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That was the PastDisclaimer: I don't own Overlord. Those rights belong to Codemasters and Triumph studios.
It was a hollow feeling. Here he was the master of this domain, nay the god. Servants obeyed his every command, they had no choice after he slew the Forgotten God. Occasionally there were problems with the dwarves and Halflings, yet they were dead so they would simply respawn in moments. The same applied to the many minions that lulled about, undead minions that is, and not of the kind he had grown accustomed to. It was in these rare instances of idleness, he removed his helmet.
Another wraith filled his cup. Sipping it slowly his thoughts turned to the world above. Quilt would pay for his treachery, that is if the minions hadn't done so already. Those were the days, good old bad days, as Gnarl would put. If anything this recent excursion had done, it was add a little excitement. Admittedly, he enjoyed his earlier exploits, conquering the lands, slaying would be heroes, and now this.
Oh how he lon
The Price of LoyaltyDisclaimer: I don't own Overlord those rights belong to Codemasters.
The Price of Loyalty
The rain splattered against his leathery skin. It was a downpour as the storm raged throughout the countryside. A crash of thunder drummed signaling a flash of lightning.
He stumbled slipping under the mud. The minion felt himself tumble down. Groaning he tried to pick himself up. A pain coursed through his ankle. Just a minor sprain, if need be he would limp away. Not that it would last long, his kind were very durable. Inches away he could see his jester scepter and hat. It wouldn't do to escape without those items. Positioning it against his head and taking the other in his hand, he was ready to leave. So far, he had made it to the outskirts of the village of Spree. The
mechanici want to kiss every aching wound you have,
bandage your heart every time it bleeds,
and patch up your mind over and over
because not a single tear deserves to fall
from your brandy-drenched eyes
but this dripping heart of mine can only feel
and the healing honey words it flames get caught
in the back of my throat and on the roof of my mouth
so i only have these passionate guttural cries
to tell you that i care all too much
and in order to fix you up again,
i would need to tear myself to tatters
and trade all of my working parts
for your leftover, fading pieces
but i just haven’t figured out how.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More