#dramak

[mister-e-mime]

Dramak will rise again!

[gailerries]

my royal nemesis is sooo good but i already know the whole plotline and ending with the real seori is gonna irritate me 😭😭😭

[perdanagolds]

Kenapa perlu pilih MASK MEIN KOSMETIC.? 1.MUDAH DIGUNAKAN 2.BERKESAN 3.JIMAT YG BELUM CUBA....MEH LA CUBA.. NAK RASA MUKA ALA-ALA KPOP IDOL..TIADA JERAWAT.TIADA MASALAH JERAGAT,BINTIK HITAM.. MULA LA DENGAN MIEN KOSMETIK..SURE BERBALOI.. Cuba tgk link @kosmetik_flawles_dyera ..Tampa was-was.. #maskfacemien#maskcarebeauty#glowing#skincare#malaysian#beauty#korea#Kpop#dramaK#koreandrama#koreanskincaremalaysia#koreastyle#korealook#halal#oleamaskpack#lifeatylemalaysia#bloggerstyle#antiaging#smooth.

[perdanagolds]

السَّلاَمُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللهِ وَبَرَكَاتُهُ. 🤗 NAK INFO PASAL MASK MEIN . Kenapa perlu pilih MASK MEIN COSMETIC.? . 1.MUDAH DIGUNAKAN 2.BERKESAN 3.JIMAT . . YG BELUM CUBA....MEH LA CUBA.. 🤗NAK RASA MUKA ALA-ALA KPOP IDOL..💁 😁TIADA JERAWAT 😁TIADA MASALAH JERAGAT 😁BINTIK HITAM.. . . MULA LA DENGAN MIEN KOSMETIK..💁SURE BERBALOI. . . #maskfacemien#maskcarebeauty#glowing#skincare#malaysian#beauty#korea#Kpop#dramaK#koreandrama#koreanskincaremalaysia#koreastyle#korealook#halal#oleamaskpack#lifeatylemalaysia#bloggerstyle#antiaging#smooth.

[perdanagolds]

MALAM NIE NAK INFO PASAL MASK MEIN . Kenapa perlu pilih MASK MEIN KOSMETIC.? 1.MUDAH DIGUNAKAN 2.BERKESAN 3.JIMAT YG BELUM CUBA....MEH LA CUBA.. NAK RASA MUKA ALA-ALA KPOP IDOL..TIADA JERAWAT.TIADA MASALAH JERAGAT,BINTIK HITAM.. MULA LA DENGAN MIEN KOSMETIK..SURE BERBALOI.. #maskfacemien#maskcarebeauty#glowing#skincare#malaysian#beauty#korea#Kpop#dramaK#koreandrama#koreanskincaremalaysia#koreastyle#korealook#halal#oleamaskpack#lifeatylemalaysia#bloggerstyle#antiaging#smooth.

[mister-e-mime]

The Unmasking

Darkness. Utter darkness filled the deepest levels of the Astrub sewers. Or rather the large open spaces beneath the complex sewage system, for none of the builders of the City of Mercenaries had ever set foot down here. During the construction they had quickly learned that letting all water collect in the central sinkhole beneath the city was adequate enough to get rid of it, so they did not feel inclined to expand on their excavations.

Over the years the polluted city waters had eaten away the ‘mushy bits’ of the foundation, leaving an entire maze of caverns and tunnels and creating their own biotope, mostly of the slimy variety. The walls were decorated with mosses and bioluminescent mushrooms, feeding ground to every kind of larva in the World of Twelve.

A small herd of the red variety was grazing near the water’s entry point, a large and rather light cave with several waterfalls coming from the hole in the ceiling filling up the brownish lake at the center of the room. The scarlet grubs were quite startled when a loud splash suddenly filled the room, but when  nothing more happened afterwards to disturb their peace, they returned to their daily meal.

But when a bit later a second splash followed and even later a third, the spineless creatures decided to cut their losses and flee back into their dark corridors, certainly when the third splash caused a blonde woman to emerge from the pool a bit later, gasping for air and gagging from the sewage she had swallowed.

After recovering from the dive she recomposed herself and with a fluent gesture summoned a ball of light to illuminate the darker parts of the room. “Dammit,” she muttered under her breath, “he isn’t here anymore. Either he crawled out of the water, as I did, or he was carried away by the waters… and then he can be anywhere right now.”

“But I should be able to track the mask’s power source. That should shine through even the thickest darkness.” She summoned the light orb back to her hand and with a few fluent motions made it disappear again as she closed her eyes. “Visio Imperum,” she whispered and when she reopened her eyes, they were alight and devoid of pupils or irises.

With the power of her spell she could detect power sources nearby, not unlike Eliatropes and dragons use Wakfu to see the life energy of all living things. She scanned her surroundings and it did not take her long to track the mask. It was a shining beacon of power slowly drifting away from her through the maze beneath Astrub.

“He must still be unconscious. This is a stroke of luck,” Emma sighed as the light in her eyes went out. She resummoned her light orb and quickly darted in the direction of the mask and her wearer. It took her a few moments to get used to the slimy underground of the dark caves, but after that Emma Cygnus moved as if she was running on the paved roads of Bonta City.

