06-05-2016, 12:32 AM
Skeletor sat atop his throne, his hooded skull largely invisible in the perpetual gloom of Snake Mountain. His nails rapped consistently against the arm of his throne, as he plotted. He-man continued to foil every plan he had to gain access to Grayskull, and managed through sheer luck to power his way through every trap Skeletor could dream up. it was an outrage, an affront to the power he possessed and the schemes he had set into motion. The brainless dolt had mocked him, laughed at him. It was time to put an end to the foolishness, He-man would not live long. Skeletor was determined.
Skeletor glared down at his minions, loitering uselessly in the alcoves and corners of his throne room. Did they have nothing better to do? With an aura of menace, Skeletor stood up. raising one arm he pointed his Havoc staff outwards to gather his minions’ infernally short attention-spans, Panthor gave a growl from behind him, ensuring even fools like Whiplash and Clawful were paying attention.
“Listen up, you mold-headed meat bags! While you were all sitting around being pointless mongrels, I have finally come up with a plan that is assured to…” Then Skeletor’s world vanished, and he was left in darkness.
“…beat He-man…” Skeletor’s non-existent eyes narrowed as the white being appeared in front of him. The being began to drone on, reminding Skeletor of one of Eternia’s Elders. He had nearly taken their power innumerable times... perhaps he could do the same to this one? Skeletor considered for a moment, fleshless face impassive. There was no He-man present to prevent him this time.
“I don’t care, you eyeless ingrate!” he shouted over the being’s talk, and pointed a finger at the white figure, preparing to unleash a magical blast. Nothing happened, and the figure completely ignored the action almost like it was expecting that… Skeletor thought through his permanent grimace. The Warlord waited impatiently as the figure finished his pronunciation, some kind of vague threat, then opened his mouth again, preparing to get some answers. He would know who had dared to defy his magic without even showing he had done so. But before he could speak the being vanished again, and Skeletor found himself in only blackness once again.
“Enough of these games! I will not be treated like some trivial jester, to be … aah!” Skeletor’s rant was interrupted as he found himself deposited unceremoniously into a large fountain. He emerged soaking wet, and livid with rage. “Insufferable! I will not be treated in this manner!” he shouted up at the blank white sky, shaking both fists in barely contained fury. There was no response, and after a moment, Skeletor glanced around at his surroundings trying to make some sense of the strangeness around him. “Someone is lacking in originality.” He announced to no one in particular.
Skeletor’s eye sockets narrowed, he was missing his Havoc staff. With a lazy gesture he attempted to call it into being, the mystic energy seemed strange, almost diluted, like there was something new altering his abilities to use magic. He could picture the staff appearing in his mind, and he was sure he was preforming the right spell to create it, but instead of the ram-skull staff he usually gained, he found only a strange ball of iridescent rainbow light. He could sense the staff, or rather the idea, the conception of the staff. it was somewhere inside of this sphere. He would get it back.
Yeller Ground leaned up against the edge of the Fountain of Infinity. He was well concealed by the Elven cloak he had been given by his commander, but even so, he never felt comfortable when he was on Fountainwatch. There was something about the possibility of entirely new beings appearing, with the no concept of the world in which they lived. There was no telling what sort of strange powers the new prime could possess, and in their disoriented state, even the noblest of heroes could behave… dangerously.
Nevertheless, with the steady rise in Imperial forces patrolling the fountain itself, sending military soldiers to scout for new primes was becoming no longer an option. His commander, Sir Brigmund, would never admit the truth, but to Yeller, the change in tactics could only mean one thing: The Empire was winning the battle for the Nexus.
The young boy shuddered slightly, and pulled his elven cloak tighter around himself. If the Empire really was gaining the upper hand in the Nexus, it would mean they would be able to establish a foot hold in virtually any of the verses, and the Kingdom might not even be aware of their plans, let alone able to actively combat them. That was why he had signed up with the garrison at such a young age after all, to fight back against the empire and protect the ones he cared about. His job was important, after all, it took only a handful of primes to utterly flip the tables of a battle. Every prime that joined the Kingdom was one less prime that might join the Empire. There was no price too high to prevent that from happening.
The boy perked up from his slouch as he heard something. Someone was talking in a rather loud voice, and from the snippets of confusion Yeller could hear it was most likely a new prime. He began to edge his way around the side of the fountain, doing his utmost to remain hidden. His job was clear: find info on the prime, then figure out where they are headed so that actual diplomats can be sent to recruit them.
Yeller peered around the edge of the fountain, getting his first glimpse of the prime. Blue skinned and hooded, the seemed to be focusing intently on something. Peering closer he saw the unmistakable hue of summoning. Based on the muttering the prime it seemed that things were not going as they expected. This one was definitely fountain fresh.
Yeller snuck back around the edge a little before pulling out one of the scrolls he had been given at the start of his mission. He unrolled it and did his best to read the incantation in his head first since mispronouncing to badly could lead to what his squad mate had dubbed “seriously bad consequences”. Once he was sure he had the words correct, he spoke them aloud. There was a faint glow, though it made next to no impact on the whiteness around it. Yeller felt strangely distant, and the voice of the squad’s wizard echoed into his mind.
“this is Fountainwatch, right? Do you have something to report?” came the willowy voice, the spell giving it a strangely echoing tone that put Yeller ill at ease.
“The fountain is acting up again. There’s a prime here already, and it seems like there could be more coming.” Yeller looked up as the prime gave a shout of triumph, brandishing a horn headed skull atop a large staff. Yeller’s eyes widened as he saw the skull that lurked underneath the prime’s hood.
