like the cold. Though, it is true that we do have our limits. I'm sure we would do fine without someone to provide for us while you're away." He just stared at Gnarl, until Gnarl's smile slowly slid from his face. "Maybe." Crossing his arms, he started with a grunt, "I don't know how long I'll be gone, and without supplies, it may very well be enough to even kill a minion without so much as a strike of a weapon." Gnarl just lowered his head, and suddenly developed a keen interest in the floor by his feet. Sighing, Gnarl spoke in a hushed tone, "Yes sire… it might."
The next morning Giblet had relayed information that the finishing touches of the shield would be completed by day's end. With that, he had learned how to summon the five roaming browns to him with some guidance from Gnarl. Somehow the call was familiar to him, an almost ethereal horn sounding from nowhere, and everywhere at the same time. He noticed the jewel in his bracer glow as he used it to sound the call, and vaguely recalled seeing it do that before. But pushed thoughts of glowing rocks aside for giving the five young browns orders to clear the passage leading out. This turned out to be more involved than he expected. Yet, recalling the words of the older minion just the last evening, he guessed that it shouldn't have really surprised him. But this proved to be an opportunity for Gnarl to teach him about target focusing, and non-verbal go-to commands.
Focusing on the occasional larger boulders before the piled cave in proper, he could sense the number of minions it would take to push them over edges or just out of the way. Thankfully, only one of the browns had to be reminded, often, that it couldn't simply bash a large rock, or small boulders out of the way. The others would quickly snicker at the one brown whenever Gnarl, or himself had to remind the youngling. Gnarl would always whip around and snarl at the others before adding a growling command for them to get back to work. Which, after a startled yelp, would quickly go back to pushing their load somewhere where it would no longer obstruct the entrance way. After the some odd hundredth time that this minion did that, he called it to him, and bent to one knee. Even bent at the knee, he was still a full torso height above the minion. Looking down, bracing himself on the one knee still upright, he gave attempt at teaching the minion the lesson.
"Why do you keep trying to smash the rock when you're asked to push it?" The minion just looked at him, no sign that it understood what it was being asked. "Rocks aren't easy to break, even with proper tools. Let alone with bare hands." Again, the minion blinked. No response. He sighed, and thought about it a moment. Spotting a pebble by the minion's foot, an idea formed, leaning over, he plucked it from the glazed ice-like snow floor of the cavern. Before straightening back up, he grasped one of the minion's hands. Placing the pebble in the minion's open hand, he said, "Here, squeeze this pebble, as hard as you can." The minion looked at the pebble at first, then closed its hand and squeezed. And squeezed. When it wasn't able to break it with one hand, it placed its closed fist that held the pebble within, into the palm of his other hand, and squeezed as hard as it could with both. Finally, after actually turning a shade darker from the effort, it stopped trying to squeeze the pebble. Opening its hand, it looked at the stone. Then finally spoke, "Thingie no smash."
"No, it didn't. The rock is strong. It takes a lot more strength to break it. But…" As he paused, he reached his hand into the open palm of the minion, and with one finger flipped it over. "It can be moved." The minion blinked at this, and using its own free hand, flipped it again. Its eyes grew wide at seeing it move, and did it again, and again until the pebble flipped out of its hand. It starred at the pebble where it landed for a moment, then looked up at him with wide eyes that displayed surprise in them. Merely nodding, he pointed at the rock that it was trying to smash before, the minion following the direction of the finger looked back to the same rock. "That too can be moved, it might take more than a finger to do it, but just like the smaller one, it too will move when it is pushed. Now, go and move it out of the way." The minion then hurried back over to the rock, and was about ready to try smashing it again when it stopped its hands from coming down. Slowly lowered them, then pushed on the rock instead. To his humor, he saw it looking shocked as the rock slowly move away, then with something akin to delight started pushing with great zeal, and moved the rock easily.
Gnarl came up to his side and hrmphed loudly. "About time it learned. I was thinking we might have needed to kill it, and raise another one with something more resembling a brain." Raising his eyebrow, and a half smirk, he asked Gnarl, "What would that accomplish but wasting life force? Besides, it seems to learn easily enough. It just needed to be demonstrated that a rock couldn't be pulverized into moving out of the way. Though, I would agree that this one might take more effort to teach" Looking back at the minion in question he saw it lightly dance with glee having pushed a rock out of the way, and rushing back to the piled cave in to push another one. Again, Gnarl just hrmphed loudly, and mumbled about getting to old to teach upstart minions how to think. Smiling somewhat, he watched on as the five minions now were slowly making progress clearing the rubble out of the way.
For the first time since he had come back to life, he could see sunlight. The minions had spent several hours slowly digging out the smaller rocks, or pushing some of the larger ones to the side. Enough of the rocks had been cleared now that a minion sized gap broke through at the top of the pile, and through that, the sun was shinning into the cavern. The icy walls, and full ice stalagmites reflecting the orange and yellow hues around the inner cavern like the image one might see in some oil painting. Joining the torch light used before to see on this side, this far toward the previously enclosed mouth of the cave, gave a view of warmth, even if one couldn't feel it. He looked out of the opening, unawares of the minion's 'ooh's' and 'Aw's.' His revelry in the light was cut short though as Gnarl briskly commanded the minions to 'Get back to work you lazy lounging piles of dragon dung puss.' Briefly causing him to contemplate how dragon shit could have puss.
