Evil or Really Evil? Pure(Evil) or Corruption? Domination or Destruction? Order or Chaos? These are things an Overlord needs to think about.

-Gnarl's Musings.

Damion looked at the gremlins before him, as they continued to bow to him in an almost worshipful way. He would admit, a small part of him was liking the attention. Well, it was better then being eaten anyway.

But his attention was lost as the dead wood wolf twitched and looked at him again.

"Wagh! It's still alive. Kill! Kill it!" He shouted, getting to his feet and stepping back.

The brown gremlin creatures went right to work, with a cheering scream of excitement as they did so, taking their clubs and bashing at the still prone but twitching form of the wooden wolf. It didn't last a second as it was once again made motionless and still; but of course the brown creatures still kept hitting it and jumping up and down on its body.

Damion sighed and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his tux. He took a moment to examine himself, and for a moment worried about how the tux rental place would react once they saw the tuxedo.

Damion chuckled a bit at the thought. Here he was, somewhere with gremlin monsters and wolves made from wood, and here he was worrying about getting his deposit back for a rented tux.

"Uh...good job." Damion said hesitantly, as the creatures kept bashing the body for a few more seconds before calming down and breathing heavily, tongues hanging out like dogs.

He still wasn't sure what to make of that. So instead he turned to the dead body before him and went over to examine the wooden creature. Curiosity of how such a creature could exist taking hold of his mind.

Yet, as he placed his gauntleted hand on the body, he felt a sudden hot sensation burning through the gauntlet and green and brown colored energy seemed to be drained from the body of the wooden wolf and into the gauntlet.

"Aaaagh! What is this!?" Damion shouted, grabbing the gauntlet with his free hand and tried to pull it off as it continued to drain the strange energy until finally it ended.

When the last bit of that brown energy was drained by the gauntlet, the wooden wolf's body fell into pieces.

"Oooooh. That's mine!" One said, as it pulled off the top half of the creature's head from the ground and planted it firmly on its forehead like a helmet.

"This mine!" Another shouted, holding up a claw and leg and doing a little dance.

Damion watched them, before looking at the gauntlet in confusion. What was that? It didn't hurt him, it just felt a little warm as it drained....whatever that energy thing was. Wait, these gremlin creatures had called it Life Force?

The thought was a little revolting, but more so he wondered how he did it in the first place.

"This is getting weirder and weirder." Damion said, stepping back from the pile of wooden body parts.

Damion looked around, before starting off in another direction. Hopefully this one with less wooden monsters out to eat him.

The sound of footsteps behind him caught his ear, and Damion turned and saw the five brown gremlin creatures standing behind him; keeping a slight distance from him.

Again he heard them following. Their steps stopping with his, and when he turned they stood behind him, some even saluting him.

Damion scowled, and began walking forward, keeping his head turned to keep an eye on the creatures. As he walked, they followed. Seeing this Damion turned and ran, and the sound of the creatures following behind him followed.

Damion turned, jumped over a fallen log and ducked behind a tree. He breathed, as he slowly looked out from behind the tree and nearly jumped as the creatures leapt over the log and appeared before him. Again they stood near him and saluted, some panting like dog.

"Ow." He said, forgetting that he was wearing a metal gauntlet on the hand he used to facepalm himself. He rubbed his face with his other hand and again tried to pull the gauntlet off.

"Fine. Follow me." Damion said. He wasn't sure if he should trust these creatures.

Buuuuut. They did save him from that monster, and as they said it were suppose to protect him. Why, he didn't understand. But, if there were more of...whatever that thing was around, he could certainly use the protection as he himself did not have a weapon

Damion began moving once more, the gremlins following behind. Every so often, he would glance back as he did not fully trust these creatures yet. And he still didn't understand why they thought he was their master.

Actually, there was a lot of things he didn't understand. How could he understand them? How did they know English? Where was he? He couldn't be on Earth, that much he had to admit. He had seen enough to know that wherever he was, it wasn't earth.

Years of science fiction came to play now. Was he in a parallel world? An alien planet? A different dimension? Anyone one of those possibilities could be true. Under normal circumstances, anyone would probably be freaking out.

