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

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Plumbum

The Dandy Highwayman (That You're Too Scared to Me
101
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9
Years
  • Bring them Hail, Team Tundra
    Petrina Levitt, Isak Mategu, Team Tundra, and Team Boot

    "Alright, Tundra, close in! Here's the plan!" Petrina coyed out to her team. Like any plan of hers, it was laced with risk and just that slightest touch of insanity - but the payoff could be incredible. Well worth taking the risks. "So, does anyone here know how to pilot one of those airships?" Petrina stopped for a second as a familiar shape came back from the battle lines, "Doesn't matter. Here comes our little bunny with our backup! Are we ready to wipe out that fleet?" As she detailed the plan to the newly-formed hybrid team, she worked it out in her head again. Sure, Tundra as it had been was going to be playing a supporting role again, but they were ready to wipe out the whole fleet and a good chunk of ground forces. "Important bit! Flagship's last! We won't even get close to it otherwise! Any questions?"

    A Sneasel amongst the Otori raised a clawed hand. "Yeah, how about one about why we should follow a crazy Gold Tribe b*tch as she leads us all to die?"

    "How about the other option where airships overrun Amoon and we all die anyway?" Petrina retorted. "Any real questions?" The team stood quiet, the Sneasel seeming to just accept his scolding. "Good, now Tundra, on me again! We're bringing one to the ground! Everyone else, you're Team Boot! If we live, I'll explain the name! Get ready to board!"

    "Petrina, I've scouted our first target," came a voice from the rooftop of a nearby building. "If we rush down that street, we can get to it without too much hassle from ground troops."

    "Boot, Get with Isak!" Petrina yelled. "We can't be sure where we'll put her down, so be ready to run for it! Tundra, let's build up a storm! Behind and above the airship, remember, we want it here!" The storm began with just a few flakes of snow, the same as it had before - and as ever the storm built into razor-sharp hail faster than any mon could ever count on - within seconds the hail and wind together buffeting the airship would force it to descend! It had to! "That's it, everyone! Let's keep going!"

    "Team Boot! You heard the lady. Start running towards those ships. I'll cover the alleys on the way there." The command from Isak sent the mixed team running off towards the airships, while Isak started hopping rooftop to rooftop.

    The parkour offered Isak a better view of the airship than from the ground. Although a storm was raging above it, the occupants were appearing on deck. Those that could started aiming attacks at Team Boot, but they did not have the element of surprise as Isak shouted commands at the team. Move right, move left, speed up... though crossing the distance to the ship took minutes, the onslaught from above seemed to go on forever.

    That is, until it was time to attack back.

    "Return fire, Team Boot!" As Isak shouted as loud as he could, the team attacked. Flames, water spouts, and other attacks raged towards the ship, only to impact its translucent Psychic shields. The Team was prepared, however, and only attacked as necessary to destroy those shields. As they dimmed, the sounds of screaming wracked the deck, the hail storm finally reaching those on-board.

    "Prepare to board," Isak shouted, doing a forward flip onto his ears, before they unfurled and launched him above the ship amongst a flurry of snow. Those closest to him . on the deck were too busy covering their faces to notice the small Buneary land there, but they found themselves regretting that when his attacks caused them to stumble over the rails. Their screams alerted their comrades and Isak found himself dodging and weaving through the crowd, digging in his bag for his Bright Powder bombs.

    The sound of combat from behind told him that he was no longer the only one that had come aboard. His focus lay elsewhere, as he lunged at a Camerupt who barely was able to muster up a fireball before Isak reached him, neatly dodging the fireball while taking advantage and lighting the fuses on the bombs he held. With seconds to go, he threw them both towards small clusters of enemies. When they exploded, he lunged in and furiously struck at all within reach, using his ears to launch foes while simultaneously flying back at another with a Jump Kick. His successful landing was upset when a pair of rocky hands grabbed him from behind and pressed him to the deck. He felt a couple of his ribs crack.

    "U're a fast one ain'cha, lil' bune'ry. Les' see ya doge th-"

    The voice was cut short by the sound of cracking rocks. Isak crawled out from under the hands as the remnants of the rock Pokemon fell to the side with a thunk. The deck of the ship was much less hectic now, so Isak took a moment to thank his savior, a Frogadier standing proudly over him, his Gold Tribe bracer gleaming on his skinny left arm.

    "Thanks, Artin."

    "No problem Isak. It looks like the deck is--" The Frogadier was cut off by a high-pitched command.

    "Hold the sentiments for a second boys!" Petrina, with the rest of Tundra had waited to board the airship until it was clear. As the team was the best way of getting ship-to-ship, it was best they weren't exposed to any unnecessary risk. "They've still got numbers below deck. I'd bet on it, and they're probably going to ambush us the moment we try to take control. We've got to get down there somehow." Petrina hushed her tone. "No doubt they heard a battle up here, but if we do this right we can turn the tables and get the drop on them."

    Tapping his foot, Isak chimed up. "How about literally? I think we can break through this deck and attack them from a different angle."

    Petrina nodded. "That works. Alright! Let's go down!" With one deep breath in, Petrina seemingly coated one large section of the deck in ice - but the freeze was far deeper than it would initially appear. "Let's go! Biggest and heaviest first, it'll smash to a million pieces!" She nodded towards an Abomasnow - who responded with a running jump onto the frozen deck, crashing straight through as if it had been made of ice since its construction amongst a cacophony of shattering ice, splintering wood and the distinctive thud of a Wood Hammer being driven home into a rebel Pikachu that happened to be just a little too close to the newly-formed hole.

    Isak followed the Abomasnow into the hole, and landed with a soft thump on the wooden floor. Around him, some bunk beds were on laying on their side, having been knocked down not so long ago. This was not the time to rest as the remainder of the rebels on board probably would have heard the destruction. As a number of Team Boot followed suit, Isak heard the sound of footsteps from the hallway and ran off to confront them. The Simisage in the hallway did not have time to react when the Buneary dashed under it and sent it flying with its ears. Its Gabite companion began to rush at him, but Isak was quick with an Ice Punch which caused it to flinch, followed by another incapacitating blow.

    ***​

    Petrina had been no slouch following the back-ranks towards the very core of the airship, the engine room - she could hear the engines all around the ship, coming from the stern. She wasn't familiar with these ships, but she would imagine the engine and control rooms would be close together - as she could see the source of the noise just a smidge down the corridor. Nobody had come forward to greet them, which told her one of two things. Either it was unmanned, which she found unlikely, or they were waiting inside for her and her team. Quickly, she formulated a plan. "Okay guys, no attacking unless things go south or they're going to sabotage the gear. Fan out across the room when we walk in so we can cover them if they don't surrender. Shock them with some Powder Snow if that happens, then take them out!" She was answered by a hushed murmur of approval and a few nods.

    Proceeding down the last of the corridor, she waltzed into what did indeed turn out to be the engine room as if she had every right to be there. "Isn't it a lovely evening, rebels? I've always adored the pitch of a battle!" Presumably, her sheer audacity kept the various 'mon in the room from immediately tearing her a new one. "Now, I'll be brief with this, because my requests of you will be simple and highly reasonable. Surrender, and you will not be harmed! Isn't it excellent? You might all live! And be assured, you will die if you defy us, so what will it be?" The tangible silence held in the room for just a second as the rebels looked back and forth, first to each other and then to Team Tundra.

    All as one, the rebels in the engine room attacked. They're always so hasty. Petrina thought to herself. "Do it then, Tundra!" As they'd agreed before, the team moved in unison - their Powder Snow attacks combined together to not only coat the entire engine room in a coating of fresh, white snow but hurt and stun every rebel in the room, throwing the initiative right back their way. As her team lunged forward, Petrina's eye caught one Ivysaur in the corner - although he was covered in snow like the others and clearly hurting badly, he still had his vines wrapped around what she assumed was an important part of the engine - desperately attempting to tug it free. Petrina couldn't allow the airship to be sabotaged; her Ice Shard was quick and decisive, burying itself in the side of the Ivysaur's head whilst she charged in herself to finish the job, but it was needless as the Grass-type expired before she even reached him - and already the ship had become quiet. No. Too quiet. Sure, the rebels had already been quelled, either dead or forced into surrender, but the engines... there was no sound from them! That Frogadier friend of Isak's might have a clue, but Petrina still wanted to check one last thing. "Any casualties?" She called out to Tundra.

    "We've got hurt over here." The response was from the Abomasnow who had crashed through, calling attention to the Sneasel clutching his arm next to him.

    "I'm fine! I can still fight! F*cking Scyther." the Sneasel protested, kicking at the body of a rebel Scyther that lay at his feet.

    "Enough! You'll leave the dead to lie." Petrina scolded him. She could see the blood running down the Sneasel's arm - he didn't look like he could still fight. "And you're lying about your arm. You're out of this fight."

    "No chance! It's my home, I'll fight for it with no f*cking arms if I have to!" came the vexed response.

    Petrina smiled. This 'mon reminded her of... well, herself. "I'm not happy taking this chance from you, but with that arm, you're a liability. You still have the chance to get away alive - when this ship is clear, get off it!" A long, fixed glare was the only response she got.

    * * *​

    While Petrina and Team Tundra had wandered off to investigate the noise from the engine room, Team Boot, led by Isak and Artin, the Frogadier with flight experience, made their way towards the control room. Up some stairs, down a hallway... the walk was surprisingly uneventful, which concerned the Frogadier. He spoke in a hushed, but deep, voice.

    "I don't like the looks of this, Isak. After the way those Pokemon attempted to ambush us when we came in, I was expecting a lot more fighting."

    "It is a bit strange," Isak replied in an equally hushed voice. "How much farther do you think the control room is?"

    "Not much farther. In every ship I've been in, the control room has always been at the top to maximize visibility."

    "Good. Then maybe we should do some scouting. You watch the rest of the team and I'll-"

    The Frogadier had already dashed off, quickly using Camouflage to temporarily disguise himself.

