Lo gave Fengir a light pat on the back, he seemed very interested in the jungle and his nose was pressed to the ground. She however, was less interested. Her armour was amazing, it was strangely light from metal, and the helmet was different from what she,'d been expecting. It looked like some sort of bird she hadn't seen before, with a long hooked beak. When she'd asked Lilith she said it was a falcon, Lo had zoned out after that as it reminded her of the tutors she had when she was little, she caught something about it being symbolic but that just made her ignore her even more, Lo did not see the point in symbolism.
"When does that attack start? We are becoming impatient." The Prophet huffed.
That was another thing Lo found confusing. The man had become difficult to predict, or the men in his head had. He had described his condition like having voices in his head, but instead of voices more like other heads. It was annoying, also the fact that he had started to referring to himself as 'we'.
"Not yet, the reds are still getting into position. Do you know what one of Everlight's main exports is?"
"Fruit, alcohol, exotic animals."
"Some of Lilith's girls managed to get hold of the shipping schedule. There's a large shipment of wine leaving for the mainland, if I remember correctly it burns with a bit of effort. There also making sure no one's on board."
"Waste of resources, you don't spread butter with a sword."
Lo let out an involuntary snarl. "We are not to harm the towns people, soldiers only."
"This is war, there will always be collateral damage. We've fought in one and have seen what people do under siege."
"This isn't a siege. The minions, and you, will do as I say. I am giving the orders, and you will follow them."
"Yet we're the one wearing the armour of the Overlord."
"And I'm the one who can tear your body apart with a single gesture. Now, be quiet, the show's going to begin."
The was a hollow silence, then it happened. A column of fire leapt out of a boat that rested at the docks and then spread to the others, the reflected flames dancing along true water.
"Now, we attack." Lo gave Fengir a slap on the back and he started to move forward slowly, then increasing in speed to a full on run, followed by a group of browns on wolfs and reds on salamanders, while a group of greens moved in on the opposite size town, cutting the throat of any guards looking to the burning docks.
The Prophet had been given a horse, apparently some greens had stolen it and intended to cook it but Gnarl had stepped in. She wondered what made him rise above the minions. There was no proof he was the smartest, both Morg and Quaver could speak. He wasn't the oldest, she'd been shown a minion called Mortis and she couldn't work out what he used to be and when she asked he gave a one word reply. Young.
It was a weird feeling for Lo to not to have a bow, but she found spells did seem to be working just as well. First she tried fire, but the smell and screams put her off, she then tried frost but seeing their faces frozen in horror, she just couldn't do it. In the end she settled for the lighting which her father had used, but in a much more concentrated form that left only ash.
The Prophet was different, his strikes seemed to purely designed to torment his target, taking them apart one slice at a time.
"What were you saying about efficiency?" She yelled over the sound of a group of browns who had ripped the helmet from his soldiers head and were currently using it to destroy his skull, before moving onto another guard.
"This is a massacre, efficiency is not involved."
She was going to deal with him later, but now, she needed to secure the garrison, it would work as a base of operations for now.
It was silent in the cold, dark room. So peaceful, so noiseless. The Huntsman had never known such stillness since before his transformation. Then the fighting had started. Metal clashing, smoke, blood, burning flesh. It was most likely bandits, but then he smelled something he recognised from years ago. A smell that made fear jolt through his entire body.
How could it be here? What was it doing? Was it possible that it knew he was in there? Had it come to feed? Then the smell of his own fear flooded his senses.
"Let me out." He started hammering against the metal door, hitting it until his hand started to bleed slightly. "You need my help, we have to fight it off. It will kill us all. Let me out."
There was no reply. Armoured boots, two pairs, metal against stone, the sound moving closer and closer, but there was something else. Another clicking noise that was slightly familiar. Claws against the flaw. And another noise, cheering, laughing. The monster had some new friends. "At least give me my weapons so I can die fighting."
He heard a slow screech as the first bolt slid away from the door, then the second, then the third. He started scrambling around the cell, looking for anything he could use as an improvised weapon. He ended up finding a small piece of wood trying to hold it in one hand but it was too stubby.
There was a slow creak as the door was pushed open. "You're not very grateful for someone who's cell's has just been unlocked."
The Huntsman was blinded by the light that came through the door, silhouetting an armoured figure holding a helmet in one arm, and his bow in the other. "I know what's out there."
"And what might that be?"
"A monster."
Lo gave a slight gulp, she felt as if her idea had fallen before it'd even started."How did you know?"
