Overlord Shortstories: Fond Memories of Grimsgor

>Grimsgor, Dread Knight of the Overlord and loyal holder of the Barony of Gorik
The crowd cheers from all around the large, bone Colosseum, made just for this event. The colossal suit of black armor stands at the center holding a head in his hand as the headless body spurts crimson proof of its tearing on the black boot of Grimsgor.
From a large box in the crowd an equally large figure dressed in ornate robes and fine jewels steps forward as his very stomps shake the stands.
“Death Knight Grimsgor...Your strength and power are on display this very night, does any wish to stand against him before he is declared the victor?”
The large man’s voice booms and cracks like thunder as if spoken from the heavens. Though to noone’s surprise, the crowd is still. Darin the Beheader, one of the most powerful mercenaries in the world had his head ripped from his own body by this champion of the Overlord.
“As expected, then I suppose that will mean we have a victor.”
The deep and booming voice chuckles before pointing down at the metal creature. The suit of armor falls to his knee and drops the head, rolling back to its rightful owner.
“Dread Knight Grimsgor. You are the champion of this arena, as promised...”
The large man’s hand grows green before a young woman is brought into his grasp by her arm.
“Gorik and her daughter is yours. Do you wish to speak to your Overlord before we commence with the post-tourni entertainment?”
Liches already slowly float from the sky levitating two large black clothed monstrosities, flesh covered in rivets and chains as their large, muscled arms hold gargantuan and dull axes, their assumed abominable faces covered by execution hoods. Floating with them is a beaten and dirty middle aged man, a green smoke floats around him as green chains connect the liches’ hands with his body.
The black steel dread knight bows his head deeply and sets his multiballed flail on the ground in front of him, each ball being the size of a human’s head and covered in rusted spikes that drip necromatic rot.
“I am honored to have the ability to fight for you dark one. I hope that I may improve this city or be cast into the fires of the pit. I am blessed if I have entertained you this night, may it be the first smile of many, your most vile one.”
A chuckle once again fills the city of Gorik.
“A loyal servant, the undying lord knew who best to lead this vile city into prestige and prosperity. Come, collect your reward. I want all to bow before the new Baron.”
This city, the only blemish in the Overlord’s empire, has finally come under the watchful eye of one of his dread knights.
The stands immediately lower as anyone who is not highborn bows to Grimsgor. He stands tall and leaves the arena as the fat man is dropped onto the ground, the chains vanishing into green smoke. As much as the man may wish to flee he’s too weak to do anything.
The young maiden tries to flee from the Overlord’s grasp and yell for her father, getting a sneer from the behemoth.
“Gerald Velupton, you are a traitor to the state. Not only that, you are a failure as an aristocrat and a man. Not to mention a father.”
The Overlord’s hand caresses the young woman’s flesh indecently as he sneers.
“Two of those are forgivable offenses. Though one cannot be forgiven, I sentence you to execution.”
“No!”
The long blonde beauty weeps as she tries to pull away from the Overlord. The evil ruler rolls his eyes as just a bit of black and green falls from his nostrils into the girl’s causing her body to stiffen as her bones are forced into a submissive kneeling and watching position. One motion of the colossus’s hand and the two abominations standing at fourteen feet high and as wide as a wyvern stomp towards the baron. The pathetic creature tries to flounder to no avail as the old baron shakily looks up at the tyrant and his silent daughter.
A primal roar is hear before the two creatures slam their axes one at a time, the first axe slamming down into the traitor baron’s left leg, leaving a crater of mush and blood in the ground where the axe struck. Then the other went onto the next leg. The man had only enough energy to scream as he was slowly dismembered and sliced from the legs all the way to the head, the liches keeping him alive through the agony.
Once nothing is left but paste the large executioners bow gratefully to their master before they leave the Colosseum, the liches doing the same.
It was at the end when Grimsgor stomped into the royal box, women, holy men, fine crafts and music were there as small gremlins fought and scampered about.
The overlord turned to see the champion, who immediately knelt before his master.
“Grimsgor, you’ve served me well over the years. I am excited to see how you perform as an administrator.”
The deep voice reverberates through the box as vibrations can be felt through the coliseum from his powerful voice.
“I will do everything I can to not disappoint you.”
“I’m sure of it. I will be patient with you, I’m aware this is a far cry from the battlefield and your beasts.”
“You honor me my lord. Too kind to a humble servant.”
“I’m aware, my benevolence has no end.”
The large man chuckles before pulling the woman up from her sitting position.
“This thing is also yours. Do with it what you wish.”
The woman is slowly levitated to Grimsgor, where she falls into a heap in front of him, shaking, as her eyes produce a terrified expression and tears fall onto the bone ground.
The yawning colossus stretches in his fine garb before popping his neck.
“I should most likely return to the citadel, many peasants to appease.”
“My lord.”
The monster looks down at the kneeling dread knight.
“May I ask what the traitor had done?”
The Overlord growled.
“Why would you worry about maggot bait? The treasonous bastard is enjoying eternity in Trokta’s hell.”
“Forgive me sir.”
“There’s nothing to forgive...”
The overlord sighs.
“If you mucst hear of such tedium...He had let a paladin leave through my city with the cost of coin. The paladin was supposed to be used in a training demonstration at the college of Hkahkriz though he escaped. Luckily we caught him, this time severing his legs.”
“May his spirit never find peace in the bonegrounds.”
The Overlord says his goodbyes to the new Baron as the gremlins quickly follow behind.

