Brann walked downstairs. Despite tensions between his two Mistresses, he slept rather well. Of course, Gnarl was on hand to ruin his day before it even began.

"Sire, a Nordbergian has requested an audience. He sounds positively shaken."

"Uge! I haven't even ruled it for a day, and already there whinging on about something! Ok, send him down." Brann sat down upon his throne and awaited the arrival of the messenger.

"Begging your pardon, dark lord, but I thought you should know something. There are some troublemakers in Nordberg! They're planning on stealing the town's food supplies and sail out of Nordhaven on one of our... I mean your ships! Um, also, you wouldn't be able to lend me, er, Mistress Kelda, would you? The nights in Nordberg are cold and lonely, you know." Brann was wide-eyed in shock. The audacity of the peasant's request was almost admirable, almost.

"You know, I usually don't kill the messenger, but I think I'll make an exception for you, ya horny little piece of shit!" Brann screamed as he threw his ax at the foolish Nordbergian, cutting him in half from shoulder to hip. Gnarl stepped up, while the minions were cleaning up the mess.

"Cheeky devil! Hurry, sire, that ship is our ticket out of Nordberg to find the other minion tribes."

"Indeed, plus Nordhaven is the only coastal trade hub in the north. Securing it is our top priority." Brann said as he stepped onto the teleporter, and headed out.

...

Brann and his merry band of minions soon made it to the outskirts of Nordhaven. From a hill, they could see the bay the town was built around, and their target.

"There's the ship! It's frozen in the ice." Gnarl pointed out unhelpfully as Brann lowered his gaze upon three Nordbergians cowering at the bottom of the hill.

"It's him!"

"Quick, let's get out of here!" Brann chased after the little shits, but soon found himself in the middle of a small hunting camp. After killing all the hunters without mercy, or effort, Brann soon cornered the peasants and dominated them. He then found his path blocked by a wall of ice, and nearby was a tar pit. No doubt the stuff they used to make ships around here. Gnarl then apparently felt the need to point out the obvious again.

"That black goopy stuff is tar, sire. Highly flammable! And look, Gnowms, the perfect fire starters!"

"I'm not going to light the tar on fire Gnarl, that would be a colossal waste of resources. We gathered plenty of blasting barrels from the mining camp, and don't worry about time; the peasants aren't going anywhere." Brann only had to wait about ten minutes before a minion cart pulled by wolves showed up, filled with red explosive barrels. Picking one up, Brann lit it and tossed it at the ice wall. It only took two more to breakthrough. He and his happy little horde of minions then began to slaughter their way through hunters and blast their way through ice walls until at last making it to Nordhaven. And the townspeople greeted him as he expected them to.

"It's him! The witch-boy! I mean man... I mean thing!"

"Run! Run!"

"Wait! Perhaps he is not without mercy?" One brave, or foolish, man said as he and one other were the only ones not to run screaming from Brann.

"Sorry about the fuss, sire. Folks around here are a little allergic to death. Perhaps with a little persuasion, they can help you on your quest. Maybe by doing this..." The man said right before running up to the docks and throwing fore crackers at the ice.

"I suppose that would be a better use of your lives than target practice..." Brann then moved into the town, taring down every barricade in his path to mind slaving the villagers. Soon finding the traders added by an unexpected force, the Everlight elves.

"What did mother earth ever do to you, man? Why must you chose this path of destruction?"

"Why must you shit-eating hippy assholes always get involved with my rampaging!?" Brann cut down the elves with as much malicious delight as he did the hunters. After much effort, all of the villagers in Nordhaven were out throwing firecrackers at the ice to melt it. But even with reds helping, it still took more than an hour before the only one not under mind control returned with a status report.

"I hope my prattling does not offend your ears, lord, but the ship is free from the ice now. It needs some repairs, but we, your loyal servants, will take care of this."

"I noticed elves in the village. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Ah, yes, about that. When the town went trader, it was because they believed the elves could protect them from you. But truly, we would never come to such a foolish conclusion ever again!"

"Right... Are there any more of them skulking about?"

"I do believe that they are blockading the bay as we speak, sire."

"Welp, I better go take care of that then." Brann then got onto the boat, his browns being the rowers and his reds taking up a position at the bow. Gnarl seemed to be getting into the spirit of sailing more than anyone.

"Row, row till your scales bleed!" However, it was not long into their voyage when they came across an explosive little something floating in the water.

"Sea mines, master! The empire must have left them to defend Nordhaven. We were lucky this time, but I would advise keeping out of the way of those explosive little tinkers in the future." Only moments after Gnarl gave his rear bit of good advice, Brann spotted an elven ship, with sea mines all around it.

"Hey, look, it's the man... The man's gonna bring us all down!"

"Stay back, Everlight doesn't want your un-cool ways!"

"We don't want to have to resort to violence. But the fuzzy ones need our protection!" The elves on the ship babbled, soon interrupted by Gnarl's own babble.

"Master, we need to find a way to get past those mines... Without sailing into them."

"Wow, Gnarl, don't sail right into the active sea mines. Who would ever have thought of that aside from you!?" Brann then noticed a poorly defended dock nearby, so he parked his bot to kill some elves to help him think. When he was done spilling elven blood, he noticed some baby seals and had an evil idea. He sent some minions to charge at the seal pups, driving them into the land mines, getting rid of both mines and elves blocking his path.

"This is why survival of the fluffiest never caught on, sire. They're just too stupid!"

"Ok, now that we have cleared that up, let's get back to port. I want to secure my current holdings before expanding too much further."

"A wise decision master, can't have your dark domain crumbling to ash the moment you leave." Brann then returned his ship to port and then himself to the Netherworld. he then sat upon his throne, considering his options.

((Hello, my little goblins! For those of you who followed The Winds Of Evil from the beginning on , you know that I encourage viewer participation. So here is the first choice I'm going to be giving solely to you, darlings, the fate of Nordberg. I have been portraying Brann as a domination-centric Overlord so far, but that little town has been nothing but shitty to Brann, and someone from there just asked to fuck his girlfriend, so I could see him burning it to the ground. Another thing that I will leave up to you guys, if Nordberg should be renamed. Because even if dominated or destroyed, the old Nordberg is gone and is never coming back. That's all I have for you this challenge, anything that gets more votes than the rest is getting put in, or if everything has the same number of votes, then I will just pick my favorite. Have a wonderful life, my little goblins!))