Further down the track Ned Marion did not share the Huppermage’s almost supernatural balance as he plunged face down in a pool of brown muck for the seemingly hundredth time since his descent into the sewer caves. By now his eyes had grown accustomed to the dim light of the bioluminescent fungi but it still wasn’t enough to prevent him from misplacing his feet from time to time.

But unlike Miss Cygnus, he didn’t need any abilities to know where the mask was heading. Dramak the Second’s voice kept echoing in his mind and steering him, despite his best efforts to resist it, right towards his goal. “Must… keep… going…” he panted as he got up again and wiped the slime from under his mask.

He didn’t want to be a puppet again, but on the other hand the thought of being reunited with his very ‘own’ mask of power was very tempting indeed. He felt so hollow in this makeshift version of the traditional Masqueraiders’ mask. It held no power whatsoever, which in the Masqueraider community meant you were of no importance, you were no one.

And he had been someone. He had been everything. He was on Mount Zinit. He faced Ogrest and had the power to best him. If he could regain its powers, he would be able to… “Faster!” it resonated in his head “She is coming.” Ned hardly understood who or what was coming, but that didn’t stop his limbs for moving even faster.

It didn’t even stop him when he tripped once more, this time dropping him not into a puddle, but into the stream of sewage going downwards. He tried to cling on to one of the slippery rocks nearby, but when his mind realized the foul water would take him down faster than his feet could, he took a deep breath and plunged back into the stream.

A bit further downstream several smaller streams collected in a larger basin, giving the water some time to rest before it disappeared deep in the world’s crust. This subterranean lake attracted some of the more rarer underground fauna who loved the unique combination of dark and dank. Creatures that had adapted to the eternal darkness and had become ‘corrupted’ according the above ground standards.

But even those atrocities of nature have standards, so when suddenly rocks began to quaver and walls started to erupt into an explosion of stones, they hurried out of there like Rushu himself was coming for them. So by the time Emma had created an opening big enough for her to pass through, all critters had long vanished from the large cave.

As she entered, she directed her globe to the top of the cave so she could have a good look around. It didn’t take her long to find her quarry: the masked Grambo lay lifeless face down between some rocks at the shore of the lake. Emma quickly darted towards him, her light orb following suit, giving her optimal lighting for her quick movements.

In no time she had reached the little demon. She kneeled down and turned him over. Such luck! He still wore the mask Drosselschmutz had stolen from the Academy. It already had some wear and tear, as she had feared. She reached over to remove it when suddenly a pale hand shot out of the water, grabbing the Grambo by the foot (or hoof) and dragging it back into the lake before Emma could react.

“No!” she swore and with a quick gesture her orb companion shot into the water. The cave became dark again as Emma focused on the water surface that slowly started to bubble. After a few seconds, a large, slightly illuminated ball of water slowly rose out of the lake. It was about the size of a full grown Crackler and hovered a few inches above the water surface.

Emma’s brow began to show drops of sweat as the huge orb gently bobbed towards the (relatively) dry land. She was about to set it down when suddenly Ned Marion jumped out of the bubble, both hands aimed at her throat. She was able to block his attack, but lost control of the water sphere, causing it to dissipate into a large pool on the rocks and blacking out the room again.

The Huppermage had a hard time blocking the Masqueraider’s incoming punches and kicks, although neither of them could see anything in the dark. Or could he? Through the attacks Emma could make out a distinct glow on his face. “He is wearing Dramak’s mask!” she thought to herself. She felt his punches becoming stronger with each blow. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep blocking him.

“I got to act quickly now!” she said to herself and dropped to a crouch, causing the Masqueraider’s punch to go right over her. Before he tripped completely over her, she fired a beam of flames right into his sternum. This stopped him dead in his tracks, but she didn’t stop there. She took advantage of his break in momentum and launched a barrage of elemental spells at her masked assailant.

This did not simply stop Ned but actually launched him into the air, causing him to hit the rocks further down the shore, totally incapacitated. “Time to finish this.” Emma clenched her fist and focused all her quadramental energy. This caused her to become wreathed in a white flame while she started to levitate off the floor.

She slowly hovered towards Ned Marion who tried to lift his head and regain his bearings. She stretched out her arm, aiming the palm of her hand at the masked man: “you should not have come back for the mask. I know this is not your doing, but I can’t allow you to bring it back to him.” She fired of shots of pure light energy from her hand.

Ned managed to block the first ones with an energy shield of his own, but he and the mask were still too weak and it didn’t take long for his defenses to falter. A more powerful blast broke his barrier and hit him straight on the mask. The impact knocked back his head, blew the mask straight off his face and further down the shore.

Emma hovered past the again now unconscious Masqueraider and towards the mask, but when she got close to it, she noticed several Drhellers sniffing around it. She fired a warning shot above their heads to scare them off, but this only caused them to turn towards her and growl belligerent.

Emma was taken aback by their deformed visage: these weren’t normal Drhellers. They had long and twisted tusks and four purple glowing eyes. They fur coats looking even more scruffy than the normal kind and their drool almost seemed to glow in the same purple hue as their pupil-less eyes.

Behind the growling pack a cackling laugh was heard. It was Gobvious, Dramak’s dressed up minion. He was riding on the back of the largest of the Drhellers, wielding a custom shovel in one hand and clinging to his ride’s fur with the other hand. “I don’t think so, girly,” the brainwashed Enutrof giggled, “that little trinket belongs to Master Dramak the Great.”

