It was perfect. He has finally crafted the perfect spell meant only for the dark, rippling power of the chosen one to be able to craft. While Ophelia had attempted to make this potion with him, her help did not suffice at first. She ended up becoming rather mad at her father, saying that a task such of this was too menial for her sacred blood. She was supposed to be finding a legendary weapon of yore, imbued with magic and power. How nefarious of her! But sooner she had come back with the ever-leveled head of a true carrier of darkness, and she continued on this legendary spell of yore, or something.
This legendary spell was to unveil Laslow's desperate and pathetic attempts to peruse women into having tea with him. When talking with the fruit of his loins, she said that pretty much everyone knew of Laslow's exploits already,, but Odin didn't want to hear that. He was the chosen one, the star of the play! And of course, that means he can do whatever the heck he wants.
"Dear Ophelia, you do not understand! My sacred blood boils and hungers for the unmasking of my comrade's contemptible efforts to lure women into his tent!" Odin screams like he usually does because he needs the attention.
"Father! Your blood aches for no such thing! Methinks you are just attempting a jape on your comrade! You are being rather contemptible. Good bye I say! I am taking my bow at stage left on this scene!" Ophelia storms out of his tent like a little baby. What did she know about the RAGING FIRE in his ACHING VEINS? No matter. Such is the ever present weight the legendary wielder of darkness must carry.
Him and his offspring had designed this spell to be a type of truth spell, forcing Laslow to unravel his yarns and tell his companions forthright of his intentions! Odin knows that Laslow is painfully shy, and this would just be another funny prank he did to his friend. Ophelia was right, but he won't allow her the illusion of getting the jump on the omnipotent Odin! He tried pulling a prank on Selena once, but when she found out, she threatened to stick her sword where the ever blazing, gaseous, celestial body didn't cast its gaze. He also tried this with Niles but he ended up enjoying it in some weird, perverted Niles sort of way, so now Laslow is the ever moving bullseye of his jests. The fool!
After packing up his "Legendary Tome of Ultimate Legend" Odin set out to find Laslow. His blood, stained with the glory of his ancestors, was rushing to his sword hand in anticipation of seeing Laslow. Of course, Odin always had a calm and reserved exterior despite what anyone else says.
"I am ODIN DARK! The most sly, reserved, and undetectable hero the world has EVER had the good graces of laying its illustrious ocular spheres on!" Odin laughed heartily to himself until he saw Niles walk by. Niles looked at him with the contempt and fury of the almighty heavens and said,
"Odin, you're a damn fool." And with that, he stalked off. Odin scoffed and called after him, but he was already sauntering away. He got discovered this once, but never again will Niles catch him in his private monologues!
Odin was a bit embarrassed, but he knows that even the mightiest of warriors have had their treacherous embarrassments so he continues on. Such is the life of the darkest of mages. Odin smirked to himself, looking for Laslow.
He spots the philandering man, chatting it up with Effie. Odin knew his routine. He would wear down the rough defenses of the heart with his words that flowed like rushing water made from the sweetest of honeys, and then, they'd figure out his game, complex like...a game that's complex. And then….
Odin caught himself, instead remembering why he came in the first place. This was no time to play the supporting role! This was his show! He, the omnipresent Odin, traced Laslow's movements as he continued in his ministrations. He had mere moments before the curtain closed on Laslow's time with Effie.
Once again Odin yells like nobody can hear him
"The great ODIN DARK makes his entrance!" When he finished screaming at a completely reasonable pitch, he does a series of backflips and spots Laslow.
"Ohoho yes! Finally, Odin of the great raging darkness has spotted my comrade that is poorly versed in perusing members of the opposite sex! Now before he slips through my calloused, war-ridden digits, I must perform the 'ULTIMATE PRANK OF LEGEND.'" Odin, not noticing the strange stares he receives from the other people wandering around camp, opens his tome and begins to cast his spell. Now, being the grand hero he is, Odin becomes distracted with the thoughts of Laslow being utterly mortified. His sword hand convulses in an odd manner, causing the spell he meant for Laslow to return right back onto the spell caster. What has he done?! There is no way in the ripped edges of the universe the great Odin could ever mess up on a spell such as this!
The spell runs through his veins of glory, affecting him in an odd manner. His whole body shakes, like his sword hand, but instead for a non-made up reason. Sweat begins to race down his head like a spring within the depths of the blood stained ground of his ancestors, and his eyes roll into the back of his head. He tries to shout something, but for once it doesn't come out because he was the jester and cast a spell onto himself. He ends up falling back onto the ground promptly, hitting his head on a bunch of rocks.
Now there had been several onlookers at Odin's predicament, but they only saw it as another one of his stupid overreactions. As a result, nobody bothered to fetch a healer, and all of them turn around and continue with their plans. How horrendous of them to not help the chosen one of legend! Odin continues to lay semi-unconscious on the ground, and not a single person comes to his aid. How insulting,