“I WILL DEFY THE MODS!” Sir Ivy the Terrible exclaimed.
“No you won’t, sit down. You’re getting yourself all worked up over nothing.” Lady Mizal said.
“Never! Their arbitrary modding, their butthurt behavior, and their weasel words all contribute to making this land weaker not stronger! Not strong like it SHOULD be!”
“Maybe, but what are you going to do about it really? All that’s going to happen is you’re going shout a lot and then be ignored at best. At worst you’ll get the hammer and then where will you be? I urge you, don’t go. Stay with me tonight.” Lady Mizal said batting her eyes in an attempt to keep him put with seduction because she knew damn well reason wasn’t going to do it.
Normally Sir Ivy would never turn down a tumble with Mizal because he had a running competition with Captain Bucky, but THIS was something he HAD to do. He felt it in his heart, his mind and even his soul!
He could no longer just stand by and let the mods just make this fair land their playground. CYStia belonged to the PEOPLE! He would make the mods pay dearly starting with the one known as Elder Kiel.
As far as Ivy was concerned, Kiel was the worst of the lot and embodied all the worst traits of what a mod should be. Yes, he would expose this weasel worded butthurt martyr for the cowardly crybaby he truly was and then would be celebrated!
Still, he knew there was a possibility of failure as there always is when one goes into battle so he grabbed Mizal and looked deep into her eyes and kissed her just in case it would be the last time. Then without another word he left the fortress, got on his unicorn and rode out to the highest point in CYStia.
It was a Stormy night and the rain wasn’t stopping, the ground was like mud, but he rode on regardless. When his unicorn finally died from exhaustion, he climbed up the mountain half blind from the rain in his eyes and the flashes of lightning that seemed to be getting closer.
Sir Ivy carried on until he reached the top and in his full suit of COPPER ARMOR, he raised his COPPER SWORD up high and screamed to the sky:
“ALL THE MODS ARE TWATWAFFLES!”
And with those words a lightning bolt heard his call and zapped Sir Ivy and fried him from the inside out. He fell down the mountain as a blackened husk in armor that had practically fused to his body. The fall was long and broke every bone in his body, it probably would have been very painful if he still had working nerves.
And at last he finally reached the bottom, broken, burnt and beaten. Right next to his trusty steed that had died earlier in his once noble quest.
As he lay dying and his vision got blurrier, he could see one lone figure nearby who apparently had been watching the whole time. This faceless cloaked figure did nothing to help him, instead he just pointed and laughed before running off to tell everyone how hilarious this all was.
Grand Master Inquisitor End always was a dick.
Still, Sir Ivy’s last moments weren’t of his crushing defeat, but of the righteousness of his cause. For he knew even though he had failed, it all had been worth it and he regretted nothing…except now that bastard Captain Bucky would surely overtake his number of tumbles with Lady Mizal.
Fin.