Emma Cygnus feet touched the ground again as the flames surrounding her disappeared. But before the cave become pitch dark again, she summoned a blade of light from one of her hands: “You and your pets are no match for me, old man. Stand down now and I won’t have to hurt them.”

“Famous last words,” the cackling fool grinned after which he pointed his shovel at his adversary : “Attack, my pretties!” The Drhellers lurched forward at remarkable speed for their build and after a few heartbeats they were already within striking range. The first creature launched himself towards the Huppermage, only to meet her blade in midair.

It only took one swift swing to make the beast fall lifeless to the floor. After this, Emma continued to hack and slash her way through the rabid beasts while trying to avoid their razor sharp talons. As the pack fell apart (quite literally) she noticed Gobvious going for the mask on his hairy mount.

She jumped up out of the fray and onto a higher rock near the cave wall. There she swung her blade of light and in one fluent motion it detached from her hand and became a twirling disc going straight for the largest Drheller.

It hit him in right in the eyes (or at least most of his eyes) and caused the beast to convulse in pain, throwing his rider off his back in the process. Gobvious swore as he hit the rock bottom, but he didn’t stay grounded for long. His master’s orders still boomed in his head and he couldn’t resist them.

The rest of the pack gave up the fight as their leader fled in pain, clearing the path between Emma and the mask. She jumped of her rock and ran towards it at lightning speed. “Oh no you don’t,” the Enutrof retorted as he hit the ground with his shovel. Beneath the mask a little stalagmite rose up at high velocity, catapulting the white mask towards the old man.

Both Gobvious and Emma Cygnus reached for the flying mask when suddenly a big “NOOOOO!” resounded in the large hall. Before any of them could react, a frantic Ned Marion darted in a craze past Emma and grabbed the mask. While still in moment, he donned the mask, only to trip on the slippery rocks and tumble forward over the rocks into the lake.

“Not again!” Emma grunted, but she was too exhausted to summon up another ball of water and this time she had to keep an eye on Gobvious who was also heading towards the water side. But there was no need for that as Ned Marion rose out of the water and remained floating above the surface, giggling like a mad man.

“Yes. Yesssss! I’m back! Hoodfella is back!” The masked man sounded even more unhinged than when she first tripped him in the sewers, Emma thought to herself. “Now suffer my wrath!” Ned glowed with a blue light before he released a magical shockwave throughout the entire cave. With all her remaining strength Emma summoned a barrier of light to impact the incoming blast.

She braced herself and closed her eyes in pain as the wave washed over her. When it had passed, she allowed herself to relax a bit. She unsummoned her shield… yet somehow it remained. She called her orb of light again and only then saw it was not her barrier, but a layer of ice that had formed on top of her magical wall.

In fact the entire cave was filled with ice. The Masqueraider had frozen over the entire lake, the shores and even Gobvious, who had reacted too late to the blast. “The Masqueraider!” Emma thought, and got in battle stance again as she was expecting another attack. But there came none. She did still hear his mad giggling though, only weaker as before.

Only after she scanned the frozen cave did she find out he actually hadn’t moved from his spot. But instead of floating, he was lying on the ground, writhing and wriggling. She tested the ice first before she set foot on it, but when it appeared more than thick enough, she skated over to Ned Marion’s jerking body.

He hardly noticed her as she stood next to him, watching how he was seemingly in agonizing pain yet  laughing all the while. But then she noticed: the cracks and chips on his previously featureless mask had multiplied. It was worse than she thought. In this state the mask wouldn’t last much longer. She reached for his face, but then the previous absent Masqueraider suddenly became very present.

He grabbed her wrist and growled: “I don’t think so, my dear.” It sounded very odd as his voice seemed to change while talking, variating from a low grumble to a high-pitched woman’s voice in one sentence. As if four or five people were trying to speak simultaneously. “Take off the mask, Hoodfella! It’s become dangerously unstable!”

“Are you insane?” he retorted in various voices, right before he kicked her away. The impact pushed her back towards the shore while Ned got on his feet again. “You really think I am going to give up this <grumble growl>….” Before he could finish his sentence, his voice turned from a choir of voices into a beastly guttural growl.

Ned lurched forward, supporting himself on his knuckles. He let out a primal roar that made the entire cave tremble. Left and right chunks of ice broke off or plummeted from the ceiling. “Get rid of it!” Emma tried one more time, “You’ll bury us all in here!” Ned fell to his knees and remained there, breathing heavily for a while before he started giggling again.

He stood up again, slowly, visibly trembling on his knees. He raised up one hand towards Emma, threatening her with his multiple voices: “You fool. I bested the Count of Frigost, the slopes of Zinit, the wrath of Ogrest. I… am… INVINCIBLE!” At these words the mask flared up with a surge of power.

But before ‘Hoodfella’ could launch any kind of attack, bolts of energy shot from the mask at random, hitting the walls, the ceiling and the frozen lake. “No, don’t do this! You can’t abandon me!” Ned Marion pleaded. He grabbed his mask with both hands as it continued to glow more brightly and fire off more and more bolts.

Ned screamed towards the heavens (or at least in their general direction) as the mask burst out in a fireworks of explosions, destroying both the ceiling above him as the icy surface below him. Ned and his mask quickly disappeared beneath the water surface, followed by an avalanche of rocks coming from ceiling.

