The Call to Rise

Dancing to the Beat of My Own Drum Part 3: Dynamite

Hey look, a wild update. XD

I dunno what else to say, so let's just get started. 

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Location: unknown

Garmadon watched as a small group of Fangpyre thugs walked into his room. "Well?" he barked, not in the mood for any shenanigans.

There was some murmuring among the group before a thug stumbled forward, most likely shoved to the front. He whimpered before taking a few steps forward and bowing. "Ve have the gem, my lord," he said, pulling out a beautifully cut red stone the size of a fist.

Garmadon bent down and took the gem from the thug. He examined it, tilting his head to the side. The Fangpyres held their breath, hoping that they had done their master proud.

Snarling, Garmadon threw the gem at the group, hitting one of the thugs in the head. "You idiots!" he shouted, his red eyes glinting furiously. "That's not a Power Gem, it's just an ordinary ruby!"

The Fangpyres quaked with fear. "Ve-Ve're sorry, my lord," one brave Fangpyre squeaked.

Garmadon growled. "Get out of my sight!" he demanded. "And pray that I don't hunt you lot down later and make you pay for your stupidity."

The thugs quickly exited the room, not wanting to face their master's wrath. Garmadon growled again before sighing, stalking over to his chair and sitting down in it. He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Idiots," he muttered, his voice full of venom.

"Oh dear," a very unwelcome voice suddenly sounded. "You look like you have a migraine. Does my lord require an Advil?"

Garmadon just barely managed to resist the urge to groan. "What do you want, Pythor?" he spat.

The purple clad man entered the room, surprisingly with Skales in tow. "Oh nothing, m'lord," Pythor responded, mock-bowing. "Though Skales said that he and his men had found something...interesting while in town."

Garmadon arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Taking this as good sign, Skales stepped forward. "We found this hanging on multiple buildings and telephone poles, my master," the young man said, reaching into his pockets and digging out a piece of paper. "We thought it might interest you, sire."

Garmadon took the offered paper and unfolded it. The paper revealed itself to be a flyer advertising a talent show. The red eyed man almost snapped at Skales, demanding what the Hypnobrai leader thought was so important about a talent show, when something on the flyer caught his eye. He pulled the flyer closer, studying the big picture of a golden cup on the front. "I know this trophy..." he muttered, sifting through his mind, trying to remember why the cup seemed familiar to him.

"One of my men overheard people talking about it," Skales supplied. "They call it the Jewel Cup."

Crimson eyes widened. "Of course," Garmadon said, smirking. "The local legend says that the gem in the cup is a Power Gem."

"'Legend', my lord?" Pythor questioned, quirking an eyebrow. "Surely you aren't planning on pursuing yet another fairy tale? Besides, I've already looked into this Jewel Cup. It's heavily guarded, even during the contest. Even I would have a tough time stealing it."

"But it's not so heavily guarded immediately after the competition," Garmadon mused aloud. "All we would need to do is wait until the contest is over and swipe the cup from the winner." Garmadon snapped his fingers. "It'll be easy."

"What about those pesky ninja?" Pythor asked.

Garmadon raised an eyebrow. "Why Pythor," he said slyly, smirking. "I would think that one as talented and skillful as you would be able to handle those nuisances. I mean, it's not like they'd ever get the best of you."