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View Poll Results: Which of the Legendaries/Paragons would the heroes meet in their quest?
Kyogre 1 4.17%
Groudon 2 8.33%
Rayquaza 7 29.17%
Celebi 4 16.67%
Kyurem 1 4.17%
Heatran 3 12.50%
Manaphy 3 12.50%
Regi Trio 2 8.33%
Regigigas 1 4.17%
Voters: 24. You may not vote on this poll

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  #76    
Old June 30th, 2013, 08:21 AM
Xilfer's Avatar
Xilfer
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Toa the Blackhearted Duke
Duskwood

Darkness hung above, shrouding the heroes in shadow. The only visible light was that of the moon, which was blotted out by the many trees which grew in Duskwood Forest. Toa felt at peace for a moment; he was in his element, shadow. The presence of darkness had always comforted him, for obvious reasons. In darkness, he felt as if he could let go of the strenuous challenges which light and day brought forth. The feeling only lasted a moment though, for he was soon caught in a large bramble thicket which spread out across the ground. His leg became tangled first, and as he tried to pull it out, he fell and got his entire body trapped. A couple of Night Slashes got him out easily enough, but he was still flustered by the wilderness of the forest.

Although he could not say he was unfamiliar with forests, Toa had always been a 'mon of the city. As such, he didn't spend too much time in the wilderness, though he had learned how to handle himself here from his father.

Pulling his pack out from the bramble thicket, Toa warily marched over to the others, trying to avoid getting stuck again. When he heard Tsulong's statement, he was quick to answer. "Why not burn the whole place down, fire master? Without this infernal wildlife, we could find our way around much quicker," he joked, though there was no indication that he was doing so.

Without another word, Toa dug his claws into the nearest tree he could, the claws sinking so deep that they left large gashes from which sap poured. He then dug his feet into the trunk of the tree as well, and began climbing his way up the tree vigorously. Avoiding branches and leaves, he eventually made it to the top of the overgrown thing, and gazed out. To his disappointment, he saw only the southern mountains, and mist. Mist as far as the eye could see, shrouding everything from view, even to his keen eye. "Damn it," he muttered.

Toa dug his claws into the tree again, but this time let his weight slide him down the side of it, with his lodged claws preventing him from falling too quickly. When he landed back down into the bramble thicket, he approached the group. "Nothing. Too much mist," he stated simply.

"Do any of you know where to go, or was it planned that we'd get lost?" Toa snapped.
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  #77    
Old June 30th, 2013, 05:25 PM
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Garet
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Roscoe the Leech
Duskwood

~~~~~

Now that they were about to go, Roscoe was silent as he waited for the others to be ready. For that matter, he was silently doing a few quick stretches as the time to leave came closer. When Guardian offered to carry bags, chests, and sacks, the Sceptile said, "Actually, I've got this pack of food here. I'd prefer to be able t' respond quickly, without it."

Roscoe hung on to his personal sack as they gathered around Durand and Reginard, then everything vanished for a moment.

~~~~~

"Uh," Tsulong uttered, "anybody know their way around? I hadn't anticipated this kind of... complexity..."

Wincing slightly at the noise and actions of the others, Roscoe looked at the surrounding forest, yellow eyes scanning for something. He began climbing up another tree moments after the Zoroark had, making his way to the top. Okay, there's the southern mountains...an' that there...alright, there's something. It didn't take long to get back down, just in time to hear the Zoroark speak. "Do any of you know where to go, or was it planned that we'd get lost?" Toa snapped.

"Would you keep quiet?" Roscoe retorted, striding to a plant that looked something like a Pokemon. Turning in a circle as he scanned the forest again, he nodded to himself and unslung his personal pack. "In fact, everyone keep quiet as possible. An' no lights, despite whatever reason you might have."

Pulling something out, Roscoe slung his pack back on before unrolling it in his claws. Anyone who could see well in the dark and looked over his shoulder would see a map.
Spoiler:


"'Kay, now if you all wouldn't do anythin' to attract attention," Roscoe announced, quickly rolling up the map once he'd mentally pinpointed their location, "we're headin' this way." He began walking in one direction, eyes trained for details and any disturbance that the heroes didn't cause.
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  #78    
Old July 1st, 2013, 03:21 AM
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Pierce the Cunning Shadow ~ Duskwood

Pierce didn't need to pack anything but decided to take a particularly big apple along just for the heck of it. He always found eating during trips or journeys satisfying. Once Durand had transported them all to Duskwood, the Shadow Pokemon was pleased to be shrouded in the chilly blanket of the night. His figure practically turning invisible, meshing with the shadows. However the Gengar's satisfaction with the area didn't seemed to be shared among the other heroes, as they seemed to almost immediately become disturbed and seemingly lost.

Just as Toa boldly stated his mind about their predicament, Roscoe then unveiled a map that would guide them toward their destination. The Gengar himself needed not light to see around them and found himself scanning their surroundings for anything to look out for as the group moved along. It occurred to Pierce that if they did run into either the Brotherhood or the Crimson Guard in the thick of night, the heroes would be at a disadvantage. He believed it to be am obvious factor but the Gengar decided to say something anyway. "I'm assuming you all can defend yourselves in the midst of these cramped and low visibility conditions correct?", he inquired to the group.
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  #79    
Old July 1st, 2013, 06:57 AM
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Xilfer
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Toa the Blackhearted Duke
Duskwood

As they walked, Toa approached the one known as Roscoe silently and swiftly. "If you ever talk to me like that again," Toa warned, "I'll have your head. Commoner." He then slunk back into the shadows of the forest, just in time for him to hear what Pierce had asked. As an answer, he stated, "Of course. I'm a master of darkness, I can see right through this place. The only problem is this cursed fog..." He walked closer to Pierce, intending on asking him a question he'd had in mind earlier. "Tell me, Pierce, what connection do you have to the Trade Prince?" He asked casually. "I noticed that he and you seem to have some history, and I don't trust him. Tell me everything you know."
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  #80    
Old July 1st, 2013, 08:29 AM
Ray Maverick
The Crimson Dawn is upon us
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Howland



As he stood in the predawn chill watching Rodrick butcher a rodent they had caught, Howland listened warily to the silence of the forest. Black smoke billowed in the air, marking their failed attempt to light a fire on the damp wood. The Pignite's hands moved deftly, his daggers removing the white pelt; the work had to be done quickly, before the scent of blood drew Mightyenas or worse things from the shadows.

"That'll do it. We'll have our bellies full once it's roasted," Rodrick said. He was like a shadow himself, too thin for a Pignite, though bone hard. Hunger had driven him half-mad, Howland could see. He himself fared much better. An aged Sceptile, hunger and the woes of live were not new to him. He was of lean build, with immense black circles under his eyes that made him look as if he hadn't slept for weeks; two deep gashes adorned each of his thighs. He guarded the secret of their origin better than his own eyes.

"We hunt in the wrong place," Howland observed sullenly, looking at the dark forest. Duskwood, they called it, and for a good reason. "This is not our territory, or have you forgotten? Even crossing these woods is unwise."

"The Brotherhood doesn't come round this way," Rodrick said, waving his thick hand in dismissal. Howland clutched the curvy scythehook on his belt all the same. He didn't share Rodrick's certainty; the Anonymous Brotherhod scoured all of Duskwood, claiming the region and defying the rule of Cyala. The forces of the citadel were unable to stop them, as their skirmishes crippled the great armies that hoped to meet them in open battle when they marched through the forest. But the Brotherhood knew the area too well and they had eyes everywhere... Howland had heard the villagers say even the birds had joined them. As for the travelers hoping to reach Cyala, they had best take the Golden Road to the north, around the forest. Wanderers were to be killed on sight, cold blood. He couldn't imagine what would happen to poachers.

Howland suddenly jerked around.

"Heard it?"

"Heard what, man? Might be it's only the wind that whistles through your empty head," Rodrick said and roared his laughter at his own joke. Howland was deaf to humor, though.

The branches of some nearby trees shook as Pidgeys flew away, terrified from the laughter. Below, the bushes rustled, something approaching. Howland considered his options. Charging in was too risky. Staying in place put him in danger of ranged attacks... he was ready to draw his dirk and decide then, when a Clefairy appeared. A Pokemon that could harm him not.

"Mary?!" Rodrick leaped to embrace her and Howland eased his hand away from his belt. "How's it that you're alive? We thought you lost."

Mary seemed to have been weeping. Hard. Their companion wasn't pretty, but she could sing well. That didn't help them in the forest in any other way than to attract enemies. Howland was reluctant on taking her with them, as she would only slow them down, but Rodrick had insisted. His fellow was too gallant to leave anyone behind in that village the Crimson Company had burnt to the ground. Howland had been there as well, where he befriended Rodrick; though he did not see how that friendship benefit him any. His foolishness and stubborn spirit were like to get them all killed.

Something was awry, though, Howland could feel it in his bones, weathered bones that were hardened by a hundred battles; his instincts were screaming. The little Clefairy sobbed and swept her tears away with the back of her hand, staring at the ground.

The shadows behind her moved and something thrummed from the trees. A bolt stuck through Rodrick's chest. His eyes opened wide in surprise and he clutched at the thing with both hands, before he fell backwards. Mary started screaming, stopping abruptly when another bolt emerged in her chest, drawing the breath and life out from her. Blood trickled down her belly as she fell. Howland drew his dirk and scythehook, vicious pieces of steel, and ducked stealthily, merging with the ground like a panther. He looked around warily, his heart thumping in his chest. The shadows melted, becoming the assailant that seemed to be one with them.

A Zangoose with a crossbow was standing in front of him; his malicious half-smile reached his terribly scarred left green eye. The fur on the side of his face was wild and unruly, spiky tufts of it shining even in the dusk of the predawn. He glanced quickly to the white pelt of the rodent Rodrick had skinned, then back at Howland, clutching his empty crossbow.

"Havin' fun, hunting in our forest as you are?" he rasped. He didn't sound the least bit of angry, only amused. "Your little friend here," he pointed a claw at the dead Clefairy, "led us to you. Kind of her, no?"

The Sceptile did not speak or move. He could attack, but he dared not. Crossbows could not fire two shots in such a short amount of time. There was a second crossbowman nearby, and Arceus knew how many shadows around him could also melt. He flipped his scythehook in his hand and remained into position. One, five, a dozen, a hundred if they were, he would still fight. He was afraid to die, as he felt he had left some things undone in his life, but if death was his fate, he would have it the way he had lived: by the blade.

The Zangoose walked past the burnt wood of their fire, boots crunching in wet ground, to stand over the carcass of the rodent that was steaming in the chill. He sheathed his crossbow behind his back, on a belt that was hanging across his chest, steam billowing hot from his mouth as he exhaled. Howland observed the Pokemon, judging him as an able fighter, maybe a Pokemon who could give him trouble; he was in his mid fifties, perhaps, just like Howland. Their eyes met.

He was grinning in amusement, mocking him as he spread his arms, leaned forward, gasped, then laughed.

"A fire, really? You thought you'd light a fire in our forest, and... we wouldn't see it? You think us blind?"

Howland gestured towards the Pignite without looking at him. His blood had become a pool underneath him. "His notion. To cross through here, to hunt, and to light a fire. I tried to talk him out of everything."

"Wait," the Zangoose said, holding his arms up. "You mean to tell me... you didn't want to be here?"

He considered his words for a few moments. "No," he replied finally, "I did not."

"But you belong here, my grassy friend," the killer with the crossbow rasped in his terrible voice, "you're a Pokemon of the forest, aren't you?"