Though after his near death experience, Damion felt that he had done enough freaking out. Now he had to focus on something more important. Survival. And maybe finding a way back home.

He could try hunting or foraging. But he wasn't wise enough on either subject that he felt he could succeed or pick something safe. And if this was a different world, then that would be unwise to try to eat what was without knowing what was safe or not.

Then he thought of that town. He wasn't that far. Maybe he could find food there, and maybe get a sense of where he was.

Of course, just cause they had towns didn't mean they might be friendly. He didn't even know what constituted for intelligent life in this world. Still, if they had society then they might not kill him out right. And his instincts told him that the town was the place to go.

So he walked in the direction he had seen it in. His little gremlins behind him all the way.

Damion hiked for maybe an hour or more. HIs feet were sore, and he was hot and exhausted. Yet it was all worth it as he came over a ridge and saw the small town just below him. He could make out thatched roofs and wooden homes. At the center was a small, white colored building with what looked like two statues in front of it.

The whole town looked like a dump, with only the white building in the center looking even remotely well taken care of. Even the wall surrounding the town, looked to be in disrepair as he saw some gaps or makeshift barricades in front of holes in the wall.

Still, it was a town. Damion was ready to go rushing down and beg for help, but a number of things came to mind.

One, he was sure he was not on earth. Would he even be speaking the same language as whoever lived in this town?

What would they think of him? Would they be human like him, or something else? Something dangerous?

"Not Spree. Spree gone. Stupid." Another gremlin said to the first, hitting it on the head with its club and starting a fight between the two as they swung their clubs at each other.

"Hey!" Damion shouted, his voice stopping the fight and the five creatures stood and saluted.

If he went into town with these things following him, who knew what would happen.

The gremlins looked at each other, then at him and Damion could see an internal conflict in their eyes. They wanted to go with him to protect him, yet they seemed compelled to obey his words.

"Look, if I don't come back in half an hour you can come running in and get me." Damion said, hoping to at least relive them of their stress.

The creatures saluted again, though they still seemed worried. Damion put it out of his mind though as he walked down toward the town.

Entering the town felt like entering a ghost town. Creaking window frames and empty streets. Somewhere he heard a dog barking, but he saw no one around.

Most surprising was the buildings themselves, they looked a lot smaller then when he had been farther away. If he wanted to entering a building, he would have had to probably crouch or kneel low to avoid hitting his head; or even his shoulders. He was at least five feet ten inches. Those doors looked fit for something at four feet at the highest.

"H-Hello. Is anyone there?" Damion called as he walked around, looking for any sign of life.

He heard the sound of a door creaking, and Damion turned and saw what looked like someone looking through a crack in a door. He waved and walked over.

"H-hello? I need help W-wait!" Damion shouted as the door slammed shut and he thought he heard the sound of something being pushed against it.

Damion moved over to the window and pressed his face against it. He looked around, but the dust and shadows made looking inside difficult. With a sigh, he stepped back and went back onto the road of the town and kept looking around.

Damion was staring to get a little creeped out now, as he stood in what to him was a ghost town. Years of horror films now started to rear their ugly head, and he began to half expect zombies to come around a corner or slowly start walking out of the doors and windows. Or a cult of children to sacrifice him to a corn field. Or even a cult of people who think the end times were upon them and he would end up running away and getting his genitals impaled by a pick axe.

'If I ever get home, I'm never reading another creepypasta for as long as I live.' Damion thought, now starting to feel very exposed and defenseless. And a feeling that something, someone, was watching him despite the silence.

A shadow of movement at the corner of his eyes, made Damion turn sharply and look down a street that led to the center of the town where that building in the center he had seen was. Since he was closer, Damion felt sure that the building had to be some sort of church or other holy building. It was probably made of marble or something, and following the thought that someone was here he walked down that street.

He heard the creaking sound of a door slamming from the church building made Damion slowly approach it. He saw two large statues that stood at the entrance that looked like strange thin horse like creatures. They looked nothing like horses back on earth, their bodies were way different in terms of form and shape. And they had wings and horns as well. On the chest of these statues were crest like symbols that showed a sun and a moon.

