The Overlord Saga
Vol I. Past, Present, Future
Chapter 15: Alliances and Assassins
The plateau that overlooked the cracked, desolate plains that surrounded the Overlord’s Fortress had stood for centuries- an unmovable landmark that had been the site for many events in history. For instance, this was the same plateau where the Overlord had set up camp when she had fought the Uberlord for power. This was the same plateau that she had woken up on when she had first appeared in the land between life and death. This was where she had declared herself as the Overlord- so you could say that this was a very important place to her. It was miles upon miles away from the Fortress, but due to the flat terrain, one could still see the mighty fortress, even as it was under attack from the Insurgents. The Overlord took one look at her domain, then turned away, feeling a particularly bitter sting in her chest. She wanted to go home... But she knew she had to find the Wises before it was too late.
“We continue southward,” the Overlord explained, “There’s a series of cliffs and plateaus. It’s a whole different world from here on out.” She rested her scythe on her shoulder and began walking toward the edge of the plateau. Glancing down, she saw a smaller rock to jump on, one that jutted out of the side of the plateau. She hopped down, landing gracefully on the rock, then glancing up at the others, “Follow my lead.”
The Soul-Keeper kept close to the Overlord, nimbly hopping down in his cloak. The Overlord ran and leapt onto another rock formation, not daring to look down. “These cliffs go on for miles. It’s a cluster of rock formations that was here even before the Overlord was,” the Advisor explained to the Sexist as he landed ungracefully on the first rock.
Sexist scowled at the difficult path ahead, following close behind Jamie, who didn’t seem too thrilled about crossing the rocky terrain either. ‘It’ll be easy to get away out here. And if I know which way I’m going, I can get back to the Insurgent Leader easily’, Sexist thought. He stuck a hand in his pocket, finding a knife he’d been given by the Insurgent Leader years previously. ‘And these Wises... They’re probably just going to tell her how to kill the Insurgent Leader. I should make my move before she can find out. Or prevent her from coming back’. He couldn’t believe he was thinking all of this through- was he really a killer? He didn’t think so... But this was the person who had stolen his SOUL? How could he not want to kill her?
‘I’ll kill her and run for it. If I’m discreet enough, no one has to know...’ Sexist thought.
“You coming?” the Advisor asked, looking back at him. Sexist nodded and began walking again, feeling anxious. He pulled himself up onto a flat surface, glancing at where the Overlord was looking at the horizon, as if searching for something. ‘No one has to know...’ he thought grimly.
---
The Ninja-Lord was prowling the lower reaches of the Fortress. If you knew what the lower reachers of the Fortress was like, you would know that it was no easy task to enter there without completely losing your mind. However, fortunately enough, the Soul-Keeper was absent, much to the Ninja-Lord’s relief. He owned the lower reaches- commonly referred to as ‘the Dungeon’. Most knew the Dungeons as the worst place possible to be imprisoned, as the Soul-Keeper had free impregnation rights on whoever was stupid enough to anger the Overlord and end up in his domain.
Carefully, the Ninja-Lord peered around the corner, her heart racing as she stalked the corridors of the Dungeon. As she began to take her first step into the deserted hallway, something grabbed her from behind, causing her to yell. Grabbing her katana, she began to pull it out and attack whoever had her left wrist. She turned in time to see some black girl (or, at least, she thought she was black) donned in a cloak similar to the Soul-Keeper’s.
“What are you doing in my house!?” the girl shrieked.
The Ninja-Lord pulled the girl into the light of a nearby torch. She looked over the girl one more time- the glasses, the dark skin, the dark hair, and the Ninja-Lord allowed herself a slight chuckle. “... The Apprentice,” she murmured, “I thought you died.”
“Ninja-Lord!?” the Soul-Keeper’s Apprentice exclaimed, “I didn’t recognize you!”
The Apprentice was one of those rare things. No one was sure where she had come from. She just existed. She was, apparently, not black, too- a subject that had caused much confusion in the Overlord’s Army. The Overlord had ultimately written it off as a conspiracy.
“You live here,” the Ninja-Lord nodded, “Have you seen anything odd?”
“Other than you and the Soul-Keeper? No,” the Apprentice shook her head.
Frowning, the Ninja-Lord folded her arms and said, “We’re having some problems. I might need you to talk to the Overlord... Er... the Twin. She’s filling in for the Overlord right now. There’s some weird crap going on.”
“Where’s the Soul-Keeper?” the Apprentice asked.
The Ninja-Lord, seeing that the Apprentice had been left in the dark about the matters in the upper reaches of the Fortress, took the Apprentice by the arm and said, “I’ll explain on the way.”
---
The Twin had entered the Insurgent camp donned in the Overlord’s cloak, the Animal Tamer walking to her left and the Evocator at her right. She knew the Insurgent Leader would immediately know something was amiss since the Ninja-Lord and the Soul-Keeper were both not present, but figured that she could worm her way out of too much suspicion. The Soul-Keeper could have had bad Mexican food, she reasoned, and the Ninja-Lord could be off cleaning up the dead bodies left in the field where the battle had taken place. It seemed like good enough excuses... For the time being.
