[PKMN FULL] Crimson Dawn: A Tale of Conquest (IC)

Thrasher and Punisher​

The Primeape had been thinking for quite a long time. Ever since they had pulled back he had sat down and had thought. Based on the numbers they lost he knew exactly what would happen next. They would die. If they stayed in the city for too long they would all become deceased and at that point the Gold Tribe would be finished. They had superior numbers against them as well as superior strength. In the end… they would all be dust unless they vacated this town immediately. Now that was the problem. Any sound warrior could see the mayhem that had happened and choose to retreat, to fight another day perhaps, but the Gold Tribe was different. He had learned such a lesson when the incident had happened. He glanced down at the scar on his thigh and closed his eyes once more. In away, they were blinded by their oaths, to always abide by them and were under the belief that such oaths would always save the day. Such a belief wasn't that uncommon, the belief in Arceus for instance often said that if you simply prayed to him then he could lift all your troubles away. That wasn't the case despite how many wished it to be so, and the same could be said here. Simply believing they could win wasn't enough, they had to be ABLE to win in the first place and the fighting type couldn't see them winning. Yes, they were trained and able to take down multiple enemies, but even they could be overwhelmed by superior numbers as well as those who had fought in battles before.

He let out a grunt as he rose up and stretched his back a bit. Of course, the Gold Tribe wasn't one to back down at any circumstances, even if backing down would allow them to gain more power to defeat a foe sometime in the future. It could be counted as placing their oaths as their first priority, but at the same time it could also be seen as charging head first into a problem without properly analyzing it from all sides and hoping that smashing it in the face will kill it. It was a combination of tradition, bravery, and stupidity all mixed into several phases they had recited. Thrasher knew the words he had spoken on that day bound him to the Gold Tribe ever more and despite his own realization that following every single order given to them would probably cause all of their deaths this day… he couldn't exactly draw himself to disobey as well. He figured it was the simple routine of every single day rising and carrying out orders that truly caused him to hesitate with such action. He could give his own insight of course, but at the end of the day he knew that he would always follow the orders of their leader foremost and that was the end of the story. It was like a tragic flaw they all carried, and it was one that would lead to their demises.

His ears twitched as the call went out and the fighter began to make his way to the place that would no doubt serve as the spot for their last meeting. The only way he could see them all making out of this is if they managed to get on that flagship then they might have a chance of surviving. Next problem is that they barely had any Gold Tribe still alive and with the army probably possessing tons of flyers, the flagship would no doubt be torn to shreds and they would all fall to their doom. Of course, if they left before the army could so much as march on their door step then they would have a chance. That was what he was aiming for, to at least try and sway Garland to heed his advice, let them leave while they had the chance, and live on to fight another day when they had more power behind them. At this point they were only a remnant of the Gold Tribe, unable to fight against such odds.

The Primeape couldn't help but catch sight of a Machamp off to the side and he sighed as he saw him running off to the Citadel. He remembered trouble makers far more than anyone else, and Punisher was no doubt looking for a way to get past to face off with the army on the other side. Yes, he had just evolved but that didn't mean he could take on the whole world with his four hands. Even if he said something the Machamp would just deny it and go on as he always did, so Thrasher didn't follow, instead still walking to the Citadel as he continued to ponder HOW to weigh his queries to their leader without it sounding too demanding nor too fearful.

At the same time Punisher angrily stomped through the street, not exactly thrilled to be stuck in this city. He had tried to already leave, but he had a good talking to and that had only worsened his mood. He was powerful enough! He could go out there and lay waste to that whole army and make them quiver to the floor! He had power behind his muscles after all! All he would probably have to do is flex to have them fleeing but of course he couldn't. Despite wanting to do so, he DID have to listen to orders and orders were to stay in here. They weren't going to win this war be quivering inside this city, oh no, they had to head out there and bash some heads in! Their enemies weren't going to listen to peace talks and the like, especially since those sent there never came back.

