Conjuration

#01

Well... Trope #15 was being a complete pain in the ass (about half way there, just not flowing right though) so I came up with this instead. Enjoy.

This city… rotting… infested with filth and disease.

With a casual step forward he kicked one prime example such of filth out of his way. It made a noise of pain, but it was beneath him, beneath all. It would not help itself, it would not pick itself up and fight back.

It was nothing.

Oh, how simple it would be to cleanse this place.

With the strength of this form and the wisdom of this mind it would simply be a minor matter of exerting his will.

Yes, it would be such a simple matter. The city wasn't even many leagues across, hardly a fraction of the challenge that seizing control of a whole kingdom had been.

There were the Heroes of the city of course... but they were weak, chained and bound by simple rules.

Oh how simple it would be to simply sweep them and the rest away. Empowered or not.

But not yet. The Mistress would disapprove of such measures… no matter that she knew them to be necessary within her heart.

She had drawn forth him after all. Yes, she would come around eventually.

From around the corner of one of the filthy, decrepit and decaying buildings he walked between a small, dark blue form appeared.

Tiny. Hardly larger than the height of his boot the horned, buck toothed Miniblin chittered and pointed its pitchfork back the way it had come.

But first, she would require protection.

Protection and minions, minions that could forge for her that which could protect her person.

Minions that could do anything, minions that could create anything.

+X+X+X+X+

"Shit!" Scowling, he could only throw the blaster away fast enough as some component within it failed, turned critical and promptly overloaded; sending a out small wave of fiery destruction engulfed a small hoard of the damnable little, pitchfork wielding monstrosities that had appeared out of nowhere and started attacking the Lair.

Both inside and out.

Projections. They had to be, nothing else would throw themselves wave after wave at their defenses or possibly go up in smoke when defeated. "Uber! Gun!"

From his left, Jeff cursed; and with the exo-suit powering- and also enhancing -his movements, he reached his arm out and he caught the object thrown to him.

It was not a gun. "I said GUN!"

"I'm out, lost my- fuck! OFF!"

A reverberating vibration rippled through the ground beneath his feet, knocking the little horned monstrosities off their tiny feet and a quick glance back let him see Jeff rising from a crouch; the Halo Three Gravity Hammer they'd been planning to use in there next video held tightly in both hands.

Shit, if he had to pull that out then he really was out of guns. Not Good Not Good Not Good!

A shrill beep-beep from his wrist announced that things were only going to get worse and an alert popped up on his visors Heads Up Display.

No. Three alerts. All in rapid succession.

. WARNING: NORTHERN SENTRY HAS SUFFERED CRITICAL DAMAGE

. WARNING: NORTHERN SENTRY IS INOPERABLE

. WARNING: NORTHERN SENTRY FAILURE

NOT GOOD!

"Uber! North gate Sentry is down! I think we've got incoming!"

All he got in response was a curse and a frantic swing of his Gravity Hammer like it was a driver, taking out a swarm of the little monstrosities en mass.

Gritting his teeth, he clamped the expandable energy shield onto the arm of his Exo. He activated it and the rainbow colored Jackal shield sprang into existence.

Then, with lunge and sweep of his mechanically powered body he swept away a fresh half dozen green purple red and blue bodied monstrosities.

A number of them flew a good ways and hit the inner wall; exploding into a plume of dark purple smoke.

He scowled, noting that they even died the same. Someone was definitely trying to screw with them.

Rising back up, he raised his arm and shifted into a ready stance. Tensing as he prepared himself for another lunge when a near deafening BANG! resonated through the air of the Lair.

There was another, and another, and another!

Then the air was split by the shrill screech of metal tearing.

The little monstrosities jerked back at the sound and fled, disappearing into the shadows from whence they'd come.

Another screech of shearing metal and he slowly turned to look at the Northern inner security gate that led to the loading dock, not really wanting to know what came next.

A dark blue armored boot trimmed in gold slowly stepped through jagged rent in the door that nearly split it from floor to ceiling.

Then the rest of the leg, concealed beneath red-brown pants with a zig zagging tribal pattern stitched into them.

But that was it until a pair of dark blue and gold trim gauntleted hands appeared, grabbing hold of the sides of the rent and pushed; crumpling the metal and giving the rest of the body plenty of room to pass through.

More dark blue armor with gold trim covered the broad chest. But it was the face that drew his attention, it was a face he knew, it was a face both he and Jeff knew very well.

Seven and a half feet tall, dark green skin, firey orange hair pulled back in braids with a neat beard of the same color, a stubby but beak like nose and a gold talisman on his forehead with golden bars spreading out like a sun to a crown of golden triangles protruding from his hair.

Mother Fucking Ganondorf.

They were being by the Tri Force fucking blessed, Mother Fucking Ganondorf!

Jeff had said the little monstrosities had looked familiar, however; he'd just dismissed it as whoever was being this being a troll.

But~ No~!

Instead they actually were Mother Mucking Miniblins… Someone in heaven had to have had a major hate on for them to do such a cruel thing to them.

It was probably the hooker things… definitely the hooker thing.

"Hey, Leet?"

"...Yeah?" he weakly answered.

"Remember how I said making a true version of the Master Sword would have been awesome?"

"Yeah."

"We probably should have made a Master Sword."

He didn't get a chance to agree, because at that moment Mother Fucking Ganondorf turned in their direction.

He reached out to his sides, his dark cape billowing out from there clasps on his pauldrons with the simple motion. And in puffs of dark purple smoke a pair of swords appeared in his hands.

A pair of very large swords. A pair of jagged and curved and sharp and pointy swords.

Then Mother Fucking Ganondorf grinned, his yellow eyes gaining a sudden luminosity from within.