Wheaties may be the breakfast of champions, but beer and pancakes is the breakfast of the gods.
I may be getting a little far ahead of myself, sorry. Anyway, I kept my mouth shut about how unfamiliar I was with my current state, and simply asked to be led to the bath, so I could clean myself off. I felt dusty as hell, and my joints were stiff, like I hadn't moved in quite some time. Bray, upon hearing that, said he understood completely, given that I'd been dead a thousand years.
"A thousand years, huh?" I asked, as I stripped off a black garment that I'd discovered had been covering my body. While the moths had had a feast, it was still intact enough, surprisingly, to be identifiable as an ornate funeral shroud. Pretty nice one, all things considered.
"Yes, milord Grogar," Bray continued, bowing every other sentence. The guy was clearly terrified of me, and based just on body language, it was obvious that something was very wrong, and that he was afraid of how I'd react when he told me what it was.
The bathing chamber we were in was a pretty clear sign of what was probably wrong: It was dusty, practically abandoned. The water pumps apparently still worked, which was why the swimming pool-sized bathing area was filled with warm water, but it was clear that no one had done any cleaning in a long time. I got the impression that no one was expecting me to come back anymore.
As I dipped myself into the warm, somewhat dirty water, I asked, "So... what is the state of my domain, Bray?" Best to get that out of the way, first. If I was having a dream, it might be entertaining to see how bad a situation my mind had cooked up for me. I have a very active imagination, after all.
Bray hemmed and hawed, which I'd never actually seen someone do before, so it took me a moment to recognize it for what it was, and then began to say, "Well, there's really nothing worth bringing to your atten..."
I cut him off, right there. "Bray," I stated, bluntly, "you can either tell me the truth now, or you can try to lie, and when I discover the truth, whatever punishment you're afraid of receiving will seem like the sweetest bliss in comparison to what I will do to you."
As threats go, I feel that was a very effective one, especially in the perfectly calm, almost conversational, tone I delivered it in.
Bray went very pale, an impressive feat for a donkey, and then hung his head, sadly, and admitted, "It has been awful, master. After your defeat, we reclaimed your remains from the battlefield, and then retreated here, to Tambelon. At first, we expected you to revive immediately, so we all waited with baited breath for your return. We soon discovered we could no longer leave this realm, after Tambelon was banished to the realm of shadows by the alicorns, your sworn enemies. But as weeks became moons, and moons became years, and years became centuries, your subjects, the Trogs, decided you were not coming back. Oh, some of them send a pittance of food, coin, and slaves to keep the palace maintained, but what we have is barely enough to keep the throne room clean, and see to the needs of the staff..."
I held up a hoof to stop Bray from going further. I had a feeling that, if allowed to, he'd go on for hours. "Remind me, Bray," I began, my voice calm, almost soothing, "Who did I leave in charge, should anything happen to me? Did I actually place you in charge of anything?" I had a suspicion, given Bray's behavior, that this 'Grogar' he thought I was, was some kind of tyrant. And tyrants, on the whole, have a very particular way of doing things.
"No one, milord," Bray responded, promptly, springing to full attention. "And no, I hold no real rank in Tambelon."
Of course: Leaving a second in command means you have someone prepared to stab you in the back and take power at their first opportunity. Classic Tyrant thinking. I inquired further, "And what of infrastructure? Command structure? Did I leave any instructions for how to maintain my domain, should I be away?"
"None, master," Bray answered, instantly.
Typical. Let me explain something to you all, here and now: Tyranny never works in the long term. Tyrants, those who take control of a region and rule with an iron dick-tatorship, are selfish individuals who only care about three things: Their own power, their own pleasure, and removing any and all threats to their reign. They don't establish an effective chain of command that will survive their own death. In fact, the typical tyrant will take great pains to keep his underlings at each other's throats, to keep them for trying for his own. Tyrants don't build infrastructure, since the money that would be used to do so would be better used filling the treasury, buying liquor, throwing soirees, and building a new seraglio to house an unreasonably large harem. Tyrants don't invest in their own domain that much, and if you want to build a kingdom that will last through the ages, you have to do just that.
Tyrannies tend to end with the death of the tyrant, even if it from was natural causes, for those very reasons. Mind you, you have a few enlightened tyrants here and there, who use tyrrany as a means to an end, but as Vlad 'The Impaler' could testify, even if your tyrrany brings about a golden age to your struggling little kingdom that was unmatched by anything in the past, and would remain unmatched centuries later, it ultimately falls apart in the end.