Punisher was more than livid as he heard the message. Yes, this was obviously a meeting about how to head out and start fighting back! Why else call forth everyone unless a battle plan was already in full swing? His frustration was quickly fading with each step he took and it was really his bulky mass that kept him from moving any faster. His mind was already considering the possibilities of maybe an aerial ambush. Why else would Garland suddenly hire on a new brother if he didn't want to make use of that flagship? He could already see the scene now. The Flagship flying high above, the armies a bit curious as to if they were leaving when suddenly PLOW! He comes down, his four fists slamming into the earth as he sends a shockwave out and immediately begins to pummel anyone still standing. Oh who was he kidding, when he would make that shockwave the whole army would fall down! Heh, he probably would get some sort of promotion after that!

He soon arrived at the elevator and couldn't help but groan as the machine took it's sweet time to slowly come down. He had to roll his eyes as his four arms crossed together and he took to tapping his foot in the meanwhile. He couldn't handle it after that and made his way to the stairs as he began to run up them.

Thrasher made his way in just as the elevator doors opened up and managed to catch the sight of the quickly ascending Machamp. He just shook his head and stepped inside, calmly waiting for any other Gold Tribe to enter as the doors remained open.

The clouds rolled in; dark, foreboding, a sign of things to come, no doubt. On the lower floors of the citadel, in a small room, sat a Lilligant, Cassandra, on the windowsill, looking at the expanse of the city below her. She let out a sigh; the rebellion was bound to attack the city, it was only a matter of when. The weather brought an even further sense of melancholy, starkly contrasting with her normal, optimistic attitude. For the first time in what felt like ages, Cassandra felt a sense of doubt wash over her.

Regardless of her own personal feelings, she had a job to do, and vows to uphold. Even if upholding those vows meant certain death, she was true to her word, and not even Arceus himself could stop her from performing her duty. The wind blew against the leaves that fell from Cassandra's head, her floral hair swaying in the breeze. She took one last look at the city below before removing herself from her seat at the window. Turning towards the inside of the small room she occupied, she saw her brother, Tavhir, at the opposite end of the space. The smaller Pawniard was in a combat ready stance, seemingly oblivious to Cassandra's presence, jabbing and slicing at the air with the blades on his hands. He grunted slightly as he continued his shadowboxing routine, before Cassandra spoke up.

"Don't you worry that you'll tire yourself out doing that?" she asked. While she saw the practical application in training and preparedness, Tavhir took it to the extreme. The younger pokemon was almost always in a fighting stance, always training himself against no one in particular. He didn't cease his motions, continuing to deliver a series of swings and stabs against the air.

"It is combat that strengthens us, and isolation that erodes us," Tavhir replied plainly, as if reciting a passage from memory. "The body is like a blade; it must be sharpened and battle-ready, lest it rust and become dull."

Cassandra was about to object, but she held her tongue. She knew there was no getting through to him, especially not when the time for battle drew near. Tavhir was capable, but also stubborn, and when his mind was fixed on something, there was practically nothing that could be said or done to sway him.

Just then, an announcement rang throughout the town, calling on the members of the Gold Tribe. Tavhir ceased his exercise, slowly taking in a deep breath and then exhaling.

"Come on, brother. We should go." Cassandra said as she heard the message.

"Agreed," Tavhir responded, the Pawniard walking towards the door that lead to the stairwell. Cassandra went to grab her satchel towards the back of the room as Tavhir held the door open for her, waiting for her. Cassandra gave a bow to her brother as she walked out, Tavhir following after her and closing the door behind them. Together they made their way to the top floor, where other members of the Gold Tribe were waiting.

Sir Lucius Noble, The Blue Baron

A deep connection to the spirit. Knowledge, emotion, and willpower are the gifts they have given us. Do not waste them...
-Vincent Noble


Lucius sat alone. He had made sure to lock the door before he started. After all, he was a man of hidden beliefs and practices. Practices not accepted by society. Arceus, the one true god. Such folly that was. Not that he didn't believe that Arceus existed, just that he was not the most important.

Spread out on the table in front of Lucius, was a series of cards, each bearing a different picture and word. "War is coming. Tell me, what does it mean for the Gold Tribe?" His voice was hoarse, but sophisticated. As he drew the final card, his eyes grew wide. "Right, I suppose we have little time to lose then!"

He heard the announcement as it echoed across the whole of the city. He gathered up his tarot cards and placed them in his bag. The bag itself held many wonders, the tools of an old mystic. He whispered a few words to the bag, which strangely enough caused it to snap tightly shut. He picked up the bag and floated to the door. Most would have walked, but walking really requires legs, which the Jellicent didn't really have. They had appendages on the bottom of their body, but those were hardly any good for anything but swimming. Their light consistency, however, made floating quite easy.

