Ok look, I'm not normally one for fanfiction. Never have been, and it's still not my thing exactly. But hey, my writing skills are getting rusty, and I just got the creative juices flowing again, so why not get this sucker written out? So with that aside, here we have Time Storm, Chapter 1!
Savris was exhausted. His body was beaten and dented, what was left of his lungs full of sea water, and worst of all, his pride was completely and utterly diminished. The situation was oddly familiar to the former warrior. The call of death itself that was the clicking of a pressed button followed by the massive fall into the City of the Mask Makers’ moat, and of course, the even bigger accident that preceded his untimely death. Each falling chunk of the arena floor submerging him deeper and deeper still, until he was completely drowned. How long it took for the villagers to find his corpse was a mystery to even him, but based on how much of his flesh was still waterlogged when he was torn out of his tomb by Kulta’s Scorpios, he imagined it must have been a while. This time though, he could die a proper death. Never again would he have to lead armies of fallen warriors into the ancient city and kill off any who dare oppose him. Never again would he have to be tormented and insulted by the monster known as the Skull Basher. And never ever again would Skull Grinder use his dark magic on Savris, making him commit vile acts against the former arena champion’s will. Finally, at last, the legendary Skull Slicer could die.
Just as he had settled against a nearby tree on one of the many islands surrounding the ancient city, and had closed his eyes for the last time, he was jolted awake by the feeling of hot, rancid breath on his face, and a booming voice, not unlike a villager who had been force fed gravel yelled “Wake up freak!” If Savris kept his eyes shut long enough, maybe the familiar creature standing in front of him would leave him to die for the last time. But when the two colossal, bony hands grabbed his shoulders, picked him up, and dropped him, Savris’ yelp gave him away. He scooted against his tree again before opening his eyes slowly, the rising sun blinding him when its rays hit his slit, red irises.
Moaning ever so lightly, he looked up at the black armored beast in front of him.
“Good morning Krome. How was your night?” He asked sarcastically, knowing full well that the Skull Basher had gotten his axe handed to him by the Toa, just like the rest of the skull legions. The overwhelmingly powerful punch that sent Savris crashing through the tree he had propped himself on got the message across very clearly. What happens in the Ancient City, stays in the ancient city. “Lovely, same here.” Savris muttered as he picked himself off the ground and dusted himself off. His migraine was now swelling to the point where it would drive him even crazier than he already was, which would be a serious accomplishment at this point. Losing thirty matches in a row and then dying to the weakest champion the arena had ever seen does things to the mind of an overconfident former champion, and none of them were good.
“Shut up with your smart speak.” Skull Basher barked. Ah yes, the legendary Skull Basher. He could destroy a village with one fist, and yet couldn’t say words with more than one syllable. And still expected you to take him completely seriously. How it was a bigger accomplishment getting him into the labyrinth beneath the Great Forge than it was out playing Skull Slicer in the arena was beyond Savris, but it probably had to do with the hundreds of lives Krome took before he was finally caged away. Perhaps I should kill more this time. Savris thought, before shaking off the idea. He was a proud warrior, not a murderer. Not another life would be taken by his many hands. Badly wounding however, was still a viable option. The constant growl of Krome snapped him out of his brutal daydreams.
“Fine, what do you want Melda? Something stolen, someone incapacitated, your head on the ground? Trust me, I have no problem killing something that’s already dead.” Just as he was about to continue, he was knocked back onto the sandy terrain, Skull Basher now visibly angry. Well that was new. And partially terrifying.
“Do not call Krome a dumb Melda. That name is not mine now.” Krome spoke slowly, steam hissing from the two slits in his mask that covered his contorted skull with every deep breath he took before saying the next word. Melda was Krome’s species, before his overwhelmingly violent ways got him exiled from the rest of the clan of half beast, half villager clan. Which in turn made him even angrier and much more destructive. There was a very good reason it was considered a massive accomplishment when an intelligent Melda was born.
“Boss need Slice for big plan. Plan to get gold mask. Plan to make Boss big.” Krome had calmed down a bit, but now it was Savris’s turn to turn enraged.