And yet, petty tyrants rise and fall anyways.
But enough of that for now.
"Given that," I stated, bluntly, "I did not make any contingencies for the event of my death, I would say that, given the circumstances, the fact that I have a palace at all is nothing short of miraculous. The fact that you have done as well as you have is admirable. You are to be rewarded... just as soon as I decide what an appropriate reward should be." Bray actually seemed to perk up at that. "But for now," I continued, "I'll need a bucket of clean water to finish washing off with, and a mirror. Hop to it."
I didn't need to tell Bray twice. As he rushed off, I briefly pondered what Grogar had done to win the loyalty of that donkey. A loyalty so strong it had literally lasted for a thousand years...
-----------------------------------------
It's official, I thought to myself as I examined my new body in the mirror, I'm a blue goat.
To be fair, I was an intimidating goat, with red eyes, pointy teeth, and horns typical of the Altai Mountain goat, which has some of the most impressively daunting horns of the species. Still, I was a goat, and by the sound of things, I was not just any goat, but Sauron in goat form.
I didn't mind dreaming that I was a goat, I hope you'll understand that. If there's one thing that Goat Simulator taught me, it's that goats are the shit. They rock, they rule, and they kick serious ass. They're also fucking metal: Name one real animal that appears on heavy metal album covers that is more awesome! Snakes? They're quadriplegic iguanas. Wolves? Seriously overrated, they're just wild dogs with an overinflated rep. Bats? Ozzy can bite the head off of one of those in one go. Goats would give him a much harder time. Besides, when you're rocking out, what are you throwing? The wolf? The snake? The bat? Hell no, you're throwing the goat. The prosecution rests, your honor. How do you find? On the charge of goats being metal as fuck, I find them guilty!
I'm going a little bit off the tracks, sorry. I do that, sometimes. Please forgive me.
It was simply a surprising transition, finding myself in a goat-body, instead of my human body. I normally don't dream I'm in an animal body. The last time I had, I'd dreamed I was a gorilla. Weird fucking dream, but let's not get side-tracked again. This was an abnormal dream, but to me, it wasn't quite that abnormal.
Still, as I looked myself over, I considered the possibility that I'd look even more hella-badass if I had a cape or something. Although, if I did have a wardrobe, it was almost certain to be in the same condition as that burial shroud I'd been wearing, if not worse. Still, I had the feeling that I'd be able to rock a three-piece suit so hard that it would rip a hole in the time-space continuum.
With a shrug, I turned from the mirror, and said, "Alright, so, I understand that there will be beer and pancakes."
"Of course, master," Bray said with a nod. "Right this way."
--------------------------------
You know, when I had said that I'd wanted twenty virgins to form a throne for me to sit on, I'd said it in the expectation that they'd be sexy ladies, not mares. However, even if the mares making up my throne had been humans instead, these would not have been attractive: These would not be the kind of girls that most guys envision when they picture slave girls, that being women in incredibly revealing clothing and possessing supple, appealing curves. These mares were very clearly undernourished, terribly fatigued, and had very obvious scars that, if I had to make a guess, were the kind where someone had taken a whip to them, and most assuredly not in the fun and/or kinky way.
A whip can do a lot of damage, as a dominatrix can tell you: It takes a lot of training to be able to use a whip in such a way that it doesn't scar the victim. A whip, properly utilized, will break the sound barrier during its travels, which is the source of that infamous cracking sound. A strike like that can strip flesh, sever fingers, and take out an eye. It could even disembowel, in the wrong hands. Whoever had been whipping these mares was no dominatrix: The scarring clearly indicated that while they'd taken pains to avoid the legs, face, or underbelly, they'd considered everything else fair game, and had whipped these mares viciously and without mercy for an extended period.
The only reason I didn't suplex Bray right through the dining table seated in front of my "throne" was the fact that these were scars: There was not a single one of those injuries that could possibly have been delivered within the last six months. Still, I was going to command, as soon as I felt it would be appropriate, that Bray not whip any of the slaves in the palace. Seriously, those mares hurt just to look at.
Looking at the slightly trembling throne, I stated with absolute honesty, "That does not look anywhere near as comfortable as I had envisioned. Still, a solid A for effort, ladies. Disentangle yourselves, and then bring me a chair, while I decide what to have you do next."
