"Well, fuck." He cackled as he spoke, turning to the Blood-Skeleton behind him. It was a horribly misshapen thing, lacking legs, and hands for that matter.
"Do we suck?"
The red-boned creature just looked at him, flesh-less face incapable of expression.
"...Maybe we weren't loud enough?"
Again, the skeleton just stared, although Aedard got the sense that it did not find his attempts at humour worth jack shit. Which made him chuckle again.
"Okay, okay. I get it. I was loud enough I literally woke the dead. It was a dumb question, but I mean..C'mon man. Don't you think if anything heard that, and survived, that they'd be like, responding?" Without waiting for the answer that obviously wouldn't come, he shielded his eyes from the midday sun to better watch the horizon.
A few uncomfortably silent moments crept by before the Skeleton, fed up with this nonsense, smashed his forearm into the drumkit, startling his "master", and bringing the Soloist out of his stupor.
"A'ight, a'ight. Calm the fuck down, you Warg chew-toy."
If the skeleton could've glared, it would've. Instead it attempted to push itself off of the little chair(Some other skeleton's skull, and spinal column) it had, but Aedard cut it off with a swift motion of his hand.
"You're a summoned..Dead...Fuckin' thing..You can't quit my band."
It crossed it's forearms, looking away in protest.
"Don't pout, man, I've got a plan." The creature swiveled back to face him, as if to say "And what's that, jackass?" Aedard merely pointed behind the thing in response, his finger coming to rest on a not-too-distant mountain.
"I'll race ya." The skeleton shared a look with him that just had the primal sense of unending annoyance, and he burst out laughing. "Okay, okay. I'll carry you."
The trek to the small mountain took quite awhile. Even though it wasn't horrifically far away, maybe two hundred miles top, it took a long time to rejuvenate one of the busted down cars nearby. It took a lot of swearing, grease, and a little magic to get the thing roaring again, but in the end it paid off.
It might've been a shitty little four-dour, held together by the arcane, but it made carrying the various skeletons, and gear around easier. Not to mention the lack of speed limits.
By the time the "band" had made it to the foot of what Aedard dubbed "Mount. Killaman", in what he felt was a stroke of wit, the sun was setting. It provided a beautiful, reddish/orange back drop in the shade of the mountain's imposing figure. The "band" wasted no time setting up either, and within another hour all the gear was in place, even a makeshift little stage.
All facing Mount. Killaman.
The hand-less companion tapped Aedard on the shoulder, causing the man to turn on his heel with a "What?" expression. The skeleton, unable to speak, or make a face, or even raise his eyebrows, just shrugged, doing it's best to ask "What's your deal?". It motioned towards Killaman to get the point across.
"Oh," pausing to run a hand through his shaggy beard, Aedard gathered up his thoughts as quick as could. "Well, see the thing is..I've killed a lot of people. Like. A lot...And I've killed plenty of scenery, too. Cities even, but uh..I've never set out to kill a mountain before."
The creature just shrugged again.
"I know, I know, big deal, right? It's just been so long since I've done anything..New. You know?"
A vigorous head shake in the negatory from the skeleton.
"I know, who cares, who cares. I'm just, wondering if there's a reason I shouldn't.."
Both men paused for a moment, before locking eyes, and then bursting out laughing. Well, Aedard laughed, the skeleton just chattered it's ribcage.
"Point taken, I think it's about time he kick this shit off, just like Kryptkillian."
Slowly the bulky figure of Aedard made it's way to the little stage, nothing more than a few bones, rocks, a car door, and wooden scrapes thrown together, but it'd do for the task at hand. After all it was anointed, blessed, and guarded with Kryptkillian Runes. Once on stage he carefully he unslung his amp, setting it down on the front of the stage, making sure the main speaker pointed towards Killaman. This wasn't the kind of thing you just "wung", not on a different planet at least.
With preparations complete, Aedard drew Gun-Gear once more, with the same reverence. He aimed a weak kick at his amp, nailing the Off/On switch, waking his guitar up with the roar of diesel, and crackle of lightning. Reaching forward cautiously, he flipped the volume nob up to "Back Snapper", and stepped back.