    Isak held himself back from rushing after him. He was probably making the smarter decision, but running off like that was f*cking rude. He quietly sighed, and turned around to face the rest of Team Boot. They were all anxious to get back to fighting, but it would be better to wait for Artin to return first. "Take five, Boot. We're staying put for now."

    Some 'mon groaned, a few started leaning against the walls or sitting down, but the rest were more alert and started opening doors or watching the corridor. Isak didn't join them in taking a break or looking around, as he was still contemplating what Artin said before leaving. He temporarily lost himself in thought. Why haven't they been attacked yet? Did Team Boot just luck out or was the enemy planning something? If they were, Isak could not hear them. Aside from the breathing of the team, the only other thing he could hear was a rushing of wind from the ships ventilation system. Wherever those rebels were, they didn't seem to be coming at them any time soon. At least, it seemed that way...

    The sound of stressed breathing from one of the rooms caught his attention. One or two of the team were starting to cough, and a smell was starting to linger in the air. When Isak realized what it was, he couldn't help but shout. "Someone set up a Safeguard, now!" Some of the Pokemon in the hallway were starting to slump to the floor now, paralyzed by Stun Spore, but a Hypno managed to prepare her Safeguard before anyone else fell.

    "You, keep that Safeguard up. It's the only thing keeping the others from getting sick." Isak frantically darted his head, up and down the hallway, roof to floor, but he couldn't discern a source. The only thing that stuck out was the ventilation system... That's it! "I'm going to find the Pokemon responsible for this. Everyone else, try to get the rest of the sick to safety." Without a further command, he dashed off down the hall, the same direction that Artin had left.
     

    GastlyGibus

    I'm battin' a thousand!
    174
    Posts
    10
    Years
  • At the frontlines.

    "Slow down, Your Highness, you are dangerously far from your troops," Thresh shouted, using Shadow Sneak to slice through the crazed enemies who were trying to reach the lightning-wielding Mega Ampharos. Dareon advanced like a spear being shot between enemy lines, frying his way through Hesperians as if they were all made of paper; any ranged attacks thrown at him either fell to his superior lightning or his Aegislash follower deflected with his shield.

    "Leave me be," the Emperor roared in manic fury, "I am not risking anyone getting to Vektor before me!"

    Thresh used King's Shield to protect them both from an ambitious Fearow; when it clashed with the Aegislash's shield, the sparks alone of the next intense attack of the Emperor made it toast. "Your Highness, we're in the middle of the enemy lines," Thresh protested steely, "you are in danger."

    "They are in danger, for they have provoked my wrath. I will kill every last man who stands between me and him," the dragon roared; his roars were like thunder, audible from miles away.

    Thresh hadn't seen Dareon so angry, except perhaps during the first weeks of the rebellion, and he knew when he made a promise like that, it had to be true. He was always relentless, even as a child, so Thresh had to take up the role of the more rational one. There was a psychic pendant hanging through a hole in his edge; he activated it with what psychic power he possessed, in order to send a message of help to a teleporter. Not to take Dareon away; Thresh had learned long time ago not to meddle with him when he had set his mind on something. Instead, Thresh's job was to ensure that he accomplished his quest, whatever that was, so he ordered the teleporter to gather some of the Gold Tribe from the village and message that airship that was floating around for help.

    The message was quite a stretch, as it took a fair amount of bravery to agree to be ported right in the middle of enemies, with just your Emperor and his Shield, so Thresh hesitated for a moment... but then thought, if Dareon fell, they all would fall.

    As the chaos around the village continued Thrasher managed to finally make it back to the perimeter. All around him various explosions had taken place and he was lucky that not one had blown off a limb of his. Of course, he was a bit breathless by that point. The village hadn't fallen yet, which was good, but it also meant that any defenders that were stationed there were probably being driven to their limits in terms of energy. The army was still massive and full of energetic soldiers, which would only spell their doom.

    Thrasher expected the emperor to at least remain in Amoon, maybe patrol the perimeters every so often, but that didn't seem to be the case. Some psychics were shouting out for assistance. Apparently, the emperor hadn't stayed close by, but was pushing out to find Vektor himself. Of course he was frying up any enemies he came upon... but Thrasher could only wonder how long his energy would last before he would collapse from exhaustion. These same psychics were going to port some of the Gold Tribe over to aid Dareon. On the one hand, it could be a good move to be ported over and show his dedication to the crown. On the other... the Emperor believed the lies Gerrick spewed and he could potentially be blasted into pieces once he showed up. Oh hell to it!

    "Get me in there!" He shouted out to a Gardevoir, "If the king wants a suicide run, then he's getting one! Either Vektor goes down, or we all perish!"

    Meanwhile, Cassandra kept up her defense of the inner city, managing to successfully keep the enemy at bay along with Pendro and Punisher. However, the longer they fought, the more fatigued she became, and their enemy's numbers seemed without end. They continually pushed forward against the defense, threatening to very soon overpower the Otori.

    The Lilligant threw out Razor Leaf after Razor Leaf, always hitting her mark and never giving an inch. She grew tired, but the adrenaline of battle kept her going well beyond her limits. Suddenly, as she fought, she heard a frantic call from psychics; a call of assistance, requesting the remaining Gold Tribe to come to the emperor's aid.

    "Erm... you heard that too, didn't you?" Pendro asked to her right. The Metang blocked a thrown boulder with a barely audible whimper, before retaliating against the offending Aurorus with a beam of focused light. "I hope so; I'd hate to be succumbing to hallucinogenic PTSD so soon..."

    "I heard it," Cassandra replied. She turned her attention to the entrance, hoping to spot Punisher among the fighting. She couldn't see him, unfortunately. "Well, if you heard it, I'm betting the others heard it too. We... we should probably get going, then." the Lilligant's voice faltered slightly, her attention still fixed on the defenders as they fought off the invasion.

    "I, er- are- are you sure? You don't sound too sure, but maybe that's just me, I- ah!" Pendro blocked an icicle spear before throwing a psychic blast off into the trees. "I wouldn't be too worried about Dareon - most of the Tribe will probably join him in a heartbeat - and we need to keep our forces balanced. I think. I, um... I don't know, just do what you think is right. I'll stick with you."

    "It's nothing," Cassandra replied hastily. She shook her head once, facing the Metang now. "We need to help Dareon. If he falls, we have nothing left to fight for."

    Reaching Mind barely hid a wince, for the moment concealing his discontent for the Lilligant's words. "I... if you say so, I guess..." His concealment wasn't entirely effective.

    "I'm not too happy with it either," Cassandra replied. "But we took an oath, and I intend on upholding that oath."

    "I'm not- this, this isn't... this isn't a conversation I should be getting into now, I'm sorry - I should focus." The Metang sighed, readying himself. "Stay safe and good luck."


    ***

    Thresh rushed forward at his top speed, trying to keep up with the bulky Ampharos that progressed through the Hesperian ranks, punching them with lightning like an arrow. The Aegislash cloaked himself in shadow when he saw a Rhydon on his four feet, charging at the Emperor, unaffected by lightning; he was cut down by the blade with a Sacred Sword technique which sent him on the ground, howling. Thresh ran through him wholly thanks to his Shadow Sneak - one more Hesperian down in a matter of a couple of seconds. Help must be on the way, the Aegislash thought madly, his sole eye glancing around the battlefield for other potential threats or incoming allies.

    "I like yer fancy shield... I think I'll just take it!"

    A Sandslash noticed Thresh guarding the Emperor, beginning a mad rush towards the Aegislash, ready to attack. Before the Sandslash had traveled more than ten feet, he was struck with a razor leaf, then two, then three... soon enough, he had fallen, as Cassandra stood nearby, her hands up and ready in a combat stance.

    "Where's the Emperor?" she asked hurriedly.

    Pendro cried out in shock as he barely raised his arms in time to block an opposing Razor Leaf at close range. The Nuzleaf, shocked by the sudden arrival of the metang and the lilligant, was quickly struck down by a frantic ice punch to the face. Reaching Mind continued to look ahead with his arms raised.

    "Probably behind us," Pendro answered. "Because if he wasn't we'd probably be dead. Or we will be in about half a second. Well, Cassandra, we had a good run, but it looks like we- nope, we're fine. Keep on fighting. No problems, we're good. Crisis averted. Or, uh... less immediate. Still pretty stressful. Could do with some tea."

    The Emperor let out an ear-shattering roar; he seemed so caught into the battle that he didn't notice that the Gold Tribe had started arriving. Thresh tried telling him once, twice, until he finally got it and glanced behind him to confirm. At that time, Garland and the rest of the members of the Obelisk group had appeared in the scene. The Floatzel leader had already begun amassing water for his Surf attack that would wash a group of enemies away.

    "Here you are," Emperor Dareon rasped, catching up his breath and slowing his pace, "you know what's at stake here? My honor, and yours, which this traitorous fiend wants to trample!"

    Garland swirled around from his attack, exhaling strongly, wearily. It was clear he was left out of choices. "Then let's go kill that bastard," he said and Thresh leaned towards him, whispering, "very good wording, sir." Despite that, the Exalted One made sure to walk closely besides the Emperor to say, "Dareon... there is no stopping you, is there? There were some developments in the Obelisk..."

    But the Floatzel was cut off by another great roar from the dragon when he launched his Dragon Pulse at a group of incoming Hesperians. Suddenly, past that group, another group of Pokemon was made apparent. It was a set of Doublades that formed a circle. Before Garland could say anything else, Dareon bellowed, half happily, half-mad in his anger, "Aahh! I found you, Vektor! Exathor is much too small for the both of us! Is that your Shield? Pathetic! Thresh, Gold Tribe, crush those pretenders. For the Thunder Crown!"

    "For the Thunder Crown," Garland roared with him, "brothers, sisters, make an opening through the Doublades, quickly now!"