*Bark!* *Pant**Pant**Pant*
The large hound rests its skull in the dread knight’s black steel gauntlet as it receives pettings from its master.
“Baron Grimsgor. This is your staff.”
A lanky man in fine garb presents the few men dressed equally as well in the court room.
“Hmm...”
The dread knight looks over the helpers. A stout but short human wearing a parade uniform bows his head.
“I am Captain Vholnier. I have been in charge over the guard and barracks.”
“Then you should be the first to be executed.”
A growl comes from the dreadknight, as well as the skeletal beast. The captain bows his head.
“You are correct, I have failed my position and brought dishonor to his most glorious.”
“A fine eulogy.”
The dreadknight continues staring into the captain with the red orbs of light that are his eyes.
“Though if I may beg your ear Baron Grimsgor...”
The captain continues speaking with his head bowed.
“In the entire city I only had twelve guardsmen, our presence was as pathetic as the baron who cursed us with no resources or payroll, unlike his personal guard. My men were volunteers working without pay, fine young lads and loyalists to the Overlord. Please spare them the noose.”
Grimsgor waves his hand.
“Very well...And I suppose with this information you expect it to be an excuse for your poor results?”
“I only plead the lives of my men.”
“...You’re spared captain, one more chance to turn this city around.”
“Your kindness is a breath of clean air in this rotten hive.”
The fat man in glasses bows before taking a deep breath, speaking with a baritone voice.
“Ah, Dread Knight Grimsgor. Your reputation proceeds you, I’ve heard of your feats and the honor received in battle.”
Grimsgor holds his hand up.
“That honor goes to the one who breathed life into me.”
“Of course. I am Hitah Kurn, I look forward to working for you as steward.”
Grimsgor lets out a disgusted sound.
“A fat steward in a town of starved. Not a good start, I will keep an eye on you and your pockets.”
“Of course lord, forgive my girth.”
Finally his sight rests on the man who brought the others.
“I am Odheer, a humble hand of yours Baron Grimsgor. I was assigned by the Overlord after the last one was eaten by your powerful hounds. I hope to live up to your expectation great one.”
“You hope to live...Very well.”
The dread knight stands up before stomping towards the large pane of glass. From the courthouse the scum filled city goes about its daily life. Prostitution, the lazy, even a mugging can be seen.
“How this blight on the Overlord’s perfect land hasn’t been flattened and scorched is beyond me.”
“Very true Baron Grimsgor. Though I’m sure you can turn this around and make it profitable for his darkness.”
The dread knight shakes his head.
“I’m not so sure...I only know war...”
Grimsgor stomps away towards his subordinates.
“Starting from now on the bell will ring at evening, anyone left outside an hour after shall be slaughtered.”
“Of course.”
“Law will be restored, I promise this. I want a hundred able bodied men conscripted into a military force.”
The steward clears his throat.
“Ah...Well forgive me lord, but you see...We don’t have the finances for that.”
“How long can we sustain those hundred men?”
Grimsgor asks.
“If we cut out luxuries and hope many of the servants will work on room and food, two months.”
“Then it’s fine. We’re relatively close to the border aren’t we?”
“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”
Grimsgor walks to the captain, ignoring the fat steward.
“Vholnier, you shall be leading a group of men past the border to raid trade caravans that aren’t coming into the Overlord’s land.”
Odheer quickly speaks up behind you.
“Forgive my mispeaking my lord, that seems like it could have diplomatic repercussions. We wouldn’t want to cause problems for the Overlord.”
“Disguise them as bandits. I have been given permission already.”
“Of course lord.”
Grimsgor nods.
“Fat mortal, I expect you to figure out a way for us to stay afloat. Work with trade and artisans like your life depended on it...It does.”
The steward bows, then the rest of them do as he leaves the court into his manor.