Emma Cygnus felt how the mask continued to build up power even underwater and hurried out of the cave as it started to collapse as a chain reaction to the Masqueraider’s explosions. She kept moving as fast as he could and felt in the back of her mind how the mask reached its critical point.

A muffled explosion was heard, followed by the thunderous cracking of an entire system of caves being quickly  ripped to shreds by the shockwave that followed the blast. The Huppermage sprinted as fast as she could, but soon the cloud of dust caught on to her. Then all went black as she was catapulted forward into her escape tunnel.

In the sewers above the caves Dramak the Second, who had been following the events underground telepathically through his two puppets, let out a tormented scream: “Noo! You blundering idiots!” The Goblins and Huppermages around him ignored his outburst and continued their individual struggles. Only his magical marionettes halted as the villain had lost interest in the battle.

“Argh, foiled again,” he continued apparently only to himself. “It could have been such a beautiful plot twist and now it’s an ending so bland that any second rate writer could have concocted it!” In the large sinkhole in center of the room a distant rumbling became audible.

“But it seems it’s time for me to exit stage left.” He grabbed his haven bag and pulled out a stale looking red bottle containing a recall potion. He uncorked it and poured it into the mouthpiece of his mask. As the rumbling became louder the masked puppeteer vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving behind a gang of very confused Goblins.

It didn’t take long for this confusion to turn to panic, for the distant rumbling had turned into a monstrous roar. And only moments later the sinkhole exploded in a gigantic geyser of brown-green sewage mixed with some rock debris. The combatants tried to hurry themselves to safety but to little avail.

High above ground the entire town of Astrub shook on its very foundations. No buildings collapsed, but the rumbling was enough to dislodge roof tiles or shoddy brickwork and send plates and mugs crashing to the floor. All around town Astrubians started to scream as manhole covers erupted, one after the other, in fountains of brownish water, sometimes containing rats, Huppermages or Goblins.

To the west of the city a local shepherd was rudely woken as the ground beneath his herd suddenly gave way for a formidable sinkhole, filling itself quickly with seawater. It was even more of a surprise when in the middle of the newfound lake a chunk of ice bobbed up, containing an oddly dressed and very frightened Enutrof.

After the wave of sewage had receded back into the sinkhole, Donalangelo reappeared from his hideout. Most of the large room surrounding the central sink hole was ravaged and everything was still dripping with sewer water. There was no sign of either the Huppermages or the Goblins that had been fighting in that very room just a few moments ago.

He was about to call out when he heard a soft cough coming from near the sink hole. He carefully moved closer to the battered railing as there was still a lot of excess water slithering back from where it had come. Looking over the railing he saw the vague outlines of a person hanging over one of the pipes exiting in the central hole.

It didn’t take the mutated Schnek long to recognize the limp body as the leader of the Huppermages, Emma Cygnus. “By the gods!” he uttered and with a handiness atypical for his species he swiftly got her off the pipe and on safer ground. After some resuscitation (which we are not going to describe here) the Astrub guardian managed to bring the girl back to consciousness.

“Are you alright?” the oversized larva asked, “What happened down there?” Through the coughs and regurgitations Emma was able to recount her tale. “How did it went up here? Where is my team?” “If they are somewhat sensible, they are washing the filth off right now. A shower of sewage is not something you want in your nostrils... or tendrils for that matter.”

“Don’t remind me,” Emma said sourly. “And Dramak?” “You mean that prancing puppeteer? He made himself scarce moments before the sinkhole erupted. Must have known it was coming…” “Yeah, he was probably watching the entire show from the first row,” Emma grumbled. “Nothing to be done about it at the moment.”

“I better check on my men and see what the situation is upstairs.” She groaned as she tried to get up. “I don’t think you’re in any kind of shape to move yet,” the Schnek said. “Come, first you need some rest.” He supported her as she got up and brought her to his hideout for some much needed rest and care.

In the weeks that followed the Huppermages and the city of Astrub slowly recovered from that fateful day. It later became known as the ‘day of the brown rain’ and much speculation was made about the cause of the calamity, but no one ever learned the truth.

Emma and her Huppermages took the truth back to their Academy high in the clouds, were it was carefully written down. They did sent one search party down the newly made lake in search of the mask of mimicry, or what was left of it, but to no avail. After a few months, the file was finally closed and stored deep in the secret archives.

[mister-e-mime]

The Facade of Fear

…“We’re almost there”….                                                                                        …”This is madness!”…                                   ...<monstrous roar>…                                   …”Bow to me”…                              

…”Fire!”…

 “…no. No. NO!!” Ned jumped up, drenched in sweat. He look around in fear, but couldn’t see much of his surroundings at first. He did hear of the sound of slowly running water and patter of little paws. After a little while, he started to discern light and dark and saw the first blurry shapes appear. He seemed to be in some kind of spacious sewer system. “Where am I?” he thought to himself.

 A shiver went down his spine. When he heard his own voice echo in his mind, it sounded very alien and weird to him. “Who am I, for that matter?” Every thought that came to him just made him more uneasy. He got up and started almost frantically looking for something recognizable in his direct surroundings. Then he noticed a new and unfamiliar sensation that made his heart stop.

 He felt the soft breeze going through the sewer tunnels on his face. Trembling, his hands slowly went to his face and there, he could feel his scarred skin, his lips, his eyelids, his cheekbones, everything. He was bare... He was uncovered! He was maskless!! He could no longer contain himself and let out a feral scream, echoing through the sewers.