    Garland did not have to command it twice. Within moments, a ferociously spinning Donphan was rushing off toward the Doublade, shining silver as she prepared an Iron Defense. Doublade were among the Pokemon Beryl disliked to fight, purely based on their bodily composition. The best way to tackle them would be a maximum velocity, head-on Rollout, so she obliged them. She felt the impact of their steely bodies as she loudly crashed into them, knocking a few over before finding herself spinning fruitlessly against a powerful force. Not one to allow a Protect to give the enemy an upper hand, she changed course and circled back towards the rest of the Gold Tribe.

    Noah sprung into action immediately after Beryl circled out of the way. Igniting the bonfire on his shoulders and inhaling deeply, he unleashed a thick and hazy Heat Wave that seared through every enemy 'mon in his line of fire. The Doublade especially were stricken heavily. The swords that were bold enough at attempting to endure the attack were thoroughly singed and burning metal stung through the air as evidence. The Doublade that evaded the attack effectively broke formation, and the opening Garland requested was temporarily granted.

    Alphus charged forth as he grabbed Dean and held him up before him. The Poliwhirl spat out water at their enemies as Alphus threw Dean up, leaping at one of the Doublades and sliding under the blades as he opened his beak and lit the steel swords on fire. As he ran he held out his hands and caught the falling Dean as the Poliwhirl shouted out, "Another opening! Move it slowpokes!" He called back to the others.

    Tavhir rushed forward, building up dark energy in his blades and calling out to his sister behind him. "Just like we practiced," he shouted. With that, Cassandra threw her hands out towards her brother, surrounding him with a bright glow from her Helping Hand technique. The Pawniard felt the energy building, both inside and around him, before slicing his hands forward and releasing a powerful Dark Pulse. He channeled his negative emotions, blasting one of the Doublades clear away with the intensity of the attack.

    The defense of the Doublades was shaken with the fierce attacks of the Gold Tribe. There was an opening, which Garland and Thresh took advantage of. The Floatzel took the lead with a tidal wave, shooting through their lines, and Thresh cutting his way to the inner circle... where Vektor and his two commanders were moving to attack them. Vektor was tall and scary for a Drapion and Garland was suddenly daunted by his presence, especially when paired with those of his two commanders; a Tangrowth called Lady Renia and a Rhyperior, Lord Sirius.

    "Leave him to me!" Dareon bellowed, bursting with sparks through the opening, his black eyes wide open in his fury. Everyone knew what he was talking about. He headed in a straight line, directly for Vektor. Thresh followed him close by, repelling any attack made against him by the Shield of Doublades.

    "Help me take care of these traitors," Garland hissed to his brothers and sisters, waving his arm to the commanders, who looked fearful.

    "The Shield!" Thresh shouted, "repel the Shield, don't let them reach the Emperor!"

    Pendro shook his head in confusion, stammering more to himself than to Thresh. "B-but you're the- oh, the other shield- the false shield! That one! Okay! I'll use a, erm... a laser beam or something..."

    The Metang hastily prepared a Flash Cannon, blasting a focused burst of light at a Doublade. The sword Pokémon, already weakened by some of Beryl's earlier charge, fell immediately back down and opened a path for the beam to continue. The Flash Cannon sped past Garland's right ear, striking Lord Sirius beyond him square in one of his eyes. The great Rhyperior grunted and staggered as the attack dissipated, but he remained standing. Rocks materialized in the air above the Gold Tribe, starting to fall in a Rock Slide.
     

    Kikpanther

    Not a beginner that's for sure
    663
    Posts
    15
    Years
  • One week ago...​


    Nadia's modest dress blew in the wind as she traveled high in the night sky. The Crobat she road on carried her smoothly towards the Citadel. They had started a distance from the building in order to give Asaito enough time to shut the lights illuminating the imposing stronghold. It shouldn't be hard after all, since Nadia had provided him with the poison to dispose of the greedy Carracosta in their way. She had picked through flower after flower in order to get the right dosage for the Carracosta. True, she could have just bought poison, but...

    "And this, sweetie, is the fi-i-nest restaurant in all of Union City! Forget the other ones!"

    Out of the Crobat's sight, Nadia rolled her eyes. The Crobat had talked ever since they took off about the various stores and "attractions" available at Union City. He had flip flopped over and over again about which restaurant was "the finest in all of Union City". It was a pain to listen to. She almost regretted picking up the Pokemon near one of bars she visited. A breath-taking woman like her looking to sight-see? Too easy, really. She had plenty of takers, but it was just her luck that this Crobat was the only one who could fly.

    "Then this is the one you just have to take me to after our tour," Nadia said with feigned interest, caressing the flying Pokemon's back.

    "A-Absolutely!" Nadia smirked when she felt the Crobat pick up speed, her eyes locked on the lighted Citadel before them. During the night, spotlights crossed the dark sky so the guards who could patrol the sky while flying had more visibility. The Crobat was wisely staying away from the lights... which would go away soon, Nadia knew, clearing the way to the Citadel.

    ***​

    Asaito was balanced on the spike. The wind blew through the square in front of the White Citadel, a dark wind brought from the north. The Greninja paid it no heed. His eyes were fixed on the Carracosta upon the southern barracks, the Pokemon who was supposed to be guarding his post with a restless eye, but was chomping down on the Chesto Berries instead. A slight, arrogant smile spread across Asaito's lip-less mouth, seeing the huge blue Pokemon reach down the sack of berries that he always claimed all for himself.

    Before today's carriage was searched and then lifted and taken inside by the Sky Guard, Asaito had sneaked quieter than a shadow as the car was moving across the square and jumped inside. Finding the sack of Chesto Berries was only a matter of seconds, as it was huge. When he was out of the car, every Chesto Berry was soaked in the poison the helpful Nadia had crafted - and the poisoned berries were straight on their way to the fat Carracosta atop the walls. They were taking some time to kick in, but Asaito never lost his confidence.

    Sure enough, the Carracosta's hand flapped to the side, trying to find more of his favorite berries. He stopped moving, confused and with his mouth half open and full of the berry, then he toppled over his post. That was the Greninja's cue. From his place atop the spike, he leaped into the trench that surrounded the Citadel. The quiet splash he made as he dove into the murky water went undetected, as the poisoned Carracosta was passed out in front of the spotlight he would turn to Asaito to spot him immediately.

    The Greninja jumped out of the water nimbly, moving so fast that he was barely visible. His long fingers stuck on the white rock as if they had glue in them. He ascended up the wall quickly and effortlessly, leaping and grabbing a flag spike protruding sideways, propelling himself up. He landed, crouching in his sneaky stance next to the Carracosta, whose eyes had turned to the back of his head and his mouth was foamed. "Sorry pal," Asaito whispered, "it's nothing personal. You understand."

    He scooped up the lid of the sack with the berries and started beating it around; he had to destroy the evidence of the poison. After the Carracosta woke up, he would not remember a thing, and if Asaito was not seen - which of course, he would not be seen - the Citadel would remain unwitting to the infiltration.

    Once the berries were juice after the beating, Asaito emptied the bag's content down the trench, and when that was done, he placed the bag on the guard's belly. "Blanket, so you don't get cold," Asaito joked.

    Past the white walls, there were the gardens, surrounding the White Citadel - tall green grass, well looked after yet left to grow wild. Asaito could see huge trees, groomed to look like dragon-type Pokemon all across the garden. His frog eyes could see guards poking through the green, but he barely minded. The inside of the palace was actually poor-lit, so a Greninja would easily slip past sight with speed and the veil of the night about him.

    After a swift blast through the tall grass and a few leaps through the branches of some cinder trees, Asaito found himself on the other end of the garden, behind the White Citadel. There was a small building in front of him with a label on the door, "Generator Room, guarded by two Pyroars; the Greninja had nested himself in the darkness of a nearby tree, sitting on a branch.

    Asaito had spied the room before he'd met Nadia, during one of his scouts around the Citadel. The building was very small, about half a person in size, so he assumed it led underground, where most obviously the generator for the lights outside the Citadel was more well guarded.

    He raised his arm towards the room, his two fingers pointing upwards and shut his eyes. A strange, muffled and constant sound started coming off the Generator Room. The Pyroars noticed the ruckus after a few seconds, staring at the door, startled. The spotlights that lit the night sky above the Citadel flickered and the lights were shut off, leaving the sky black. The Pyroars opened the door to the Generator Room, about to head in, but out came a flood of water that knocked them backwards. Asaito covered his mouth with his pink scarf, chuckling quietly. The way was clear.

    ***​

    When the lights fell, every star in the sky could be seen again. A smile spread smoothly across Nadia's face. "Oo~?" The noise she made filled with fabricated curiosity. "What's going on over there I wonder?"

    "That there is the Citadel up ahead, little lady! It's guarded 24/7 by the toughest guards here in Union City!" The Crobat paused for a moment. "The lights are usually up all night over there, but..." He trailed off as if trying to find his words. "Somethin' must be goin' down over there I think!"

    "If that's true then this must be a once in a lifetime opportunity! We have to see what's going on! " Nadia said excitedly.

    "D-Doesn't that seem a little dangerous, Ms. Nadia!? There are guards and if there's actual fighting...!"

    "Maybe," she shrugged, "but I'm sure you can keep us safe, right?," Nadia caressed the Crobat below the stomach softly with her tail. "Don't tell me you've never been adventurous."

    "Y-Yeah of course I have! Wh-Who hasn't? Just lay low and I'll get us there, sweetheart." The Crobat refocused his path towards the Citadel. He flew swiftly and silently through the night sky, flying low to dodge the airborne guards who hadn't left to see about the lights. "I don't see any ruckus going on," the Crobat commented as he searched for signs of battle below. The only abnormalities he noticed were the guards congregating around a flooded room. "Maybe it was just some kind of fluke..."