Man he needed this.
With practiced motions he raised a hand to the strings, a scavenged pick in hand, and paused, breathing deep. He wanted to wait, for just a second, so that he could remember every little detail. With a nervous gulp, he jumped in with both feet, finally strumming. Just once, mind you, just one single, elegant sweep, covering each string with blinding speed.
Instantly, like the agonized shriek of Grindul himself, the horrendous cacophony of sound exploded from his amp with immense physical force. Clocking in at a staggering 213 decibels, the sheer acoustic waves struck so violently they erupted with the force of a Sonic Boom. The sound-wave tore through the little campsite first, shattering every window in the car, flipping it over, whipping up any smalls trees, shrubs, skeletons, or rocks into high-speed projectiles, before hitting Killaman.
It was like a God had walked up, and punched the mountain. It shook visibly from it's base, to it's peaks, loose boulders, turf, and trees came tumbling off of it. The sound was so loud painfully loud, so powerful, anyone with scientific in a few hundred mile radius would be able to detect the notes as a 3.0 earthquake, give or take.
This left Aedard with no time to gloat, or savor the moment. One downside to sound is the heat it generates, the ground around him hissing with sparks, the rocks ready to rain down debating becoming nearly molten. The situation was simple now, play or die.
Without a trace of hesitation he began shredding at top speed, his amp slowly jacking up the sound with each and every note.
Again the force of a Sonic Boom lashed out, but this time it was sustained, rocking the mountain to it's core again, and again. This put the landscape past the flash-point though, and fires began erupting everywhere, the air would be difficult to breath, and the debris knocked loose from Killaman rained down.
It seemed like this went on forever, but it only a handful of seconds.
Until a singular strike of the strings, signaling the Chorus. The noise instantly dialed up another twenty decibels, now approaching that of a nuclear explosion. This harsh spike set the environment past it's tipping point, the little green valley stripped bare in a blink, all plant matter either utterly obliterated, or converted into an inferno. It protected the band though, turning any rocks, or burning trees that decided to fall into nothing but powder, while spiking a 4.0 on the Richter Scale, and straight up mulching just about anything smaller than an SUV for a twenty miles radius.
The ground, and mountain quaked in unison now, but it still wasn't enough, not even close. The mountain was no where near splintering, even as the ground around the stage began to crack open, and sustaining this sort of noise would just turn it into nothing but a heap of fine dirt.
Luckily Aedard had a plan B, and switched to it.
He continued to shred, rocking the song closer, and closer to the crescendo, all the while bumping his amp one, or two decibels at a time. It was a careful balance, but he could only safely jack it up by a set amount all at once, without probably frying it, so he needed to be within range.
Each note spelled disaster, though. As he approached 248dB, the unholy force of a nuclear explosion, there was more, and more of a chance of just wearing this mountain into nothing, and the winds it generated, pushing 300mphs, didn't help. But life wasn't fun without a gamble.
There was no time to break his focus, either. Playing rhythm, and lead at the same time was rough enough, all this math was just adding a headache, but he had to be ready. You don't end up Multi-Plat for nothing.
WRRRRREEEEEEHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
A blast of blinding lightning fired from Gun-Gear, impossibly fast, and nearly twenty feet thick, it screamed through the air, splitting the sky in two with a flash that could be seen from orbit. With sweat dripping from his brow, Aedard the Soloist turned back to his skeleton buddy, offering a smile.
"We did it, brother."
The red creature merely shrugged, "Did what? Made some lightning?"
The guitarist just held up a finger, signalling for a pause.
"One Bloody-Troll-Hide, two bloody-troll-hide, thr-"
CRACK
The thunderclap echoed through the entire planet's atmosphere, the massive bolt of hellacious lightning wasn't done. In fact it was coming back, hurtling at massive speed, re-cracking the sky, and carrying with it the force of 392dB. More destructive force than a nuclear explosion.
The cherry-on-top was that it was aimed dead-center for Mount Killaman.