Lucius walked the corridors of the citadel, so much emptier than they had been in better days. The black obsidian was beautifully crafted, and reflected his blue skin as he made his way to the elevator. He could have easily floated through the stair well, but that was hardly appropriate for a man of his age and distinction. As the doors opened, he saw that it was occupied already. "Right, I think I'll just wait for the next one..." His large head made sharing such confined spaces with others incredibly difficult, and so he waited as the elevator reached the top, and began to descend again.

But a chilling wind from behind caught his attention before it could arrive. When he looked, he was shocked to see a single card, a card he had forgotten, blowing through the corridor. It stopped, face down, in front of him. He bent over and retrieved the card, turning it over. It was the final card of his prediction.

The picture displayed on the card was that of a Cofagrigus, surrounded by a spiral of purple and black. It had only a single word written on it.

"Death."

"Oh, dear. Oohhh, dearohdearohdearohdear…"

Pendro Malis hastily flipped through a book entitled 'Siege 101' as he floated back and forth. The situation was, in a word: bad. The Metang really hadn't expected the Gold Tribe to be on the defensive end of a siege, especially not so soon after his recruitment, and the pressure was a little too much for him to handle – as tended to be the norm with generally any amount of pressure. With some frantic page flipping towards the end of the book, Pendro shut it in as furious a way as he could manage.

"No, no, no, no - nothing on defence! Curse you, uh…" He paused to read the author's name, "…Crunge Gubshack! Is that seriously someone's name? Poor Crunge. I feel sorry for shouting now."

The grey-and-gold Metang shoved the book back into his scroll case and sighed. He hadn't been too thrilled about going into Stygian territory in the first place, but this? This was just insult to injury. He certainly hoped he wouldn't die here. It was only his interest in the place – though that doesn't count for much, considering he found interest in pretty much anywhere – and his sense of duty to the Gold Tribe that had him end up here. And lo and behold, wasn't that a great success? Pendro whacked himself in the face quickly to focus, and was about to reach back into his scroll case when an announcement came from the megaphones around him.

"Attention all members of the Gold Tribe within reach of this message... actually, within limits of the city... yeah, that sounds right. This is Zack Skysaber speaking, newest member and captain of the flagship! You're kindly requested to gather at the top floor of the Obsidian Citadel immediately (!), orders from our leader!"

After recovering from his slight shock at the sudden noise around him, Pendro wasted little time. It seemed there was to be some kind of meeting, which was good. Nice to see the higher-ups were thinking this through. Pendro did have several ideas to input on the subject of strategy already, though it really depended on whether he had the confidence to voice them. Sure, these other members were apparently 'brothers' and 'sisters', but… egh. Pendro still didn't really get it. He could try, at least, but the lack of direct sharing of parentage made it seem less of a method of bonding to Pendro and more of a petty, meaningless lie, which was a bit of a downer despite all of the good intentions behind it. Pendro floated to the nearest elevator. It was occupied, to his dismay, but he tried to hide any obvious discomfort. He sidled into the elevator beside the Primape and began to twiddle his claws as though his life depended on it.

Truly, a master of social interaction.