Howland could feel being mocked, but the years when mockery could move him were long gone. He licked his lip.

"Do you know who I am," the Zangoose suddenly asked.

"No," he replied curtly.

"Lord Zeke the Ruthless," he said, just as curtly. "Or the Undying, as you will it."

Howland scowled, regarding him brooding. This is Zeke, he thought, the leader of the Anonymous Brotherhood himself. The world hasn't seen his face in so many years that they have forgotten what he looks like and what species he is. Zeke the Ruthless was said to raid villages around Duskwood, claiming the eggs of the folk and killing their newborn, but he believed it was only propaganda the Cyalans promoted to turn the Realm against the Brotherhood. Still, he did not look like a kind man. On top of that, he had come to be called the Undying by the Crimson Company, as it was said they had seen the very same Zangoose killed and risen again and again... but Howland was not a superstitious Pokemon, not even a religious one, who did not believe in miracles. The notion that came off as absurd to him was that this Zeke was a lord. "Lord Zeke? Lord of what?"

Zeke the Ruthless spread his arms once again, showing him the forest around. His green eyes were open wide, as if to say, it is quite obvious. "Duskwood. My home. Which you three intruded," he said, tilting his head and eyeing him menacingly. "This is our own Realm. And trespassers are committing a grave crime. You don't go 'round intruding the palaces of lords, do you? You saw what happens," he chuckled mercilessly. "Tell you what, though. I'm a kind man - no, don't listen to what they say. My ears tell me you don't lie when you say it wasn't your doing you ended up here. Chased off by these bloody mercenaries from that village, weren't you? You're an honest true man, I know."

"Aye, I am honest," he said, unable to figure out how Lord Zeke had pieced that out. "We were forced to run. They burnt and pillaged and killed... my friends claimed we would be safer under the cover of the trees."

Irritation flashed across Lord Zeke's face, his eyes shone in fury; it was a scary thing to behold. "Under the cover of the trees, it's us who take shelter. Not Cyalans, not Companions. Only us, and the wild Pokemon."

"I told them so," Howland said calmly, "I would have followed the Golden Road, but it is overrun with Cyalans. I never meant to intrude in your Realm. But there was never a choice to begin with."

"Well, we'll just let Arceus decide if you're as innocent as you sound. You're honest and true. An honest and true man believes in Arceus, that's known."

"It is known," Howland agreed, but then he grunted quietly and shook his head. If there is truly God, he is cruel, he thought sadly, I should know that first-hand, his eyes lowered to the gashes on his two thighs. He was ready to ask how Arceus would decide he was innocent, but Zeke motioned his hand, looking somewhere behind his shoulder. A massive shadow stepped into the light, standing a head above the Zangoose leader; it was a Nidoking, looking as hard and vicious as Zeke. Another Pokemon landed from a tree next to them, a Lucario whose fur was a dull grey instead of blue, a colorful crystal hanging down his neck. Soon, Pokemon kept appearing from the trees around him. He looked behind him, all around. He was surrounded. All of them looked tough Pokemon with angry, unforgiving faces. Everywhere he looked, the Anonymous Brotherhood was staring down at him.

"Let Arceus see the truth... if you had no part in the decision of you coming here, he will know it, and he will pardon you," the Lucario said in a gentle, soft voice that took Howland aback. He did not sound wild at all. On the contrary, he sounded like a man who has been through books and books. What is such a man doing amongst these savages?

"We'll give this honest and true man a trial," Lord Zeke announced, his voice echoing. "And Arceus will be the judge." Seeing the confounded look on Howland's face, he laughed. "Trial by combat," he explained, and Howland understood. He had to champion himself into a duel with another Pokemon who would be named his opponent by Lord Zeke.

"Who will it be, then?" he flipped his scythehook again, looking around, weighing the Pokemon of the forest. They all looked equally vicious. Lord Zeke patted the ribs of the Nidoking who was standing close, sending him forward into the mud puddles towards the Sceptile.

"Looks to me my brother Victor here's real eager to answer your call."

The massive Pokemon nodded and stepped forward, pumping his huge fists and gritting his teeth. Bells were hanging from his ears, producing a high sound every time he moved; Howland's eyes wandered all over the Pokemon's body, studying him. As a Sceptile, he stood a little bit taller, but his opponent was way more bulky, and his body was sturdy, covered with hazardous poisoned spikes he had best keep away from. Yet he wielded no other weapon. Speed is key here, Howland thought to himself, if he manages to poison me, time will work against me. He noticed an Ursaring leaning to Zeke's ear.

"What happens should he prevail?" he asked in a low voice, making the leader turn around, but the Lucario next to him replied for him before he could get to it.

"If that is Arceus's will, there must be a reason... for there always is."

"Small chance o' that," said another Pokemon which Howland could not see, "Victor's gonna pummel that punk to the ground. Haven't ye seen what he does to those Cyalans?"

The forest shook with the laughter of the company. Howland noticed this Victor did not so much as smile. He wasn't smiling either. One of them would lay dying in the dirt soon, it did not seem a fun matter to him.

"Joseph," Lord Zeke called out in his raspy voice, "get on with this, the boys are itching for some blood, heh."

The Lucario named Joseph walked into the mud puddles, between the two combatants. He removed the crystal that was hanging from his neck and lifted it high above his head. The shadows shattered as all the colors of the rainbow danced inside the crystal and onto everyone's faces. The priest started murmuring in a quick paced solemn voice. "Arceus. Look down to the earth and bear witness to this trial, find the truth in this man's soul, grant him life and freedom if he bodes us and our forest no ill will, grant him death if he is guilty of such." His voice echoed off the trees.

When the echo had died away, Joseph the priest lowered his crystal and departed in a haste, to regain his spot next to Lord Zeke, who leaned over and whispered something in his ear. The priest chuckled, his laugh sounding absurd after the holy manner the words he said carried. A wind blew through the trees, ringing the bells on the ears of the Nidoking. They stood on a good distance from each other, measuring and observing. He will bull rush, Howland decided, flipping his scythehook again in readiness.

"Fight," Lord Zeke commanded.

They circled around the mud puddles, their feet already soaked. Treacherous ground, to his advantage, Howland noted, seeing the Nidoking had no trouble sticking his heavy feet out of the mud.


Howland presented only his side to his opponent, crouching slightly so his eyes were just above his scythehook and at the same height with his opponent's. In Altica, he was known to fight like a panther, holding both his weapons as if they were parts of his arms. V
ictor swiveled forward, his claws meeting the curvy blade in a parry. Claws and steel rang together once, twice, testing. Howland backed off from the mud. Bells raging, Victor came after him, charging ferociously in an attempt to quickly overpower him, but the Sceptile nimbly jerked sideways, slashing past his shoulder with one of his leaf blades. It was no good. Victor turned to face him, unharmed, and pressed forward, trying a megahorn in a rush. He gave way, his face a stony mask of concentration, his eyes cold, never leaving his foe. The Nidoking charged again, but he leaped away, hopping on a moss-covered rock. He circled around him, awaiting the next charge, which came faster than the previous, head-first in another megahorn attack.

Howland's scythehook curved around the Nidoking's head horn and he pulled hard sideways to change his direction; as the Nidoking lost balance, his dirk slashed past his ribs. He grunted, stumbling splashing on the mud.

"Bloody bastard," he cursed under his breath, his huge arm brushing past the gash Howland's dirk had left on his side. Blood trickled on his thigh. His next charge came with such ferocity that caught Howland off guard. He was taken down in the ground, mud and blood filling his mouth. Excruciating pain boomed on his shoulder as he tumbled backwards, quickly regaining his balance. The Nidoking had fallen as well, but he was getting up quickly.

"Finish him, Victor," somebody called out from the crowd.

Howland cursed the God. His head ringing the same tune with his heartbeat, he stepped backwards, out of the mud.
He realized he would die from the poison on his shoulder, if not by the Nidoking himself. His foe came at him, the bells on his ears screaming; his last rush would have torn Howland in two... if he had not thrown his trump card. The ground beneath the Nidoking erupted and roots tangled his feet. Normally, his ultimate move would have drawn a recoil in his strength, but he had not managed to use it fully. In a desperate strength he thought he had lost, Howland swung his scythehook through his foe's large ear, hooking and flipping him sideways; the Nidoking fell on his back, spikes stuck on the ground.

The Sceptile was on him in a heartbeat. He stepped on one of his arms and locked the other in his scythehook, keeping it at bay to expose the bloodied chest. He drove his dirk through it with all his weight behind it, under the arm and through the ribs. Victor shuddered and lay still.

Silence hung over the forest. Howland took a step back from the corpse. His weapons left his hands, falling on the dirt, the roots withdrew in the ground. He fell on one knee, clutching his shoulder; his head throbbed just above the eye and blood clouded his vision. He could feel the poison running through his veins. This is how I die, then, Howland conceded. A grim, faint smile adorned his face, touched with the complaint and sadness, the feelings that best filled his life. A pity I never got the chance... to...

"Is it over, Lord Zeke?" somebody asked stupidly from the crowd.

Howland looked at Lord Zeke. The Zangoose's hard, green eyes regarded him in a grim manner, reflecting his own figure; his face was solemn and mature, all the ferocity and malice from before gone. Strangely, the leader of the Anonymous Brotherhood seemed not as wild or evil as he had originally thought. Why, he almost looks like my father. The insane thought came unbidden to him, with the last shard of his strength. But his father was neither a Zangoose nor alive.

"Aye," Lord Zeke said finally, "it's over." Then he patted Joseph, ever so softly, his eyes still fixed gravely on the Sceptile.

The Lucario walking towards him was the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes.
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Last edited by Ray Maverick; July 1st, 2013 at 09:03 AM.
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  #81    
Old July 1st, 2013, 08:41 AM
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Sir Bastian
Lean Mean Roleplaying Machine
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Vincent 'Vince' The Wanderer - Area 52

As the small group arrived in the dense forest, Vincent took a moment to glance around himself, raising up the scarf wrapped around his neck to cover up half of his face, as if he was afraid of breathing in the air or something along those lines. He stretched out while the others were trying to figure out where to go, and after a few moments of confusion and Toa and Roscoe climbing up two trees and down again, Roscoe seemed to point them in the right direction.

Vincent had gone quiet as he walked along, besides Roscoe, quietly agreeing with the fact that they should be keeping silent and try not to catch attention. The Brotherhood would probably soon know where they were either way, but at least like this, they’d seem smarter, and the Brotherhood would be a little more wary with approaching them.

Vincent glanced up at Roscoe as Toa more or less snuck up to his side and quietly muttered a threat out to the reptile, causing Vincent to roll his eyes slightly. As Toa backed off to go chat with Pierce, Vincent gave Roscoe a little nudge with his arm, glancing up at him.

“For a ‘duke’, he sure isn’t acting very dignified, is he?”

He gave a little grind behind the scarf covering up his mouth and nose, but it was clear from his look that Vincent was making a joke on behalf of Toa.

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When he suffers a disease? No.
When he eats a soup made out of a poisonous mushroom? No!
A man dies when he is forgotten.

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  #82    
Old July 1st, 2013, 04:34 PM
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Reginard Asphos

Reginard let out a weak sigh as the group teleported away and straight into the forest. The Alakazam kept his focus right on where they were. He would know this place... he had been through the forest many times. It had been some time ago, but he would still be able to find traces here and there of where he had gone. He still could remember, he had to remember. Tsulong bid them farewell and ported away, and instantly the group was speaking among each other.

The Zoroark was already finding something to be angry about, the Sceptile was taking control of the situation, the Gengar was doubtful of the others, and the Dewott's words would no doubt cause the Zoroark only to become enraged. Such a lovely group of younglings to be around.

