Overlord™: Raising Hell Command minions through five hells

Each kingdom you ruled above ground now has an abyss below it: Mellow Hills, Evernight, Heaven's Peak, the Golden Halls and the Ruborian Desert. A portal opens once a kingdom is conquered and its ruler banished, and down you go. The fallen heroes you beat are trapped there, punished for their sins in ways that fit them: Melvin the glutton gorges himself until he explodes, the greedy Goldie ends up a golden statue smashed by his own maddened servants, and the elf tragedy gets mocked in Oberon's theatrical production. Undead denizens attack and threaten your reign above, so you descend, crush them, and drag your wayward peasants back home.

The minions are the heart of the game. Browns charge straight in, reds throw fire from a distance, greens stab from behind while invisible, and blues swim where every other minion would drown and drag fallen ones back to life. You point, they swarm, and they will smash, loot and steal anything in reach, squealing with delight when they find a better helmet and put it on. You gather life essence to grow your horde, summon them from hives, and send them through traps and puzzles that need the right type in the right place. Losing a battle-hardened minion stings, even if the game insists dying for you is an honour.

The game asks a simple question and lets you answer it with every decision: how corruptible are you? You can be a regular tyrant or a wonderfully despotic one, terrorising peasants, pillaging villages and ruling by fear, or settle for a slightly gentler brand of evil. Villagers grovel or greet you accordingly. The writing leans into it, skewering fantasy clichés with dim-witted heroes, demonic Halflings, rabid unicorns and a world too bright and saccharine for its own good. The dark humour is the point: absolute power corrupts absolutely, and the process comes with the pattering of a hundred tiny feet.