Maybe there was a priest, preacher or rabbi or someone inside. Given the buildings well taken care of exterior, it would seem that someone had to be living here.

'God damn it.' Damion thought with a groan and slowly he made his way to the door. He was cutting all horror films from his life if he ever got back home again. He did not need this paranoia right now.

'Maybe I should have brought my little body guards.' He thought, as he pushed open the door and looked inside. As outside, the inside looked well taken care of. But like outside, it was empty.

Well, not fully empty. There, on an alter, Damion saw what looked like an offering of food and drink. A big jug of some liquid and bowls of fruit that he amazingly could recognize. Bananas. Apples.

A slight growling in his stomach, and a sudden thirst in his throat reminded Damion that he was both thirsty and hungry after his trek down to this town. He looked around, before rushing to the alter.

Some might call what he was about to do blasphemy. But Damion didn't really care, he was hungry and it would be rather dumb to let food go to waste.

He made a few taste tests of the fruit, just to make sure it was fresh and well real. It was, and her tore into the bananas and apples first. He almost gasped at the sheer sweetness of the apple, and the banana. He then checked the jug and saw it was water. He grabbed and downed it, gasping when he had final quenched his thirst.

A scream to his right made Damion jump almost out of his skin, and knock the bowl to the ground and drop the jug to the ground where it hit the floor with a crash.

Damion swallowed the food in his mouth, and stared at what he saw before him. It looked like a pony, and by look like all Damion could see was a slight resemblance. Ears. Hooves. tail. Mane. But the similarities ended there.

The coat was a deep blue, and the mane a aqua green color and styled into a bun. The eyes looked nothing like a pony's eyes from his world. They were bigger, and looked more human like. The face was smaller, and the mouth more expressive then a horses on his world; as by the look of horror and fear that he saw on the creatures face.

Oh and it had wings. Did that make it a Pegasus? oh and it wore clothes, in this case what looked like nun robes. In its hooves it held what looked like a broom, pointed at him like a make shift weapon.

Well, this was not what Damion had thought of when he thought of civilized life in this world. But, he would take anything at this point. But first, he should probably try to avoid an incident.

He slowly lifted his hand, but the pony like creature screamed and charged, swinging the broom at him.

The pony shouted something in a language that Damion had no idea what it meant, and the pony swung at him again. Damion dove, hitting the ground and pulled himself up as he ran to the door. But as he reached the door, it burst open and something blunt struck him across the head and sending him to the ground with a thud.

Damion's world spun, and his vision was blurry as he looked up at other pony creature surrounding him with various clubs and sticks. Amongst the pony creatures one stood out the most. Wearing the equivalent of what he suspected was a preacher or bishops robes, this pony was bigger and more muscular then the one in the nun robes. He could tell even in his blurry state of vision that this guy was a male.

It seemed to be speaking loudly, then to the nun pony who said something and pointed to the alter. The bishop pony looked shocked and shouted something. Then a number of ponies began striking him with their clubs, and Damion screamed as he threw his arms over his head to protect it from the blows.

The blows kept coming, and Damion kept still, trying not to black out. He felt sure he was going to die, when he felt something thrown over him and he was then dragged out into the light.

Damion groaned, blinking as he saw that he was in a net and being dragged out into the town. All around he saw more ponies, all who looked shallow eyed and well...desperate. Fearful. He groaned, as he was yanked into the center of the town and left, all the ponies around him.

He looked around, the wide almost fanatical look in the eyes of all the ponies as they surrounded him. Each had a rock in its hoof, and the bishop pony stood at the front, holding a book in his hooves and shouting something, probably preaching. A sudden horror came to Damion's mind as he started to get a cast the first stone feeling.

The bishop pony turned, pointed at him and shouted something. Even though Damion couldn't understand the words, he was sure it was probably along the lines of.

And with that, the ponies began to throw their rocks. One struck across Damion's head, knocking him to the ground and drawing blood as his vision spun. He curled up, covering his head as the hail of rocks kept up, sending waves of pain up around his body.

Damion screamed as he felt the rocks assail his body. Fear of death rearing into his mind. But within that fear, he felt another emotion.