"Yes... listen to the grass type. If we make one wrong move, too much attention will come upon us... the wild pokemon can be very territorial. You get too close and they will swarm you." Reginard sighed, "We should not argue, at this point any distractions could very well kill us. We have no idea where the company is and they don't know where we are. It should be kept that way."

He shook his head, "It is said the Brotherhood patrols the forest daily... they can be one with it. They are quite strange from what I hear. We do not want to attract them either."
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Old July 1st, 2013, 09:25 PM
Ray Maverick
The Crimson Dawn is upon us
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Tsulong


Tsulong observed Roscoe climbing up the tree swiftly. The Sceptile seemed to be navigating through the forest by noting down their direction. Looks like he knows his way around... guess I shouldn't be surprised. Toa then snapped, as if it was their fault they were lost, making him smirk in disturbance. Roscoe told him and everyone to be quiet, and not light any fires. Then, he unfolded a map... Tsulong took a closer look, realizing it was the map of Duskwood. Strange, Duskwood has been left unmapped by the Cyalans, the Arcanine thought, glancing suspiciously at Roscoe. How did he get such a map? Perhaps he made it himself...? No. That would mean he traveled through the entire forest.

Dismissing his thoughts, he followed Roscoe and Vincent closely as they started walking towards a direction. Like the Sceptile had said, they would need to be subtle, in order to not attract any attention, and Reginard agreed and tried to make peace with everyone. Some peace would be nice.

The unstable ground was proving to be annoying to him, although he could step over everything due to his size. If it came to battle here, his footing would be a problem, what with all the roots and plants. Though, it had rained recently, so the dampness would hinder his fire... then again, it would prevent him from setting the forest ablaze. That's why what Toa had suggested, even jokingly perhaps, was impossible; even the Paragon of Fire would have trouble burning the forest down at this state.

Pierce asked to make sure if they could defend themselves, if the time to do so arrived. Tsulong chuckled, "no problem. I've faced worse enemies than the Brotherhood." When he was a knight under the King's service, he was sent against the personal guard of Indrasil's lord, during their rebellion, which composed of the greatest knights of the riverlands. They still proved short compared to Cyala's power, though. That's why King Aion still ruled to this day, because the leader of the rebellion had died that day.

The Zoroark went off to Pierce, to inquire about the Trade Prince, but Tsulong lost interest as Guardian spoke, his voice sounding ominous in the dark forest.

"This one stands ready," Guardian agreed with Tsulong, "but he suggests not to underestimate the Anonymous Brotherhood." They fell quiet for a while, then, walking through the dense forest. Arceus's grace, this forest should be named a jungle, Tsulong thought to himself, frustrated.

Vincent nudged Roscoe and said, "for a ‘duke’, he sure isn’t acting very dignified, is he?"

He glanced at Toa who was going on ahead, along with Pierce. The Zoroark's behavior could be a problem to them all. "I can't decide if he's a fool, or he really believes what he says," Tsulong muttered, confessing his thoughts. "I'm not the kind to judge people, not until I get to know them fully, but this..."




***


It seemed as if they were walking for hours through the tangled forest. They had not met a single wild Pokemon yet. Perhaps they were all scared away by the Crimson Company's assault... but birds, they saw many. Looking down a small cliff, Tsulong saw many of them on the branches, sleeping. He also saw a pond amongst the trees, with a hill next to it.

"Look," he called out to the rest, "that ought to be Old Man's Rest, the pond on the map."

"This one does not mean to barge in," Guardian said as quietly as he could, "the dawn is near. The heroes should hide from the birds, who awake with the morning sun."

"I say we set up camp next to that hill over there," Tsulong suggested, "it'll keep us hidden well enough. I'm hungry, anyways, gotta have something to eat. Also, I want to hear what Pierce can tell us about the Trade Prince."

They walked over to the hill and the pond, settling down in a small circle. Tsulong took the position closer to the water, to look at his reflection, which broke when he drank. It was cold and crystal clear, fitting perfectly into the chilly dawn and the morning sun that was rising, high above the gaps the tall trees left for the sky. I should be feeling wary for the Brotherhood, yet I'm not. If we're not capable to take them on, we should not have set out on a quest to search for the Plates in the first place. With that thought, he felt assured and safe.

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Last edited by Ray Maverick; July 1st, 2013 at 10:05 PM.
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  #84    
Old July 2nd, 2013, 06:35 AM
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CourageHound
Trust & Courage. Nothing More
 
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Pierce the Cunning Shadow ~ Duskwood

Pierce took a bite of his apple and glanced back at the others. He wondered how long it would be before they all at least somewhat accept eachother's presence. Hopefully this little adventure would build on that.., he thought. Instead of concentrating on the others, the Gengar decided to tune out and moniter the surroundings. The moonlight laced across the moist vegetation creating shadows that seemed to dance to and fro as he drifted forward through the forest. Briefly the ghost type had forgotten the dangers that lurk within Duskwood and carried on with the group calmly. That was until Toa had approached him and Pierce descended back down to reality.

"Tell me, Pierce, what connection do you have to the Trade Prince?" He asked casually. "I noticed that he and you seem to have some history, and I don't trust him. Tell me everything you know."

Pierce took a moment to glance around the answered in a somewhat low voice. "Sure I'd be glad to as soon as we find a place to settle down. Its sort of a long story and it can wait until we're sure the brotherhood isn't on our tail, or rather wont be." Toa gave him a withering look, but all the same the Gengar was silent. After a moment he spoke again. "However, I do agree that Januario is very manipulative when it comes to money. But our common adversary is the King. We can at least be sure he'll be of some help...for now anyway.

***

After a while of traveling Pierce had gotten bored and started bouncing a tiny uncharged shadow ball between his palms. It was small enough to make only a very dim light. Somewhere along the line, the Gengar questioned himself if he should be rather keeping an eye out for the brotherhood. However he frown as he came to the realization that keeping lookout only to view shadows and sleeping birds was becoming tiring. When Tsulong called out to them, Pierce almost dropped the orb suprised, as the Shadow Pokemon wasnt paying attention to anything else.

"Look," he called out to the rest, "that ought to be Old Man's Rest, the pond on the map."

"I say we set up camp next to that hill over there," Tsulong suggested, "it'll keep us hidden well enough. I'm hungry, anyways, gotta have something to eat. Also, I want to hear what Pierce can tell us about the Trade Prince."

Once they reached the cover of the hill, Pierce then drank from the pond. He did so in a fasion using psychic that brought the water to him. All the more convient. After he was done, he grinned wide as he noticed the others waiting for him to share his history with the trade prince. Once Pierce had filled the gap in the circle of the heroes and cleared his throat.

"Well as you know, The Trade Pince is a powerful and accomplished businessman and very well known throughout Atlica. Just like pretty much every other Pokemon in the city, has traded or had a transaction with the Pikachu at some point. However a few years ago in particular was pretty significant. I had just finished making my way to Cyala from Skyhaven my usual preferred route of trade. I'm no slouch in trading and bargaining either. Well, anyway it just so happened that Januario was in town and doing a good job of attracting all the townspeople and doing business with them. I however didn't feel like trying to go through the masses of pokemon. Instead I approached the Trade Prince once he had send them all away for some time alone, the best setting of which to make a deal." Pierce grinned widely at his own cleverness. "However, I listened in on his conversation with himself before I approached him.

The Pikachu seemed somewhat distraught that none of the Cyala or Skyhaven residence had a light ball that he could seize. Light balls you see, are rare items that Pikachu have a great affinity with. That is when I offered to trade him. Of course at first he was very annoyed until I mentioned the possibility of getting him a light ball. Yes, that took a hold of his attention. Apparently desperate for the orb, I was able to have the Trade Prince agree to a very price to sell for. The only problem was...I didnt actually have the light ball on hand. I tell ya, he was mad but I offered to get him numerous light balls within a reasonable amount of time, and of course it may have very well been a once in a life time opportunity. In the end, Januario gave in gave me four days to come up with the light balls before he left Cyala."

Pierce shrugged and smirked as he continued on. "The irony of the situation is that he could have had them long ago. Some time before that day, I had recieved an old, damaged book from one of the the Trade Prince's merchants. He apperently had no interest in the book and therefor never even bothered to open it. Thing is, that book was apperently a lost heirloom from a family a of pokemon that once traveled to Hoolefar Island. It contained a map to the island, journals notes, etc.. Hoolefar is a largely unheard of and uncharted island containing dangerous jungles, and many wild pokemon including many Pikachus. Yes, I was sure if I could meet these Pikachus they could give me light balls to give to the Prince.

I hired the most reliable crew of pokemon I could find to help me sail oversee to Hoolefar. They were more than happy to assist my journey once they heard of the reward. They largely traveled together and were all experience at sea as well as owning a vessel. Well, soon after we arrived we were soon able to find the tribe of Pikachus. They weren't hostile any and were particularly generous of the light balls we requested. The Pikachus seemed to be somewhat intrigued by my presence as ghosts were an a very rare sight on the mainland of Hoolefar. However our celebration was cut short when we were met by the Jungle Alphas. Wild and vicious pokemon that lay claim to the jungles in Hoolefar and were far less receptive of guests than the Pikachus. They had captured two members of my crew hostage and refused to let us leave the island with the light balls in hand. The Jungle Alphas proposed a treacherous deal in order to achieve freedom. The beaches of Hoolefar had recently been haunted and overrun with ghosts. No one on the Island knew what they were or how to deal with them and as such, fishing was cut down drastically and many pokemon that had to cross the beaches were going hungry. Noticing that I was a ghost type myself, the leader of the Jungle alphas demanded that I rid them of their ghost problem and they would let us go."

Pierce took a moment to glance up at the dawn before finishing. "Sure enough, I handled their ghost issue in a timely manner. The Jungle Alphas being a bunch of Pokemon that had cherished honor and what not, let us go and we made it back to Cyala quickly. On arrival we delivered the Light Balls to the Trade prince and were rewarded rather handsomely. And I did give a share of the profit to the crew. Januario seemed pretty grateful for the many orbs he had attained. It was when were met at the meeting were he said he sold all but one for double the price and became all the richer. Light balls are said to greatly enhance the power overall of Pikachus. In fact...", Pierce thought for a moment. "I believe I kept one of my own stashed somewhere."
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  #85    
Old July 2nd, 2013, 04:37 PM
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Garet
GhostFire
 
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Location: ...And I Dance
Gender: Male
Roscoe
Duskwood

~~~~~

"If you ever talk to me like that again," Toa warned, "I'll have your head. Commoner."

Roscoe gave the Zoroark a sarcastic smirk just before he turned away, though most of his attention remained on navigating the forest. The Gengar asked if they could defend themselves in the present conditions. The Sceptile didn't bother answering; it was a <i>forest</i>, for crying out loud, he was in his element.

At Vincent's jab at the Zoroark, Roscoe grinned a bit. "I'd be mostly worried about him actin' outta line here," he muttered back. 'Duke'...hm... Oh, that duke. Only one Zoroark duke with that kind of coloring that Roscoe knew of.

Reginard shook his head, "It is said the Brotherhood patrols the forest daily... they can be one with it. They are quite strange from what I hear. We do not want to attract them either."

The Sceptile was silent after that, other than the few words in indicating a certain direction or muttering to himself as he'd stop to study something seemingly insignificant. If he'd seen anything to indicate immediate danger, Roscoe would have said so. At least none of the other heroes had mentioned anything about Roscoe's knowledge of Duskwood.

