Like A Boss

[Phobos]

*In a dark, dark realm there is a dark, dark fortress. In the dark, dark fortress there is a dark, dark tower. In the dark, dark tower there is a dark, dark throne room. And in the dark, dark, throne room there are some funny bones - not to mention a dark, dark technomancer.

Only there isn't. He is out. And he's been out for too long. Long enough for the unbecomingly fragile Opposition to fall apart. Without Lord Fear's instructions and threats, his henchmen have retired, gone rogue (hardly a trek outside their comfort zones) or just gone, their spyglasses now 'good' for little more than close-up examination of their in-growing toenails. Lord Fear's creature minions have, with no one to control or maintain them, died of starvation, eaten each other and died of food poisoning, or found freedom as two goblins had. Imposing, exciting Marblehead has lost its marbles, becoming headless headquarters, a haunted house in which no neighbourhood kid would bother daring the other kids to spend the night.

And yet...

Apr 29, 2007 23:49:27 GMT The March of Ides said:

certain defences remain quietly active, and should anyone be daring or foolish enough to try and break in while Lord Fear is away, they will still quite literally meet with opposition...

The funny bones mentioned earlier? A skeletron, slumped in the corner of the room, adorned with strange metallic artefacts, its unmoving fingers clasping an hourglass. Its sands had begun to fall when Lord Fear left, powdered Brain Pills dropping alongside pulverised Power To Rule. In the lower chamber, a vial of Fearsome Potion was gradually buried. In the upper chamber, a Ring of Power was gradually exposed. And now the last of the particles have descended. The eye jewels in the ring glow blood-red-hot and the glass begins to fracture. It is time. The skeletron's jaw falls open, parting its top teeth, which have the letters L-O-C-U-M carved into them, from its bottom teeth, which bear the letters T-E-N-E-N-S. Smoke slithers from the hourglass, engulfing the skeletron. The cloud slides toward the throne, rattling and clinking at it goes.

Eventually, and ceremoniously, the smoke clears. A figure is slumped in the throne. A bloodshot eye opens; a ring finger rubs it. The figure yawns, stands, treads a path to the Pool of Veracity, and splashes the waters to his face.*

AGH! IT BURNS!

...But not nearly enough. It's like a greenwarden's smoothie. Remind me to top it up with dragon drool, someone.

*He looks around the empty throne room, then back at the water. Lord Fear's reflection flashes a grin at him.*

Ah. Hello, handsome. Who says beauty sleep's just for the Grey Sisters, eh?

*The darkness in the room has been fading out. He glances up at the viewscreen.*

What the-

*The screen reads:

I AM CURRENTLY AFK.

AFK? When was I Assessing FrightKnights? The old rustbuckets can't have made much of an impression on me: I don't remember a thing about it.

*In fact, there is a lot he can't remember. But there are many possible reasons for that, not least his recent power nap, and he decides not to trouble himself about it for now. He waves a hand at the screen, then yawns again. Outside, daybreak is imminent.*

Bah. I'd also forgotten that I'm not a morning person. I never did manage to destroy mornings. Oh well, until I do, there's only one way to start the day: with a dirty...

*Phobos - for that is his name - extends a hand.*

...Great...

*The faux boss forms a fireball. The first of many.*

...Fry-up.

*The message on the viewscreen has changed. It now reads:

BACK

[Phobos]

*Phobos has been stood in front of his viewscreen, cycling through various realmwide locations and dispensing fireballs. They pass through the screen and Phobos watches buildings and living things burn.*

And one for you... make it two... make it three.

One small one large.

Underarm.

Overarm.

Now that's what I call a natural redhead.

He shoots he scores!

Ah, pyromania never gets ol- what is that blasted noise?

*While he has been fireballing, a chime has been repeating itself. Phobos recognises it but he can't quite remember what it means.*

Oh! A visitor. I'm not sensing any magic. Must be a Little Scaramonger hunting rats in Goth again. Show me the sewers.

*The viewscreen shimmers, and now depicts the Sewers of Goth. They appear deserted. Phobos sees a small vacant boat guiding itself home.*

What?!

*How did they get through the sewers unchallenged, and how far have they got?*

Show me the money.

*The viewscreen is slow to respond.*

SHOW ME THE MONEY!

*The viewscreen changes to show Lord Fear's treasure room. All booty is present and correct.*

Right. So where in the Underworld are-

*The chime sounds again, and a translucent box slides up from the bottom corner of the screen. It reads:*

Unknown Male has just climbed in.

*Followed by another box:*

Unknown Female has just climbed in.

Aha! So that's where they are.

*Phobos gives another order to the viewscreen. It soon shows a room that appears to be identical to the one he is in - with two people inside. Phobos grins.*

Now who's got rats?