Jacob and Sophia Marinos
Alamagna, Obsidian Citadel - The Prankster and the Pyro
~~~~~

"Hurry up, Fi, I need to do this before whoever's down in the stairwell gets here." Jacob pushed the door on the top floor slightly open while Sophia came up the last round of stairs. In one arm was a small bucket filled with dirt.

"We're gonna be sieged upon soon, and this is what you're worried about?" Sophia asked, slipping through the open door. After Jacob stepped through and closed the door most of the way, Sophia put her hands together for him to step up on. The dark-blue Meowstic hopped up with a boost from his sister, using a small Psychic force to reach the top of the door. Jacob set the bucket on top of the door, and Sophia adjusted the door until the bucket was perched precariously against the wall.

"There we go." Jacob hopped down to the floor, brushing his arms off as the two Meowstic turned back toward the main room. "Now whoever takes the stairs and walks through that door is gonna get a headful of dirt."

Sophia gave her brother's shoulder a push. "Why? Isn't just talking to the others enough?"

Jacob returned the push. "No, I need to see their reactions, without all that talking and potential exaggeration."

"Might as well start a fight, while you're at it."

"No, too much trouble, and I'm not looking to split up the group like that."

"Well--" Sophia stopped as they reached the table, realizing that they weren't alone in the room. "Hello," she greeted, around the same height as the table itself. "Mister Garland, General Althalos." The two-foot-tall Meowstics pulled themselves up onto the table so they could actually see its contents and be anywhere near eye-level with the other Pokemon.

"Hey," Jacob said, raising an arm briefly in greeting once he was standing again. This was, what, the second time he'd met Garland? Maybe the third.

Noah Endris ~ The Flash

& Pendro "Reaching Mind" Malis

& Thrasher

-Alamagna- Three 'Mon in an Elevator​

Noah didn't bother to completely close the door behind him once entering the his quarters in the Citadel. Only his work bench was visible to anyone walking past and the Typhlosion enjoyed greeting his fellow Gold Tribe brothers and sisters anyway. He held in his hands a report of his patrol shift. He was tasked with taking tight patrols around the city to make sure everything and everyone was in line and running smoothly. But of course, this is a Stygian city they were operating and more than often the people were rowdy. He didn't mind their current position and does his best to carry out his work, but the city and its people are dark and cold. At least he gets to be active and move all about the city during his patrols. Placing the files on his desk he opened his window to allow small glimmers of rare sunshine and a calming breeze. Noah chuckled to himself. This place would sure make you not take good weather for granted, he thought.

It didn't take him long to finish the report. Noah wasn't exactly sure how much time had gone by since he was writing fairly quickly while humming a selection of upbeat tunes. The smile on his face dissipated however, once he began to think of the Tribe's current affairs. As far as he'd heard they were loosing quite a bit of numbers in the field and another battle may be imminent. A troubling report as of late. The Typhlosion was certain he and his brothers would have to take action sooner or later. Just as the thought crossed his mind, the message calling all Gold Tribe members to the top of the Citadel billowed throughout the city. He nodded his head in silent acknowledgement and began to make his way down the corridors to the elevators.

Impatiently tapping his foot for the next door to open, it finally stops before him occupied already by fellow tribe members, a Primeape and Metang. Delighted he entered the elevator with them fitting into what space was left. He beamed them a smile and "Good morning" as they continued their ascension through the citadel.

Already Thrasher could see the Metang that entered wasn't quite calm at the moment. It didn't really throw him off after all. They all had a bit of stress given the current situation, and with their deaths so seemingly close then it was all the more reason to increase that stress. He just gave a weak smile to his brother and looked on as a Typhlosion also came on who was far more calm. Thrasher smiled back, "Good morning as well brother." The Primeape said as he crossed his arms. The elevator began to rise as began to play. "So... brothers. What do you think of our chances? Personally I say we must evacuate. If we stay here we die, and with our deaths the last of the Gold Tribe is destroyed as well. We can't protect anyone if we die, correct?" He asked the two.

Noah turned his head to the side with a hand on his chin in thought. "Hmmm...I don't know what Brother Garland has in store for the imminent battle but I'm sure he won't lead us blindly to our deaths. Knowing him, he'd be trying to make sense of the situation. I do know fighting isn't an option though. No matter how fortified Alamagna is, we are hideously outnumbered." The Typhlosion turned to the uniquely colored Metang to his right. "What do you think brother?"

"Ub- chmph- uh... I, um..." Pendro had been hoping they wouldn't address him directly. Hope wasn't enough. "Retreat is the simplest option, and without further resources or reinforcements it appears to be the only one that won't kill us all. Heheheehhh..." The Metang withdrew into himself slightly. Three people in this small a space was bordering on claustrophobic.