 A few tunnels farther, Donalangelo, guardian of the Astrub sewers, jumped into battle stance: “What kind of unholy shriek was that? Shreddie and his Grambos, no doubt!” These words had barely passed his lips (or tendrils or whatever he used to talk) when two of the hooded horned minions ran by the Schnek’s hideout, giggling and cackling to themselves. “Right, that’s it,” Donalangelo decided and he grabbed his nun-chuckapi on his way out the door.

 The two Grambos were almost back at their hideout when Donalangelo caught up with them. He remained in the shadows and saw how they had stopped running and were seemingly squabbling about something. Then he noticed the white mask one of them was holding. “What kind of artifact is this?” he thought to himself. “Still, if Shreddie wants it, it can be no good.”

 The vigilante got ready to strike when one of the little demons decided to end the argument by donning the mask. The moment the white mask touched his face, it seemed as if he was electrocuted by it, making him jump up and shake violently. But that passed rather quickly as the symbol in the center started to glow: the Grambo instantly froze and just stood there, transfixed and rigid.

 "What's this? A new mind?" Dramak the Second suddenly sat upright in his throne at the center of his hideout. "And it has gotten hold of my mask. But this one is a cruder one.... certainly not human." The masked villain chuckled. "But all the better. This little pebble of a brain will be no match for my power! He will bring my main star straight back to me."

 He raised both his hands and spoke into the great hall that was his haven bag: "Listen to me, puppet, and listen well. I am your new Master. You will obey my every command." Back in the sewers, the masked Grambo muttered: "...me obey." Dramak's voice boomed in his head: "You will come to me. Let nothing stand in your way of following my instructions." The demon stretched out both his arms in front of him and slowly started to wobble away from the hideout.

 His partner grabbed him by the arm: "Hey, where do you think you're going?" But without ever turning around, the entranced Grambo just swung his arm and hurled his companion into the wall. About two feet deep into the wall. "What kind of witchcraft is this?" Donalangelo thought. “Better not rush into this or I’ll end up a wall flower myself.” And he slid back into the shadows.

 On the other end of the sewer maze, Ned Marion was running around like a possessed madman. Every turn he took, every thought he thought was like a new sting of a whip to keep him going. At this point, he was so far gone that he wasn’t even minding his surrounding anymore: he knocked over piles of garbage and stepped on the scurrying rats without stopping. All the way, maniacally mumbling a simple mantra: “don’t think, don’t think, don’t think, don’t think”

 So it was no surprise that the unmasked masqueraider was caught completely by surprise by the bolas that suddenly wrapped themselves around his feet, causing him to crash head first into the shallow sewage. Before he could get up, two hooded men jumped him and tied his hands behind his back before pulling him out of the water. Ned squirmed and flailed helplessly as two more hooded figures appeared from the shadows.

 “This is definitely his puppet,” one of the figures spoke in a distinct female voice, “but he’s no longer in possession of our quarry. Ask him!” “It’s no use,” one of the others said, “he won’t even listen. He’s completely lost it.” “I’ll fix that,” the woman spoke again and she raised her hand. On the back of her hand, a red symbol glowed and small sparks appeared. She aimed her hand at the soaked Ned Marion and for a moment, Ned jerked uncontrollably as small bolts danced over his body.

 Then all fell quiet. “Miss Platina,” the woman said, “do we have one of those mask copies with us? Maybe that will calm him down.” One of the hooded companions pulled an odd looking coward’s mask out of her satchel and placed it on their temporary stunned prey. Ned felt a calm coming over him as his face was once again covered up. “Hello, Ned,” a voice resounded in his head, “you have been gone for too long.”

 “Where… where am I?” Ned said after a long silence. The hooded woman stood next to him: “in the sewers of Astrub.” “Astrub?! How in Sadida’s name did I get over here?” “That’s what I would like to know,” the woman said while two of her companions untied Ned Marion’s legs and lifted him up. “We had a hard time tracking you, ‘Hoodfella’.” Ned seemed to be pondering this name as he tried to grasp the entire situation: “…I was on Mount Zinit… wasn’t I?”

 Before any of his assailants could answer his question, another hooded figure came rushing down the corridor: “Miss Cygnus, we have found it!” The woman immediately turned her attention to the messenger: “Where is it then?” “We don’t have it yet, Miss. It has found another host… and it is on its way to him!” “What?! He’s here too? Why wasn’t I informed of this? Everyone, move out! We must intercept it before he gets his hands on it!”

 In the blink of an eye, the entire party darted into the sewer tunnels, leaving Ned Marion alone and confused again. “Now what do we do?” he said to himself. “I still don’t feel complete.” “Follow that woman. She holds more answers than she let on.” Following his own advice, Ned head off in the same direction as the hooded band. While he ran, he felt his body and mind getting reacquainted with the magic that was coursing through the mask.

 In the meanwhile the mysterious Miss Cygnus and her companions were racing through the shallow sewage of Astrub. Only when the tunnel passed into a large room did they halt for the first time. It was the central hub of the entire sewage system, with a huge hole in the middle surrounded by railings in which all gutters and pipes coming from the tunnels discharged their sewage. On a wooden platform on the other side of the hole, the mutated Schnek Donalangelo greeted them.