~~~~~

"Look," Tsulong called out to the rest, "that ought to be Old Man's Rest, the pond on the map."

Another wince. They really couldn't keep quiet, could they? Well, to be honest, the heroes weren't as noisy as other groups of Pokemon Roscoe could think of, but this group still seemed too loud, given the circumstances. Guardian was right, they did need to hide for the time-being. Before too long, they had settled in a small circle near the pond.

Even though he drank from the pond as well, Roscoe couldn't help but feel nervous. He was able to hide it, for the most part, and the story that Pierce told about him and the Trade Prince helped distract the Sceptile's mind for a bit. Hoolefar? Hm...I might've heard the name before. Not often, if I have.

As the Gengar finished, Roscoe looked again at the surrounding forest, then casually stood as he finished the piece of dried fruit he'd been munching on. "There's somethin' I need t' check on, b'fore we leave." Turning away, the Sceptile paused and turned back. "Don't try to go anywhere on your own." Roscoe then left the group, disappearing from their sight. He'd left his pack with the others.

It really wasn't that far to go now that they were at Old Man's Rest, but a short distance was enough for a Pokemon to get lost in. In a couple minutes, Roscoe was a few yards away from the other side of the hill. Nearby stood a tree that was bigger around than most of the surrounding trees, with a patch of land between some roots that was obscure, yet slightly more of a mound than the rest of the ground.

Crouching before the mound, Roscoe bowed his head for a minute with one claw on the ground. To an observer, it would have looked at first as if he was studying the ground before him. Indeed, there was another landmark to the side that Roscoe recognized and could move on from. After a minute of crouching in that position, the Sceptile stood and turned back toward the rest-stop. He hoped the Brotherhood wouldn't kill them off without a chance to speak.

As he came back to the group, the total time Roscoe had been gone was about three or four minutes. "Ready t' move on?" the Sceptile asked.
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Old July 3rd, 2013, 04:07 PM
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Greiger
A mad mind... hehe
 
Join Date: Sep 2011
Location: A water pond, duh!
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Nature: Serious
Reginard Asphos

Reginard followed along, simply listening to the others prattle here and there. He noticed that Roscoe wasn't that happy with the talking, and he could understand why. The brotherhood was said to hear everything that happened in the forest, every whisper and even every thought. It was mostly superstition and probably rumors just created to scare away intruders from the forest, but it showed just how much power the brotherhood really had. Roscoe was quick to head out, claiming that he had some business or such and Pierce began to lay down the story of some of his origins.

Reginard just closed his eyes tightly, feeling the wind around them, feeling the life of the forest with his psychic powers.

"It is said that Alaric was the first leader of the brotherhood." He said softly. "He led the Fenju thieves guild during their darkest hour. The guild was hunted and so they fled into this forest to take over as their own. They adopted a new name and they flourished for a while in here. Alaric succumbed to disease however and perished shortly there after... it is said that Old Man's Rest was his favorite place to lay down on at night and simply view the stars. To honor his passion the remains of his guild buried him on top of the hill, so that each and every night he would be able to see the stars. What many don't remember is that when Alaric fled from the city they took with them the greatest haul they managed to steal.. the grass plate.

With the plate in the forest the guild hid the plate and took entire control of the forest to protect it for all time." He sighed and glanced over at Roscoe as he returned, "Yes, I am ready."
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Old July 4th, 2013, 10:44 AM
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Sir Bastian
Lean Mean Roleplaying Machine
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Location: Denmark
Age: 24
Nature: Jolly
Vincent 'Vince' The Wanderer - Area 52

As the heroes pulled to a stop at small pond behind a hill to keep in cover as the various birds of the forest woke up and took to the skies, Vincent pulled down his scarf and leaned down to take a sip of the water like everyone else. Afterwards, he pulled the scarf back in place over his mouth and nose before taking a seat around the pond, dipping his feet into the water, followed by part of his legs, sighing out quietly.

He turned his attention to Pierce as he began telling his story about how he had gotten to know the Trade Prince whom Vincent had heard of and even seen before, but never actually spoken to. Vincent always enjoyed hearing stories. Be they filled with action and tense moments or calmer, more mellow stories, he always took great pleasure in hearing of what others had experienced in their life, and he leaned back onto his hands, staring up into the slowly brightening morning sky.

Peering off to the side, he watched Roscoe take off into the woods surrounding their little clearing before looking down at the water again, listening to Reginard’s tale of the leader of the Brotherhood, a rumor Vincent had heard as well. Roscoe definitely had great knowledge about the area. Both from the way he acted and the things he said. Vincent knew he was holding back on them, but he didn’t care. A man’s got his reasons to keep his past to himself and he wasn’t going to be one to pry, and soon enough, Roscoe returned, asking if they were all ready, to which Vincent nodded lightly.

“If we feel like the birds have taken off, yeah, I’m ready.”

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When he is hit by a bullet? No.
When he suffers a disease? No.
When he eats a soup made out of a poisonous mushroom? No!
A man dies when he is forgotten.

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Old July 4th, 2013, 03:16 PM
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Garet
GhostFire
 
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: ...And I Dance
Gender: Male
Roscoe
Duskwood

~~~~~

Looking in the distance, toward where he'd seen some of the birds perch, Roscoe tapped a claw against his chin before nodding. "Yeah, th' birds have taken off. We've had enough of a break for now, anyways." He glanced at the top of the hill again before slinging his pack on. "Cummon, time's a-tickin'." Once the rest of the group had gathered their things and were ready to go, Roscoe led the way out of Old Man's Rest, heading decidedly more west than north for the time being.

As they moved out, eventually turning north again, Roscoe was just as talkative now as he was before. In addition to keeping a watch for pointers and danger, part of the Sceptile's mind drifted back to a day when he was still a Grovyle with his mentor Phillip...

~~~~~

"Uh, why're you crouchin' like that? I don't see any grave here..." It all looked more or less the same to Roscoe: a larger-than-usual tree with a small clearing around it atop the hill.

"That's because you're not looking hard enough, kid. You see this mound here, where it's higher than the surrounding ground? And look, there's the brief words that were deemed enough of a mark." This Pokemon didn't seem to like Roscoe; the feeling was mutual.

"Oh, I see it now. 'Alaric, First Lord of the Brotherhood'. Why's it all hidden like this, though?"

"Where'd you find this kid, Phillip? Too many questions, not enough thinking."

A sigh. "Easy, Panic. They're not big on sentiment around here, Roscoe, nor do they care to advertise to others that they have a leader buried here. Alaric originally led the Fenju thieves' guild, before they were hunted and came to Duskwood."

"Oh..." A moment of silence. "This hill special to them or somethin'?"

"Yes, kid." Panic really was getting irritated. "Alaric liked watching the stars, see? One of the best places around to bury him. I wonder what he'd think of the Brotherhood nowadays..."

"What're you mutterin', Panic?"

