Minions didn't fight in formations, didn't strategize. They just fell upon their enemies and relied on brute strength, numbers and suicidal bravery to win. As Sol surveyed the chaotic battle laid out before her, she could tell that that wasn't going to be enough this time. Even to call it a battle was being generous, for it more closely resembled a slaughter.

In the caverns below the Dark Tower, seven heroes stood against a minion horde, and were winning. The walls shook and the ceiling trembled as the Overlord fought the eighth, the wizard, in the throne room above. All Sol needed to do was hold out long enough for him to kill that self-righteous prick and get down here to face the rest of these self-proclaimed heroes. The minions always fought better in his presence, and it wouldn't take long for these fools to be turned into smears on the walls.

The chain of the enormous Khan's morning star mace rattled as he decimated whole ranks of browns. Greens tried to flank him, but that puffed up Sir William with his hairdo that screamed "pompous dickhead" guarded his back.

This will have to be dealt with before they can thin the horde out any more, Sol thought.

There was a soft, barely audible thump from behind, and Sol whirled around and raised her bladed staff just in time to block the twin daggers of Jewel. Annoyance flashed across the hero's face before she jumped back out of range of attack.

She looks like she's barely out of the cradle, Sol thought as she lowered herself down into a fighting stance. Time to show her how the adults do things.

Jewel raised her daggers as if about to attack, but instead chose to flee. She ran to the edge of one of the many holes that turned the room into a twisting and treacherous maze and jumped across.

Sol snarled and ran after her. Jewel was fast and nimble and danced across the uneven stone floor like an acrobat, too fast for Sol's throwing knives. In a fair chase the hero would have always stayed just out of reach, but since when did servants of the Overlord ever play fair? Sol concentrated her magic to form a small barrier. With a grunt of effort and the crackling of blue sparks, she willed it forward to slam into Jewel's back, sending her sprawling.

Ignoring the sudden wave of fatigue, Sol darted forward to close the gap between her and the hero. As she raised her staff, the wicked, leaf-shaped blade edge gleaming with murderous intent, she suddenly yelped at a sudden pain in her calf. She looked down to see that Melvin, the hero small even for a Halfling, had plunged a knife into her leg. With a snarl she gave the diminutive hero a fierce kick that sent him sailing across the room.

By then Jewel was long gone and in her place stood the dwarf Goldo, hefting an axe and heavily protected with steel plate armor. Oberon the elf stood several feet behind him drawing back the string of his bow with a face devoid of emotion.

Shit.

The arrow was loosed and flew through the air with deadly accuracy even as Goldo struck, leaving no time for Sol to focus her magic. Sol deflected the dwarf's axe with the shaft of her weapon, but the arrow buried itself deep into her shoulder, easily slicing through her darkened leather armour.

It was then the reds struck, throwing balls of fire from across a gap in the floor. The sudden onslaught drew the heroes' attentions long enough for Sol to escape to the far side of the room where a pack of blues tended to fallen minions.

"Heal me," she ordered, but received only vacant stares from the assembled blues.

"Heal me, or you'll be explaining to the Overlord why you disobeyed his orders."

They hissed and bared triangular, shark like teeth at her, but did as they were told. It was always a fight for Sol to get the minions to do as she said. She was neither a minion, a mistress, nor a slave, yet followed and served the Overlord, and they just didn't know what to make of it. Unless they could destroy it, the minions hated change and anything new and thus she was viewed as an unwanted interloper and the minions would be happy to tear her apart if only their master hadn't expressly ordered against it.

The arrow was removed, the wounds sealed. They felt stiff and sore, but there wasn't anything that could be done about that. Sol turned and regarded the battle once more, and things were not going well. Goldo and Oberon, now joined by Jewel, had reached the reds and were obliterating them while, across the room, Khan and Sir William cut bloody swathes through the browns and greens. She wasn't sure where the Halfling Melvin had gone, but the last hero, a lightly armored human with short, black hair and determined green eyes cautiously advanced towards Sol and the blues with a long sword held at the ready.

Sol regarded him coolly. She was just so sick of heroes. With unhurried motions she pulled a hilt less throwing knife from its sheathe, the small blade coated with a pale green substance. Panic flashed across the hero's features as Sol threw the knife.

It hit him in the shoulder. He stumbled back a few steps, his muscles already locking in place as the paralysis poison took effect. He fell and tumbled down one of the holes into the black abyss below.

One down…

A fierce tremor rocked the tower, causing Sol to stumble. A pulse of magic came from the throne room above, and utter chaos erupted as the minions all begin to yell and scream, only to scatter and flee in different directions, all courage and purpose deserting them.

It was obvious to Sol what had happened. Impossibly, the wizard had triumphed, the Overlord was gone, and she was royally screwed.

Sol ran from the room. Her only hope was to escape the tower before the heroes thought to chase after her.