 “He is on his way here! A small Grambo wearing an odd white mask. But be careful, he has far more power than his stature would make you believe!” He had hardly finished his sentence when the little demon appeared in one of the tunnel openings. “There he is!” the female leader shouted, “Stop him at all costs, but keep your distance. The mask is extremely unstable and could go off at any time. Bombard him from afar and incapacitate him.”

 The hooded men and women fanned out over the great hall and started to launch all kind of elemental attacks at the mindless Grambo. A large salvo of fireballs, chunks of rocks, water drops and blades of pure wind rained down on the masked demon, exploding in a huge cloud of dust and rubble. The sheer power of the attacks shook the entire scene, but when the cloud cleared up, the little horned crony was still standing there, seemingly unscathed by their attacks.

 “By the gods,” Miss Cygnus swore, “the mask’s protective barrier is too strong. Everyone, prepare for a combined Twilight Beam!” Her entire company started to focus, giving off a soft glow as they prepared to strike once more. But before they could actually attack, the Grambo was suddenly pulled off the ground as by invisible strings. About the same time, on the other side of the pit, one of the cloaked company was heard: “What the h...aaaAAAAHH!!”

 Screaming the man plunged head first into the dark sinkhole. His leader was dumb-struck by this turn of events until she saw the two sniggering Goblins behind the railing. By now everyone in the room turned around to witness how behind the Goblins Dramak the Second theatrically entered the scene, accompanied by his Enutrof in Goblin guise and several other real Goblins, each carrying a lifeless puppet about their size.

 After a few overdramatic gestures, Dramak’s voice boomed through the great hall: “Lay down your weapons, puny fools! Your little magic tricks are no match for the magnificent mind of Dramak the Schemer!” A few of the hooded heroes were seemingly impressed with this threat as they slowly started to put down their weapons. At about the same time, Ned Marion entered from one of the other tunnels and was visually stunned by the commanding voice of the villain.

 But the woman in charge was clearly not impressed. She threw back her hood, revealing her pale complexion and long blonde hairs that were held back by a strange kind of headband with two large ears: “I don’t think so, Heinz Drosselschmutz! This is as far as you go!” The sound of that name obviously triggered something with the masked madman as he instantly dropped his pose and stormed to the railing: “That name no longer exists! I am Dramak, the most brilliant schemer and soon-to-be ruler of the World of Twelve!”

 As he looked at the blonde woman, he recomposed himself: “Well, well, if it isn’t Emma Cygnus, the ugly duckling of the Academy and her pack of quacks. Are you still trying to catch me?” Emma ignored his insults: “And we will not stop until you return that what you stole from the University. You had no right to take it, no matter how disillusioned you were.” “Disillusioned?” Dramak scoffed, “those musty third grade teachers mocked me and my illustrious ideas, just because they were intimidated by my brilliant brain!”

 “That mask is rightfully mine and I will use it to show all of those molded bookworms at the Academy what Dramak the Schemer is truly capable off!” “You are not him, Drosselschmutz, and you will never be. It is time you let go of this delusion of grandeur. Return to the University, with the mask, and maybe we can strike you a deal. The chancellor might be willing to pardon you for your… misguided actions.”

 Dramak laughed: “By the time I’m done with him, he will be begging me to take his position! That is, if I don’t decide to sink that entire eyesore of a floating preschool beneath the Ogre’s waves!” By now the masked Grambo was floating slowly towards the wannabe villain, right over the sinkhole, out of reach of the Huppermages. Emma noticed this and in the blink of an eye lobbed a fireball and a ball of water at Drosselschmutz.

 The two attacks hit their mark without fault, but just like on the Grambo they had little effect. “You silly schoolgirl! You should have learned by now that Dramak the Magnificent cannot be harmed by your mere magic tricks. I am the greatest mind of our times. Nothing can touch me!” He stretched out his arms to let out another villainous laughter when his barrier was suddenly breached by an arrow of light, hitting him right in the chest.

 The attack knocked the wind out of Dramak, dropping him to his knees. Now Emma smirked: “And you should have remembered what you learnt at the Academy: the power of light is nothing like the other elements.” The unexpected breach of his barrier made Dramak lose control of the floating demon and before he could do anything about it, the Grambo plummeted stoically down the dark sinkhole, out of reach of both parties.

 “No!” Emma swore as the mask and its wearer disappeared out of sight. “Miss Platina, take half the squad and head down there to retrieve it! We’ll deal with Drosselschmutz!” Dramak pushed away Gobvious, who was helping him up, and raised his hands once more, causing each of the lifeless puppets carried by the Goblins to spring to life: “You’re going nowhere, my dear! We’ve got you outnumbered”

 In a blink of an eye, the puppets were pulled up to the ceiling by Dramak’s invisible strings and planted back down all around the room, effectively blocking every exit. The Huppermages weren’t taken aback by this move and immediately started the counter-attack. Soon the entire room was filled with men and women wrestling with wooden puppets and Goblins. Dramak the Second overlooked the scene for a few moments when he noticed Ned standing in one of the pipes.

 “Ned,” the Masqueraider said to himself in his head, “this is not the place we want to be right now. Get out of here before you get involved.” “But the woman could help me collect my thoughts.” “Nonsense,” a third voice boomed in, “don’t just stand there. Head to the lower levels and collect me that mask!” “What the…” he stammered out loud, but before he could collect his thoughts, his body was already moving back into the sewers.