"Like it's your business, Phillip. And don't you start talking in this folksy accent like the kid here. Come on, we need to get going. For future reference, kid, there's another landmark here to follow. Can't depend on the forest looking exactly the same ten years from now..."


~~~~~

At the head of the group, Roscoe stopped and held up a claw to stop the rest of the group. It had been some time and was now at least late morning. His eyes had swam with double vision, seeing both the present and the past appearance of the so-called crossroad, though it wasn't obvious to the others. "Wait, where is it?..."

Shaking his head for a moment, Roscoe took a step one way, eyes methodically searching the surroundings. He then stepped the other way a couple paces. "I know it's here somewhere..."
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Old July 7th, 2013, 11:40 PM
Ray Maverick
The Crimson Dawn is upon us
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Panic


A cozy fire was burning in the hearth, warming up the wooden house. In all its simplicity, the welcoming hearth of Woodshire's inn seemed alien to him. Panic didn't like easing up. He preferred the chilly, dark forest with its damp ground and overgrown plants - he could eat and digest almost anything from there, and still prefer it over the fancy food the innkeeper was serving him every time he went by. It wasn't for free, either, but the rules of diplomacy were forcing him to accept having dinner with him, else business wouldn't ever get done. And if this type of business didn't go right, Panic's lord would be most displeased. Being his steward, he had to take care of such tedious interactions with the grumpy, unwelcoming villagers. And the innkeeper was being difficult now more than ever.


He was looking at a Linoone of an age, with black circles under his eyes and a smirk. Panic thought it was fear he was seeing, mixed with disgust for him. Surely he thought a Swalot like Panic was likely to eat his whole winter stash if he kept paying for more. Panic himself would rather eat the innkeeper, if he was allowed to.


"Just pay the tax," Panic threatened, "and I'll leave you alone to whatever's you were doing."

"The rules've changed," the innkeeper replied cooly, "ain't nobody here who thinks you lot will protect us from the Companions. Eh, guys?"

The villagers of Woodshire gave a cheer. They had all gathered in the inn to attend to the event of Panic, coming to collect a third of their harvest and goods. That was the cost of living in the outskirts of Duskwood, without worrying attacks from the Anonymous Brotherhood - which, by contract, owed to protect the villagers from raids of other lesser thieving bands or even mercenaries. The Cyalans thought that that tax was paid in newborn toddlers, but Panic knew that was a propaganda scheme made up by the Trade Prince, to turn every lord in the Kingdom against them.


"The Brotherhood ain't worth **** no more," somebody shouted at him, "the King's coming to cut your heads off and put 'em on a spike."

"Aye! You're all as good as dead!"

Panic realized things were getting out of hand. "Jokes on you," he rasped, "haven't you heard the news, you stupid peasants? Rivershire's burnt to the ground. You think that was the Brotherhood's doing, you're dead wrong, friends. It was that Mantarys and his troops, killing and pillaging. The King's men. Fools! You're next! We're safe within the forest, while you stay here in your village, waiting to be slaughtered like Mareep!"

"But that can't be," said a Sunflora naively, "technically, we owe allegiance to Lord Cobwell of Westfall... the King's men won't hurt us. We're part of the Kingdom."

Panic headed to the door, grabbing its handle with one jelly hand. "Your allegiance belongs to Lord Zeke of Duskwood now, it's just that the King hasn't recognized him as a lord just yet. Mantarys knows that, and he's coming. Fine, you won't pay, you don't count on us to protect you, ya hear? If you won't be paying any of that protection tax, I'll be taking my leave. But be warned. We'll come ba--"

The door, along with the wall, were blown off by a sheer force that sent Panic flying to the other end of the room, knocking him out momentarily. It took him a few moments to open his eyes again and realize the inn had crumbled down and started burning. Screaming from all around filled his ears, fires licked the wood and the houses. Oh lord Arceus, Panic thought, trying to get up. Although whatever had blasted him off was powerful, he only felt a brief dizziness; due to this species, he was able to withstand powerful attacks that would otherwise hurt him bad on the spot. His Anonymous Brothers had made a punching bag out of him when he was younger and in a lesser rank. But to his pride, over all the sixty years of serving the Brotherhood, he had earned the highest rank besides the one of the Lord - he was one of the advisers. All the other advisers were probably dead by now, so only he was left to collect the tax, or guide the new recruits to the ways of the forest of Duskwood.

The moment he got up, a Pidgey landed on top of his head.

"Hurry," she screamed, frantically pecking his jelly forehead, "the village is under attack!"

"Aye, I have eyes too," he whined to the bird, slowly moving towards the forest. A sudden flash of fear made him stop. "Where's Lord Zeke?"

"He's leaving, you should, too. That monster, Mantarys is 'asking questions' again."



Ser Mantarys



"I love asking questions," he screamed sarcastically as he opened the door to the blacksmith's house of Woodshire. His black eyes locked on the Heatmor cowering by his anvil. Mantarys started laughing, gritting his teeth in a mixture of sick anger, headache and an overwhelming desire to kill. The blacksmith had his hammer raised, but it helped him little when the massive Krookodile charged in a frenzy, clamping the Pokemon up with his jaws. His claws found their way on its torso, killing him further. Killing him twice, if you would. Feeling his mouth burn, Mantarys ripped the Pokemon right open and threw him on the floor. Soon, he was spitting out the remains of the blacksmith. He grabbed his black hammer and smashed it against them. "****ing peasant," he spat blood and headed out.

Woodshire was overrun by the Crimson Company - sweat, blood and screaming. Oh, and fire. Just like Ser Mantarys liked it. He watched his troops with a smirk as they entered the houses of the pesky peasants, killing everyone and burning everything to the ground. One in particular had made an impression; a Reuniclus who had blasted half the inn off, where most of the villagers were gathered for some reason. The Reuniclus's name was Sigmund Schr
ödinger, a killing machine just like Mantarys, only he didn't belong to the Crimson Company. Ser Mantarys didn't know who this guy was, or why he was following them. He didn't care. He had gone mad for blood after facing the King's rage for that fiasco at the Sanctum. He almost lost his right arm.

Now, Ser Mantarys was supposed to be looking for the Anonymous Brotherhood - that pesky little weakling, the Trade Prince, said the villagers would know about them. Well, no Companion seemed
to be asking the questions they needed to ask, except that Sigmund who had so willingly offered to help with the Company's onslaught. Motherbloody Arceus, he asks questions before he kills, Mantarys thought while picking his bloodied teeth with his claw.

This very Reuniclus was now standing in front of him, with the inn of Woodshire burning behind him; he was looking at the Krookodile with a look of superiority that Mantarys didn't like and would gladly wipe off his little alien face.

"What? Do I have someone in my teeth?" the Krookodile rasped, then roared his laughter to the smoke filled skies.

"The Brotherhood," Sigmund reminded him, "you are searching for the Brotherhood. Have the decency to at least do as you are told."

"Or what? Nobody tells me what to do," he screamed at him. His saliva flew off to get stuck on the Reuniclus's gel, who repelled it with a small flick of his psychic power. Beneath his jelly body, his eyes were flashing bright blue with power.

"Do as you will, then. You will soon realize every action has its consequences."

"Get off'a here you preachy bastard, I don't need none of your fancy attitude."

That moment, a Purugly rushed to Mantarys with her stumpy legs sinking in the mud. Mantarys smirked, trying to recall if he had ever gotten intimate with her. "Ser Rys," she called out, "There's a group of the Brotherhood lurking by, a fat Swalot's led us to 'em..."

Sigmund was the first to head over to where she had gestured. "Good," Mantarys screamed in his shrill voice, rushing behind the Reuniclus, "the village was running out of peasants to kill! Hahaheh."



Tsulong


The Alakazam talked of a grave the Brotherhood had made of this hill, the grave of their first Lord, Alaric. Tsulong noticed Roscoe was nowhere to be seen; so he moved slightly out of the cover of the trees, to see him up the hill, kneeling under the single tree. Huh? What's he doing? He smirked in suspicion, observing the Sceptile for a second, but he quickly withdrew when Roscoe got up. When he came over, he asked if they were ready.

"Ready," Tsulong agreed with the others, not too loudly.

They started walking, mainly following Roscoe. Tsulong had his red eyes fixed on the Sceptile's back as they moved through the dense forest. He tripped twice over roots because he was constantly staring at Roscoe. What's he up to? He seems to know the way around... and he has that map. Where'd he get that? They all stopped, when Roscoe did, apparently looking for something around.

"We're not lost, are we?" Tsulong said worriedly and was about to saying something else, when Faolan put his furry hand on his snout to shush him.

"Quiet," the Fight Master told everyone in a hushed voice. He leaped off the ground, landing on one of the lowest branches of the trees; Tsulong tried to scan the forest for any signs of enemies. "They are near," Faolan said, "I can feel them."

Indeed, moments later, a hustle in the bushes shook them and Pokemon started pouring into a small clearing ahead of them. They were all breathing heavily, as if they were running; they had not noticed the heroes, so they kept up a conversation.

"Uh, we're lost," one of them cried, "we're lost, we're lost, we're lo--"

"Shut up, for the love of Arceus," another shouted back, with no fear of being heard by anybody. Tsulong's eyes brushed on the small group, who appeared to be bloody and hurt, as if they had just been through battle. One of them, a Zangoose with bright green eyes, had a strange device sheathed on a strap on his back; it was a crossbow, but it didn't have any bolts on.

"Thrice damn those Cyalans," the Zangoose was saying and glanced back, "I pray every night to Arceus... to bring Judgement for the crimes of this cursed Crown. Rivershire was first, Woodshire now... who's next, I ask? Us."

"No, no, don't think like that, milord..."

Milord? Did he just call him 'milord'? His curiosity overcame his reason then and he stepped forward to shout. "Hey, you! Who are you?"

The entire group of Pokemon jerked their heads to them, suddenly alert. The Zangoose gave Tsulong a bloodied smile; his eyes were scarred and the Pokemon seemed to be old beyond his fighting years. "Why, the Anonymous Brotherhood," he said loudly, "who else dwells in this forest but us?"

Someone from their group whispered something in the Zangoose's ear worriedly, but his hand swiveled in a backhand slap; he threw him a death stare, forcing him too look down in shame while rubbing his head. The Zangoose turned to them again, smiling in the same way. "Cyalans or not, doesn't matter what you are. You intrude on Duskwood... may Arceus judge you in our court of law. You will come with us to be tried by our brothers and sisters for the crime of trespassing... or we will force you to."

Tsulong glanced back at the others, studying their faces. "Force us?" he whispered, "they don't look like much, eh guys? We can take them. What'd you say? Fight or be tried?"

"Fight," Faolan said immediately, landing next to Tsulong softly without minding the Brotherhood who noticed him. "I would rather fight than be executed by those savages. I know what manner of trials these 'trials' are. Stealing berries results in death penalty. I highly doubt it will be any different for us 'intruders'."

"So, if we follow them, it's straight to the chopping block..." Tsulong muttered. "There's no fighting then. We'll be completely surrounded..."
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Last edited by Ray Maverick; July 8th, 2013 at 12:26 AM.
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Old July 10th, 2013, 08:44 AM
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Garet
GhostFire
 
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: ...And I Dance
Gender: Male
Roscoe
Duskwood

~~~~~

"We're not lost, are we?" Tsulong said worriedly. If Faolan hadn't cut off the Arcanine, Roscoe would have. He didn't have...whatever extra sense the Mienshao had, but a forest Pokemon could, generally, tell before the others if someone or something was coming from some distance away among the trees and vegetation. It was the same sort of 'sense' that had helped Roscoe find all the clues he'd been using in Duskwood thus far.

All the same, Roscoe let a quiet sigh loose as Pokemon poured into the small clearing ahead of them. "I was hopin' we'd avoid other Pokemon longer," he muttered to himself, staying at the head of the group. His head cocked slightly as the Pokemon ahead talked with each other. From the sound of it, Cyalans were indeed attacking locations within Duskwood, and 'us' he took to mean the Brotherhood.

Milord? Then Tsulong stepped forward and, overriding Roscoe's "No, don't--", said, "Hey, you! Who are you?"

"--address them," Roscoe grumbled, his claws lowering from having raised them a moment before. Now the Brotherhood knew of the trespassers, and the Zangoose, who was in charge of the group the heroes just met, said that they'd be tried, or forced to be tried. Tsulong asked the others - quietly, Roscoe was glad to hear - whether they'd fight or not. Faolan suggested they fight, as he seemed to have seen these trials.

"In case you haven't heard," Roscoe spoke, addressing Faolan and the others in his own quiet voice, "they take trespassing seriously, whether it's overkill or not." Did I just joke? Didn't mean to... "Cummon, all those Pokemon you've heard of trying to cross and are killed for enterin'?" Glancing back at the Brotherhood, the Sceptile continued. "An' I'd suggest not fightin', at least not yet. The Brotherhood aren't idiotic weaklings, not if they've held out this long. Also, that crossbow th' Zangoose has suggests that they don't stick to just their own attacks."

Giving each of the heroes a good look, especially Toa, Roscoe added, "Th' only reason we heard them comin' was 'cause they didn't know we were here. If we fight back, even if we were to get rid of this group, who's to say others won't come an' shoot us from outta sight? B'sides, their court of law may be near where th' Grass Plate is. If all else fails, we have someone who could teleport us out." He nodded at Reginard as he spoke the last words.
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Old July 10th, 2013, 02:18 PM
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Vincent 'Vince' The Wanderer - Duskwood

Vincent continued following the group, walking off to the side and at the middle of them, giving him a view of the rear, the right side of the group, and the very front, where Roscoe was walking. He came to a stop along with the others as Faolan seemed to have sensed something, Vincent feeling the entire group tensing up and preparing for what might not be coming, even if he seemed rather relaxed. However, as soon as the group of Pokémon walked through the bushes, seemingly ignorant of the heroes, Vincent looked as casual as ever, but his hand had snuck swiftly onto the ‘hilt’ of his shell, ready to draw it.

Tsulong took charge and asked who they were, making Vincent sigh softly into the scarf. So much for trying to tail them or… whatever Roscoe might’ve planned, since he seemed reluctant to call their attention as well, and it was clear pretty quickly that the group they faced were part of the Brotherhood. They were told they’d be brought in front of the Brotherhood and tried, and despite Faolan’s clear wish for violence, Vincent was unmoving in his opinion, seemingly thinking the same as Roscoe.

“We don’t fight, we follow them and at least see what this trial is. If we start killing them now, we’ll be forced to kill even more when, -if- we ever found their camp. I don’t think they’ll let us just teleport out of there… they probably have some way of stopping that, but firstly, it’s not a good idea to fight right now, and secondly… I don’t want to. They’re protecting their home. I don’t see anything wrong in that.”

He glanced up at the others after his statement, his mouth still covered by the scarf before ending his little glance at Roscoe, who clearly seemed to know what they were and should be doing in here the most of them all and Vincent was starting to respect him more and more.

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Old July 12th, 2013, 05:31 PM
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Pierce the Cunning Shadow ~ Duskwood

Pierce was rather silent for the rest of their walk. The Gengar didn't exactly mind following Roscoe, but it annoyed him that he was traveling blindly without a sense of direction within the forest. The Ghost would at least like to have been told what or where to look out for in terms of the landscape and the surroundings. Pierce was on the verge of questioning their position once the Sceptile started hesitated and looked about the area for something. However Tsulong beat him to it.

"We're not lost, are we?" The Arcanine seemed unfinished when Faolan put his furry hand on his snout to shush him.

"Quiet," the Fight Master told everyone in a hushed voice. He leaped off the ground, landing on one of the lowest branches of the trees; Tsulong tried to scan the forest for any signs of enemies. "They are near," Faolan said, "I can feel them."

Pierce's looked up confused when the Mienshao said "they". Could he possibly mean the brotherhood? If so they would need a tactical way to both approach and retrieve the plate from them, he thought. Then Pierce flinched and shook his head when Tsulong actually called out to the group of pokemon. He sighed when the Zangoose of the group blatantly ordered them so come along to be set on trial. It was to be expected as, they probably would have never been able to get the plate without encountering the Brotherhood, but all the same it was troublesome.