"I know that smell, I could recognise it a mile off."
"So, that's my cover blown."
"What?" He had no idea what she was talking about, her smell was totally new.
"You weren't talking about me?"
"'No, your smell is new, it is my older brother that I'm talking about."
Lo looked around slowly. "And who might that be?"
"The Cannibal."
"There's only me and you here."
"Lie. I remember the sound of minions from when I fought beside them, I know my brothers stench, and I know there is an animal as well."
Lo looked around, he was right. "How do you know that?"
"My name's The Huntsman, it doesn't matter how I know, we just need to kill it." The Huntsman stepped forward, and for the first time she could see him clearly. He looked to be in his late forties, his hair was staring to go grey on his temples and wrinkles dotted his face. He rolled up his sleeve, showing the tattoo on his arm. "The marking, he has it."
She slowly turned to The Prophet who was still in the Overlord armour. "Anything you'd like to tell me?"
"No."
The Huntsman slowly pulled himself out the cell, trying to grab his bow out of the elf's hand. "I'll take my weapon back."
"You mean my weapon, there's a half rotting one in the Wasteland, at least that's where I left it."
He moved down the corridor, taking a key from a corpses neck and opening the chest that his belongings were being kept, quickly putting his mask on and grabbing his sword.
"So, this is new."
"What do you mean?"
"A Overlord that is female, as well as an elf."
Lo shook her head and hands. "Oh, I'm not the Overlord, that's him."
"The Cannibal existed at the time of the last leader of the minions, only when one passes to the realm of the dead can a new one appear."
"How old is The Prophet or Cannibal or whatever?"
"It is over fifty, it drains magic from any source it can find and rejuvenates itself."
"Why do you call him an it?"
"Monsters aren't people, and all my senses are telling me to kill it or run."
"Then what's stopping you?"
"My head, if I run you'll kill me for knowing what you are, you're obviously working with him, or for him."
"Prophet, go to the port, make sure no boats are trying to leave." The man gave a nod before walking away, his boots clanging against the floor. "We have an arrangement.'
"He does what you tell him and he gets?"
"He says he wants your kind to be free."
"And how does he think that'll happen?"
"By placing me on the throne."
"I suppose I share his goal, and for once agree with his means."
"We'll discuss this later, right now though I want the rest of the town secure."
"A name would be useful."
"Lo, Lo Crasius."
"So you're fathers the lord of this place."
"I've not seen the man for eight years, he isn't my father."
Gnarl was happy. The girl actually had a very sound tactical mind and The Prophet was performing well, using an old mace that the Overlord had wielded before he died. But there was a problem. As soon as those who signed the missive were dead, she'd leave, the abomination would take the fall and she would return to the world of men. Although, the idea of using a decoy could work for them, if The Prophet was told what was going to happen he might be willing to join their cause.
Then there was the other one the girl had picked up, both of them were far too trusting. He didn't know her motives and had joined her. And she didn't know his actual name, although they didn't know The Cannibal's real name either, and he was the figure head for the invasion.
"We need to get her permanently invested." Lilith commented, interrupting Gnarl's Chaim of thought.
"And how would you suggest we do that?" Morg asked, drumming a slimy hand on the table before taking a sip from his cup.
"She's already got the qualities for an Overlord, willing to kill, strong with magic, and she has to win fully, no compromises."
"Yet again, what would you suggest?"
"We need to find something to exploit, something she does naturally."
"She wants to remain on the moral high ground." Gnarl stated.
"What if we made it so a group of people were being threatened by the kingdom, she would try to save them, she'd feel as if she was doing the right and might see us in a better light."
"So we just need someone vicious with power."
"Oh, if only we knew a lord, who was so brutal that he cut a child's eye out."
"You're actually suggesting the girl's father?"
Lilith gave a nod. "We know the tactics he used in the war. Effective, but shunned by all other lords, that why he was given the coast of Everlight, enough to be a reward but still a relatively small amount compared to the others."
Gnarl stood up. He was, in many ways, a traditionalist. Back in the good old days if someone didn't want to be Overlord you'd kill them and wait eighteen or so years. But then the cycle started to slow down. Instead of him being born near instantaneously, it would take a few months, then an extra year. The cycle was weak enough to produce a female overlord, weak enough to be broken. And his return would destroy it.
A/N Sorry it's been a while since I've updated, the voices in my head wouldn't let me write this till I made a start on a different story. That was a joke by the way I'm not actually insane, at least that's what the voices tell me ;).