 Back on the platform, Dramak turned towards the dressed-up Enutrof: “Minion, head down to the lower sewers as well. Should my little puppet have second thoughts then you should make sure his doubts don’t get in the way of my mask’s return to me.” For a moment Gobvious seemed to ponder this vague command, but his body knew better and headed out in the same direction as Ned.

 In the meantime, the Puppet Master returned his attention back towards the battle in front of him, especially Emma Cygnus, who had just overpowered one of his marionettes and decapitated it. “Ha ha ha, your efforts are futile, my little schoolgirl! My strings reach further and deeper into the World of Twelve than you can imagine. You’re all but small parts in my overarching plot. Soon the mask will be mine again and you’ll be at my fingertips.”

 Emma blocked an incoming attack of one of the Goblins with a shield of light as she looked around the sinkhole to assess the situation. All Huppermages were still interlocked in combat, so whoever Drosselschmutz was sending, there was none of them that could intercept them. Unless… Before her assailants realized what was going on, Miss Cyngus darted toward the central hole and in one fluent motion, jumped over the railing, into the blackness of the lower sewers…

[mister-e-mime]

Orcus ex machina

This was incredible! Ned Marion, a.k.a. Hoodfella, had never felt so alive! He didn’t know what had happened exactly, but since he had awoken on the slope of Mount Zinit, he had felt so empowered. With this newfound strength and vigor, he had gathered his remaining hoodlums and together, they were tearing through the highest ranks of the Cult of Ogrest who were desperately trying to protect their self-proclaimed god Ogrest.

 Their progress up the mountain was near miraculous, but this was not due to the combined talents of the hoodlums, but rather to one powerful artifact: Ned’s Mask of Mimicry. By some divine intervention, he and his mask had both survived Count Harebourg’s attack on their ship and as before, the mask had ‘remembered’ all attacks used on it. So now Hoodfella held the utterly destructive power of Harebourg’s Pendultimatum spell, rendering entire legions of Grambos into icy stalagmites.

 Next to Ned, the Feca Arnold Shielder summoned another protective barrier around his companions as the previous one shattered under the incoming projectiles: “Boss, at this pace we won’t last much longer! We’ve already lost half of our companions!” “Not much longer,” Hoodfella yelled over the roar of the battle, “We’re almost there.” He muttered under his breath: “Almost there. Not much longer. Not much longer and I will fulfill my destiny.” He burst out into laughter as a nearby trebuchet of the Cult blasted into pieces.

 In a dark hall, miles away from the battle, a similar laughter filled the empty darkness. On one of the larger piles of rubble, a few Goblins gathered to watch the spectacle unfolding at the end of the room: there Dramak the Second sat in his predecessor’s throne, controlling a plethora of puppets. They danced and moved at his feet as if they were performing a complex fighting/dance routine while others lay lifeless and broken.

 Most of the puppets were about knee-high and dressed in hoodlum garments. The only exceptions were a life size puppet of Dramak himself that stood still next to his throne and the similar looking gargantuan puppet-statue behind the throne that mimicked the movements he performed with the paddles in his seat. “Ha, ha, ha! Such splendid spectacle! The final act is upon us. The next chapter of the World of Twelve will be written by yours truly!”

 He had hardly finished his sentence or another of the hoodlum marionettes jerked spastically before it fell to the floor. On Mount Zinit Harlet, a female Osamodas, screamed: “Arnold!” She jumped on the back of her Boowolf and rode to where Hoodfella and Mechaflex the Foggernaut were leading the frontline: “This is madness! There is only the three of us left! Even IF we reach the Ogre, we will never…” Her plea was interrupted by a bellowing roar, followed by a rumbling of the earth.

 “That is no longer an ‘if’, my dear,” Ned said almost grinning to Harlet. Before them the Cult of Ogrest scurried away as a large shadow emerged behind them. “Behold,” Ned said almost in awe, “the scourge of the World of Twelve!” With thundering footsteps, Ogrest revealed himself to the little band of heroes. Harlet O’Scarra could hardly keep her furry mount under control as the giant towered over the three of them, gnarling and glowering.

 Back in his hideout, Dramak stood up from his throne and spoke, the words echoing both in his lair as in Ned’s mouth: “Ogrest! We are here to end your tyranny of chaos and suffering! Return what is rightfully ours or we will be forced to take it from you!” For a moment in time, all remained quiet as the Ogre just continued to stare at them. But before Dramak/Ned could speak again, Ogrest bent over and let out another deafening roar, almost blowing the threesome from the mountain.

 After this display of power the Osamodas could no longer control her Boowolf and with his tail between his legs, he hurried down the mountain, his mistress still on his back, screaming commands. Ned’s mask on the other hand sizzled with power as it had absorbed the powerful sound-attack into its arsenal. “Yes!” Dramak resounded in his head, “do your worst, Ogre! A few more of those blows and we will be just as powerful as you.”

 “Do not worry, fearless leader,” said Mechaflex beside him as he drew his Stasis-powered pistol, “I will not abandon you. Together, we will...” But before he could end his sentence, Ogrest’s open paw came crashing down, ramming the mechanical man into the ground. At Dramak’s theatre, the second last of his puppets fell to the floor. For a moment, Ned was taken aback by this display of brute force, but the voice in his head quickly brought him back.