As the mares did as ordered, I looked over at the dining table. Or maybe I should say banquet table: This massive, oaken affair was obviously intended to seat dozens, if not hundreds, and was covered, end to end, with plates of steaming pancakes. Now, I will admit, I can eat pancakes like a motherfucker when I'm hungry, but this was just ri-ding-dong-dang-diculous. I'd said I had a mighty hunger, and Bray, along with the cooking staff, had taken me at my word. How the fuck they'd managed this many pancakes in half an hour was a miracle of logistics and the culinary arts.
Then again, you never knew what you were capable of until you had a gun to your head, they say, and having 'Grogar' command something seemed to be the equivalent of having a twelve-pounder cannon pointed directly at your face... and/or your nuts.
I'd need to remember my orders would have that kind of effect in this dream. While I'm certain it would seem amusing to tell someone here to 'Go Fuck Yourself', it would be rather horrifying to see how someone might try to accomplish it, when that heavily motivated.
"In fact," I added, after a moment's thought, "go ahead and take a few plates off of the other end, and eat. I don't think I can eat quite this many pancakes in one sitting, and I'd rather not see this all go to waste."
The mares, after a moment's hesitation, nodded and began to do so. I looked over to Bray, and asked, "Are you hungry?"
Bray shook his head, and said, "No, master, thank you for asking. I ate earlier."
"Good," I said, then turned my attention towards my breakfast of beer and pancakes, and began searching for the most crucial component, the one that would make this breakfast perfect... and found it missing.
"Bray, where is the maple syrup?"
Saddened, the donkey admitted, "There has not been a bottle of the syrup of maples in your palace in over three centuries, not since someone put it away without placing the cap back on the bottle. Ants got into it, and... we have yet to locate another bottle, and maples are not to be found in Tambelon, so we cannot make more."
Fuck a duck, I hate it when someone does that. I was horribly tempted to make that an offense punishable by death, but I decided to put that off until later.
In perfect seriousness, I told Bray, "Pancakes without maple syrup. My realm has truly fallen upon dark days, for such a thing to come to pass."
"I could not possibly agree more, master," Bray agreed immediately.
AND ANOTHER CHAPTER, BECAUSE REASONS!!! OR POSSIBLY RAISINS!!!
i hope Bucking Nonsense will figure out where his formula went wrong with the last two stories.
I need this one to succeed!
7070132 When Bucking does a story in this vein (clueless human sucker in a villain suit), it's pretty good. He's 1.5/2 so far, the Sombra story getting -.5 on account of not being done and all.
7070132 What was wrong with the Tirek one? I don't remember there being anything bad about it, except the Elements being so easily manipulated.
7070281
Actually i must be thinking of another one, non-chronologically. The Sombra one, iirc.
All fear the Overgoat. Do not imgine you can hide from it.
At first I thought this was a crossover with Fallen London, and I was excited.
When I saw Grogar, I was disappointed.
But then I saw that it was Bucking Nonsense, and was even more excited.
A very lovely effort and one I hope is done the way you do. Not that others expect. Though it is a shame the sombra one is ended so.
Clearly it is time to begin proper colonization and exploitation of The Shadow Realm.
I headcanon Grogar will explain away his oddity as a result of floating in the void of limbo with Death as his only companion who constantly yammered enlightened trivia in his ears for countless years in a timeless place.
No maple syrup?!
Nooooooooooo!
I'm getting cancer from this story...good please continue
I so hope this realm will become something like South Park's hell:D
So... If what I'm presuming is a human has somehow managed to take Grogar's body, does that mean there's a very psychotic-looking human with the soul of a Grogar in another dimension-world thingy? That'd be something to see.
"What are these tentacles at the end of my hooves?!"
7070090
Love me some New Vegas references. Please, continue vigorously and without abatement.
7070352
This is now my headcanon for Grogar. Have a goatee. Moustaches are overrated.
This is utterly and deliciously evil. Therefore it is amazing. The being currently known as Grogar is hilarious and has clearly been reading the 100 Overlord Tips. Looking forward to more and what he will do. Evil never dies.
And as such this story has almost reached my fav pile of storys...
7070674 The Evil Overlord List may be an old list but it is still a good one to use as a basic reference guide (supposing your enemies have not acquired a copy, too).
Well, Vlad Tepes or Vlad The Impaler is considered a hero in slavic lands and the only reason he is under bad light is because of germanic stories. He prevented the occupation of his land by using brutal psychological tactics and even though he had violent tendecies he was a fair ruler.
And tyrant in essence means that the person has the complete power over govermental decisions and court, an authoritarian sovereign without reference to character.
