Note: This liveblog was started in the forum on June 8, 2010.
Greetings, mortals. The slaves at Codemasters and Triumph Studios were...fortunate enough to create a...what is it you people call it..."video game" detailing my rise to power. They call this tale Overlord: Raising Hell. I am told a woman who goes by the name of Rhianna Pratchett is the one mainly responsible for writing my epic story. I should remember not to kill her the next time I decide to plunder and pillage.
Every man's tale must begin somewhere. It just so happened that mine began while I was sleeping. I am awakened from my slumber by a small pack of goblins. Their names are not important, for they are likely to die in droves anyway. The oldest one calls himself Gnarl. I did not ask for his name, but he gave it to me anyway...and now he expects me to follow him.
We arrive in a chamber, which includes a glowing pit with a number hovering above it. Gnarl says that I can summon minions from it. I will need as much help as I can to take over this miserable kingdom. I hold my hand out, and three brown goblins leap out and come to me. They are all carrying clubs made of wood, but I am not sure they are aware that they can use them. We shall put them to the test to see if they are worthy, and if not, I can always spawn replacements.
Gnarl: "I can hear the land quaking with fear already."
This foolish goblin that stands before me is wearing a jester's cap. He appears to not have any sense of self-respect or self-loathing. A few swats with my axe shall put him in his place.
Gnarl: "Evil is not something you just forget."
The jester is quite elusive, for a fool. Perhaps I should keep an eye on him so that my mighty axe does not lose sight of him as his blood spills.
Jester: "Come on, princess! You move like a dead badger! Shame you don't smell as good..."
The coward has crossed over a marble pillar and removed himself from reach of my righteously wicked smitings. I hold my hand out again and send the goblins to silence this fool. Their strokes are a little wild, but the jester seems to be genuinely scared of them. Gnarl wants me to call them back, but then he orders me to use a technique called "sweeping", to help my minions attack targets from long distances. Which one is it, you old fool? Keep them here or send them out? Choose one and stick with it!
The jester is running scared, but refuses to stow his tongue. If only I were a few meters closer, I would rip it out of his scrawny little body. Another charge from my goblins later, and the jester admits defeat. But enough of this nonsense. It is time for me to return to my throne. Having fallen asleep for so many years has made me forget what it is like to sit down.