Tsulong glanced back at the others, studying their faces. "Force us?" he whispered, "they don't look like much, eh guys? We can take them. What'd you say? Fight or be tried?"

Vincet and Roscoe both agreed to go with them and be trialed. However Foalon opted to rather fight. Normally, Pierce would have fought seeing as not only were the pokemon in a small group but seemly wounded from a recent squabble. They had the advantage, however fighting would ruin their chances of possibly being taken to someplace at least near to the grass plate, as Roscoe mentioned. "Lets go with them to the place of this trial," he whispered. "If they cant understand our cause, if need be we can just eliminate them if we believe we can attain the plate. They don't exactly seem to be in top condition." He then looked to Tsulong. "Really my main concern is the plate."
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Old July 12th, 2013, 06:50 PM
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Reginard Asphos

To say that Reginard was calm and peaceful was far from the truth. In reality his headaches were coming back, harsher now. It was strange, now that he thought about those Mukrows that had fled earlier... his brain had just begun throbbing wildly. Such pain was unknown to him before, he barely had gotten headaches and was always confused as to why others would get them. He had assumed that in all of their cases such complaining of the pain was an overly dramatic reaction. He now understood why they would rub their heads in pain. He had managed so far to fight against rubbing his own temples, but that will was slowly slipping from his fingers as the throbbing became more and more painful.

It was because of his mental turmoil that the Arcanine caught him off guard with his wild antics. Tsulong had probably cost them a great advantage and it seemed Roscoe and Vincent had thought of the same things he was. With them now known to the brotherhood the group would now know how many of them existed and that they were part of a group. He rubbed at his forehead to quell his screaming headache without giving too much away to the others of his pain.

"Tsulong, have you not heard of thinking before speaking?" He asked the Arcanine with a strained voice. The pain from his headaches now being channeled right at the canine. "Next time use your brain." He muttered under his breath. He walked past the others to continue after the Brotherhood. "Might as well go ahead and hasten our end. Apparently Durand hasn't gotten you past your training yet." He said with a rather tense voice right at Tsulong. His brain spasmed again but this time he couldn't help but grunt in pain, shaking his head to clear his pain and continue walking.
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Old July 14th, 2013, 09:56 AM
Ray Maverick
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Tsulong


"Tsulong, have you not heard of thinking before speaking?" Reginard said in a worn out voice. Tsulong had already regretted shouting out to the Brotherhood and not proceeding more carefully, by the time Reginard made comments about it. He stared at the Alakazam's back as he headed off to join the other group of Pokemon, disturbed and with his pride wounded. I was sure that was the best way to confront the Brotherhood...

"So, what's it gonna be?" an Electabuzz shouted at them. He was wearing a leather belt around his gut, where he had hung four dark green spheres, devices unknown to Tsulong. His cheek was bleeding from the marks claws had left. "You coming with us or not?"

Tsulong spared a last glance around, making sure everyone agreed. He noticed Faolan was keeping a restrained face on as he studied the members of the Brotherhood one by one. Let's hope Faolan is wrong about the Brotherhood, and that we're not walking to our deaths. If that was the case, he knew not he, neither Faolan, would go down without a fight.

When the heroes joined with the Anonymous Brothers, things were quite tense as each group was measuring the other. The Zangoose, who appeared to be their leader, looked to realize he was dealing with Pokemon that could be proven dangerous. Tsulong, in turn, followed Faolan's example and studied the Zangoose while keeping his distance. He wanted to determine how much of a fight he would put up if things ever came to that. He looks rather old, he noted, that crossbow he has is useless without bolts, not to mention it takes forever to load. And that wound on his gut... the traditional mark the Zangooses have on their bellies, resembling the letter M, wasn't visible on this gut, as the fur was bloodied and hairless. It was a freakishly big, terrible, deep wound that seemed to have healed over time.

Judging by my experience, that wound should have killed him... or at least, cripple him. Strange... "Isn't that a mortal wound?" Tsulong asked him. The Zangoose ignored him completely, turning the other way. There was another wound, of the same size and shape, on his lower back, semi hidden behind his massive furry tail. What... the two wounds seemed to align, as if something had pierced through his body and came out from his back.

There wasn't any time to ponder on that puzzle; the Zangoose dropped on his four and gestured his head at his men, who spread thinly on the bushes and ducked, proceeding stealthily through the forest. Some even jumped on the branches and made their way jumping from tree to tree. In the front, the Zangoose and the Electabuzz with the spheres on his belt were leading.

"We're headed north," the Electabuzz said. "You keep quiet as we walk, unless you have a deathwish. We scout ahead, you follow. Simple enough for you, eh?"

The clouds had descended from the sky, onto the forest. The mist was getting thicker and thicker as they walked, and the forest damper. The ground begun being slippery, and the fat trunks of the aged trees started shining. The chill of dawn had passed, but the plants and the ground were still wet. The color of the sky on the gap their leaves left above their heads didn't give off the feeling that it was noon; more like late afternoon, when the sun was about to set. Dammit, Tsulong cussed under his breath. He hated the dampness already; and now he understood why the forest was such a challenge to the Kingdom. While King Aion could burn down the forests of the Uplands, he could not burn Duskwood. Though the Zangoose mentioned something about Rivershire and Woodshire, the villages around the forest... the Cyalans would have gotten to them, in search of the Brotherhood. And the Brotherhood happened to be nearby... that's why they're all battered and bloody, and they seem to have lost many of their own. Indeed, a Pokemon from their group was crying quietly; perhaps it was a family member of his he lost. This Pokemon are not evil, Tsulong came to realize, even though they look vicious. They have to be, in order to survive.

"You were running from Cyalans," he said, as quietly as possible, "how many of them were there, exactly?"

"Don't know," the Electabuzz answered, "din't bother counting. Lots and lots, you can be sure."

"We should be on our guard... they might be nearby."

"We'd hear them from a mile away, lad," the Zangoose said, "we listen to the ground. Their feet cause it to shake."

One of their scouts, an Ambipom, just landed in front of the group from a branch. The dusk of the forest shaded his face in a dark blue hue; worry was written all over it. "They're coming," he muttered in fear.

They all stopped put and the members of the Brotherhood kneeled low, to put their ears on their ground. Tsulong could hear it, too. Many, many feet. He watched as the Zangoose got up on his feet, his face a hard, emotionless mask; he brought his claws on his mouth and whistled. A long moment passed, with the members of the Brotherhood looking up expectantly for something. Suddenly, two shadows dove straight down from the clouds. They were two Pidoves that started chattering as soon as they landed onto the Zangoose's head and arm, repeating the same word over and over again. Ambush.

"Indeed," a raspy voice came from behind them, then a scream rose to the skies.


Ser Mantarys

Ser Mantarys and a few of his most able men fell onto them like a train, having emerged from the trapholes in the ground they had dug. Look who it is, he rasped in his mind as his eyes slid past the heroes. He didn't care of the heroes. He would let his men take care of them; it was that Zangoose that had gotten his full attention. That same Zangoose, with the wound on his gut, there was no mistaking he had been in Woodshire. Having his eyes locked on him, Mantarys hissed, "I'll fix you good, you miserable rodent." He took him down and they rolled in the damp ground, eventually smashing against a big root that was protruding. They were both launched to other directions, but they regained their balance immediately, to face each other. Mantarys could tell his opponent was not your average Pokemon; his cold green eyes only told him so. There was a determination, a defiance he was not seeing in other opponents. Not everyone facing a six feet Krookodile could be relaxed and focused.

