04-01-2016, 11:19 AM
Harry woke from his sleep within the Ashen Steppes, stretching within his tent and rolling his shoulders back. His campaign against Darkseid had come to an abrupt end, and he hadn't managed to find any other Primes since that incident with the dragon. The Steppes were huge, and much of them was untracked land, home only to various lizards and occasional villages from the Koopa Kingdom. Harry had skirted the strange anthropomorphic turtles and mushrooms that composed these settlements, rather uncomfortable with them as a whole after the Apokalips Troopas.
Just recently, one of the main features of the 'verse, the large mountain in the center, had become a lot more active. At first, Harry had been wary of it, but as the disturbance continued, he became much more concerned. Something about the way things were stirring had made him curious, and that curiosity had led him to journey into the astral, several nights prior.
The first thing that he'd found was that this universe's Astral Plane was a poor comparison to the Nevernever. It didn't have many intersections with the Material, and opening a Way into it seemed to take five minutes, regardless of the circumstances. By far, the most glaring difference was the intersection it had with dreams. Harry had learned a little of the drake Volvagia's stirring from the dreams of several rock-people, Gorons, as well as Koopas whose dreams he had touched. The drake's advent made Harry sweat, but it also had a good bit of irony to it. He'd fought one dragon before, in the Omniverse. Two, in fact.
Shaking himself from his reminiscences, Harry strode from his tent and spent some time breaking his campsite down into Omnilium before summoning a copy of the strange yellow bird that Blues had created in pursuit of the Rathalos. His couldn't fly, but the bird's long legs were a handy attribute on the rough paths of the Ashen Steppes. With a flick of the reins and a yell of "On, Salsa!", Harry started the last leg of his journey towards Death Mountain.
The ride across the ash-covered ground was uneventful, and, within an hour and a half, a wizard in a duster with a grey cloak thrown over it, clutching a staff carved with runes in one hand and the reins to a bright yellow Chocobo in the other, rode up the slopes of Death Mountain itself. Many facilities were being constructed by a familiar shadow that Harry spotted on his approach to the Goron village, the telepathic entity from the assault on the Apokalips Troopas that made Harry shiver in distaste, and, putting off that reunion for the moment, Harry instead dismounted and walked into the Goron village.
With a simple inquiry, Harry quickly learned the purpose of all the activity in the rock-people's village. Soon, the shadow, which they called "Brother Nealaphh", would lead an assault on the dragon Volvagia, hoping to remove its looming threat from the Omniverse, and, though they were not privy to the particulars of the plan, they were aware that it involved a large number of Primes, many of which had yet to arrive. In fact, the only one they were aware of besides Nealaphh, currently, was the man who had ridden into town with Nealaphh. Not much was known about the man, but those who had spotted him were eager to give a physical description, and literally anyone was preferable to having that voice echo in his head any more than it needed to. Perhaps the rules were different here, but Harry was still highly uncomfortable with telepathy in any application. Messing with the minds of others could quickly grow addictive.
Stabling Salsa the Second, Harry shouldered his rune-carved staff and set out for the encampment, hoping to find out more about the plan of attack on the dragon Volvagia. He could shoulder his distaste for Nealaphh for the moment, seeing as the dragon's threat took precedence. Today presented a rare opportunity to give the Mantle of Winter the kind of violence it sought while still being able to defend others. Sooner or later he would have to master his more violent impulses, but for now, he would settle for sating the cold hunger of Winter in a way that didn't make his conscience pain him.
Just recently, one of the main features of the 'verse, the large mountain in the center, had become a lot more active. At first, Harry had been wary of it, but as the disturbance continued, he became much more concerned. Something about the way things were stirring had made him curious, and that curiosity had led him to journey into the astral, several nights prior.
The first thing that he'd found was that this universe's Astral Plane was a poor comparison to the Nevernever. It didn't have many intersections with the Material, and opening a Way into it seemed to take five minutes, regardless of the circumstances. By far, the most glaring difference was the intersection it had with dreams. Harry had learned a little of the drake Volvagia's stirring from the dreams of several rock-people, Gorons, as well as Koopas whose dreams he had touched. The drake's advent made Harry sweat, but it also had a good bit of irony to it. He'd fought one dragon before, in the Omniverse. Two, in fact.
Shaking himself from his reminiscences, Harry strode from his tent and spent some time breaking his campsite down into Omnilium before summoning a copy of the strange yellow bird that Blues had created in pursuit of the Rathalos. His couldn't fly, but the bird's long legs were a handy attribute on the rough paths of the Ashen Steppes. With a flick of the reins and a yell of "On, Salsa!", Harry started the last leg of his journey towards Death Mountain.
The ride across the ash-covered ground was uneventful, and, within an hour and a half, a wizard in a duster with a grey cloak thrown over it, clutching a staff carved with runes in one hand and the reins to a bright yellow Chocobo in the other, rode up the slopes of Death Mountain itself. Many facilities were being constructed by a familiar shadow that Harry spotted on his approach to the Goron village, the telepathic entity from the assault on the Apokalips Troopas that made Harry shiver in distaste, and, putting off that reunion for the moment, Harry instead dismounted and walked into the Goron village.
With a simple inquiry, Harry quickly learned the purpose of all the activity in the rock-people's village. Soon, the shadow, which they called "Brother Nealaphh", would lead an assault on the dragon Volvagia, hoping to remove its looming threat from the Omniverse, and, though they were not privy to the particulars of the plan, they were aware that it involved a large number of Primes, many of which had yet to arrive. In fact, the only one they were aware of besides Nealaphh, currently, was the man who had ridden into town with Nealaphh. Not much was known about the man, but those who had spotted him were eager to give a physical description, and literally anyone was preferable to having that voice echo in his head any more than it needed to. Perhaps the rules were different here, but Harry was still highly uncomfortable with telepathy in any application. Messing with the minds of others could quickly grow addictive.
Stabling Salsa the Second, Harry shouldered his rune-carved staff and set out for the encampment, hoping to find out more about the plan of attack on the dragon Volvagia. He could shoulder his distaste for Nealaphh for the moment, seeing as the dragon's threat took precedence. Today presented a rare opportunity to give the Mantle of Winter the kind of violence it sought while still being able to defend others. Sooner or later he would have to master his more violent impulses, but for now, he would settle for sating the cold hunger of Winter in a way that didn't make his conscience pain him.
![[Image: u17lb3R.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/u17lb3R.gif)