“Nothing can withstand the might of Skeletor! Nhe, hee hee he he he!”
Yeller gulped. “Now would be a good time for you to send some people to the fountain…”
Skeletor glared down at his minions, loitering uselessly in the alcoves and corners of his throne room. Did they have nothing better to do? With an aura of menace, Skeletor stood up. raising one arm he pointed his Havoc staff outwards to gather his minions’ infernally short attention-spans, Panthor gave a growl from behind him, ensuring even fools like Whiplash and Clawful were paying attention.
“Listen up, you mold-headed meat bags! While you were all sitting around being pointless mongrels, I have finally come up with a plan that is assured to…” Then Skeletor’s world vanished, and he was left in darkness.
“…beat He-man…” Skeletor’s non-existent eyes narrowed as the white being appeared in front of him. The being began to drone on, reminding Skeletor of one of Eternia’s Elders. He had nearly taken their power innumerable times... perhaps he could do the same to this one? Skeletor considered for a moment, fleshless face impassive. There was no He-man present to prevent him this time.
“I don’t care, you eyeless ingrate!” he shouted over the being’s talk, and pointed a finger at the white figure, preparing to unleash a magical blast. Nothing happened, and the figure completely ignored the action almost like it was expecting that… Skeletor thought through his permanent grimace. The Warlord waited impatiently as the figure finished his pronunciation, some kind of vague threat, then opened his mouth again, preparing to get some answers. He would know who had dared to defy his magic without even showing he had done so. But before he could speak the being vanished again, and Skeletor found himself in only blackness once again.
“Enough of these games! I will not be treated like some trivial jester, to be … aah!” Skeletor’s rant was interrupted as he found himself deposited unceremoniously into a large fountain. He emerged soaking wet, and livid with rage. “Insufferable! I will not be treated in this manner!” he shouted up at the blank white sky, shaking both fists in barely contained fury. There was no response, and after a moment, Skeletor glanced around at his surroundings trying to make some sense of the strangeness around him. “Someone is lacking in originality.” He announced to no one in particular.
Skeletor’s eye sockets narrowed, he was missing his Havoc staff. With a lazy gesture he attempted to call it into being, the mystic energy seemed strange, almost diluted, like there was something new altering his abilities to use magic. He could picture the staff appearing in his mind, and he was sure he was preforming the right spell to create it, but instead of the ram-skull staff he usually gained, he found only a strange ball of iridescent rainbow light. He could sense the staff, or rather the idea, the conception of the staff. it was somewhere inside of this sphere. He would get it back.
Yeller Ground leaned up against the edge of the Fountain of Infinity. He was well concealed by the Elven cloak he had been given by his commander, but even so, he never felt comfortable when he was on Fountainwatch. There was something about the possibility of entirely new beings appearing, with the no concept of the world in which they lived. There was no telling what sort of strange powers the new prime could possess, and in their disoriented state, even the noblest of heroes could behave… dangerously.
Nevertheless, with the steady rise in Imperial forces patrolling the fountain itself, sending military soldiers to scout for new primes was becoming no longer an option. His commander, Sir Brigmund, would never admit the truth, but to Yeller, the change in tactics could only mean one thing: The Empire was winning the battle for the Nexus.
The young boy shuddered slightly, and pulled his elven cloak tighter around himself. If the Empire really was gaining the upper hand in the Nexus, it would mean they would be able to establish a foot hold in virtually any of the verses, and the Kingdom might not even be aware of their plans, let alone able to actively combat them. That was why he had signed up with the garrison at such a young age after all, to fight back against the empire and protect the ones he cared about. His job was important, after all, it took only a handful of primes to utterly flip the tables of a battle. Every prime that joined the Kingdom was one less prime that might join the Empire. There was no price too high to prevent that from happening.
The boy perked up from his slouch as he heard something. Someone was talking in a rather loud voice, and from the snippets of confusion Yeller could hear it was most likely a new prime. He began to edge his way around the side of the fountain, doing his utmost to remain hidden. His job was clear: find info on the prime, then figure out where they are headed so that actual diplomats can be sent to recruit them.
Yeller peered around the edge of the fountain, getting his first glimpse of the prime. Blue skinned and hooded, the seemed to be focusing intently on something. Peering closer he saw the unmistakable hue of summoning. Based on the muttering the prime it seemed that things were not going as they expected. This one was definitely fountain fresh.
Yeller snuck back around the edge a little before pulling out one of the scrolls he had been given at the start of his mission. He unrolled it and did his best to read the incantation in his head first since mispronouncing to badly could lead to what his squad mate had dubbed “seriously bad consequences”. Once he was sure he had the words correct, he spoke them aloud. There was a faint glow, though it made next to no impact on the whiteness around it. Yeller felt strangely distant, and the voice of the squad’s wizard echoed into his mind.
“this is Fountainwatch, right? Do you have something to report?” came the willowy voice, the spell giving it a strangely echoing tone that put Yeller ill at ease.
“The fountain is acting up again. There’s a prime here already, and it seems like there could be more coming.” Yeller looked up as the prime gave a shout of triumph, brandishing a horn headed skull atop a large staff. Yeller’s eyes widened as he saw the skull that lurked underneath the prime’s hood.
“Nothing can withstand the might of Skeletor! Nhe, hee hee he he he!”
Yeller gulped. “Now would be a good time for you to send some people to the fountain…”