    "Keep going, we might find something," Nadia spoke, her own eyes searching below. The Citadel was even more of a behemoth than it seemed from the outside. Below them was a massive expanse of gardens. Even from here Nadia could see the variety of beautiful and exotic plants below them. If one didn't know better, it would be as though the Citadel was built around the quiet forest below them. It was known that the Emperor and the Crowned Prince spent their time exploring and hunting in the acres of green. It was impossible from anything but dumb luck that anyone below Dareon's kindness would ever see this place, even from far in the sky. The Crobat would be smart to remember this. As for Nadia, it was unimportant to her. She had no interest in flowers and trees, her keen eyes looked for something more specific. Nadia's eyes scanned the expanse of the stronghold until she saw the sparkle of water ahead of them. "Over there," She said, directing the Crobat to the spot. The Crobat flew over to the spot, circling overhead so they could both get a good look.

    "Whoa..." The Crobat noised, impressed. "Just imagine living in a place like this!"

    "Let's go down and it up close," Nadia suggested.

    "B-But..." The Crobat stammered, his awe replaced with worry. "What if there are guards searching there too?"

    "But isn't this apart of our tour?" Nadia asked with almost a whine. The Crobat made a nervous noise, but descended into the garden anyways. In seconds they were swallowed by the garden-forest, its beauty was worth nothing less than awe. On the ground, the garden looked even bigger than it had from the sky. The grass was soft below their feet and the forest had a soothing, earthy smell to it. All around they could here the soft cooes and chirps of wild forest 'mon kept to naturally maintain the grand forest. Nadia stepped off of the Crobat's back as he looked around the forest in all, smiling at the beautiful, soft lights produced by the Pokemon hidden inside.

    ***​

    The waters of the lake reflected the moon, its pale shine shimmering as the slightest of cold wind blew through the gardens of the royal palace. At a normal day, this backyard that was the size of a small forest with a lake in it was meant to be a welcoming sight, a place to soothe the lives of wild visitors who resided there and the imperial family who relaxed by the lake and went hunting. Now, there was none of the friendly energy; it was almost abandoned, covered in snow and the lake almost frozen, and critter were all driven away by another, bigger and shadier presence in the gardens.

    Nadia stepped in front of the lake and looked down into the water. Her red jewel glowed from the moonlight above, but she quickly looked away from the jewel and from the lake itself entirely. It was good for baiting the gullible like the Crobat, but it had no affect on her. In fact, much the opposite. The thought of the Crobat made Nadia look back at the 'mon who took her there. His expression of awe before had transformed into that of worry. He nervously scanned the trees before finally looking her way.

    The Crobat flapped his wings enough to quickly glide himself to her spot. "Are you ready to go?" There was a tremble in his voice and Nadia could tell he was trying to mask his fear. The Crobat looked towards the entrance to the garden and then back at her. "Guards might..." He paused and then swallowed, "they might come in here soon. We should go." Nadia said nothing to the Crobat, instead she regarded him silently. There was little point in keeping up her disguise now, so what point was there to continue to be friendly to the little... Thing. Nadia's stare must have held the same darkness the forest harbored now. It was only a moment after they spoke that the Crobat had to take his eyes off hers, unable to hold the stare for long. When his eyes reached the ground, Nadia turned hers away towards the forest beyond the lake.

    "One more moment."

    Darkness amassed on the surface of the lake before them, just a few feet from the coast, drowning the pale moonlight. A shadow emerged, so tall that it hid the moon; that was the Pokemon that was haunting the place, forcing the critter to desert the untended, abandoned gardens. Almost nine feet tall, he had a blood-red eye on his head, two more eyes that glowed golden on his belly and a monstrous mouth underneath them. The mouth was eager, terrible fangs shifting around and a tongue of darkness licking the golden lining that served as its lips. His body was a wrap of tattered bandages that leaked shadow.

    The giant Dusknoir caught the Espeon's unfrightened stare. He seemed to recognize her, so his own red eye did not stay idle on her for long. The Crobat was frozen with fear, though, flinching in place from the size of the ghost and the effect his hungry mouth had, paired with the red gaze of his only eye. The words that formed in the air echoed in the whole forest: "Kill him."

    "Wh-What?" The Crobat managed to squeak. He could tear his eyes away from the Dusknoir only to look at Nadia, his expression fearfully asking if she was willing to do something as insane as what the Dusknoir asked him. His hopes of her refusing vanished when Nadia looked his way and her eyes began to glow a bright blue. The Crobat opened his wings and flew into the air as quickly as he could. He wasn't above the trees before he stood still from the psychic grasp Nadia had over him. In a second his glowing body was pulled into the lake below, creating a splash that brought water above Nadia's head. She looked into the cold, clear water, watching the Crobat struggle below. The impact alone was enough to force the air out of the lungs of a small 'mon like himself, it wouldn't be a long time waiting.

    ... Nadia's eyes were back on the Dusknoir who towered above her. The Crobat's body floated face-down in the center of the lake. The forest was silent.

    The giant inclined his head a bit, his only eye falling upon the Espeon. "Lady Aria Windseer," he said politely with a ghostly, echoing voice that sounded as if it was coming from the depths of hell. "You are the one to be blamed for the obscurity of the Citadel tonight," he said, as if he just now realized. The main spotlights of the fortress were still down. "Using the dark to mask your approach. Clever. I do the same. I was notified of your arrival in Union City... and I was expecting you, but not airborne."

    "It was the easiest way in," Aria answered the Prophet. "And I was told you can provide an easy way out."

    The Prophet of the Crimson Dawn put his hands on his hips; the mouth of his belly was still shifting eagerly, the tongue of shadow lapping hungrily at the golden lips, despite the Dusknoir's stillness. The ghost had an air of seriousness and authority, to which his height added tons. "No way out is needed at the moment, Espeon. Our business - your business, rather - is inside the fortress." His large single eye, like a red moon on the sky, was fixed on her, evaluating her. He paused, drawing a ragged breath, his bandages lightly, eerily waving to the direction of the breeze. "Teneth did well to send you to me. I was about done handling all of what needs to be done in Union City by myself. I haunted this garden the very next minute Dareon left for Alamagna, and I had to put the Crown Prince to sleep and carry him all the way to Stoneyard all alone. Some people need to die in this fortress, and I will not do that alone."
     
    3,411
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    • Seen May 5, 2024

    Crimson Dawn: A Tale of Conquest (IC)



    Earthquake


    The floor was cold under his feet. Snowflakes fell from the open space in the small gardens between the spear-like towers of the Crystal Palace.

    There was a rectangular place in front of the Haxorus where a grey, miserable grass struggled to grow, despite the snow. The place was amongst the cold stone and in front of a window; in it, Lord Teneth of the Shukahen Tribe was curled up on a red mat, like a King of some sort, munching on something that looked like raw meat. Romulus never liked the sleazy Umbreon. The way he regarded people, the way he treated them, as if they were all part of a puppet show that was put up to amuse him. Beyond the window behind him, the battle didn't look so good for him. Him, alone, he would never attack Amoon Village on his own. Too high of a risk, and it would attract the Emperor's wrath on him alone. He was counting on Vektor and Rethlor to take him out, they had examined Dareon's strategy in each battle: to stay in one place, to take hits and then retaliate more fiercely, as it had happened in the War of Succession.

    Romulus had hid a smile of satisfaction when he'd seen Dareon had thought to take troops outside the village, so he would ambush the army that he had predicted was incoming. Vektor was a mighty warlord, commanding a force of forty thousand strong, but in his mad drive after proclaiming himself Emperor, he had underestimated the wits of the rightful one. The Hesperian banners with the Swellow were spread thin around the rock Amoon Village was built on, moving like a blue snake through the forest. It was this thinness of the enemy troops that Emperor Dareon took advantage of. As Vektor's vanguard marched past the ambush, headed for the eastern entrance to Amoon, Dareon attacked where Vektor was following his vanguard.

    The snow whirled down the valley, towards the pine forest of the Otori, and the greyness of the clouds was settling in, but visibility had yet to become absolutely obscure. The dead-eyed Haxorus could see clearly what was happening. Dareon's troops with Union City's white flags, the white snake, hiding in the bush till now, bit the other, blue snake, on the neck, and the lightnings could be seen and heard all the way to the frozen tops where the Crystal Palace was built.

    Soon, the two Emperors would be locked in combat, and the result would determine the winner of this war - for if Vektor perished, no one could take his place, no other lord would dare question Dareon's strength. And if that happened, Romulus had to hand it to him. He liked a challenge from time to time, but even he would fear to face the Emperor himself, if he could manage to best Vektor.

    Teneth was equally amused by the outcome that was destined for this battle, though for somewhat different reasons. Having climbed on the window, he was watching the battle, when Romulus appeared. The Umbreon had looked glad to see him answer his summon, but he was also cautious of him, so he had set invisible ghost guards around him. Romulus worked for Vendra, and treachery within the Family wasn't a new thing.

    He quietly waited till the lord finished his meal. The Umbreon looked up at him with a curious flash on his red eyes. "So, dear Romulus," he spoke softly, "you are experienced in battles of this sort, aren't you?" He gestured with his head towards the window.

    "If your lordship says so," Romulus grunted indifferently.

    "Very well, then!" the Umbreon exclaimed cheerfully, "how do you think we fare in this battle?"

    The Haxorus pursed his mouth, gazing at the Umbreon, without letting on any of his thoughts slip to his expression. "Not good," he said truthfully. "Vektor's a moving corpse. If you're any bit as smart as you're being given credit for, you'd command a retreat. My lord," he added respectfully in the end.

    The Umbreon looked at him with an easy expression. "I would have never thought of that!" he said dramatically, and Romulus was quite sure he was mocking him lightly. Romulus kept his face preserved, refraining from displaying any signs of disturbance.

    "Mary," Lord Teneth called out, and a Mismagius appeared almost instantly next to him, bowing low.

    "My lord," she said obediently.

