How Pentakill Saved Snowdown
Now that we're in the month of December, I decided to post something that I thought of last year but couldn't finish in time. I restarted it last month and finished it a few days before USA Turkey Day. This is a bit different from my normal style, I wanted to be a little campy and cheesy.
Now, a parody to a parody that was never made. This is How Pentakill Saved Snowdown.
Please tell me how you felt about it below.
To many, the Freljord is a cruel and unforgiving place. But there are time where even its most hardened inhabitants carry a soft smile on their face. The most prominent of these times is the Snowdown festival. A gathering held by all tribes every year. Where the great poro king comes down and spreads good cheer. Friends and enemies laugh with each other like a brother. For in the coldest of winters, Snowdown gives a warmth like no summer. But not all love Snowdown, and some seek to stop it. On such villain almost succeeded. Whereas not even Braum could save the day. Snowdown would have been lost, if not for one Motley Crue from beyond the icy borders. So come children, gather around, And hear the tale of how Pentakill Saved Snowdown.
Our story begins on a bright Snowdown eve morning. The bands’ tour bus had hit more snow than anticipated, forcing them to take a detour towards a nearby town so the bassist and his mistwalkers could apply the proper modifications.
Yorick often doubled as their roadie.
Their lead singer was a lich named Karthus. His songs on stage would shake the very core of your soul, but off stage he took comfort in the adult beverage. The constant mornings of hangovers and nights of drunk debauchery made him...less than pleasant to deal with.
: @#$! this #@$!ing sun and this @#$!ing bright @#$! snow!
Following behind was their drummer, a freljordian native by the name of Olaf. When touring in his homeland, he was the go to guide of the group where to go and what to do. But that wasn’t why he followed Karthus outside. Olaf was unlucky enough to draw the short straw and was burdened with being responsible for Karthus for the day.
: The hangover would be easier if you didn’t get into my private stash of Graggy Ice Dark. That stuff is too strong.
: The @#$! do you think I am? A @#$!ing light weight?
: Can’t get any lighter than having no liver.
: @#$! off.
Mordekaiser, the lead guitarist and most recognized leader of the band followed closely behind the two as they walked into town. The cold winds blew through his mane of hair better than any fan from a photo shoot. He followed not for interest in the outdoors, but to stretch his legs after being cramped in the bus for so long. Sona, their maven, stayed behind however. She was focused in tuning her instrument during their rest stop and did not wish to be disturbed.
The three took to the local tavern to sate their thirst of drink and knowledge. Upon entering, the establishment grew quiet as the inhabitants turned their gaze to the musicians. Karthus, being burdened with a hangover like no other, took to the bar and ordered a drink.
: Hey, Barkeep! Give me a-
: Water. Two glasses.
: The @#$! are you doing?
: Keeping us both dry. It hurts me more than it hurts you.
Mordekaiser surveyed the tavern as the two argued. The inhabitants had a presence of despair around them. So much that only the crackling of flames from the fireplace and the moronic arguments of the singer and drummer filled the air. He voiced his observations with the bartender upon his return with beverages. The portly man seemed surprised at the question.
: Have you not heard?
: If I had heard, why would I ask?
: Y-yes. My apologies. You see, Snowdown has been canceled this year.
: Spits out his water in surprise @#$! what?! Why?!
: It was a week ago, or at least that was when we heard new of it. Braum had feared something had happened to the Poro King. He went to visit, but never returned. Soon the ice trolls made a claim that the Poro King was prisoner to the Ice Witch, and now our hero lay in her clutches.
: Poro what?
: Poro King. It’s the main attraction of Snowdown.
: What? We’re some cover band for a giant @#$!ing fluff ball?!
: Not anymore apparently, since it’s canceled. Can’t have Snowdown without the king.
: Why the @#$! not?
: The Freljord is like one giant dysfunctional family. We’ll usually attack each other on sight. The Poro King stops this, hence the festival.
: How the @#$! does that work?
: I dunno.
: @#$!. No Poro King means no Snowdown. No Snowdown means no concert. No concert, no m-
: Metal!
The Iron guitarist grabbed his two compatriots and rushed out the tavern. Upon returning to the properly fixed bus, they relayed the news. Yorick pushed the pedal to the floor as they headed to the lair of the Ice Witch.
It was not concern about Snowdown that drove them, nor was it for Braum or the Poro king. This Ice Witch had got in the way of their metal. Pentakill did not let anyone get in the way of their metal.