 Again, Dramak and Ned spoke in synchrony: “You foul brute! I am no longer a mere mortal! I wield the power of the gods and even you will dance to my tune!” The mask started to charge as Hoodfella called all its collected powers to launch in one combined attack upon the Ogre. In the process he became wrapped in a blue aura as the ‘eye of Dramak’ lit up on his mask.

 “Now I will prove once and for all that I am the greatest mind of all times! Bow to me, you dimwitted dolt, and realize you are nothing before me!” At these words the entire mask lit up under Ned’s black cowl and he braced himself to launch his attack. “Fire!” Dramak shouted from the top of his lungs, but before the command reached Ned’s brain, Ogrest smacked the ground between them, causing him to lose his footing.

 As he fell over backwards, the mask fired a powerful beam… harmless into the air, parting the dark clouds over Mount Zinit. It did lit the sky and was seen as far as Kelba. “No!” Dramak clenched his fists as he jumped on his seat. “Get back up your feet, you puny puppet, and destroy that beast!” Ned tried to regain his bearings and got up just in time to see Ogre stretch out his backhand and slap him right in the face.

 Of course, when the most powerful creature on the planet slaps you in the face, you don’t simply say ‘ouch’ and compose yourself. But Ecaflip still had some hand in Ned’s destiny as the blow did not kill him. It did however propel him off the mountain at breakneck speed and into the clouds, beyond all sight. Even beyond Dramak’s control.

 “NO!! It cannot be!” Dramak screamed as he tore the upholstery from his throne. “No! No! No! NO! I was so close! The stage was set to perfection! This final act unfolded beyond all expectations! It should have resulted in a beautiful climax…” For a moment, the silence returned to the wrecked theatre. Dramak the Second dropped into his seat, the huge Dramak puppet in the back slumped over and so did the life-size puppet next to the throne.

 The only sound audible was once more the falling of drops from the ceiling into small puddles below. The Goblins shuffled uneasy and were about to return to their task when suddenly their master became alive again: “But wait, this play still has an epilogue! The actual lead has not yet perished.” He grabbed the Hoodfella marionette and dropped his cowl, revealing the white mask. “The true hero still holds the power of Ogrest, Harebourg and countless others!”

 He held it up to the life size Puppet Master who slowly rose from the floor: “As long as it is unbroken, it still play its part. Now only to find it…” The Dramak puppet slowly rose his arm and pointed towards the Hoodfella puppet. “You are right! His crippled corpse must still hold the mask! Now if only he comes back into range of my powers…” Dramak held his helmet with two hands, seemingly focusing his thoughts.

 “Now how long can it take for someone soaring through the skies to hit the ground?! The Ogre’s not that strong.” The Puppet Master tilted his head, as if in doubt of his controller’s statement. “Right,” Dramak sighed as he unfocused again, “one thing at a time.” He filled his lungs and shouted in the emptiness: “GOBVIOUS!” The Goblins on top of the pile jumped and dispersed between the rubble. In the back, behind the piles of debris, a slurping noise was audible.

 Dramak was already tapping his fingers impatiently when a strange figure appeared before him: a man dressed in a costume that can only be described as a mascot manhandled by a team of one-armed seamstresses. His face and shoulders were covered by an oversized goblin head wearing goggles and his hair tied on the back of his head with an elastic band to resemble a dusty mop. Below the mask, his torso and arms were bare and painted in the same gray-brown color as the mask. White pants and black boots finished it off.

 “What took you so long?” Dramak scolded. While he had a normal posture when coming in, the sound of his master’s voice suddenly turned him into a groveling little rodent: “Sorry Master, had to find a good place to put bag down, without raising suspicion.” “You think an adult man in a goblin costume wouldn’t raise suspicion in the first place?” Gobvious seemed to think this over, but Dramak didn’t give him the time to come up with a probably insufficient answer

 “Never mind! Where are we at the moment?” “Port of Sufokia,” the mascot man muttered, “wanted to take a boat to Wabbit Island.” “What?! To that rodent infested hell hole? To the origin of my predecessor’s demise?!” He grabbed one of the hoodlum puppets and hurled it at the mouth of the oversized mask. Gobvious yelped in pain as the wooden projectile hit him right between the eyes. “You incompetent oaf! Don’t you dare get on that boat!”

 As he wanted to pick up another puppet, he suddenly halted: “Yes, he’s back in range… and in Astrub, of all places. Nice neutral grounds. This will surely help us retrieve our little ‘trinket’.” His eye gleamed with joy as he outstretched his hand towards his cowering masked minion: “Stop your sniveling and listen up.” Abruptly the man stopped whimpering and stood to attention. “We are heading to Astrub. Find us the best ship around and I’ll deal with the crew.”

 “Yes Master,” Gobvious uttered and with a blank stare he headed back towards the exit while Dramak the Second treated himself to an outburst of dramatic villainous laughter echoing through the theatre. When the masked man reached the end of the hall, he got on hands and knees and crawled through a tiny exit, his large wooden head hardly fitting through.

 In one of the alleys of Steamulating Shores, a scruffy-looking haven bag twisted and turned before it spat out the unfortunate Gobvious on the cobblestones. The minion didn’t seem to mind much though as he picked up the bag and head out to port, with only one thought on his mind: please his Master and bring him to the shores of Astrub.