Anger. At what, he didn't know. The ponies? The fear of death? Stubborn survival instinct? He wasn't sure what caused the anger, but as he growled he felt a sudden burning sensation in the gauntlet on his arm and he saw the gem on it began to glow brightly. The burning sensation became an inferno and with a roar Damion thrust his fist up and slammed the gauntleted hand down with all his might.

A scream went up, and the sound of bodies hitting the ground made Damion look up as the rocks stopped. The ponies around him had all been blow back by a few inches, and some had been knocked so off their feet or hooves, they were on the ground. All eyes looking at him in fear as he stood up on shaky, unsteady legs.

"For the Master!" A shout went up, and down the street Damion saw the sights of the five brown gremlins charging toward him. They leapt up and landed on ponies, beginning to smack them about with their clubs.

Panic followed that. Some ponies turned and ran, in fact most ran. But others tried to fight back against the gremlins. Damion immediately saw that the favor of battle was in the gremlins side. For one, they were quicker due to their size in comparison to the ponies and these brown gremlins were obviously trained in battle, being able to dodge or block the clumsy strikes of the ponies before hitting back or leaping onto their backs and slamming them about the head with their clubs.

But of course, some ponies managed to stab some of the gremlins with their pitchforks, but the creatures did not seem as bothered by such injures, shrugging them off and fighting like mad.

Damion felt his legs give out and he fell to his knees before flopping onto the ground, his body was tired and in such pain he was barely able to keep his eyes open. The ponies were all now running, and the brown gremlins, some injured and bleeding, surrounded Damion in a shield like formation. The gremlins snarled at the ponies, some now holding pitchforks they had taken from some of the unconscious or dead ponies.

Three of the gremlins grabbed Damion and with surprising strength, managed to lift him, while the other two guarded the sides as the three gremlins carried him out of town.

Damion didn't say anything as he breathed a sigh of relief. Despite his uncertainty of these creatures, they seemed intent on helping him. He let himself close his eyes, and drift into darkness as he felt his body carried off.

Gnarl paced back and forth, rubbing his bread with a scowl. When the browns he had sent to guard their new overlord after he ran away in shock, he had not expected them to return with his body battered and bloody. The fact that minions, browns no less, had been forced to carry their master in a retreat was not only shocking it was a blow to their status as minions of the overlord!

Their master was hurt, and after so long with so many loses, they could not risk losing a master after finally getting one.

"Well Mortis?" Gnarl asked, looking to the dark cloaked blue as he attended the Overlord, who lay unconscious on a slab of stone as a makeshift bed.

"He will not meet the reaper." Mortis said, as he finished the last bit of healing.

"Not sure. He took a heavy blow to the head. It might be a few hours. Then we will know the full extent of any injuries." Mortis grumbled.

As Mortis shuffled off, Gnarl began sending orders to the minions. He set a party out to hunt down a boar or something, no doubt suspecting the master would be hungry when he woke, and then began setting orders to get the construction on the future New Dark Tower up and running; though process was slow without proper tools, so far all they had managed was to outfit some natural cave rooms into a semblance of living quarters and Spawning Chamber to rest the Brown Hive. By the time he was finished, he heard a groan coming from the Overlord.

"Ah sire, it is good to see you awake and well, but try not to move. You have had a rough day it seems, and we do not wish to see you strain yourself." Gnarl said as he shuffled over.

The Overlord jumped a bit when Gnarl approached, before wincing and laying back down.

"Ah, yes we never did properly introduce ourselves to each other. I am Gnarl, Minion Master and devoted servant of Darkness." Gnarl said with a bow, "And what might I call you Master?"

"Hail Overlord Damion. Tell me, are you well? You had some nasty bumps on your head when the brown minions I sent to guard you returned you here. Are you feeling dizzy? How many claws am I holding up?" Gnarl asked as he held up a claw.

Overlord Damion blinked, "Uh...I'm fine. And two claws. What do you mean by Overlord?"

"Ah, I suspected you would ask," Gnarl said with a nod, "You see sire, we minions are servants of darkness and evil. It is our lot and joy in life to serve the master of such forces, the Overlord. That Overlord is you now master, and we minions will serve you without question and with undying loyalty."