Trundle mournfully watched over the frozen Poro King. Braum, the Heart of the Freljord, was frozen only a few feet away. His ice encased hand outstretched in a vain attempt to save the king. Now both were frozen forever in the darkest of true ice.
Trundle did not like Braum, but he had hoped he would save the Snowdown festival. Even Trolls enjoyed Snowdown, who could deny them the experience where they could eat, drink, and dance without a care? It was a magic that Trundle loved. But fear of the Ice Witch drove his people to doom the holiday. It sickened him, but there was nothing her could do. No-
_Car horn._
: What th-
The Pentakill tour bus crashed through the walls of the fortress. Trundle saw trolls surrounding it immediately, only to be knocked away by the axe guitar of Mordekaiser as he stepped out of the bus. The rest soon followed, some worse for wear.
: pulls out his staff that he was impaled on "Can’t you @#$!ing drive, Yorick!?"
: "It’s easier when someone has a seatbelt on" he looked to the window, covered with booze from a spilled drink "And a closed bottle." eyes Olaf.
: Brushing the snow off of his hat "What?"
: Where did he get the booze?
: Hey, I watched him like a hawk!
: So where did he get it?
: Taps Olaf’s shoulder and points to the trolls and the Giant Frozen Poro in the distance "Is that it?" She asks in sign language.
: Brandishes his drumclubs "Yep. And we got an army in our way. Finally, some fun!"
The band mowed through the trolls like rabid beasts. Music, metal, laughter, and undead growls filled the Ice Witch’s lair as they pushed forward. Trundle was stunned at the display of brutality. Lissandra was not.
: What in the Watchers is going on here?!
: Hey, you the Ice @#$!%?!
: ...What do you want?
: We’re here for the @#$!ing Poro King and what’s his name.
: Braum.
: laughs "By all means, take the giant furball."
: We’ll see about th-wait what?
: Yes, take him. I will enjoy seeing the despair across the faces of children when they see the Poro King eternally trapped in true ice.
: I thought you were blind?
: facepalms
: The @#$! is true ice?!
: It is only the ultimate manifestation of cold. A frozen hold that not even the hottest flames can weaken. They are as good as dead.
: Hue, hue, hue.
: Is he...laughing? Why is he laughing?
: setting up his mic Not even the hottest flames can melt it?
: Y-yes...what are you all doing?
: Quite simple. That ice is what stands between us and our concert. So something being as trivial as unmeltable won’t stop us.
: Do you not understand?! It’s hopeless! You have no options!
: We. Have. METAL!!!!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=be1waE9myCU
Their music echoed throughout the halls, shaking the foundation with the soul of metal. The trolls watched in awe at the impromptu concert, losing any attention to the slowly crumbling walls around them. Lissandra screamed orders, but her shrilled demands were deafened by the music. In anger she tried to encase the band in ice, but it shattered faster than it could form.
: I-Impossible!
She backed into the frozen Poro King. Running her hands across the ice, she could feel cracks beginning to form with every beat. She tried to seal them as quickly as she could, but the metal would not be denied. Lissandra screamed at the madness of the music as the ice shattered. The witch was almost crushed under the weight of her perfect prison. Her end was spared by Braum and his massive shield.
: You? Why? How?!
: Extended his hand to help her up “Because even the iciest heart needs warm smile.”
: ...I’m blind.
: But not deaf. Listen to the music they play and let the rhythm shatter the ice of your heart. If only for a day.
The ice witch listened to the horrific beat, mainly because Braum’s grip was too strong to break from. The “music” felt more like the screeching of a frost wyrm, at first anyway. Soon she could feel the melody beat into her chest. Slowly, her icy heart pumped. It pumped faster and faster until its own frozen cage shattered. She screamed in pain, shock, and euphoria. She smiled. The metal had found her.
In triumph, the band rode back into town atop the Poro King. The trolls followed closely behind, carrying their instruments and speakers faster that Yorick’s own mistwalkers ever could. The townsfolk cheered on their heroes and quickly spread the news of the Poro Kings’ liberation across the land.
By nightfall all was quiet. Travelers arrived in confusion to see only darkness where they were promised a festival. Then bright lights shown across the sky, brighter than any aurora across a winter night. A massive stage was revealed, surrounded by a sea of trolls, ursine, and humans cheering together.
Five figures stood on the stage. Their presence alone felt like that of giants.
: Frejlord, are you ready?!
The crowd roared in agreement.