    "Be so kind as to command a full retreat. The conquest of Amoon Village can wait till the lovely bout of the Emperors is over! Hehehahah!"

    The Mismagius bowed and disappeared.

    Romulus's stone gaze returned to the Umbreon. "Why did you summon me here?" he asked straightforwardly, growing impatient.

    "My, my! So hasty! Yes, my tall friend, I ought to tell you. There is not a chance you would accept my invitation to enjoy my company, is there...?" his mouth trembled, as if with laughter. "The reason you are here is... gold, a pile big enough to cover you completely, and it must be a very sizable pile to cover you whole. It will be yours... if you swear secret allegiance to me, and see to the success of missions only I give you. Vendra is nothing to you, is she? She does not appreciate your skills the way I do, I bet. So, what do you say?"

    Romulus was still after the words had faded. "Who can say no to such an offer?" he said, and the Umbreon smiled.

    "I knew you would cooperate, slick. You just have to be discreet... are we clear?"

    Romulus grunted in response. "What would you ask of me, then?"

    The Umbreon left his red mat on the grass and jumped on the window, looking down on the battle. It took him a while to answer, as if he was calculating odds and weighing powers in his head. "You know whose shadow is big enough to cover the whole of Exathor?" he asked finally in a skeptical voice.

    "Thrace's," Romulus answered immediately.

    Teneth shut his lips and shook his head lightly, still looking outside the window. "Naah," he said, slightly perturbed. "It's the Caretaker's shadow. There are three people aware of his identity: Thrace, Kagemusha and Vendra, and they will not tell us, for reasons of secrecy and other excuses. However, they are all equally fond of speaking of him. He must be an intriguing fellow... charming in his own way, perhaps, and quite smart, as I hear it. I never cared much for who he was. What did it matter? I did what was best for preserving my status and preventing the people in my command from having to join the mad Thunder Crown against impossible odds. But now, the game's changed. Before she awakened, I thought Thrace had thought to bring Exathor to its knees. A thousand years - no, far more, in fact - in seclusion, after betrayal... if I was in her place, I too, would plan domination. Now that I've seen her, the raw power that bends 'mon around her, the way she treats us like tools... I've begun to realize that she was not at all instrumental in the making of such a grand, elaborate scheme. No, it wasn't her. Someone else is using us all - the Crusade and the Gold Tribe, carrying out the war like the maestro of an orchestra... only it is an invisible maestro, and we follow nothing but the shadow of his movement."

    He looked at Romulus intently, seriously, having lost all of his merriness. "I want to know who is dangerous enough to think of such a scheme," Lord Teneth said, "so that I may begin the preparations... for when he betrays me. I would much rather be the maestro, rather than the musician."

    The Haxorus was silent. He'd crossed his arms, listening carefully to the Umbreon, nodding from time to time. His insight was useful, and he had spoken of things Romulus himself had not thought of. Perhaps he did not look it, but he wanted to involve himself in the survival game. Perhaps Teneth was the right ally. He had done well to come to him.

    "You want to find out who this Caretaker person is, then," Romulus decided.

    "That should suffice for a start. I cannot beat an enemy if I do not know who he is."

    Silence fell among them for a few moments. Romulus was contemplating on the benefits of working for Teneth and the downsides. Teneth probably considered him harmless to his employer, despite what had happened with Vendra, so he would rest safely knowing that he had paid Romulus off. That was good.

    "Oh, by the way," Lord Teneth broke the silence, his cheerful tone returning, "your brother. Gerrick Errias."

    Romulus's pupils widened with fury in the mention of the name. His fangs to the side of his face were bared instinctively. "What of him?" he asked, a bit too abruptly.

    Teneth ignored his manner, maintaining this ageless, pestering mocking smile and tone. "It appears your former kin has imprisoned him."

    Romulus glanced to the side, smirking his brows in thought, as pondering what Gerrick's imprisonment constituted. They managed to get him, he thought in satisfaction he did not show."Are they going to kill him?" he asked.

    "Perhaps! Perhaps not! How would I know? He is still alive, though."

    "Where are they keeping him?"

    "Amoon Village," Lord Teneth said reluctantly, but he understood his mistake right away.

    Romulus turned and headed for the stairs on the other side of the garden, to the teleporters.

    "Where are you going?" the Umbreon complained.

    "I've personal business take care of. I'll take one of your airships," the Haxorus said brassily.

    Lord Teneth jumped off his perch on the window. "That is insane! You'll get killed!"

    "You don't know me very well," Romulus muttered, the muscles of his face stone-hard with rage for the betrayal of his brother, his fists tightened into knots.

     

    SV

    See You Space Cowboy
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    • Seen Feb 7, 2022

    Gerrick Errias - Just hanging out


    It was an uncomfortable position to be placed in, to swing by a chain hanging upside down inside of a prison cell. That slow swing, left to right, left to right, was becoming more irksome to Gerrick the longer he had stayed in there. However, when the attacks had begun, any rumble or loud noise that shook the area strong enough caused an extended swing from his chain, upside down prison. So Gerrick knew the closer each bombardment was, the closer every explosion or other noise of battle became, the more he would swing from the ceiling of his prison. And the more he would swing, the more annoyed he became by the position he was in. Annoyed, and anxious.

    A final earthquake surprisingly nearby shook everything violently and with extreme vigor, causing Gerrick to swing forcefully left and right, front and back, in every direction. Now he wasn't just annoyed or anxious. He was a bit nauseous.

    Screams were coming from outside and a dragon roared. Another earthquake was set off; people seemed to have been faced with a challenge.

    After the earthquakes, the door to his cell burst open by two frantic Doublades from the Emperor's Shield. Those were the guards outside! They floated in quickly, the keys to Gerrick's cuffs dangling from their psychic grasp. They glanced up at the criminal hanging from the ceiling, ensuring he was still there. "The village is under attack," one of them stated, most obviously.

    "You aren't safe here, so we're transporting you, prisoner of the state," said the other Doublade, which floated up to the lock connecting the chains of the ceiling with the Krookodile's cuffs, slipped the key and turned. They didn't bother to catch Gerrick as he fell.

    Gerrick fell onto the floor and grunted at the impact. He rose up and pumped his neck back and forth as he let out a large, satisfying crack. "Ahh... so much damn better," He said with a sharp exhale. "Lead the way. I ain't dyin' today."

    The Doublades were silent as they led him to the door. One of them walked ahead of him, the other behind.

    "Then again just because I ain't that doesn't mean anyone else isn't," Gerrick commented as he walked between the Doublades. "I mean hell, the whole place is burnin' to the ground, and here you are tryin'a move me away? How about just leave me and save yourselves? Hell, I would in your place."

    "Silence, brute," one of the Doublades was saying, as he was exiting through the door, "nothing of the sort is going to--" A big shadow stood on the door, blocking the Doublade's exit. Black claws reached out for the two swords, and with darkness and a sharp steel sound, they were bend; the Doublade fell lifeless on the floor, to be kicked away like a toy away from the one who stepped in the room: a brawny Haxorus with scars all over his body. His dark eyes were fixed on Gerrick intently, his jaws clenched and in the brief moment he stood there, his deadly intent was almost something you could touch.

    The instant the guard was kicked away, the Doublade behind Gerrick shouted in dismay, seeing and recognizing the Pokemon before him.

    Romulus swung past Gerrick with heavy and sure footing, reaching for the swords with the dark grasp of Assurance. The blades made an effort to attack back, as defending themselves was not natural to their species, but the darkness in the Haxorus's hands pierced through their attack and the force of his own attack bent their steel, shooting them to the back of the cell to crush horribly against the wall.

    Gerrick meanwhile took this opportunity to make a pass at the keys. He grabbed the set with his tail, and positioned it behind his back to begin fiddling with the keyhole. It took several attempts and multiple expletives leaving the Krookodile's mouth, before he finally unlocked the set of cuffs around his arms. He watched as Romulus dispatched the two Doublades, then set his eyes upon the Haxorus. There was no trace of sympathy in Romulus's eyes.

    "Brother," Romulus said, shaking his head, "I knew they'd keep you alive. Hpmh."

    "I gotta say, you're just about the last person I expected to come and help me," Gerrick replied. He moved back a few steps and his body was visibly tense as he appeared to be on edge at the presence of the Haxorus. "Uh... you did come to help me, right? You didn't come to like, finish the job yourself or any of the sh*t right? I mean... I have gold hidden away outside Alamagna if ya want it. We can split it... 70-30!"

    "Arceus take your gold, I don't want it," Romulus bellowed, taking steps towards his brother, his claws bent and ready for an attack, "I've come to do what Alonsus would've wanted to happen. I'm going to end your life," the Haxorus growled, his pace turning to a charge suddenly, his arms extended as if he wanted to strangle the Krookodile.

    Gerrick backed away a few more steps. He held up his hands in protest. "Hey, hold on now. We can work this out!" He cried out, but it didn't look like the Haxorus was in a talking mood. He swiftly began whipping up a miniature sandstorm within the closed area, which hopefully could derail Romulus a tad.

    "Of course we can," Romulus shouted, his voice strangely sibilant like a snake's, "just lay down, and I'll bury you with my own hands! That'll settle things for everyone."

    "Like hell I'm dyin' after just goin' free!" Gerrick responded, as he strengthened the sandstorm in the enclosed area. Being one of his signature attacks and his best way to make a getaway, Gerrick was able to blow one powerful enough at that moment to cause the visibility between Romulus and the Krookodile to all but vanish. The sandstorm tore at everything with ferocity, and left little to be witnessed. During the intensity of his attack, Gerrick turned a corner and made his getaway, using his attack as cover.

    Romulus was impaired by the sudden sandstorm, his charge faltering as he brought his hands to his face to protect his eyes. However, he didn't stop, he ran outside the cell like a madman. In the dark corridor of the dungeon, sand swirled, blocking anything from view. Romulus thought he saw his brother's shadow making a dash for the stairs, so he, too, rushed after him, leaping over the obscure bump of a corpse of a Nidoking guard he had slain before. On his way up the stairs, he came across bodies of other guards he'd downed silently to get to Gerrick's cell, but now he was regretting he hadn't left anyone alive to impede Gerrick's progress.