Gnarl gave a slight bow, but noticed that Overlord Damion still looked confused.

"W-wait? I can't be this...Overlord thing. I'm not evil." Damion said, "Well, not more then most people."

Gnarl cackled, "Ah, I have served masters who denied their nature, but the Hand always reveals the truth."

"The Hand of Evil," Gnarl said again, "forged from the fires of the universes creation, the focal point of an Overlord's power and the center point of all evil. The gauntlet which you wear right now."

Overlord Damion blinked, then lifted his gauntleted arm, the Hand of Evil glowing darkly in the torch light.

"If this thing is suppose to be some evil artifact, how the hell did my grandfather find it?" Overlord Damion asked.

Gnarl smiled, "Ah, well you see that is a long story. To be short, long ago we minions did not reside on this world we are now. A terrible magical cataclysm literally tore us from our world and deposited us on this one. In the chaos, the Hand was lost in this transportation and flung across the multiverse. It must have landed in your world, and soon it found you."

"Yes, I suspect it may. Not everyone goes through being pulled across universes and into the highest posisiton of power in such a short time as you master. I will be glad to give you time alone to get use to the adjustments." Gnarl offered with a bow of his head.

"What?" Overlord Damion said, "No! I don't want to get use to it." He stood up, staggering a moment before standing straight and thrust his gauntled arm out.

"Look, if you need this thing so bad. Take it. But I'm not cut out to be a focal point of evil." Overlord Damion said.

Gnarl was somewhat surprised by this. Who would turn down such power!? But he smiled a coy smile and shook his head.

"I'm afraid I can't master," He said with a chuckle, "You see, despite what you might think or say, the Hand has chosen you. I can no more separate it from you then one could separate a fish from swimming."

"The Hand is an artifact of evil. But while it is a tool alone, it possess some sentience. The Hand chooses its master, and only its chosen master can wield and wear it," Gnarl stated, pointing a claw at Overlord Damion, "There is something in you that the Hand senses. Something evil. Something that, despite whatever you tell yourself lurks in the darkest recesses of your soul. You are the chosen Overlord of the Hand of Evil sire."

Overlord Damion looked at the Hand of Evil with wide eyes, confused comprehension coming into his eyes. Gnarl could not help but chuckle. He had served masters liked this once in the past, and while all had gone to become powerful Overlords, there was still always something delightful in seeing someone who believed themselves good to become aware of their inner nature.

Gnarl smirked, "Well...to be honest, we weren't trying to bring you master. Our ritual was to bring the Hand of Evil to us, so that we might find a new Overlord. We had no idea it had already chosen a master."

"Well can't you send me back!?" Damion asked, looking somewhat fearful. And yet, Gnarl suspected something else under that.

Gnarl took a slight step back, "I am afraid not sire. Travel across the multiverse is difficult, and it was a miracle that you yourself were not torn apart by the energies that brought the Hand to us. But I am afraid that sending you back would be almost impossible."

Gnarl gagged as Overlord Damion moved with a surprising speed and grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up off the ground.

"You mean I can't go back home!" Overlord Damion shouted, and Gnarl choked somewhat as he tightened his grip around his neck. Gnarl, while certainly afraid for his life now, still could not help but smile at the look of inner rage and a desire to rip him apart that he saw in his Overlords eyes.

For a moment, Gnarl wasn't sure if Overlord Damion would crush his wind pipe or not, but as quickly as he had grabbed him, Overlord Damion released Gnarl, making him grunt as his old bones groaned from the fall, and stepped back and flop down onto the rock slab bed.

"I know this must be a lot to take in," Gnarl started, taking it slow now least he incite his masters rage again, "But while you may be pulled from your native world, you are now on a new world, in a position of power with your own personal army ready to serve you. What more could any creature want?"

Gnarl bowed his head, and slowly made his retreat. He suspected that in time, his new master would see the position he was in and since he would be unable to return to his own world, take the offer so generously given to him. But for now, he needed time to come to terms with it all.