"R-right." The Flash nodded. He began impatiently tapping his foot again as he looked up to the ceiling of the elevator. He tried to imagine that visualizing their destination would make them move faster. "I'm just curious as to what will be discussed in the meeting..."

Thrasher closed his eyes, "I do know that if we try to fight we'll all be destroyed. The question is this thought." He opened his eyes and looked at the two, "WHY are they waiting now? They have enough manpower down there to rip apart the walls and storm in and kills us all, correct? So... why wait? What do they want? I have learned from my younger days one simple fact. If you are told to not kill someone important... and instead your target changes to another, it means you are more than confident that you can kill the first target wherever it goes." He shook his head, "We are here for one reason I fear... to be shown how powerless we are. It's psychological warfare. We have survived this long. Only those still alive have proven themselves to be able to survive whatever is thrown at them. I fear... that they either wish to starve us... or they want us to believe that we... are safe..."

He thought for a moment, "I have heard tales of... Gold Tribe brothers... who come from those that rebel now. Those in the Stygian tribe..." The Primeape thought. "Tell me brothers... is anyone here still from the Stygian tribe? I myself am... but I parted from them long ago. They are keeping us in here to show how powerless we are... and what better way than to have us believe we are safe in here... and have a brother who swears loyalty to them suddenly attack us from within?" He suddenly grew tense. "I fear we may very well be shown how powerless we are... but having someone inside the walls attack us."

Pendro sighed, finding his voice by talking aloud to himself rather than to his brothers. "They are up to something, definitely more complex than a simple forceful takeover. It appears as though they're waiting for something, but speculation will do us little good. As it stands, their numbers and ours at average skill and strength grants a five-point-six-eight-three percent approximate chance of survival in simple battle. Retreating may play into their hands, but there is little other choice..."

Reaching Mind began to mutter steadily to himself, words that seemed to be dates, as he shuffled around in his scroll case for what he was hoping he'd brought with him.

The Typhlosion sighed to himself, taking in the thoughts of his brothers. "I do agree that they aren't performing a common attack stradegy. But I don't think I'd read so far into it that suspecting a traitor would be in our agenda. No reason to make troubling assumptions of our allies when old tales are the evidence. Though...I suppose keeping our guard up wouldn't hurt."

Thrasher nodded, "Just... be wary is what I say. It's highly probable that they might try to get our leader alone. Just in case... be ready to act whenever. I can easily see a meeting such as this happening, a brother gettting close and suddenly stabbing Garland. Just... be careful and be prepared for anything." Thrasher looked up as their floor was getting closer. "We just keep our guard up and be prepared to move. If Garland falls, then it could be a huge blow to us. In any event, I am aiming to try and persuade him to retreat for now but we'll see what his own plans are."

At that there was a loud ding and the doors opened. "Well... let's see what will happen then." Thrasher slowly exited the elevator, his eyes immediately locking onto the Stygian general in the room. He turned his gaze away and forced himself to keep calm. No use in trying to find shadows where they were none, but he made his way closer to their leader. "Garland, do we have plan in motion?" He asked. If anything, he was more than prepared to leap out and push the Floatzel down should anything try to hit him.

The ding was like an announcement of salvation from Arceus himself for Pendro - not from the imminent doom of the invading forces, but from the awkwardness of sharing an elevator. He almost flew out of the doors the moment they opened, quickly moving off to the side and pulling a book from the case on his back. There it was: a fairly hefty encyclopedia on past conflicts. He remembered reading it as a kid, but he didn't remember if there was anything in there that was quite the same as their situation now. His mind as a Beldum wasn't quite as sharp as it was now - nevertheless, perhaps the book could be of some help to them.

Noah gave the Thrasher a friendly nod as he also exited the elevator. Upon entering the top floor of the Citadel, he had to mind where he was stepping as the wind had appearently blew papers and documents across the floor in a messy scrawl. "Hello everyone," he said in greeting as he neared the table. The two generals Garland and Althalos as well as the Meowstick twins were already present and waiting. "What seems to be the matter?"

Sir Lucius Noble, The Blue Baron

Lucius shuffled out of the cramped elevator into the top floor of the Citadel. "Pardon my tardiness. Fashionably late, or maybe lately fashionable, either way I apologize." As he examined the collective Gold Tribe, he became concerned over their numbers. However, a certain face got his hopes up.

"Jacob, my boy! Good to see you again." Lucius floated over to the Meowstic excitedly. He did love these two, the spirit of youth was a breath of relief for his aging mind. "I am glad to see that you and your sister are still alive."

Lucius leaned in closer so the others couldn't hear. "I know that look. You're planning something I reckon. Do tell, what sort of mischief are you up to this time?"

The Punisher​