[Phobos]

Jul 1, 2012 20:15:07 GMT Shadow said:

*Shadow takes one of her candles out and blows on it to ignite it. *

Hmm. An entry level pyromancer. I don't think the chap noticed that.

Pyromancer. Conjures up images of Fatilla the Hun singing a love song to his mid-morning snack. Personally, I prefer 'twisted firestarter'.

*Phobos continues to watch as the pair scrutinise the walls.*

What are they doing? Checking for dry rot? Because if they're charging by the hour, then they've got anoth... oh, they're trying to escape! How cute. I'd best focus their attention even more, or they could be distracted by a silly little thing like the stairs they came up in the first place.

*Phobos issues a series of commands through the viewscreen and the staircase crumbles away in total silence, leaving a pitch-dark void below the hole.*

Come play the game, I'll test ya.

[Phobos]

*Phobos has been continuing to watch Robin and Shadow, but can't hear what they're saying.*

No sound. Doubt I'm missing much. In fact, at least one of us is in danger of falling asleep if it carries on like this. If I'm lucky, one of them will lose it and kill the other in the next five seconds.

*Five seconds later...*

No? Well then, I wonder if they can dance...

*Phobos has returned to the Pool of Veracity, and is stirring it with his finger in a circular motion.*

Jul 15, 2012 19:25:24 GMT Robin said:

The room is rotating.

[Phobos]

*As he stirs, Phobos can hear the sound of grinding gears somewhere below.*

Ha, good old Mills of Doom 2.0. Wait, I renamed them, didn't I? Mendacity Engine. Never quite got it running at peak efficiency until the huns came asking for a pay rise and made that remark about the machinery of the Opposition being oiled with the blood of the workers. So glad I took it literally. Wonder who scripted it for th-

Jul 20, 2012 16:57:39 GMT Shadow said:

Voice: HALT!!!

*Although there was no audio feed coming from Robin and Shadow's chamber, Phobos hears this. If the voice is one that Lord Fear's heard before then Phobos doesn't presently recognise it. He withdraws his finger from the pool. The water begins to stagnate and the gears begin to quieten. Phobos' eyes wander from the screen.*

So, the girl knows another trick. It seems she's more than just the glamorous assistant. I like it.

But not a lot. And it was probably the forest fellow she was telling to halt. Besides...

*Phobos puts his finger back in the water and starts stirring again, in the other direction this time.*

...A "please" wouldn't have gone amiss.

[Phobos]

Aug 6, 2012 18:17:18 GMT Phobos said:

*Minutes pass. The vista outside the windows melts away as the chamber takes on its true appearance: a windowless cavern. The central platform remains. Then, with a grinding sound, it pivots at the edges and swings open. From the darkness, a pale hand rises through the hole and bejewelled digits tap their way around the room. Soon enough, one of them finds Robin's lace, and pinches it against another magnified finger to grip it. As the hand withdraws from the chamber with its prize, the platform swings shut on top of it. From another part of Marblehead echoes a word that much resembles "Dragonsbreath", except for the end sounding less like "breath" and more like a more colourful anatomical plural. The hand forces the platform back up and retreats.*

*Phobos pulls his smarting hand from the waters of the Pool of Veracity.*

Should've sent a scurrier. Must round up a few of the blighters.

*His hand glows slightly, soothing the pain and drying the lace. Examining it, Phobos smirks.*

Hah. Sartorial elegance really doesn't extend beyond this room, does it?

*Yet something about the lace intrigues him, and he draws it to his face to sniff it. He frowns.*

I smell death. And Merlin. And there I was thinking that the girl was the one with the skeletrons in her closet.

*Phobos returns to his throne.*

Now if I know Hordriss, he'll have set that Emergency Exit to take them to a safe place of magic. Knightmare Castle? Too obvious, even for old Scarlet Streaks. Where else... oh never mind. Let them run around for a bit, if they're in any state to do so. They may have fled my clutches but they can't escape my gaze.

*Phobos finds himself falling asleep.*

[Phobos]

*Phobos has woken up. He is reflecting. Or rather being reflected in the Pool of Veracity.*

Good old Trough of Truth, reminding me of exactly how fetching I am. Bone structure that would make a skeletron blench. Skin smoother than a descender's bottom. Eyes that sparkle with life. But you know... *He looks down at his clothes.* I'm not sure this get-up does me justice anymore. And this talking-to-myself malarkey is wearing a bit thin. I don't know what happened to whatshisname and whatshismug but it's time for a new assistant.

*Turning to face the viewscreen* Anyone sent in any audition tapes lately?

*The screensaver of a rolling stone is replaced by a beady-eyed prune-faced orc. He starts to speak.*

Orc: Welcome to Knightmare. These are the Dungeon dimensions ruled by my master, Lord Fear.

Optimism, flattery and no apparent speech impediments? I like the cut of his jib. Spellcasting: H-I-R-E!