So as a result all the absolute monarch through human history are tyrants as well as certain heroes Ceasar, Napeleon, Great Petro. And if you look carefully you would realise the fact that until the 20 century people have been mostly ruled by tyrants. Another fact is those people played a significant role in the development of their country even though they oppressed their own people. Russia was nothing before Petro's reforms, just a backwater country.
Almost every ruler is a terrible person, the most borrowed book from UN's library is ‘Heads of State and State Officials for International Crimes’. So as you can see everyone is terrible and if you would just give them opportunity people will exploit others. That has nothing to do with evil, it is just human nature.
Besides, the tyrant which you described are in minority because if someone does that in real life they are not rulers they are corpses because they die at the first sight of a proper rebellion.
7070782
I agree, someone's greatest leader is often seen as another person's tyrant. It is largely perspective. You mentioned Vlad Tepes, he saved Eastern Europe from being conquered by the Ottomans, thus preventing Islam from spreading further into Europe. While his methods were certainly, questionable, he used what resources he had as best he could. Maximum effects with minimal resources. While by modern standards, his behavior could be seen as abhorrent it is unfair to apply 21st century morality to the Middle Ages.
more plz
7070823 They were conquered anyway, his own brother and king of Hungary betrayed him. Later Hungary was conquered by Ottomans.
7070869
Oh yeah forgot about that. I am more into classical history than Medival.
7070753 THIS Should be rather interesting then
MOAR, DARNIT [size=2emMOAR1]
Yup...this just got awesome, with a metal Goat and plenty of pancakes!! Once again, I say I'm impressed! Gods DAMN I love your writing style as well as story telling style! It always gets me and makes me smile!
That said, looking forward to how this is gunna go. How will the Overgoat use magic? Will he start getting his slaves into proper shape so they might (should he decide to get over his human perspective on bestiality) attend him? What, is the purpose of potpourri? Seriously, the fuck does that exist and still keeps demanding such a high price, I ASK YOU!?!?!?!?
These questions and other burn within me!! Best of luck and looking forward to more!! FOR GREAT JUSTICE!!
You know, I never viewed goats as metal before but you've convinced me, goats are metal as fuck.
looking forward to more, many wonderful shenanigans ensue I'm sure
Didn't you already do this idea?
Oh brilliant! I can't wait to read more! Make more or I will find you and point a twelve-pounder cannon at your head and/or nuts.
Not the maple syrup!
I don't like being the buzzkiller but you really like writing humans inside evil villains over and over don't you?
Pfft, why not? Have your obligatory like and fave.
By the way, on an unrelated note, someone came along and commented on 1000 Mares, telling me how similar it is to Save/Destroy Equestria, another even asked me if I had heard of it or if I was inspired by it.
*Looks at the 'Also Liked' tab
Wait, what's that doing there?
FOR THE OVERGOAT'S GLORY, MOAR!!!!
Ah yes, more shenanigans in the same vein as your Tirek and Sombra tales (hoping the latter will come off hiatus in the near future).
Grogar with the mind of a human... Dis gunna be Awesome
This is a great start, and I'm really looking forward to seeing where this goes. I am, however, not getting as invested in this one as I have been in past stories of yours, namely because you have a habit of writing the beginnings of masterpieces but not actually finishing them. I really want to enjoy this story, but the reminder that the story that led me to you is still a long way from being finished, after a lengthy hiatus period, makes me worry for the fate of this one, promising though it certainly is.
I have been awaiting a story with Tambelon and an "evil" human for a long time. I will be curious to see how succesfull this guy will be.
+1 caprine authority?
What a smash to my childhood! Good to see people still remember ol' Grogar. I'll sit to read this later. I know it'll be good!
Could we possibly hope for a story about Grogar raiding Celestia's pantry?
7070281 Ironically? Everything after the introduction of Grogar. It all just sort of fell apart after that, the last couple of chapters honestly felt like Bucking just went "end already!" Mega disappointing.
7070099
Okay, now to sit in front of my inbox and wait for the next chapter to come out.
Lovely work so far, this looks like it's going to be a great ride, haha.
7071962
"Your majesty, Grogar has breached the castles defenses. Apparently his goal was theft."
"I see, what did he steal?"
"He stole... 40 cakes."
Well, this should be entertaining.
Shouldn't there be a 'human' tag?
This appears to be interesting. You have my full and undivided Tracking!
7072305
static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/40cakes_4996.jpg