    He followed the Krookodile to the roof of the building; the prisons of Amoon were built into the trunk of the giant tree that lorded above the village. Romulus saw his brother across the roof of the prisons, gaining ground.

    Gerrick looked down below him to see the position of Romulus in relation to him. He gave his brother a sheepish grin, and then placed his hand up above his brow to give the Haxorus a quick salute. He then continued up through the giant tree before skidding across the branches to and through the ends to hopefully put the prison, and Amoon, behind him for good.

    Romulus went after him. He stuck his claws in the tree's trunk like nails and pulled himself upwards, like his brother was doing. The tree itself was massive in size, probably one of the biggest on Exathor, with a two-mile wide trunk and several dozens of feet in height. This was the tree that rose above the village, its huge, palm-like leaves blocking the snow from reaching the ground during the winter and lay a comfortable shadow during the summer.

    The Haxorus was breathing heavily as he climbed to the top. The sounds of the battle below grew more distant the higher they went. Near the top of the tree, the branches were dry from the snow and naked of any leaves. The top branches that protruded outwards to the sky were thick enough for Gerrick and Romulus to stand in. Romulus stood on his feet, breathless, his heart pounding and his chest rising up and down with each of his breaths; he never tired like this on the battlefield. He bet his brother thought he couldn't make it after him, but he had.

    As far and as fast as Gerrick climbed, he couldn't outrun his brother, who came up behind him. Gerrick cursed under his breath and made his way a bit further forward before he realized he stood upon the edges of one of the taller branches with not much else to go but down. Even if he attempted to do that, he doubted he would have gone very far. With a deep sighed in between his panting breaths, Gerrick turned to try and, Arceus-forbid, reason with his brother.

    "Look," He began to say, his breath harsh and heavy just as his brother's was. "We can... work this out... right? There's no reason this has... to go this way."

    Romulus stood still, quickly catching up to his breath. Gerrick wasn't so quick to recover. After his brother spoke, Romulus stepped towards him and the claws of his right hand burst in dragonfire with a characteristic sound. With one jerky move, he grabbed the back of the Krookodile's neck with his left hand to stabilize him and brought the fiery claws of his right under the long chin, ready to tear him from throat to belly.

    "End of the line. Have you any last words?" he mocked behind ground teeth, "I'll be glad to hear 'em."

    Gerrick's eyes instantly widened at his brother's threatening move toward his neck. He realized at that moment just how severe his situation was. His mind began racing with a thousand different thoughts at once, most of them with some plan to try and weasel his way out of the situation. He began to think of anything to say to get himself out of his situation. Finally, he closed his eyes and blurted whatever sounded most logical at that intense moment.

    "I know who the Caretaker is!"

    That gave Romulus halt. The flames on his claws still blazed, but otherwise everything was still. The Haxorus himself was thinking quickly on his feet, his eyes driven past his brother and into the cloudy sky. But his grip never tightened. "The Caretaker?" he repeated in a steady, although surprised tone, his brows smirked as his gaze returned to Gerrick. He was wary of lies that may come out of his mouth. "What of him?"

    "I know who the Caretaker is," Gerrick repeated again, this time a bit more steadily. His eyes wandered to claws which were still dangerously close to his neck, but he retreated his gaze to his brother. "Or rather, I know where he is. You could say I'm workin' for him."

    Romulus stared at Gerrick, as if calculating the odds of him lying against the value of the information he may actually know. "You're lying," he decided.

    "That's your call to make," Gerrick replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders, what he would be allowed that is with Romulus' claws so close. "What I do know is that the Caretaker is a friggin' genius beyond measure. And more dangerous than most would give him credit for. I could easily enough take ya to him and you could deal with him however you want," Gerrick cleared his throat before continuing again.

    "No one else can offer you that, I'm betting," He continued with a bit more confidence than he originally started. "A free shot at the big guy himself. And what's the worst that could happen if I'm lyin'? I try to escape, ya kill me. I jerk ya around too much, and you would probably kill me too. I don't lead ya to who you want... and, well ya get the idea. Are you really gonna risk this chance when you could always just kill me later if I'm lyin'? I guarantee if ya do, it'll sit in yer mind forever."

    Romulus's features were drawn in distaste, his pupils dilated so much his eyes were dark, his gaze demanding. He was almost sure his brother was lying to him - how could a simple thief like him possibly be working with a person who did not reveal himself even to the leaders of the Crimson Crusade? But that's what worried him: a simple thief would not have known of this man, whom Gerrick seemed to know how to describe, nor his title, which so few had heard of. Gerrick seemed to have valuable information that would make him useful for the start of Romulus's investigation, and if he was fortunate, the end of it.

    The dragon-type was put between great conflict; he was torn between which family to serve. His blood's family, or...? If he killed Gerrick to retain the honor of their fallen brother Shadowrend, whom Gerrick had so brazenly impersonated, he would lose his only lead to the identity of the Caretaker... and time was straining him. He had to know who was behind all this. With this in mind, the dragonfire on his claws dissipated in the air, its source put out. Gerrick was going to live. For the time being.

    Romulus's eyes calmed, his face loosened, but the distaste for his brother remained there. He let go of the back of the Krookodile's neck. "Bastard," he hissed, "Alonsus would've killed you twice. 'Family is everything.'"
     

    KajiVenator

    The Flame Huntzman
    182
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  • Team Tundra's First Victory...?
    Isak Mategu, Petrina Levitt]​

    It was an almost imperceptible noise over that of the ventilation system. The quickened scuttling of a guilty party attempting to flee the scene of an attack he or she attempted on Team Boot. Isak was infuriated to admit it, but the b*stard had managed to sneak up on him. Him! What good was his hearing if he was allowing his teammates to get ambushed like that? He was not about to let the perpetrator escape.

    As quick as it was trying to flee, Isak had no difficulty getting ahead of it. It was a slow pace, a series of methodical scratches, each more infuriating than the last. The noise ground at him, a feeling of guilt bubbling up with each step... He had to put that away and just... act.

    Options... options...

    He rustled in his bag, and found one of his Bright Powder Bombs. He had stored a few in the small bag before this hellish day began, and was down to merely three, but it could be handy.

    He turned his attention back to the wall. Now he had to draw the b*stard out. Isak began to tap his foot.

    It was not like the attacker would willingly exit if Isak opened a hatch. It would probably run, or attack if it knew it was being hunted. Isak hated either possibility. What if... it was forced out of the vent? What if Isak didn't give it a chance to react in the first place? He looked at the hatch of the ventilation shaft and discerned the thickness of the ventilation shaft wall... It wasn't that thick. This could work!

    Time was running short, however, as the scuttling grew closer to the vent near Isak. Placing his bag on the ground, he took up a running stance and readied himself for the upcoming assault with a countdown. Three... two... one! His feet propelled him like a rocket as he jumped at the vent, his ears momentarily making contact with the wall before launching himself away with a Rock Smash. He only airborne for a moment afterwards, the force knocking him back onto the floor where he pushed back and launched himself at the newly formed hole in the wall.

    There was a loud crunch when Isak hit it. The impact had killed the target, and it was spurting out a disgusting green blood from its shattered orange exoskeleton. The giant bulb on its back, dented from the impact, was distinctive enough to cause Isak to fall back out of the vent in a panic. Parasect spores were extremely toxic and fast-acting, and now he was covered in them. He had to quickly ingest Lum Berry, lest the fungus took another host. He rushed to his bag, grabbed one of the super-hard berries and began to chew it, His body began to shake as he swallowed, becoming numb, and he could feel himself quickly getting drowsy. He could only hope he ate the berry in time as he slumped forward and lost consciousness.

    * * *

    "Listen up!" Petrina's voice rang out. "I like what you've done, taking some of these guys alive, Tundra, but I'm afraid that's not necessary. Finish them off and we'll move on."

    "What?" came the voice of an incredulous Sneasel. "Why-"

    "Because it's kinder than to leave them in a burning airship plummeting to the ground!"

    "Bu-"

    "I'm tired of being second-guessed, get on my page or get off these ships now!" Petrina stamped her front paw to punctuate her point.

    The young Otori Sneasel looked down mournfully at the long-surrendered Growlithe they'd somehow managed to subdue. "Sorry about this..." It all seemed to be too much for him though. Although he rested his claw against the neck of the Growlithe, he stood hesitating for moments that turned into seconds. Maybe a quarter of a minute had passed before he moved again, spinning around and raking the back of his claw across the Glaceon's face. "I'm not doing it! He's surrendered, he doesn't need to die!"

    Petrina stared back with her jaw agape. Did one of her soldiers just have the audacity to... hit her? Seemingly at a loss for words, she took the situation into her own paws - it was a simple matter to her as long as her soldiers weren't getting the job done. Just one swift moment for her to create a razor sharp spear in crystal ice and drive it home into her target's neck, as the Sneasel stared on in horror and she turned back to him, some of the Growlithe's blood on her face. "Listen, kid. You're on my team, you follow my orders! We don't have a kinder option, they either die quickly now or fear their horrible deaths in a burning airship when we drive it into the ground-"

    "They're all too weak to fight! Dump them on the ground!" The voice came from the Absomsnow who had first smashed his way into the ship. "He's right, we can keep them alive!"

    "We don't have time to play with!" Petrina protested, but she quickly realised she'd have to submit to the team's wishes if she didn't want them to "Augh, just do it your way, and quickly! Gather up everyone still breathing and get them overboard, stat!"

    "You lot heard the lady, grab the prisoners and get up to the deck!" Shouted the Abomasnow, relieved.

    ...