An hour after the bell and Grimsgor stands on the balcony. He chuckles as the sounds of screams and growls fill the night. White flashes fly through the street, some carrying corpses in their mouths as they search for more prey.
“It appears they’re used to a baron who makes empty promises. Pitiful.”
As the suit of steel stomps back into the master bedroom his sight catches the young blonde laying on the bed, blankly staring at the ceiling. He stares for a moment before stomping towards her.
“Cella.”
The echoed voice from his helmet is ignored by the blonde beaut. The dread knight nods.
“Very well.”
His armor clanks and squeaks as he leaves her.

“As you can see, these men are willing to serve in the guard.”
Captain Vholnier presents the underequipped men as the giant leers over them.
“The fact that you are able to stand before me today shows you are indeed capable of following orders.”
Grimsgor nods at the survivors of the new edict launched a week ago.
“You are the Overlord’s boots. This disgusting city is ridden with cockroaches, I expect you all to crunch them. Every crime will result in execution on the spot. Even if this city falls to the hundred of you and us, that is fine.”
A collective gulp is heard as Grimsgor continues to inspire with fear and zeal.

“Hasn’t been eating hmm?”
Grimsgor looks down at the small maid as she shakes at his size.
“Yes, I’m afraid Lady Grimsgor hasn’t touched any of the meals we’ve prepared for her.”
He nods before stomping away from the maid.
The door opens to show the same Cella who hasn’t moved an inch. Still she stares at the ceiling as if already dead.
“Perhaps I should call a necromancer.”
Grimsgor grunts before sitting on the foot of the bed. The well constructed bed growls against the heavy weight.
“Cella. You haven’t been eating? Is it not to your taste?”
Grimsgor asks the girl.
“...”
“I understand...You’re unhappy with me as a husband. I’m sure you were looking for someone more...mortal.”
The dreadknight takes off his helmet, a skull with glowing red orbs in its eye sockets looks over at the young baroness before staring out the balcony window.
“I did not fight in the tournament for you or the barony. In fact, I much rather be back on the field.”
“...Why did you fight...?”
A quiet and dry whisper comes from the bed.
“I was asked to. So I followed orders and fought.”
“...Why did you take the prize?”
“I would never dishonor his greatness by not accepting a gift. I am overwhelmed by his graciousness and charity.”
“...”
The room is silent for a time.
“...What did my father do?”
Grimsgor looks over to the girl. She hasn’t moved but at least she’s finally talking.
“Does it matter? He was a traitor, surely you aren’t feeling sorry for him?”
“...”
“He had took money from a paladin for safe passage.”
You hear quiet weeping from the girl as she hears that.
“Yes...I too would be grieved if my teachers would have failed the Overlord and the empire.”
Grimsgor stands from the bed and walks to the side of the bed where he grabs the plate and spears the nutrients with a fork.
“You must eat Cella, you are not like me.”
The young woman shakes her head at the giant offering her food.
“What does it matter? Why do you want me to live?”
“Why?...You are my wife of course. As terrible as that may be to you, it is an obligation to the undying lord that I protect you.”
The woman looks at the fork before slowly taking a bite.
“Will you eat?”
The dreadknight asks, and she slowly nods. The metal man sets the plate on her stomach.
“You’re much too young to fill a coffin my dear.”
Grimsgor says before leaving the room.