*The orc appears in the throne room, complete with his own chair. He is eating. Looking around, he sees Lord Fear and stands up.*

Orc: Be Very Afraid reporting for duty, your lordship.

Be Very Afraid? Is that your name? I do like my minions to be suitably terrified but it's a bit of a mouthful. How about Garstang?

Garstang: That works for me.

Now, Garstang... Sit. Good boy. Now, I've decided I need a new wardrobe. By which I mean new clothes, not a piece of furniture with Aesandre lurking at the back. While I magic on a succession of outfits, you give me silent feedback, and we'll stop when you see one that you fully endorse. Clear?

Garstang: Perfectly, sir.

*Phobos conjures up a cavernwraith to act as a changing room curtain. Cue a montage of Phobos changing in and out of different costumes - Lord Fear Series 6, Lord Fear Series 8, Lord Fear from Knightmare Live, Skeletor, Mogdred, Treguard, Honesty Bartram, Rothberry, the Third Doctor, Sidriss... - and Garstang making a slightly different disapproving face each time. Finally, the cavernwraith sweeps aside to reveal Phobos in the Lord Fear Geek Week ensemble. Garstang grins and raises a thumb.*

Where did you get that thumb?

Garstang: I've been eating a dwarf's hand.

So, this is the one? *The viewscreen has turned into a mirror and is showing Phobos' reflection.* I'm just a little concerned that it makes me look fat.

Garstang: ......No. It certainly doesn't.

Why did you hesitate?

Garstang: ...I had a fingernail stuck in my throat.

Well then. This is the new look. I... wait, talking to myself isn't so bad after all. You can go. *Phobos waves his hand and Garstang disappears mid-bow. The viewscreen shows Garstang reappearing in the Mines of Malapith and wandering off. It then starts cycling through views of various animal pens elsewhere in the mines, apparently belonging to Lord Fear. Most are empty. Phobos pays little attention as he continues talking.*

I don't think I'll wear this out and about though. I've already got outfits for that. There was that habit I wore, when I pretended to be that monk, and I... damn this memory of mine! Why have I forgotten so much? I'm sure this new mind-stretching helmet of mine will help. What were my other favourite street clothes... ah yes! Harris! I took Hordriss' disguise and beat him at his own game. I could never forget dressing up as that old dog and going on tour. Yes. I will always remember when the 'dog tour' was me.

*An animal pen on the viewscreen catches Phobos' eye.*

Echidnas! I've got new echidnas. I don't like the colour.

[Phobos]

Red echidnas. Red echidnas! I ask you. What next, blue hedgehogs? What would turn an echidna red? Either it's Hordriss being a smartbottom, Sidriss being a dumbbottom or Hands giving them a bath in Goth. Speaking of which, let's check the sewers still have that healthy green glow.

*Not keen to inspect the Sewers of Goth in high definition, Phobos moves over to the Pool of Veracity, making a "poo of voracity" quip as he does so, and tunes it in.*

Feb 6, 2014 22:20:24 GMT Shadow said:

*Shadow jumps back down and finds herself back in the Sewers.*

What? Her, again? What is this, a revival of Folly Tours? Whatever floats her boat. All the self-activating GRIP spells I had embedded in the walls the other day should slow them down nicely without them even knowing it. That'll give me time to round up some miremen. Not to mention mirewomen. I am an equal opportunities employer. And even without mirefolk, the tourists will be lucky to get past the dung squids and snap eels. To be continued.

*He sweeps his hand over the water and the image disappears.*

[Phobos]

*Phobos snaps to attention. He must have been napping again. He was dreaming of the dungeoneers' realm, of a tavern late at night, where watchers had surrounded him and the Bimboid. And he was... he was entertaining them.*

Why didn't I kill them? Why didn't I kill them all?

*To bring himself back to reality, Phobos begins calling up images of the Dungeons on his screen. He finds four intruders, one of whom he recognises from earlier.*

Her. Persistent little madam.

*The other two, he senses, may not be native to this realm. Recalling the restraint he showed in his dream - he hopes it was a dream, not a memory - he grows annoyed at these foreigners.*

You see what happens when u kip? Damned intruders. Coming into my dungeons. Stealing my food. Warming themselves off my fireballs. Dropping things on me. Why don't they go back to where they came from?

Dec 8, 2014 18:06:46 GMT Autumn Valory said:

Thousand Winds! Come forth!

*She summons the gust she previously summoned to enter the dungeons, and she and Siana are lifted out, back outside.*

Well that's a start. But I won't let those other two come and go as they please. If they don't belong here, they're not staying! I know just the spell for this. But I was saving it for a special occasion.

*He darts over to the Pool of Veracity, looks at his reflection, and shudders with pleasure.*

Special enough. Spellcasting: A, S, S, E, R, T!

[OOC: Continued in Onward and Downward.]