    Petrina and Team Tundra arrived back in the sub-deck. "There's only one way left to go, that should lead to the bridge. Then we can take this thing and blo-" Petrina cut herself short when she noticed two things as they rejoined with Team Boot. Firstly, neither Isak nor his little Frogadier buddy were anywhere to be seen. Second, something was seriously wrong with Boot. At the very least, the well seemed to be tending to the wounded. "Someone. Please explain what has happened." It wasn't immediately obvious if it was further anger or fear creeping its way into her voice, but it had become cold and deliberate. This was never meant to be a cakewalk for sure but it was quickly spiralling way out of control.

    "It's nothing we can't shake off!" came the response from a Plusle. "Just a Stun Spore, we'll be on our feet again soon enough!"

    The problem for Petrina was that 'soon enough' wasn't soon enough.

    "Your impatience is strong, but 'soon enough' is most assuredly soon. Those who took the worst of it were saved by Isak's quick orders," came the voice of a comparatively calm Hypno.

    "And would you care to tell me exactly where Isak is?" Petrina glared back.

    "He ran off down the hall, looking for the attacker I believe. He hasn't come back yet." The Hypno had thought about going to find Isak himself, but had not yet worked up the courage.

    Reckless... but I can't worry about him. I have to keep focused! "Alright." Petrina was regulating her breaths trying not to snap. Her face was still smarting. "If you guys are out of commission for now that means we have to take the bridge alone."

    "I assure you, those not paralyzed will gladly assist." As calm as the Glaceon attempted to appear, the Hypno could read her like a book. "Yes, let's see... you five, accompany us to the bridge. The rest, ensure the safety of the incapacitated."

    "Okay, let's get it done and blow this ship. We've already been here way too long!" Petrina called out to the team. There had been three choices where to go when they arrived, Boot had taken one and Tundra the other, leaving one route left that had to be the correct one.

    Team Tundra and their backup slowly marched down the corridors of the ship, heading up towards the bow section of the airship - marching directly into a particular Buneary... lying on the floor, snoring. To call Petrina unimpressed would make for an understatement. Time for delicacy was frightfully short with the rabbit's arousal, so she resorted to a simple kick in the small of Isak's back; not enough to injure, but to give him a sharp shock back to reality.

    Isak shot off like rocket at the kick, smacking his forehead on the wall of the hallway. He slowly stumbled backwards, falling on his back directly in front of Petrina, his eyes resembling spirals as they spun.

    "Was that really necessary, miss? I'm sure I could have woke him up without that result," came the voice of the Hypno, again.

    "It was quicker. And this is not the first time I have had to wake this slacker." Petrina coldly responded. "How about next time you try and not go nap-time in the middle of enemy territory, Isak?" She said, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

    "Woah! Check out that hole in the wall!" The Plusle sounded thrilled at the sight.

    "What's that green stuff coming out of it?" Another voice spoke up, this one belonging to a Minun.

    The twin voices drew the Hypno's attention away from Petrina. It wasn't long before she had put up another Safeguard. "Get away from the wall, you two! Everyone get away from that thing."

    "It's already dead. Not hurting anyone." Petrina grumbled. She nodded towards the Hypno. "Keep close to him and watch your step. We need to press on, now." Turning her head forward, she looked down at Isak. "That includes you."

    Eyes still spinning, Isak muttered "Yes mother" in response.

    The Minun spoke up again. "Maybe one of us should carry him until he's normal?"

    "He only took a little bump on the head. He'll be fine." Petrina responded, trying to sound reassuring. "Help him onto his feet, but if he can't walk on his own, send him back to the land. He's just going to be a liability to us and to himself in this state."

    "We'll help, right sis?" mused the Plusle. Her Minun sister was already standing next to Petrina, having grabbed one of Isak's paws and was tugging on it. The Plusle dashed over and grabbed his other paw, helping her sister pull Isak into a standing position, resting on both of their shoulders. In unison, the pair happily chimed "Ready!"

    "I still don't see him walking... Let's get moving, we're taking too much time here! Isak, on your feet by the time we get there!" Petrina couldn't afford a liability in the team. If he wasn't walking, he had to go. She, and the rest of the team proceeded onwards, until the small corridor could be seen terminating. The room beyond looked to have some navigation equipment and seemed unmonned. "There's gotta be guys in there. Watch out and make sure we don't get jumped..." Petrina whispered.

    "I'm sure Artin took care of them by now," Isak whispered back, far more alert than earlier but still being aided by the sisters. "Ow, my head..."

    "Quit complaining, Isak. Also, you're not telling me one guy got that room clear. We're going to have to think of a way to bust whatever ambush they might have in there." Petrina mused. "Shock and awe. They don't expect us to charge in, they want to take us by surprise. I'll go in first. Go in fast and make a lot of noise!" She threw herself in, yelling at the top of her voice, sliding in on ice, ready for any 'mon who might be waiting for her.

    "Excellent technique, Vanguard. I am loving the way you are skating on the ice like that," came a voice from nearby the door. "Shock and awe probably would have been a good plan, if there was anyone to shock or awe. Well, besides me. I am awed. I see you already collected your gold medal."

    Petrina looked somewhat perturbed by the Frogadier's presence, continuing to slide across the floor. "Sir, your wit! It knows no bounds! Now, can thy face before I can it for you." She hit the end of her ice trail and stopped dead, looking around. "How'd you clear this place out yourself?"

    The Frogadier spoke quickly. "Does the 'how' really matter? I mean, it took you so long to get here I could have probably flown us to another ship by now. Well, I did try that, but the engines won't start. Probably a minor technical issue. We'll have to send someone down to the engine room to check it out and look for any signs of sabotage. We won't be getting this bird off the ground any time before then."

    "They're cold. We had to throw around a lot of snow and ice to get it clear." Petrina confirmed to him.

    "Just cold? Someone has to go down there and warm them up, then." Artin momentarily stopped talking and looked at the Pokemon standing in the hallway. "A bunch of Ice-types, and half of Boot? And not the half with the Pignite, I see. Wherever he is, he should get down to the engine room and undo whatever damage you did down there with your ice."

    Gently shaking loose from the grip of the Plusle and Minun, Isak spoke up. "I'll go get him, Artin. Where is the engine room from up here?"

    "If you go all the way down the stairs, you'll get there eventually," came the shaky voice of the Sneasel from Team Tundra. "Just be careful of all the... blood."

    "Okay... I guess. Thanks for the warning. I'll get those engines warmed up as soon as possible." Isak dashed off past the rest of the team with that, going at a slightly slower pace than normal.

    Artin spoke up after Isak left. "Speaking of warmth, Isak didn't look too hot. Did something happen that I should know about..?"

    "He got reckless and charged ahead of us and for all his hard work ended up on the wrong side of a mushroom." Petrina nodded. "It'd be a fantastic idea if he didn't do that again."

    [It was not long before Team Tundra and Team Boot had, much more smoothly, comandeered a handful more ships.]
     
    Last edited:

    Plumbum

    The Dandy Highwayman (That You're Too Scared to Me
    101
    Posts
    9
    Years
  • Hallucinations

    Brynjolf was shot backwards by a sudden shock wave that made the steel parts of his body screech; the soft, fragile body of the Wise Master had left his grip from the abruptness of the attack. The heavy Mega Aggron rolled on the deck with a speed that would break a lesser Pokemon's neck, punching holes through the wood and almost falling belowdecks. Across the deck, where the sudden force had sent him flying to, his whole body was ringing painfully, like a giant bell, from the strike that found him from below. He was on the verge of consciousness and he couldn't comprehend how a Mienshao, untrained in the ways of the warrior, could produce a blast that would lift Brynjolf, the heaviest fighter in the Realm, from his feet and hurl him several feet away. No man who had fought him could manage that, and those who he hadn't fought yet like Dareon couldn't, either.

    His head had been dislocated from the force of the impact. But it wasn't such a big deal, when you were wholly made of steel. Getting up slowly, he raised his arms, grasping his horn with one hand and the back of his head with the other, he twisted it into place with a steel sound, jaws ground strongly together. His sight quickly returned, and the ringing of his body faded. Staggering, he let his arms fall, held his head high and drew a breath; through his half shut, weary eyes, he could now see the one whose neck should have been twisted in the first place. But the Mienshao looked just as bad. He lay on the deck, back against the rail and one arm over it. His eyes were glazed, staring into space, and Brynjolf guessed he was semi conscious from the blast; blood stained crimson the fur of his chest and his breathing was ragged, heavy. The deck in front of him was burned black, shattered like a volcanic area after eruption.

    Brynjolf's attention slipped past the Wise Master and onto the crystal, on the center of the crater. It looked like a black heart, pulsing, growing and then returning to its size, or it could be the Aggron's imagination. This movement of the crystal, though, threw sparks in the air, which vanished right after. The buzz they made was the sound of energy that slipped from it to its surroundings, merging with the air. He would've thought it was electricity, but the color was all wrong: it was black, and it seemed to take away the light.

    "What the hell was that!" Brynjolf shouted, his wrath suddenly rising - no meek crystal was about to sweep him off his feet that easily and get away with it. Undaunted by the powerful blast the crystal was seemingly able to produce, the Aggron boldly stepped ahead, but he was cut off. Another dark pulse was shot from the crystal, hindering his approach. He raised his arm to protect his eyes. A thunder coming from the crystal rocked his ears.

    Once he looked again, he saw black lightning writhing violently against the Wise Master's head. It connected the crystal with the Mienshao's eyes, which had turned to the back of his head. Shadows popped amidst the loud buzzing, circling the deck where the snowflakes, frozen in time, hovered in the air that was thick with darkness. The shadows were fighting with each other, the Aggron noticed, and he could hear their angry, frantic voices, although distant. There was one shadow prevalent, huge in size and closest to the pale Wise Master. The others faded, and he became more solid; Brynjolf could immediately tell that Pokemon was mighty.