The sounds of keys played on the piano fill the manor as the beautiful piece “Requiem of Molcob’s transcendence” is played. A young woman, freshly dressed in a fine gown finds herself entering a large study as sunlight bleeds in through the window. Expecting to find a pianist playing for the manor’s entertainment she is surprised to see the large metal man sitting on a bench, playing an oversized piano.
She watches in surprise, but listens in awe. The piece is played perfectly and with soul as the metal gauntlets deftly press on the keys, until it is finished.
“You play piano?”
The dread knight flinches at the sound of a woman’s voice.
“Oh. Good afternoon Cella. It’s good to see you out of that bedroom. You look beautiful.”
“...Thank you...”
She says quietly.
The large man stands from the bench and stomps towards the girl.
“And yes. I spent much time practicing at the cathedral down in Aut-gro. I was stationed as garrison during the spring defensive. Such a boring “war”.”
The sounds of bone clicking across marble gets Cella’s attention and she turns her head. A yelp is heard as she jumps away from the oversized hound, its heart beats inside of a bone cage as it stares at the young baroness.
“Worry not young one.”
Grimsgor opens his palm and the dog quickly walks up and rubs its head in its master’s hand.
“Do you enjoy the piano Cella?”
The dreadknight asks.
“Oh, um...Yes. Very much.”
“Would you like to learn?”
The black steeled skeleton points to the piano.
“Huh?...I-I suppose.”
She says unsure of herself, slightly terrified of the dog as well as the giant. The woman slowly makes her way to the large piano and is picked up by the cold gauntlets to help her sit on the bench.
“T-Thank you.”
She sighs in relief that she isn’t in danger. Grimsgor explains the keys and how she should set her fingers, however with the size it would be difficult to be able to assume a proper rest position.
Hours go by as the sounds of attempted melodies fill the manor. Though finally one of the basic melodies are played to completion.
“I did it!”
The blonde woman smiles, earning her a hearty laugh that echoes inside of steel.
“Very well done Cella. Just remember-”
“My lord.”
Grimsgor turns to see his hand bow his head.
“Speak Odheer.”
“Work on the walls have been going smoothly, lord necromancer Tazmothul’s forces have stopped any citizens from trying to escape the city.”
“Excellent.”
“Though your attention is needed in the court...”
“Very well.”
The suit of steel clunks as Grimsgor stomps out of the study.
“Lord Grimsgor!”
The giant stops at the door and looks back.
“Thank you.”
The blonde haired beauty smiles brightly at the dread knight.
“Of course. And you need not call me lord. Forgive me for diverting my attention from you.”
The dread knight barely bows his head before leaving.

“Well crime is once again no more in the Overlord’s reign.”
Captain Vholnier sighs in content.
“Our guard has prospered greatly under your training my lord. I cannot thank you enough.”
“I expect you to keep them unblemished with corruption Vholnier. You have my permission to make an example of anyone who may seem disloyal to the great one.”
“Of course my lord. And about our raids-”
“The steward has affirmed me that we’re no longer in the negative, so we can cease that.”
“Right away my lord.”
Grimsgor stomps through the manor after the captain had excused himself. Though something catches his eye. The blonde beauty leans against a doorway as she watches death hounds fight and play with eachother in the garden. She quickly turns as she hears the heavy stomps of her husband from down the hall.
“Hello Grimsgor.”
“Cella.”
He nods to her as he stares at his hounds.
“You’re still terrified of them.”
Cella blushes in embarassment and stares silently.
“Hrulg!”
A shout calls an obedient hound towards the giant steel man and the young woman. She tries to back out from the doorway but is held in place by a large gauntlet.
Unlike some of the other deathhounds, Hrulg still has flesh, though half of its face is gone and some of his ribs can be seen, the dog still behaves much like a normal dog, panting with its tongue hanging out and its ears flicking, only much, much larger. The dog stands at five feet high on four legs, as it stares into the eyes of the young baroness.
“Sit.”
On command from its master the dog sits. A metal pat on the young woman’s shoulder tells her to try it for herself.
“R-Roll over.”
The dog rolls onto its back and flops its tongue out, the complete flip of the death hound’s intimidating nature getting a laugh from Cella. Grimsgor kneels onto one knee before petting the death hound’s stomach, the nub on its butt shakes from side to side happily.
“Go on.”
Cella slowly begins to pet the dog’s flesh. The skin is leathery and old, it isn’t comforting or warm like a real dog. Though her having the ability to touch it without worry is comforting. After they both pet the death hound for a while Grimsgor shoves Hrulg to go play with the others.
Cella looks up at the tall metal man as he stares at the hounds.
“You really love those creatures huh?”
Grimsgor looks down.
“Yes...What little raising I can do I used to make my pack.”
She giggles before shaking her head.
“You’re not what I imagined from a dread knight, Grimsgor.”
The baron blanks out to his dogs nipping at eachother’s rib cages.