Pushing the thought out of mind he spoke to Gnarl in a somewhat subdued voice, as he looked back to the opening. "They were probably just trying to figure out what the pretty lights were. I doubt any of them has seen the sun before today." Gnarl 'hmm'ed' in response before adding, "Ignorance of the sun hardly excuses them from doing their job. You ordered them to clear a passage before the day came to an end, and that won't get done just standing around and gaping at 'the pretty lights.' Bah. Sun light. The only worthwhile sun light is the desert sunlight. Pouring endless waves of torturous heat on the hapless soul foolish enough to brave the sands unprepared. Sun light…" Gnarl's voice almost visible dripped with his displeasure of the sun's light that gave a warming sensation here in the cold north when it shone on one's person. "Why Gnarl… If I didn't know better, I would think you didn't like the sun." He joked. Gnarl just raised an eyebrow while staring at him with a look that just conveyed 'unimpressed.' Then snarled at the minions that could be heard snickering at his joke. The snickering broke off immediately once Gnarl snarled. And yet again, Gnarl just 'hrmph'ed' loudly, before trudging further back into the cavern.
Leaving the minions to their task, he followed Gnarl farther into the cave till they reached a wide plateau amidst the larger, openly spacious cavern. Once there Gnarl found a jutting of ice to sit upon, and heaved a long, soul reaching sigh. "Come on, it isn't like I was saying that you actually liked the warmth of the sun light." Gnarl simply raised his head, as if to look at him, but kept his eyes firmly rooted to the floor of the plateau, and let out a half hearted 'hmm?' Pitching his own eye brows in a look of confusion, and frown forming on his features he added, "All right old timer, what's bothering you this time." It wasn't a question, or an order. But it broke Gnarl's gaze from the floor. With another, lesser sigh, Gnarl spoke up. "It's… just… you don't really seem evil. But you honestly try to be condescending of others. Yet you still care for them. An Overlord is many things… Caring isn't one of them." As Gnarl paused, I couldn't help but be confused. So what if I cared for those under me. It just meant I was willing to joke around with, and spend time helping them. Gnarl continued, "Even the most benevolent of Overlords past was never this… this… nice." Gnarl had settled on one of the few words about good that he didn't dry heave at. That couldn't be a good sign.
"I know that without the Dark Heart, that there isn't anything to course evil through your veins, but still… I would of thought that for someone that the eye chose, you'd be more… well… evil." Now I was lost… "The eye?" I asked. Once more Gnarl answered with a 'hrm?' before answering. "Oh, sorry, I sometimes forget that most Overlords never know about the eye. Well, some time, long ago… even before I was born to the brown hive, an Overlord that was versed in magic apparently used the Heart of Darkness to forge an item that could detect evil within one's soul. Technically it's called The Eye of the Heart. But we've mostly just called it the eye. I don't know exactly how it works, but it's supposed to be able to peer into a lingering soul, and detect an evil, or hatred left behind. The darker the glow, the more evil. The brighter the red, the more hateful. It's even been known to shine green for the greedy, and blue for those whom would force the world to share their despair. My predecessor learned not to raise any blue or green one's… They often work up to much opposition before having gained enough minions to properly defend themselves with.
But yours… we were surprised when the eye started to react within the lair to start with… and led us straight to you. The brightest red I'd ever seen it shine. Far more even than the Lord Gromgard." I interrupted with a question, "Lord Gromgard?" Gnarl stopped, starred right at me for a minute, then blinked several times. "Yes, well, brighter even than his… so I was certain you'd make a great Overlord. Only, I've not seen you once get angry, or truly upset, about anything. So… I wonder if maybe the eye was wrong… or if we were. …" As usual, Gnarl ignored my question with barely so much as pause to blink. As frustrating as that was, Gnarl's frustration seemed to stem from doubt, from both him, and the eye. What could he say, 'sorry, just not feeling like ripping people or minions apart today… we'll see about tomorrow." Vowing that when he could press the old minion on the matter, he'd get the old fogey to tell him everything about the Overlords of the past. Right now though, Gnarl wasn't about to share anything about past Overlords… and his source was concern about not having the right person for the job. "So, let's see this eye, and see if it still says that about me."
Gnarl once again looked blankly at him for a minute before responding, "That's just it… you're wearing it." Pointing to my bracer as he said that. Looking down, I understand immediately he was referring to the jewel lodged into the gauntlet wanna be. And as it was want to do, it didn't do anything. Just sitting there, darkened, and dull. "The command stone? It, is the eye of the heart?" Gnarl nodded, "Yes, after the heart was made, the Overlord who made it discovered it could relay he's orders to nearby minions. Simple orders, mind you… but his orders nonetheless. And for every Overlord, it would shine their color. It doesn't even do that for you." I hold my forearm up that had the bracer fastened to it, and starred at the lump of rock like material that was embedded into the armlet. "So is that why it glows when I give the other minions commands?" Though I wasn't watching I hear a startled grunt, and a loud pop before some muttered curses, and then the old minion asks with some surprise in his voice, "It… it glows when you give the minions commands!" Lowering my arm I stare back at him, "Yeah, it glows a bright orange when I give them commands."
"Orange? But… that color's for envy. Why would… " Gnarl stops mid sentence as utter realization seems to hit him. "No… it can't be… did I…. did I mistake orange for… red?" Looking up at me, I see something I'd hadn't seen on his face before, fear. "I've gone blind!"
AN: Well, ain't that a doozy of a writer's block. Took me a whole year just to cobble together this much. IF ANY OF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEE THIS PROGRESS FASTER, then don't be shy, drop me a line, discuss some things you found interesting, things you didn't... you know, anything that can help me think of anything to get this story going. I've also, recently added a message board, here on so any registered user can pitch in and offer up anything, or talk about what they'd like to see. I'll try to check it regularly.
Hopefully, I'll get some interested people involved, which hopefully will keep me feeling creative enough to crank out the next chapter in hopefully less time.