[Phobos]

Dec 13, 2014 20:41:40 GMT Shadow said:

AAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

*The magic startles the heebie-jeebies out of Shadow. As soon as the pain subsides, Shadow shakes her head and tries to focus.*

Urgh...why is it whenever I mention dragons now, something goes pear-shaped?

*She waits for a reply from Lufane...only to regain her focus more and realise he's gone.*

Umm...Lufane?

*She looks around.*

Lufane? Where did you go?!

*Phobos watches on his screen as the elf warrior disappears but the girl does not. He considers this. Perhaps the spell was only strong enough to assert the realm's purity over one of them, or perhaps it the girl is anything but an outsider. Perhaps...

...She is from the Opposition itself. I don't remember her, but the Opposition has been around for Doorkis' years. She may be older than she looks.

*Phobos continues to observe, awaiting the girl's reaction to the loss of her travelling companion and curious about her interest in dragons.*

[Phobos]

Dec 15, 2014 18:56:45 GMT Shadow said:

*She's there for about five minutes, dumbly looking around her for any clue as to where Lufane could have disappeared to.*

This whole place is getting beyond a joke...

*Now with slight panic, she starts walking down the tunnel again. Disorientated, she's heading back towards the Sewers of Goth.*

LUFANE, I'M BEING SERIOUS NOW! STOP HIDING!

[OOC: Sorry for the gaps between my posts. There've been some internet access problems.]

*Phobos continues to watch Shadow from afar. He is enjoying the show too much to interrupt it just yet.*

Hide and seek? More like hide and shriek!

[Phobos]

Dec 28, 2014 23:41:19 GMT Shadow said:

*Panic soon turns to annoyance, and Shadow eventually stops screaming for Lufane and keeps cursing the problematic elf under her breath as she keeps walking.*

Annoyed with an elf? Perhaps she's of the Powers That Be after all.

*And yet Phobos senses that there is something about her that connects directly to him. Not merely about her - about her person. What does she have of his, he wonders, and how in the Underworld did she get it?*

[Phobos]

Jan 19, 2015 13:00:22 GMT Shadow said:

*The sudden shake startles Shadow, but she manages to keep her feet firm, grabbing onto a wall for extra support. However the pouch around her waist - containing the book and a few other belongings - suddenly comes loose and slips off her hips. The contents scatters across the ground.*

Oh brilliant, one mishap after another...

*Phobos grins to himself as he watches Shadow coping with the tremor he caused. Then his eyes widen as he catches sight of the familiar book. He tries to read what's written on the cover before Shadow picks it up.*

[Phobos]

Feb 10, 2015 19:41:16 GMT Phobos said:

*The book is still, but Shadow may now notice that the pages are colder to the touch than before.*

Apr 2, 2015 23:39:43 GMT Phobos said:

*Then the book jolts, as if in an attempt to remove itself from Shadow's grasp - or be removed.*

*Phobos finds his patience running thin.*

Why isn't she running thin? That's when children are at their best: terrified, emaciated and fleeing for their lives.

*The tedium of his remote struggle with the young intruder is getting to him too.*

I am, like the hole I made in Lissard's skull one afternoon when searching for evidence of a brain, supremely bored. I'm starting to wonder whether this little pest and her set text are worth my time at all. But I can't let her wander off. Perhaps there's another inmate or two who can keep her busy until I'm ready for her to take on me. *He ponders.* A-ha!

*A few moments later, with arrangements made, Phobos recites an incantation...*

[Phobos]

Jul 18, 2015 15:11:36 GMT Phobos said:

*...And Shadow disappears, still holding the book.

The magic used on her is powerful enough to sweep her out of consciousness. When she awakes - if she awakes - she will be somewhere else, but will only be aware of darkness, aches, echoes and the faintest whiff of something smoky.*

Excellent. That's her put on ice. Now, who else needs sorting out? Ice! Of course. My old blue flame. It's been a while. Let's see if old frosty drawers is still in business.

*Phobos issues instructions to his viewscreen. It takes a while to tune into Winteria, but eventually it brings up a distant image of a...

Mar 23, 2006 21:11:01 GMT Aesandre said:

...magnificent fortress. It is made from a combination of unbreakable ice-clear glass and real ice.*

I see the old ice bucket has acted out her delusions of grandeur since her big freeze a few phases back. Looks like something a holidaying dungeoneer would build on the beach - with her helmet still on. And there's only one way to respond to that. For a bigger kid - bigger, badder, bolder et cetera - to kick the castle to pieces. With fire.

*Moments later, a fireball has been dispatched through the screen on a one-way trip to Aesandre's palace. It's not as powerful as it might otherwise be, because some of its magical energy has gone towards another quality. It is invisible. Anybody occupying the palace, unless they've somehow seen the future, is in for a nasty surprise.*