Gnarl then set orders to minions to prepare for the Initiation Ceremony, and when the hunting Browns returned to prepare the boar they had killed for the Overlords dinner. Once Overlord Damion came around, they would need to initiate him fully as the Overlord, so that he could use the full force of the Hand of Evil.

Damion sat there, face in his hands. The cold metal of the gauntlet, the Hand of Evil, felt even colder against his flesh. He snarled, grabbed it and tried to yank it off. But like always, it stayed stuck to his hand. He screamed and slammed his fist into the ground, again and again, hitting his gauntleted fist into the stone till he grew tired.

'Mom. Dad.' Damion thought sadly. His family had just lost his grandfather, now they had lost him. What would they do? How would they react? He didn't even get to say goodbye.

Damion sat onto his rear and leaned against the rock he had been laying on, staring up at the dark ceiling of this cave he was in.

Damion looked at the gauntlet he wore again. Gnarl's words began to play back in his head. Was he really evil? Did this gauntlet sense something in him...dark?

Damion didn't consider himself evil. True, maybe he had some thoughts that others might not agree with. But did that make him evil?

He shook his head as he stood, wiping his eyes again. He was stuck upon a world that was alien, and if his memories of that town of pony things, hostile to him. Yet he had, for whatever reason, an army of gremlins or minions at his disposal. If he was stuck here...why not take what was offered to him?

He wasn't a survival expert. If he went out on his own, he would probably die. And even if he could not get home, Damion did not want to die. He might one day find a way to get back home. That small hope, it was all he had even if it was foolish or false hope.

Gnarl watched the Dark Crystals, what few they had with them after the cataclysm that brought them here, were set up with the proper runes and circles. His ears twitched as he heard footsteps behind him. Gnarl turned and smiled. The minions around stopped their work and bowed.

"Shut it!" Overlord Damion snapped, "I'm still rather angry about what you did to me. Taking me from my life and family on my world."

Gnarl stepped back slightly from the anger he saw in his master's eyes. He smiled, seeing the sheer rage in those eyes.

"But," Overlord Damion started, "If I'm stuck here then it would be stupid to turn down whatever advantages I can get to survive on this world. So if this Hand thing thinks I'm an Overlord. Then fine."

Gnarl laughed, "Excellent! We have already nearly finished the preparations for your initiation. Stand there in the center of the circle sire, and with the energies of the Dark Crystals, we will attune your body full to the Hand of Evil."

Overlord Damion scowled, but walked to the center of the circle. Gnarl snapped orders to the minions to get back to work, and in no time at all they circles were finished.

"Quaver! Begin!" Gnarl shouted, and he watched as the court jester got his band up and going into a tune of beating drums as minions danced around the edge of the circles, their natural magical energies already getting into work.

Overlord Damion watched as the circle began to glow, and the Dark Crystals as well. Within moments beams of dark energy shot from the crystals and towards Overlord Damion's body, lifting him off his feet.

"AAAAH!" Overlord Damion screamed, his body twisting as the dark energies of the Hand and the Crystals worked in unison to unite and attune themselves to the Overlord's body.

Gnarl watched with inner glee, soon a new Overlord would be birthed fully and a new dark domain would be born. Or, if the Overlords body be unfit to handle the full energies of the Hand....

Overlord Damion kept screaming, until the ritual was finally over and his body fell to the ground as the energies vanished and the minions shouted before collapsing to their knees in deep bows to the prone body of their Overlord.

"Master?" He asked, gasping as Overlord Damion's hand shot and grabbed his throat.

Overlord Damion groaned, before looking up at Gnarl with glowing yellow eyes. Gnarl smiled, seeing the ritual was a success.

"Ah sire, it is good to see you well. Now, with you fully as our accepted Overlord, we can move to establish a dark domain over these lands." Gnarl said with rapture, as Overlord Damion released his neck and stood up.

"We do...what I say." Overlord Damion said, looking down at Gnarl with a hard look.

"Of course sire. We can talk of future events later. For now we must celebrate your ascension." Gnarl said with a bow.

"You are our new Overlord!" Gnarl shouted, thrusting a claw up in cheer. All around Minions cheered.

The Overlord Chronicles

by ShadowWalking18

Prolouge: The New Overlord