The Machamp raced as fast as he could up the stairs and all the while he could only thing of what would happen when he would get up there. They were probably getting ready to head out and demolish all the forces against them, hell, they probably were going to even reign down fire or something from that ship they now had. Heh, he wanted to be a part of that. He wanted to out and punch anyone who so much as tried to stop him and then he would find the leaders of this rebellion and punch them all out! It would be glorious, and that was WHY he needed to get up as quickly as possible! As he raced along he suddenly had to move around a few brothers and sisters. At this rate NOTHING could slow him down! He was like Entei in a way, running so fast that he didn't give a s**t and could easily maneuver around anything that would try and stop him!

He kept bounding up and finally he was at the top floor. He paused there and took in a deep breath to calm down his now pounding heart. He grabbed the doorknob and opened it, though he hadn't expected a bucket to fall on top of his head. He blinked in surprise and then tossed the bucket off to the side as he used one hand to wipe the dirt away and he made his way over, "So... are we finally heading out?" He asked eagerly. "If so I can get onto the front lines sir! I can hit anyone who even tries to get inside the city! We can bash them up and win this war here and now!" He proudly flexed his lower set of arms. "We're Gold Tribe! We can handle anything and if we go out now then we can handle this!"

He crossed his lower arms as his upper arms removed the last traces of dirt, "By the way, why was there dirt there?"

Tavhir and Cassandra began the ascent up the stairs to the balcony where they were summoned. The were keeping a steady pace when a Machamp suddenly raced past them, bounding up the stairs with reckless speed.

"Come on, we should hurry," Tavhir said, looking back at Cassandra. The Lilligant nodded in response, the two of them hurrying up the stairs after the Machamp.

Once they had made it to the top room, they saw several members of the Gold Tribe already gathered, just as a Gigalith and Floatzel had begun their deliberations with each other. Cassandra simply snuck in behind the other members, but Tavhir had frozen in place. He recognized this Gigalith as General Althalos of Stygia. Although Tavhir's days in Ascanfell were hardly more than a blurry memory, he knew enough about Althalos to be in awe.

He shook his head, returning himself to the task at hand. The time for admiration would come later. For now, as invasion and combat were imminent, they needed to develop a plan of action. Tavhir quietly made his way towards the rest of the Gold Tribe, listening in as Garland and Althalos convened with each other. Tavhir and Cassandra were quietly listening, taking in the full extent of the situation that lay before them.

"Why must it come to this?" Cassandra thought to herself. She had wished they could resolves things peacefully, but she knew far too well that they were beyond the point of negotiations. The rebellion was out for blood, not peace treaties or concessions. Cassandra would fight if the order was given, to the best of her ability, even. She was proficient in combat, despite her unwillingness to resort to it.

Meanwhile, peace was the last thing on Tavhir's mind. He stood, thinking about the best course of action considering the circumstances. His train of thought was interrupted, as Garland posed a question to him and the rest of his comrades. Tavhir spoke up, determination evident in his voice.

"We have the advantage of location on our side. I say we show these rebels the might of Stygia, and the Gold Tribe!"

Thrasher and Punisher​

Thrasher closed his eyes as he thought. How could he alert his leader to a possible traitor being in the room without alerting anyone else? It was then that it hit him. Frank! Frank would be able to help, but to get his attention.

Frank… please be listening for stray thoughts! Listen to me, I think there is a plot being twined together inside of the city. I believe that the Stygians might have a few warriors within our surviving ranks. I need you to send a mental message to Garland to alert him of possible treachery. Could be that there might be an attempt on his life, and every Gold Tribe within in the city would be around to witness it, causing a decrease greatly in morale. If you can, check a few minds here and there, especially in this room. Thank you.

He paused his thought there, hoping that the Kadabra had heard him. With his focus on his thoughts he was a bit lost on the current conversation, but Punisher wasn't.

"I agree with the general too!" The Machamp stated eagerly. "We are still powerful and we have the high ground like was said! We are Gold Tribe. Even if we do die here, I would rather die going out fighting than trying to retreat or hiding from the enemy. We show off our power and we take them out! With our strength alone we'll take down a lot of the enemry!"

Thrasher sighed, "But if we die… then who is left to protect the world?" He looked at Garland, "I must say sir, we need to retreat. It is like a quote that was once said, 'If a shield is broken does it not make sense to take it off the battlefield and reforge it? If it is not then the next soldier that uses it will have it break with the first strike against it and that soldier will lose his life. If however the shield is made strong then it can be given to a soldier and that soldier will have his life spared. We are a broken shield right now, still holding together, but barely. We must find a forge and repair ourselves so that we can protect more lives. What use is a broken shield if it will only be destroyed?"

Jacob and Sophia
Black Citadel, Top Floor
~~~~~