“Ah L-Lord Grimsgor! L-Lady Grimsgor! You honor us!”
Grimsgor grunts at the peasants who bow or cower at the couple. The city has been entirely remodeled. After the city had lost half of its population many of the old dilapidated houses were torn down and replaced with forge works. Ores come in through the gates as laborers unload them, then they transport them to forges worked by citizens to produce arms and armors. The areas not dedicated by this are looked over by Captain Vholnier. The city guard, which by most countries would be considered a military force, trains daily and has been bolstered with beast masters. Even young mortals with the aptitude for it have grown to learn how to control necromatic beasts, though rare.
The city is covered in black steel as crimson banners flap in the heated wind, the sky always echoes with the clanging of blades on blades or hammers upon anvils. After a few years the once slum filled city has become a military district with a self sufficient military, all in service to the Overlord.
“It’s hard to believe how different my home has changed in such a short time.”
The blonde baroness says as her hand grips onto the large gauntlet of her husband. Love has flourished for the couple. The dread knight who once looked after this woman due to a sense of honor from the Overlord’s gift as well as his duty finds himself enjoying his time with her. The woman who once thought of the Dread Knight as a cruel and mindless beast, has a personality of his own she has grown to love.
After enjoying the walk on the town they head home, the Lady deciding to turn in as the Dread Knight stares out at the study.
“Man Lady Grimsgor is a beauty isn’t she?”
From the hall two guards are heard speaking, unaware that the baron is sitting in his study.
“I wouldn’t mind having a go at her, with those tits and that ass? Hell she looks more erotic than a whore in that dress of hers.”
A growl comes from beside Grimsgor as he pets the beast’s head.
“Yeah, shame it’s wasted on the Baron.”
“Man she’s probably still a virgin. I bet she’s just waiting for someone to ask and she’ll hop right on him.”
The guards laugh and continue to speak vulgar things. Eventually the Baron hears enough and lets go of the hound’s neck. Screams and shouts echo through the halls as Grimsgor stares out the window.
“...”

“Grimsgor. Have you come to bed?”
The lady smiles at the large dread knight as he walks into the master bedroom.
“I suppose...For what purpose though...”
“What was that?”
She asks, not hearing Grimsgor’s muttering. The dreadknight stares at Cella.
“Is there something wrong?”
Slowly he removes his helmet, the skull looking at his wife before continuing to remove the rest of his armor. When a dread knight is created, the armor it is created with becomes bound to them. Until the armor is completely destroyed a dread knight cannot be destroyed, almost like a lich’s phylactery. The armor, even if holes are punched into it, or dented, or even partly melted, will magically regenerate over time. For a dreadknight to leave his armor is excruciating, as if one’s own flesh has been torn off. The bones of Grimsgor shake as his mind is wracked with necromatic pain, the only kind of pain undead can feel aside from holy.
“I’ve...I’ve never seen you without your armor.”
Cella says not sure what he’s doing.
The large skeleton with thickened bones stands in the room silently.
“Cella...Do you see anything wrong?”
She stares at him and shakes his head.
“What do you mean? Are you missing a bone?”
“...Yes...”
Grimsgor’s hands clench.
“In a way...”
“In a way?”
Grimsgor slowly puts his armor back on.
“Cella...You’ve said it to me a few times...That...You love me.”
The young blonde woman blushes a bit.
“How blunt...Yes. You’re my husband, it isn’t strange to love your husband is it?”
Grimsgor’s mind is torn apart as he thinks.
“Though as husband and wife I am not...fulfilling my role.”
“Fulfilling your role? What are you-...Oh...”
Her face grows red as she realizes what he’s talking about. Grimsgore shakes his head.
“I...I cannot fulfill that role.”
“I see...”
Silence fills the room. If Grimsgor had a heart it would tear as he utters words he wished to avoid
“If...If you wish-”
“Don’t finish that.”
Grimsgor looks towards the woman on the bed.
“How would that make you feel?”
Grimsgor shakes his head.
“It...”
“Who would survive that fallout?”
“...”
“I don’t need it Grimsgor. All I need is you.”
His armor clanks as he slowly walks towards the bed.
“Don’t you think it’s foolish to squander your mortality?”
“Squander? I hear you and the other undead speak about how worthless and idiotic mortality is.”
“Well yes...And it’s true...But to you mortals, it’s important.”
The baroness stands from the bed and hugs around the cold steel.
“I love you Grimsgor.”
“...If I had a heart Cella...I would rip it out and give it to you.”

The sounds of rain pounds against Grimsgor’s armor as he stares at the freshly dug grave. The city of Gorik mourns for the loss of their lady as the giant stares silently at the dirt. Eighty years, so short. Grimsgor is considered extremely young by most lich’s standards, still an infant. Then that would make her an amoeba.
“She rests peacefully in the bonegrounds my lord.”
Captain Vholnier, the young son of the last captain mourns with the giant. The sky cries for a son who cannot weep, as rain seeps into the armor and down the dread knight’s body.
“Wait for me my love. Even if it’s for another millennia, I will return to you.”
The muttering of Vholnier brings forth howls of anguish from the dogs as they whimper and cry.