“Kulta needs me again? Oh of course, let me just forget all those things he made me do, and all those experiments he ran on me, and just happily waltz back into his kind and loving arms.” Slicer spat. “You go tell Grinder that if that power obsessed maniac even dares ask me to help him again, I will personally mutilate his disgusting skull so he can never wear a mask again.” He finished angrily, the raw hatred he held for Kulta oozing from every word he screeched. Savris turned around quickly, and began to head deeper into the forest that surrounded him, leaving Basher in a state between confusion, anger and fear. Just the way he should be. But what made him even more confused was when Savris came walking back towards him, a devilish smile stretched across his face, barely concealed by the husk of a Skull Spider he wore.
“Actually… I’ll be happy to work for Kulta again Krome. I’d be overjoyed in fact.” Savris said with hands over his mask, trying to hold back his laughter. Thankfully, Krome was stupid enough to buy the obviously faked sincerity of Slicer, as he nodded, and began to lead his old companion back into the underground labyrinth of the City of the Mask Makers.
“Boss! Slice is here to help you!” Basher’s gravelly voice echoed across the many twisting and turning halls of the maze, the booming nearly deafening Savris instantly. The sound of skittering legs and heavy footsteps responded to Krome’s call, marking the arrival of Skull Slicer’s least favorite person on Okoto. First, the two Skull Scorpios appeared from the shadows, their yellow and black armor glistening in the soft light of the torches, the only source of light down here. While neither wielded a weapon, their tails served as their primary offensive tool, one snip on the blades was able to cut right through solid rock with ease. If there was one beast Savis respected on this island, it was the Scorpio, and even Kulta’s disgusting bright red mark couldn’t ruin that admiration of their raw power. Kulta himself was another story entirely. What tiny respect Savris still held for his strength was gone as soon as he shambled into the light. His body was still visibly affected by the Mask of Creation, and half of his face crushed thanks to Ekimu’s hammer. Skull Grinder was certainly taller, but all flesh that hung to his silvery bones had either fallen off on his fall from the forge, or had been eaten by the monsters down here in this dungeon, giving him a much weaker appearance. The sight of the once proud and monstrous general almost made Savris want to laugh, until he realized that’s probably exactly what he looked like as of now. Pathetic and weak.
Now even more desperate to get his plan underway, Slicer spoke up.
“What do you need me for Kulta? Is it the addiction you call your little Mask of Creation again?” Kulta simply nodded in response, seemingly too exhausted to speak at all. “You need it to be retrieved?” Another nod. “Shall I go get it now then your highness?” Another nod, coupled with a look of resentment. Savris held back another grin at the sight of Kulta’s displeasure, before he began to climb towards the exit of the labyrinth, using his three mask stealer blades as climbing tools to scale the ancient stone walls. The sooner he was away from the carrion smelling caverns and the glowing red skeleton the better.
“I come too.” Skull Basher called after him, his voice as infuriatingly moronic as ever.
“Oh no, I can do this alone. After all, my blades are getting dull, and I think some villager armor would make a lovely grindstone.” He yelled over his shoulder in a faked laugh. If that bloodthirsty freak followed him to the surface, his entire plan would be reduced to shambles. Krome gave no response to Savris’s request, but based on the snort of contempt he heard the Melda let out, he assumed that this would indeed be a solo mission. Perfect.
When Savris entered into the newly rebuilt city, he ignored the villagers’ screams of terror as his four arms burst through the soft ground, clawing for a handhold. His search for a Legendary Mask couldn’t be interrupted by the pleasures of terror and chaos. No, he needed to find the golden mask that undoubtedly resided here in the city. He passed the great forge, much to the surprise of any onlookers, and showed absolutely no interest in the ancient bearer of the Mask of Creation who was now standing at the top of the massive stairwell, hammer and shield in hand. Why should he anyway? Slicer’s goal wasn’t the puny Mask of Creation. Oh no, he had much bigger plans than that. He was on the hunt for the mask that could solve all of his problems, before they ever began. By the time this day was over, the legendary Mask of Time would be in his grasp, and he would finally be able to rest in peace.
So yeah, that's chapter one. All criticism is very much appreciated, and let me know if you're interested in chapter two! (I'm posting it either way, but I want to know if people actually like this thing regardless)