Might be that's the leader of the Brotherhood, for all we know. Sneaky bastard, I'll carve you to pieces and eat your heart. They clashed furiously, each unleashing a barrage of slashes and cuts. The Zangoose was faster and managed to dodge most of his hits, but Mantarys was stronger. While he shrugged off the wounds he received from his foe's claws as petty, the slightest misstep in this deadly waltz of razors would get the smaller Pokemon killed. As for the others, they were fools for not running away while they still could.
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Old July 17th, 2013, 07:17 AM
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Garet
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Roscoe
Duskwood

~~~~~

The majority of the heroes agreed to go with the Brotherhood, and Roscoe had nodded in agreement with Vincent about the Brotherhood protecting their home. Reginard, on the other hand, sounded almost as if they were doing something suicidal with that "hasten our end" comment. It worried the Sceptile a little that Toa hadn't said anything so far on whether to fight or go with; the Zoroark could have been planning something stupid for all Roscoe knew.

As the two groups joined, Roscoe glanced first at the spheres hanging from the Electabuzz's belt, then at the Zangoose's wound. He said nothing as the Pokemon began to move out; the Sceptile took a place to the front and right of the heroes, not quite with either group. Roscoe's movement was similar to that of the Brotherhood, slinking through the trees and vegetation without a problem and very little noise. He felt at home in forests; the only reason Roscoe remained more or less visible to the others was because he was sure the Brotherhood wouldn't take kindly to one of the trespassers disappearing.

The only immediate worry Roscoe had was when the Ambipom appeared and warned them. The Sceptile crouched lower until he was hardly visible, save for his seeds that were beginning to gather sunlight in preparation for battle. It was inevitable that there would be fighting within minutes: the heroes and the Cyalans opposed each other, and the Brotherhood disliked trespassers very much. And that was aside from the Cyalans' latest actions.

Ambush.

He wasn't sure where the scream came from. Roscoe was too occupied to wonder at the moment, as an Excadrill popped out of the ground and Slashed at him. The Sceptile dodged to one side, taking the Slash to his side instead of his torso where it would have been more fatal, and released the SolarBeam. The Excadrill brought its axe-like claws up in a Protect, taking a few steps back to make a bit of room. While it then Honed its Claws, Roscoe dashed forward and past the Excadrill, dragging a claw along its side as he passed.

Turning to strike at the Sceptile with another Slash, the Excadrill found empty air and feeling a bit weaker. With a quick, underpowered Giga Drain, Roscoe had disappeared into the trees, leaving the Excadrill waiting for the next move. A few seconds later, the Sceptile dropped out of a tree, falling onto the Excadrill from directly above with both Leaf Blades extended, slicing into its back. Growling in pain, the Excadrill shrugged Roscoe off, but he was already leaping away and slicing forward again.
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Old July 19th, 2013, 02:04 PM
Ray Maverick
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The Trade Prince




Her soft fur was shining in the moonlight. It was a thing to cherish, but he had told her way too many times to tell her again. He shifted his little body on the feather mattress, to look the Mienshao straight in her red eyes. Sneaky, treacherous eyes full of mischief, just the way he liked them; this girl knew how to make him money.

"My Prince," she said, smiling and stroking his head. "I just had the sweetest dream."

"I promise you, it's not a dream." It is real, all of it... the war, the intrigues, the bloody game of power the King plays... and me, the stumpy, harmless Pikachu in the middle of it... me, the one they scorn and laugh at. He laughed out loud. Best they stay in the dark... And, he had a girl. She saw his face change.

"Is something concerning you?" Alysanne asked him sweetly. He liked her.
Alysanne liked him too, he could see that, though she would rather he was a Raichu, and not a little Pikachu. Nevertheless, she cared about him. Or at least pretended to, which he liked. No Trade Prince ever had friends. Only lovers, perhaps. And those, he paid in gold; Alysanne had to be the most well paid courtesan in all of Altica, Januario had made sure of that. He was most generous to his associates.

Januario smirked at her question and brushed the fur on the side of his head, looking up at the starry sky. They were on the roof of Mistwatch Keep, bathing in the night. The lord of Westfall, Lord Cobwell, had welcomed the Cyalans reluctantly, in fear, and rightfully so. As soon as the Cyalans set foot inside his Keep, Lord Cobwell was thrown in his own dungeons, by order of the King, to be tortured until he revealed everything he knew of the Anonymous Brotherhood.
Now, that's no way to treat a lord, Januario was musing, but that's what anyone gets in this kingdom for treason... one word from the wrong person to the King, and swoop! You're down in the dark, with Edward mind****ing you with his tricks, and trying to get an answer out of you. And that wrong person was none other than Januario. His associate had informed him of Lord Cobwell's loyalty... oh, he was most loyal. Not to Aion, but to the Brotherhood. They had made a cold alliance, it would seem, and now his associate was out on the field to know the terms of it. And while his associate was with the Company, asking questions, and Lord Cobwell was getting his brain rotted down in his own dungeon, Januario claimed the roof of the Keep, so Alysanne could feed him lollipops and grapes. And some thought life was easy for Januario; it was not.

"There's always something to be concerned of, if you're me."

She shrugged, shuffling her mouth. "Your plans always work. You shouldn't worry about anything."

"... things go well, here in Duskwood, but in Skyhaven... if things do not come around, the council will hand the Sky Plate to Aion." His black eyes reflecting the stars, he smiled in amusement, as if this was some riddle that needed to be solved. "Which, of course, will be a catastrophe for us." By us, he meant the Cartel. "Without its Plate, they should rename Skyhaven to Haven," he said sarcastically.

But Alysanne seemed not a bit worried. "So? Let King Aion have the Plate, my Prince. It's useless to us."

That is where you are wrong, Januario thought. If Skyhaven had the plate removed, the city's influence would drop significantly - which is what King Aion desired, Januario had figured out. That would be a great blow to its economy. And a great blow to the Trade Prince, who owned more than half of the established trades within the city's walls. But Alysanne did not possess the insight to comprehend with that, so he did not give voice to his thoughts.
She was his courtesan, the person he would love, not the person he would discuss political matters with. He had another associate he would do that with... who had just returned to Mistwatch Keep from the fields.He rubbed his hands, as he saw the familiar form of the levitating Reuniclus fly up the stairs to the roof of the keep. Let's see what goodies my Associate has found out about the Brotherhood.

"Sigmund," Alysanne said, using a voice that dripped of sarcasm, "what took you so long?"

The look the Reuniclus gave her belonged to a killer who was not impressed. Januario was impressed by his Associate. That frown of his alien face was enough to scare children away; his manners were restrained, though, and his discipline as a mercenary/bodyguard/chauffeur unmatched. That's why Januario had hired him. Sigmund had an obsession for doing exactly what he was told, and so far, over all these years, he had not failed his Client a single time. As proof of his loyalty, Januario had asked him to perform the most terrible crimes he could think of... secretly, he regretted asking him, but he seemed not to. He just did what was told.
Sometimes, Januario wondered what he would do if he asked him to kill the King. He smiled. Sigmund wouldn't bat an eye, he bet.

"Sig," he called out from his feather bed, "what news? Did you ask these questions?" Where is the Brotherhood?

"I did, Mantarys did not. Such an unprofessional miscreant, it makes me sorry for his pay."

"Couldn't agree more."

"Onto my report.
I learned why Lord Cobwell and Westfall are loyal to the Brotherhood; they are holding his daughter hostage for years now, and are threatening to kill her if he defies them. Furthermore, Woodshire had the same fate as Rivershire. Nothing is standing still. Both villages were paying a protection tax to the Brotherhood, which we fought in Woodshire. I knocked out some of them, carried them away into the forest and made sure they escaped Mantarys. I followed them. They led me to the Brotherhood's nest. They call it 'the Forest's Heart'."

Januario clapped his hands excitedly. "Masterfully done!"

"If he gets a bonus, I want one too," Alysanne said, snappishly. Januario stroked her forehead, without looking at her.

"Fetch me some more grapes, my sweet, and there will be one. Make sure to get them. I don't care if you'll have to walk to Skyhaven to get them."


"Aww, why?" she cooed, still abed, "I was hoping--"

"I was hoping, too. Perhaps later. I wish to be alone for the present."

Once she was gone, Sigmund took her place on the feather bed, next to the Trade Prince, so their eyes were at the same level. There was some kind of tension in Sigmund's face that Januario knew well; something was messing with the Reuniclus's obsession of doing things perfectly. Finally, he could talk about politics with someone.

"Is there something you're not telling me, Sig?"

"It is impossible to find the Forest's Heart again, Client. The forest is a maze, and the mists obscure my sight."

Januario rubbed his chin, thinking. "No wonder they call this Mistwatch Keep. All you see from up here is the mists!" And he was kind of irritated about that, now that he was thinking about it. Perhaps he would sue the bird Pokemon of the forest for not taking care of the fog, he could bind them to the Pidgey Mail services, with that many Pidgeys, he would outmatch any Pidgey Mail opposition from the Cartel... there, mind is drifting again. "In any case, that should not be much of a problem. Once the Company have made camp here in Westfall, they'll just huck it. The Brotherhood will soon be out of the picture, and I will finally be able to trade to Cyala freely. You understand, that will make my incomes skyrocket, and subsequently, your income." When money was the only way to make people loyal, Januario was sure to be generous. Although Sigmund didn't seem to be motivated by gold alone...

Sigmund nodded briefly, without any feelings showing on his stony face. "And what of the Grass Plate? I take it you do not care on whose hands it will fall?"

The little Pikachu shrugged indifferently, with a bored look. "Let Aion have it, for all the good it'll do him. Scarcely any, if you ask me. Unless he wants to grow monster plants in his garden."

And the Reuniclus did not laugh, as he wasn't one for humor. He seemed skeptical. "These 'heroes'... is it not for the best of us, to ensure they acquire it?"

"There are alot of factors to take into account here. Either way it goes, I will cope. I am nothing if not adaptive and resourceful."

"Indeed," Sigmund agreed.
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Old July 21st, 2013, 07:08 AM
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Vincent 'Vince' The Wanderer - Duskwood

Vincent was happy that they all agreed to following the Brotherhood quietly and taking the trials as they came. The group started walking in near-silence and despite having agreed to walk with them peacefully, Vincent couldn’t help but rest his right hand on top of the shell resting on his thigh. He walked slightly off to the side of the group, listening to the other Pokémon and Tsulong speaking together while still keeping a track of what was going on around them.

It didn’t last long, however, as suddenly, an Aipom came out of the trees and seemingly warned the group along with a pair of Pidoves. The next momentm, everything exploded into chaos as Mantarys’ raspy voice rang out across the small clearing and several Pokémon started screaming. Vincent only just managed to pull his shell free before a sharp but still slightly deep voice growled out behind him. “Too slow!” And the next moment, a sharp pain ran through Vincent’s spine as a Gurrdurr slammed his steel girder into him, sending Vincent flying for a few feet before crashing into a nearby tree.

The Dewott winced, the scarf still in place over his mouth and nose and managed to quickly get to his feet and draw his other shell before the Gurrdurr was over him again, swinging the massive weapon at him. Vincent only barely managed to duck down under it and then leap off to the side as he swung it again, slamming it against the ground where he had just been standing, creating quite a dent.

“So, you’re one of the ‘heroes’, huh? Mantarys told us that there’s a bounty for whoever manages to take down one of you guys, and I’m planning on one of those guys being –YOU-!” The Pokémon snarled and swung the weapon again, though this time, Vincent managed to use his shells to parry the attack, which sent him skidding a bit of the way.

“… I don’t think you know me very well. But if you want to challenge me, by all means, have your fun.”

“I’ll have more than that! I’ll have your HEAD!” With another grunt of swinging the massive weapon, the Pokémon swiftly moved closer to Vincent who decided to only graze the steel with his shells, causing the weapon to shift it’s trajectory, rather than outright blocking it, and several blows went past with Vincent doing nothing but pushing the Gurrdurr’s weapon off to the side, much to his annoyance.

He Gurrdurr growled. “Damnit, stand still! You won’t win by dodging all the time!” He then swung his girder vertically into the ground, causing two large rocks to pop out of it, and he proceeded to slam the girder against each of them, sending them flying at Vincent. The first one, he ducked under and as the second propelled towards him, he pulled his right arm back and raised his left, which shot a burst of water out of the ground, hitting the head-sized rock head-on and after a moment of the elements battling, the water managed to add enough pressure to send the rock flying back at the Gurrdurr, which took the rock straight to the face, stumbling back while roaring in anger.

“You’ll pay for that!”
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When does a man die?
When he is hit by a bullet? No.
When he suffers a disease? No.
When he eats a soup made out of a poisonous mushroom? No!
A man dies when he is forgotten.

~Hiluluk
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Old July 21st, 2013, 10:56 AM
Ray Maverick
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Faolan


The world had turned blue black, hostile auras bristling from the trees. He felt them, before he saw them jumping out of the darkness - Pokemon with black bands strapped and carrying all sorts of weapons.Too many. Just as I had thought. With the edge of his sight, he noticed that the Zangoose leader of the group had been taken down by that Krookodile; in truth, he did not care if the Brotherhood members all died right here and now. If they were responsible for all the crimes the Crown was accusing them of, Faolan had not seen evidence and thus was not convinced of their guilt. Yet, the accusations still existed, and neither their innocence had been proved. In his sense, Faolan considered the Brotherhood expendable, as it did not fall for him to judge them, for he did not know the whole truth. The Companions were attacking the heroes as well, though, so Faolan was inclined to serve them death.

Faolan the Wicked inhaled, straining his limbs in a Sword Dance, analyzing the situation at hand calmly. Rhyperior. Heavy weight, blades strapped on his hand. Slow in close combat, but powerful. Prone to my attacks, he looked to the right, to a Pinsir, or not. Pinsir. Capable only in melee, but with low health, aware of the pinchers - I can kill him instantly. No, that leaves me vulnerable to attacks. Next to the Pinsir, there was a Breloom. Breloom. No special advantages against me, dangerous up close, like me. Knows Mach Punch and Seed Bomb.

In a split second, his battle plan had already been formed. Faolan exhaled and leaped off the ground to avoid the Breloom, who was the fastest, landing next to the Pinsir and swiveling past him, whipping his face and making him stumble backwards. Faolan did not kill him; he instead faced the Rhyperior, who had already raised his massive arm to land it on the Mienshao, but he wasn't there. The arm with the blades came crushing down on the ground, in time for Faolan to release a supercharged Aura Sphere right on the Pokemon's chest. The blow caused a terrible sound of rock cracking and made the Rhyperior roar in pain and stagger.

Faolan inhaled. Step to the left, fluidly leap off the terrain, an explosion blew dirt and mud from the ground underneath him. He landed feet-first on the shoulders of the Breloom, locking his feet around his foe's neck and rotating his body's weight swiftly. The Breloom swirled round and fell with him, dazed. Faolan struck him between the eyes in a Drain Punch, breaking his skull without a single drop of blood staining his fur. He exhaled, knowing what followed. Detect. He swiveled around, the whip-like fur of his right arm deflecting the incoming pinchers harmlessly. His left arm caught the Pokemon's fat throat and blasted him off with a blue flash of aura.

Five seconds, three adversaries. He had done better.


Tsulong & Vincent



Tsulong snarled, seeing the Pokemon of the Crimson Company attack them from the shadows, all around them... He noticed some popping out of the ground. They were hiding underground! He felt his heartbeat quickening and the blood pump his feet, anger rising and flaring in his nostrils when he spotted Mantarys. Vincent was dealing with a Gurrdurr when he took notice of them. In a rallying cry, he tackled the Gurrdurr's side, taking him down easily with his size. He roared his fury in his face, and his breath was about to become fire, when something violently cast him aside. Rolling onto the unstable ground, dazed, he realized he was hit by a Camerupt, who was laying dead next to him.

"Out of my way," Mantarys was screaming as he fought ferociously with the Zangoose, trading and dodging blows faster than the eye could see.

Meanwhile, Vincent, having stumbled back after Tsulong's vivious attack on the Gurrdurr, who seemed rather surprised at the attack dashed forwards towards his foe. The Gurrdurr was now readying himself to strike against the downed Tsulong. Just before swinging the girder, he looked to the side to see the blur of Vincent dashing up straight in front of him, the shell in his left hand inches from his neck as he mumbled "Too slow." and in the next moment, the shell sliced through the Gurrdurr's skin, causing the Pokémon to cough and wheeze in pain as he fell over, the heavy girder falling next to him.

Vincent turned to Tsulong, his mouth still covered by the scarf as he nodded his thanks. "Much appreciated." came his voice from behind the scarf. Tsulong nodded, his eyes fixed on Mantarys and the Zangoose, despite the hell that was going on all around them.

"You're Zeke," the Krookodile shouted at his opponent, as he tried a slash, which was parried by the Zangoose's claws. "Fancy yourself a Lord now, don't you?"

Zeke? Zeke the Ruthless? Tsulong was left wondering for a moment. He remembered Durand saying Zeke hadn't been seen in so many years, nobody knew what he looked like or what species he was any more. But if he was that Zangoose, it would all make sense. The members of his team showed him proper respect, so it had to be him. But he was no Lord. Either way it went, the heroes and the Brotherhood had a common enemy now: Mantarys and his Company.

"Vince, let's help Zeke out... if we save him, we'll be tight with the Brotherhood!"

"Maybe not tight, but I'm sure he'll appreciate the gesture."
Vincent joked.

Tsulong's mane was engulfed in flames as he said that. He left a fiery trail behind him as he charged full speed at the Crimson Captain, who was seemingly too focused on Zeke to see him... until he turned around, his black eyes locked on Tsulong, who was being shot at him like a bullet.

"Welcome," Mantarys grunted, sidestepping and slashing at him. He was fast, but he didn't manage to hurt Tsulong, who turned direction as soon as his feet touched the ground, launching himself at the Captain once again. The Krookodile swirled around in an iron tail, the force of the impact shaking Tsulong; his flames didn't seem to hurt Mantarys's tough skin.

Vincent had his hand raised, another blast of water shooting from the ground thanks to the moist soil of the earth. Vincent lept onto the shot of water and as Mantarys and Tsulong clashed, seemingly both of them coming to a stop, Vincent lept off of the water pulse, which collided harmlessly against the ground, causing him to fly over Tsulong, straight at the Captain.

With his right and left arm pulled back towards his right, he used the momentum to slice his shells towards the Captain's face in a diagonal manner, his eyes locked squarely onto Mantarys'... the shells pierced his snout and the Captain screamed in pain, grabbing Vince forcefully before he landed. T
he Dewott cringed behind the scarf, raising his right arm to prepare to slice the shell across the Captain's claws, but too little, too late. He was thrown, flying across the battlefield.

The Krookodile's
eyes were blazing with fury and his face shining with blood from the gashes. He felt Lord Zeke coming, so he swung around to grab his arm and twist it, forcing him to fall on the ground.

"You're dead," Mantarys screamed at the Zangoose, leaning close to his face, ready to bite his head off.

"Arceus is by my side," Lord Zeke whispered with a bloodied jaw. His fur was stained with countless cuts and wounds Mantarys had dealt him, but he hadn't yielded yet. At the crucial moment of the execution, Tsulong had opened his mouth to unleash a roaring stream of fire that made Mantarys raise his hands to protect his face. Lord Zeke launched himself off the ground and slashed at the Krookodile in an X-scissor, while he was still staggered in the flames. There was no more screaming, for a second, until Tsulong lost his breath and the flames subsided.

Mantarys was standing, his face and his gut monstrously burned and scarred.
Meanwhile, Vincent had managed to twist around mid-flight, just before hitting a tree, which he slammed into, feet-first. He dropped to the ground and rushed forwards, ducking and avoiding the flailing attacks of both enemies and allies, nearly getting both burned, frozen and electrocuted on his way towards the three other fighters.

Mantarys seemed groggy after the furious flames Tsulong had burned him with as well as Zeke's heavy attacks on him, Vincent pulled his arm back, his shell glowing a firm white before thrusting it forwards, an ice beam shot along the ground towards Mantarys and between his legs. Vincent lept onto the ice and sped forwards, gliding towards the Krookodile as he held his shells up in front of him in an X-pose and once reaching him, he bent backwards while pulling through with his attack, slicing across Mantarys' belly while sliding beneath the massive Pokémon at high speed, hoping to dodge whatever he might throw at him.


...



...


A shockwave shook the earth, making the ground crack in a terrible sound. Rocks and debris were sent flying everywhere as every Pokemon on the area was knocked off their feet from the powerful earthquake Mantarys had unleashed. Tsulong had been buried under a tree and some rocks. He was breathing heavily, but not normally as his back was squeezed down. He half shut his eyes in attempt to see through the dust. His own safety didn't concern him as much as that of the other heroes, although he was hurt and immobilized. I didn't know Mantarys could use earthquake, he thought tiredly, desperately looking for Vince in the field of destruction the Captain had caused. Blood, death all around him. The members of the Brotherhood had all been slaughtered, but the Cyalans kept coming. They're too many, too many...

Suddenly, somebody was thrown a few feet away from him, rolling on the ground. Squeezing his eyes, Tsulong recognized Lord Zeke. The old Zangoose coughed up blood and turned his head to look at him, laying exhausted on the ground. Although he was battered and bloody, the look on his face was strangely serene, and his green eyes were peaceful. "Run, boy."

A huge shadow that could only belong to Mantarys approached Lord Zeke and grabbed him from the bloodied fur of his head, forcing him to get on his feet and kneel. Tsulong, in vain, tried to cry in horror as Mantarys silently buried his claws inside Lord Zeke's right eye. The Zangoose shook in breathless pain as the Krookodile raised him and impaled him on the gut, his hand running through him all the way to his back.

"The King'll be happy about my new bracelet," he rasped in a despicable tone, gritting his jaws tightly in anger. When he was done, he unstuck his hands by kicking the body away. Tsulong couldn't tell where the body had gone, or if Mantarys knew the Arcanine was near, but he saw neither of them for the last few seconds. He tried squirming out of the tree on his back, but it proved impossible. He grunted, his eyes watering from the dust. He thought he was seeing things... a figure, more slender, was standing in front of him.

"Huh? Faolan?"

Faolan grasped the tree's trunk and lifted it enough for Tsulong to get off, then let fall with a thud. He winced as he tried to thank the Mienshao, who nodded curtly in response. The dust had settled down and he could clearly see the others; more of the Crimson Company's mercenaries were coming from the east side of the ravaged field, trying to surround them. "Run," Tsulong shouted, and another voice joined him.

"Run, follow me," the only remaining member of the Brotherhood shouted with him; it was the Electabuzz from before. He was headed up north, firing thunderbolts at any Cyalan who came too near, and blocking any ranged attacks with a reflective mirror.

"Perhaps retreating is our best option right now," Faolan concluded and Tsulong agreed and started to run, even though his back ached him.
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Last edited by Ray Maverick; July 21st, 2013 at 03:07 PM.
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  #99    
Old July 23rd, 2013, 05:51 AM
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Garet
GhostFire
 
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: ...And I Dance
Gender: Male
Roscoe
Duskwood