"Jacob, my boy! Good to see you again."

Jacob smiled slightly as the Jellicent floated over to the table and stopped beside them. "Hey, Baron."

Lucius leaned in closer so the others couldn't hear. "I know that look. You're planning something I reckon. Do tell, what sort of mischief are you up to this time?"

Before either Meowstic could answer, the Punisher came into the room, boasting about how they could win this war now because they were Gold Tribe. Then the Machamp asked about the dirt. He's certainly not in a bad mood, Jacob thought to himself. He'd have to try something else to see if the reaction would be the same.

In as quiet a voice as Lucius, Sophia answered, "That dirt. What?" She returned Jacob's stare defiantly. "At least I'm not answering the Punisher's question, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever," Jacob replied mentally. To Lucius, he muttered, "Don't think you're not excluded, sir, 'kay?" Jacob smiled to make the comment lighter, then stepped back to the edge of the table as the meeting started.

The dark-blue Meowstic watched the rest of the Gold Tribe while his sister read the map. It seemed like they were all listening intently to Garland and Althalos, except for the Primeape. For a minute, the Thrasher had his eyes closed. In his private telepathic channel with Sophia, Jacob said, "He's not focused on the talking. He's planning something, or waiting for the right moment. Probably thinking to someone else."

"Yeah, thinking. To himself." Sophia shrugged slightly as the two leaders talked about General Vektor. "Can't you just trust that everyone in here is on our side?"

"Nope. The enemy knows about Alamagna and its walls. A full frontal assault is never the answer, especially here. They must have someone inside Alamagna."

The first Pokemon to answer Garland's question was the Pawniard, the only one Jacob had seen so far who was even shorter than the Meowstic. When the Punisher and the Thrasher spoke, Jacob rubbed his chin for a moment. Two for standing and fighting, one for retreating. "Yeah, we would need to counter them properly," he said aloud. "Assuming we stay and fight. But if we do, then we need to keep at least a couple escape routes open. I'm sure a city like this has hidden tunnels or something of the sort. If nothing else, we have an airship to leave in as a last resort. However, I wouldn't advise an immediate retreat. We need to at least leave that army with a parting scar, whatever we do. If we did stay, and stuck it out for at least a few days, then we do some guerilla tactics, disruption in their camp while they rest."

Sophia looked up from staring at Ascanfell on the map. "I would go with a tactical retreat, personally, rather than stay and fight. Fight for each part of the city, then give one up when we start losing Pokemon. We'd preserve our numbers better, but we'd still be fighting as we retreat. No point in fighting to the death." The white Meowstic looked back at the map before asking, "Are we sure it's just the two hosts? If we're here, then there's little stopping them from taking other cities, like Ascanfell. I don't remember if it's still churning out tristanite from its tunnels. Anyway, that army's here. That means that something worth taking, or someone worth killing, is here."

Jacob glanced at the open balcony. A great big open space, and we're all here. Anyone could just swoop in and blow us all up, or something of the sort, while we sit here debating.

Sir Lucius Noble, The Blue Baron

"Ah," Lucius responded to the lack luster results of the prank. "Better luck next time," he said to Jaboc, "Come to me later, I have a gift for you."

Lucius listened to the situation at hand, certainly not the best. "You should listen to Thrasher more," Lucius said to The Punisher. "Staying here is a death sentence. We can hold out as long as we want, but we need to regroup and figure out a better strategy."

Lucius turned to Dauntless. "They would be fools to kill the citizens of this land. They are not after them, they are after us. In honesty they are probably safer with us far away from this grand tower."

Lucius addressed Garland, finally. "There is no dishonor in retreat. Not if it makes room for our victory. Arceus will open the path for us." Empty words from an empty man. He believed in his plan, but the forced invocation of faith felt like a stretch. It was a necessity for him to keep up his appearance.

"If we need to stay, we will need to fortify out defense as much as possible. The less combat in the streets the better. If we have the willpower we should try to put up a mental barrier to protect from sky bound invasion." Lucius did not want to stay though. His prediction was a grim one, and it lingered in his head. Death was sure to come. The question was, when?