“I hear you wish to see me,” the Twin folded her arms, looking across where the Insurgent Leader was speaking with Canada, who Twin assumed was acting as the second-in-command due to Sexist being captured.
“I hear you didn’t send this letter to me,” the Insurgent Leader approached the Twin cautiously, still wary of an attack even during a truce. He extended his hand, clutching the letter and offered it to the Twin. As she took it, his hand jerked back, expecting some underhanded blow. However, the Twin merely shot him an annoyed look and began reading.
‘Do I say that I wrote this? What if I did write this? I mean... What if SHE wrote this?’ the Twin thought, then frowned, ‘This isn’t her handwriting though. Similar, but not.’ She shook her head, then glanced at the Insurgent Leader, “This wasn’t from me. And I suppose the message you sent me stating that you’d smash my forces in two weeks wasn’t from you.”
“I never sent anything of the sort,” the Insurgent Leader shook his head, “So... We have a problem.”
“We do have a problem. And... I believe, as the acting Overlord of this realm, we should strike up an alliance until we can solve this problem. It really pisses me off when people try to mess with me like this,” the Twin said haughtily, trying to mimic the Overlord as best as possible.
“You mean as the acting False One?” the Insurgent Leader cackled.
“You’re hilarious,” the Twin commented dryly.
The Insurgent Leader laughed, then extended his hand, “All right. Truce. For now, though. Once this is all over, we’re going back to where we started, okay? Meaning... I’m aiming all of my missiles at your fort, not someone else’s.”
“All your missiles?” the Twin quirked an eyebrow. ‘Missiles? Holy crap, the Overlord didn’t mention missiles!?’ She frowned, then asked, “What missiles?” She glanced around the camp, leaning against the scythe replica.
“Uh... the ones that I have oh-so- cleverly hidden around the forest,” the Insurgent Leader stammered.
“Liar,” the Twin remarked, pointing at the Insurgent Leader. She snapped her fingers, then looked over her shoulder, “Evocator. Take the Theurgist and go to the castle. I want to see what’s keeping the Ninja-Lord.”
“Got it!” the Evocator said cheerily, then trotted off.
“Send your troops through the forest. We have to find this threat before it strikes again,” the Twin nodded to the Insurgent Leader. “I.....” She stammered, wondering if she should tell him that she was not the real Overlord. After a bit of debate, she decided against it, then finished, “... I can’t believe we’re cooperating with each other.”
“Just like old times,” the Insurgent Leader said dully.
“... Huh,” the Twin cast a glance back at the Fortress, feeling her stomach churn, “... Yeah. Almost too much like old times for my taste.”
---
“Theurgist?” the Evocator peered into the main corridor of the Fortress. She folded her arms, huffing out a sigh, then began walking down the intimidating hall. The Evocator ignored the freaky statues of monsters that lined the corridor, following the large, stereotypical red carpet toward the ‘throne room’. Once upon a time, the Uberlord had sat upon the throne, now dusty and usually deserted. The Evocator caught a few of the more mouthy underlings here frequently, dreaming up owning the Fortress and everything that went with it. While she had not been there when the Uberlord had reigned, she knew that even the Overlord despised the throne. However, deep, dark charms prevented her from removing it, so it remained.
“Over here,” the Theurgist waved his hand, glancing up at the Evocator, “I found something kind of odd.” He pointed at the throne, plucking a hair from the seat.
“Wow, someone has a hairy bum,” the Evocator remarked, looking at it, “Looks like some underling’s. Probably Tinkerbell.”
“I didn’t think he had a hairy bum,” the Theurgist replied, “Looks bizarre to me... I haven’t caught anyone in here in some time.” He looked the hair over, then shrugged, “I guess it could just be Nard’s.”
“Could be,” the Evocator nodded, “Maybe we should take a better look at it?”
“With what?” the Theurgist asked.
“I don’t know... That Scribe guy seemed pretty smart. He might have some sort of computer or equipment that could help us,” the Evocator began, but stopped, feeling a sudden, cold wind sweep through the room. She grabbed onto the Theurgist’s arm, and turned to see someone standing in the shadows.
“Hey!” the Theurgist began, but his words caught in his throat. The looming figure took a step forward and the Evocator immediately drew back, clutching onto the Theurgist’s arm.
"Theurgist... Let's go."
“Useless underlings,” a voice sneered, seemingly from the darkness itself. In the dim light, the Evocator could see a hand be lifted, as in a greeting, but something seemed so wrong. She began to turn to run, but something that sounded like a command stopped her. The Theurgist collapsed immediately, unconscious, and she felt her vision ebbing away. Gasping for air, the Evocator’s knees buckled and she sank to the ground, alongside the Theurgist.
The shadowy figure glanced to the left and right before emerging from the shadows, his boots clanking heavily against the stone floor. A flick of the wrist and the Theurgist and the Evocator were in the air, suspended but still out cold. He allowed himself a cackle- one of those classic ones that sent fear even into the hearts of the brave... Or some evil bullcrap like that. A gander to the door, and the figure allowed a single, bitter word to be growled under his throat.
“Overlord.”
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