~~~~~

Despite the fact that the Excadrill seemed a veteran, it took less than half a minute of avoiding many of the bigger wounds and slicing with his Leaf Blades before Roscoe managed to knock it down and finish it off with a Giga Drain. His minor cuts closed up as if they'd never been, but the slash to his side and one on his arm weren't yet fully healed. No matter; the energy stored within his neck-seed kept the Sceptile quick and alert.

As Cyalans fought the Brotherhood and the heroes, Roscoe Detected and sidestepped a Blaziken's Blaze Kick before slicing forward with his Leaf Blade. The Blaziken matched it with one Fire Punch and threw another at Roscoe's head, but he caught it with his claws and, through the fire's burn, Drained the Blaziken's energy. As the bird backed off, somewhat sluggishly, Roscoe followed through with a Leaf Blade, knocked aside, closely followed by another, which struck the Blaziken's chest.

"You're Zeke," the Krookodile shouted at his opponent, as he tried a slash, which was parried by the Zangoose's claws. "Fancy yourself a Lord now, don't you?"

His surprise was the main reason that Roscoe was knocked back by a Double Kick. "Gettin' slow, lizard?" the Blaziken taunted with a Swagger.

"No time for you now," Roscoe retorted, ignoring the bird once he'd pushed him back with two more Leaf Blades and another Giga Drain. The Sceptile ran through the battle, dodging around several attacks as he headed for Mantarys, looking for the Zangoose.

~~~~~

For a moment, he was back outside the edge of the forest, at one corner of a triangle with two other Sceptiles, just before the battle had been thrown into more chaos with an Earthquake. Then Roscoe shook his head. No, flashback. Where-- Oh. The Sceptile pushed himself to his feet, thankfully having only been underneath a few light branches and rocks. Looking up, Roscoe saw as several yards away, Mantarys impaled the Zangoose before throwing the body away.

There was no time to dwell on it, as more Cyalan mercenaries were flooding from the east side of the field. Groaning slightly, Roscoe gave himself a shake before hurrying toward the Electabuzz, who'd shouted to follow him. "You heard him!" Roscoe called to the other heroes. "Follow!" The other heroes, assuming they were still alive, could catch up on their own. Dropping down on all four limbs gave the Sceptile some more speed in the forest, enough to catch up with the remaining Brotherhood Pokemon.
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  #100    
Old July 29th, 2013, 08:58 AM
Greiger's Avatar
Greiger
A mad mind... hehe
 
Join Date: Sep 2011
Location: A water pond, duh!
Age: 23
Gender: Male
Nature: Serious
Reginard Asphos
As the ambush happened Reginard just had to sigh, shaking his head. He had felt these ambushers coming to them, but for some reason he just didn't feel like telling the others. Odd... he was usually one to protect others. His head continued to pound wildly... why did it still hurt? Was this truly a migraine? No... that couldn't be right. He just had to battle on through this pain.

He shot out a Psychic at one of these ambushers, but then his head screamed in agony. He rubbed at his forehead and temples desperately, hoping in vain that a massage would at least quell the pain a bit. The others were even more productive than he was at the moment, which was yet more embarrassment for him to take. Here he was, a seasoned explorer and one who had taken on many foes, yet he was powerless when it mattered the most.

As the others began to retreat in that split second Reginard's headache faded away. It was odd... but it was so clear now. His eyes narrowed as he made a small teleport to be in front of the ambushers and his eyes glowed a bright blue. He tugged on the trees around them, causing them to cascade into each other and result in a few dozen falling along the path to at least buy a bit of time. He looked toward where the others were heading and ported to appear right along the Electabuzz.

"Continue on." He simply said as he glanced down at the dirt where they left tracks. His eyes glowed as the dirt was seemingly swept by the wind to destroy the tracks. He levitated himself a bit to swipe the prints he had left and ported up ahead yet again, still sweeping along. "Perhaps it would be wise if you gave me the coordinates you wish to travel to." He said in a droll voice. "Just, you know, in case you are truly seeking escape and what not."
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