As the discussion got underway, Pendro floated nervously at the side-lines. He watched as more brothers and sisters of the Gold Tribe arrived. Lots of different personalities, some contemplative and, dare he say it, wise, and others… arguably not so much. General Athalos and Garland the Exalted he knew of, some of the other Gold Tribe members had something of a reputation, as well. There were others, he'd admit, that he didn't know at all. Being so new to the Gold tribe, though, you could hardly blame him. There seemed to be a lot of different views amongst the group of Pokémon, which was both a good and a bad thing. All in all, though, Reaching Mind had to input something – no strategy was agreed, and it didn't seem that all factors had yet been considered. The Metang gave a weak smile and raised a claw somewhat feebly as he cleared his throat to speak.

"Erm, if I could say something…?" Pendro floated to the table and let the book on his arms drop onto it with a heavy thump. "W-with respect, General – and others with the same idea – I would agree with your strategy if we were facing any ordinary enemy. Judging by their general behaviour and the fact that they still haven't invaded yet: no, they are, uh, most certainly not a normal enemy. Worryingly abnormal, actually. They haven't attacked yet – and they've definitely had opportunity to – despite the fact that it seems incredibly unintelligent to give us time to solidify our defences. It's almost as if they're toying with us. They want something else and we don't know what it is, and that is… undeniably crucial, it has to be said."

Pendro paused for a moment, resting a hand on the book in front of him. "That's why I have this. Admittedly I don't know if it actually has the answers, it's just an old encyclopaedia on past wars. However, it might have some kind of hint, and even if it doesn't, we need… we need to think about this. I'm not saying they don't want us dead, just… maybe not now. Standing our ground here and retreating are the two obvious options, and so it's likely that either way we're playing into their hands, but…" The Metang groaned: a strange, resonating, metallic sound. "Isn't there a third option? Preferably one that also doesn't involve dying…?"

Noah listened to the suggestions and objections of the others. He hadn't expect the General to be at loss for what to do in a time like this. Even so, the others sure had their take the on best plan of action. He hadn't been tasked with any advanced military planning as of yet so he decided to listen and take in what the others had to say instead of blurting out an answer for once. Once his brothers and sisters did finish speaking, eyes laid on him to give his final input. The Typhlosion gave a sigh and scratched his head for a moment.

"I'm no strategist but I do agree that spearheading this battle is not worth loosing our lives. Whether it be running away or hiding, there is no shame involved as long as we hold are heads high in understanding we will avenge ourselves another day". The Flash took a brief moment to took out over the dim horizon. "Several thousand warriors correct? Our walls may be a good deal defensible but not indefinitely, right? If that's the case I also suggest retreat. An extremely careful one as well just in case they are trying to draw us out."

AECRON "cowboy" EVERHOLD


Standing arms crossed Aecron watched the doors in front of the lift. He'd been there waiting for over ten minutes. He had gotten word late of the gathering as he'd been down in the store rooms.

"come on… come one…. Ugh… I hate waiting for the lift." Aecron grumbled, "The morons who set this thing up clearly have no idea how to correctly use a pulley system. This thing moves slower than molasses being poured by a goomy."

Aecron went on lecturing the air until the lift arrived. He got into it having to shrink into his shell somewhat. Just before the call went out Aecron was going to dig into his last bottle of brandy, but no. Now he was exceptionally grumpy and unless this was a meeting on how to get those stygian scum back he was not going to be pleased. Aecron had spent all his life working to keep order on this damned island, and now things were falling apart. Something he didn't accept. He was a hard and strong so seeing things crumble wasn't normal to him. He couldn't understand how far the gold tribe had fallen.
Arriving on the floor Aecron squeezed out of the lift, and grunted once again insisting the air do something about the size of the lift. Aecron entered the room with all the others tipping an imaginary hat to Garland.

"Sorry I'm late. Be lucky Malvin found me. Couldn't hear a thing about the meeting from the cellar. So why am I missing out on my brandy?" Aecron grumbled walking towards the others.

Aecron leaned against a wall rubbing his beard waiting for a reply. The collection of pokemon here was varied. Everyone from young rookies to old timers Aecron had known for a long while.