    Tall like a closet, there were stalagmites on his shoulders and stalactites on his beard; as the shadow took form, the thick muscles on his arms started showing. Brynjolf was about to say something, but his words were caught on his throat. He thought he was seeing the Crown Prince himself before him; the Beartic that had emerged from the shadow could have been him... but it wasn't. This Beartic's eyes, both the iris and the whites were completely black and cruel. Scars and wrinkles below them spoke of old age. The man had an iron spiked bracelet and a belt that held his massive belly in; the excessive fur of his head was tied in a pigtail. His fists were tightened, body in battle stance, his breath coming out, frosting the air while the dark pooled beneath his legs. The other shadows faded into obscurity after the figure was made clear.

    Brynjolf felt what he hadn't felt in years: fear. A destructive crystal was something he thought he could put up with. A crystal that brought back the dead was not to be trifled. The manifestation's bold gaze was subduing on its own. The very aura of this Pokemon was speaking of his remorselessness.

    Besides the unconscious Mienshao with the pale fur on the rail stood Ingvar, the Conqueror of Exathor. Rumored to be unstoppable, this man was Brynjolf's model ever since he was young and honing his battling skills in Telmor's palace.

    "My will be done," Ingvar spoke, bending his legs and raising one palm in a fighter's battle stance.

    Fearful as Brynjolf was, he was also stupidly brave. "What do you will?" he asked, bending his legs as well, ready for combat.

    "My heir, unharmed. Remove yourself from this vessel."

    "You're gonna have to remove me," Brynjolf said. It's just a ghost, he told himself, only a shadow of the memory of a person.

    He was preparing an attack - an Iron Head, which he knew was super effective - when the barriers quaked with the strange sound psychic distortion creates; the Aggron jerked his head to the side of the airship, getting a glimpse of what was happening. He was puzzled at what he saw. Pokemon who shouldn't be flying were just outside, attacking the barriers of the Hesperian flagship with ice-type attacks, some of which got through, albeit diminished and failing without really harming the airship.

    "Keep firing! We're nearly through!" came the call of the Glaceon from the deck of the stolen airship. By now, the teams had been battered hard, there had been losses. Hell, the fact they'd made it this far was just as much luck as judgement. But now, Team Tundra had come knocking at the door of the flagship.

    The ghost in front of Brynjolf hadn't registered the presence of Team Tundra; he brought down an Avalanche on Brynjolf, completely burying him in snow. Grunting, he shook his head violently and unleashed a Metal Burst back at Ingvar; the shimmering projectile hit him in the chest, leaving a massive, steaming hole through him. That attack would've killed a normal, perhaps weaker Beartic. Emperor Ingvar looked down at it and a stream of darkness erupted from the Dark Star beside him, filling the hole with flesh yet again. Brynjolf was daunted, then, truly, because the Avalanche was real.

    "Perfect work, Tundra! I can see a weak-spot forming!" Petrina considered twice before she gave the order. She could see the enemy fighting amongst themselves - surely it would be more prudent that they let them exhaust themselves fighting each other, then sweep in and pick up whoever was left. "Alright, be ready Tundra! On my signal, lend me your strength and we'll bust that barrier! Ready?" The team seemed to be done dissenting for now, they formed up on Petrina. "Fire!" Petrina could feel the energy of the other Ice-type mons coursing through her - what would have been a normal Ice Beam carried power that would make a Hyper Beam blush! The psychic shield was struck in the weakspot Tundra had built up; it didn't stand a chance under the assault. In a fantastic psychic distortion, the deflective field collapsed in on itself. "Alright, good! That's how we do it!" Petrina cooed. "Now, don't cross yet, wait until my order! Stratagem Number 9... let's watch them fight and pick off whichever one wins..." Petrina's mind was set on the crystal. There was no doubt that was her objective now, and taking it from an already-exhausted warrior would be far easier. Aside that, Tundra needed to take whatever rest they could get.

    The remnants of the ice beam that breached the barrier zoomed above Brynjolf and Ingvar's head. The two Pokemon, Aggron and Beartic, paid little attention to Team Tundra. They were locked in close combat, delivering heavy physical blows and retaliating with their strongest moves. Type wise, Brynjolf had the advantage, and every one of his moves blasted a hole through the Beartic's body - whether it was on his chest, or on his shoulder; one blow split the Beartic's head in two, but every time, he was made whole again through the dark, like an unwavering image of something very still. Ingvar wasn't very fast, but his attacks were fierce and they left dents on the Aggron's body. If he didn't have the defense a Mega Aggron should have, the Conqueror would have beaten him to a pulp already.

    Lord Brynjolf prepared himself, raising his head, then charged, bringing it down in a Head Smash with all his strength. Normally, this would have blown the Beartic off his feet, no matter how heavy, but the darkness of the eternal ghost preserved him and kept on his feet through unnatural means. The Aggron grunted in dismay, recoiling from his most powerful attack. The Beartic's arm, in response to the Head Smash, had started glowing white with an unearthly power. The ghost had fought silently all this time, neither grunting in pain or fury, but now he let a great roar followed by an uppercut that smashed through Brynjolf's steel armor and knocked him off his feet, shooting him across the deck; his whole body rang like a bell. That was the attack that had been used against him, the only attack that could injure him seriously: Superpower.

    Brynjolf didn't let himself fall to sleep. He blinked, blood trickling down his mouth and he got up almost immediately afterwards; the strain was taking a toll on the muscles hidden beneath his steel armor. But Ingvar's ghost was relentless; he progressed quickly, with no sign of injury on his part. Brynjolf realized then it was impossible to win; he was up against a foe who would merely flinch for a moment at his strongest attack. He glanced quickly towards the crystal, which was fueling this menace's strength. Then he saw the same stream of darkness that healed the manifestation, connecting the Dark Star with its wielder, the Wise Master, who had fallen against the rails and was watching the battle of the beasts breathless, wounded on the chest, as the snow piled up on his shoulders and head.

    The Aggron gathered his strength in a desperate attack that Rethlor wouldn't see coming - his Metal Burst. He'd used it before, but it had flown off the airship. Now as he got up and staggered, he dropped his jaws and unleashed the burst again at Ingvar. The amount of damage he'd taken from the Superpower enhanced the effectiveness of the attack, and also its size. The shimmering cloud of energy that was shot blasted through the image of Ingvar, evaporating it - only for a moment. He would return. But the blast continued its course, shooting through the ghost. Too late the Wise Master realized it was coming towards him; his mouth opened in a scream that never escaped his throat. The shimmering light crashed on the deck with a steel crack, sending wood and steel in the air like fireworks, and the Mienshao was shot overboard, to fall to his death in the ensuing battle below.

    The Dark Star was flung a few feet away from the explosion, spinning on the deck with a ringing sound. The stream snapped. Ingvar fell to his knees, his mouth opened, as if he was going to scream, but no sound came out. The mighty conqueror dispersed into darkness that faded in the air. Brynjolf, too, fell forward, wounded and exhausted, struggling to breathe through the thick haze.

    Petrina had watched the battle, the apparition of Ingvar with her jaw agape. Even as the battle finished, she took a second to come to her senses, but when she did, she knew now was the perfect time. "Move it! Boarding actions!" By the number of times it had been done by now, Tundra had their special boarding action down to a tee. Each one of them, in what might appear as a moment of pure insanity hopped gleefully over the edge of their airship, hovering in the air for just a second - but the insanity became clear soon after. Every one of them produced a solid slide of ice, slipping down it to traverse the gap between the ships. In some other situation, Petrina may have called it "fun". She slid down a flash-built slide on her back, creating a small lip at the end that would launch her directly onto the deck, but she had miscalculated. She'd launched herself too high, landing painfully on her side, knocking the wind straight out of her. She had to ignore the pain. She stood up, quickly shooting her eyes around the deck, catching her bearings, looking for the fallen Dark Star and the Aggron that would probably try to stop her from stealing it.

    Brynjolf raised his head. The Glaceon was wearing a golden necklace; she was from the Gold Tribe. Now, he knew it was a fight to the death for him. He didn't want to be captured again! He charged to the Dark Star, believing it would help him against her, but she was closer.

    It's mine this time! Petrina ignored her breath having left her, she picked herself onto all fours and charged down on the crystal at the ground. But she knew it wouldn't be of any immediate use to her after before. She huffed out a cloud of Powder Snow, but didn't use it to attack Brynjolf directly, instead slinging the stinging snow dead at the charging mon's eyes!

    The snow barely slowed down the Aggron's advance, but it hit his eyes and it stung; he dove blindly towards the general direction of the crystal.

    "Too bad!" Petrina, perhaps unwisely, taunted the Aggron as he swung wide of the Dark Star, jumping past his flailing arm, biting down hard on the Dark Star to claim it as her own. Immediately, she felt that same pain in her skull she had felt before, as if she'd just attended a party of a thousand Loudred. It made her cringe, and not having to immediately release the crystal revealed to her that it didn't stop hurting after a few seconds either.

    Petrina had grabbed the crystal, but she was dangerously close to the Mega Aggron, who rose to his feet after recovering from his mad charge. "Snow kitty," he grumbled, "give me that!"

    "No way!" She shouted back, muffled by the crystal. She was, like Brynjolf himself, beaten bad just getting here... if he swung right now, she'd be done for, but she was determined he wouldn't get the chance. She'd seen the power of the Dark Star, felt it herself not once but twice. If anything was getting her out of this mess, it'd be the same thing that had dragged her into it.

    Petrina gave Brynjolf her entire focus, her eyes drilling towards him. That is your target. She willed at the crystal, unsure if it would even react to her. Your power is mine now and so are your enemies!

    The crystal responded. It began with a small rumble, the crystal shaking in Petrina's mouth. Trying to control it, she bit down on the crystal harder and was rewarded with a jabbing pain. Whether it was the crystal giving her mental or physical pain, it didn't matter any more. The shaking and the pain spent the next few seconds growing more and more intense, as if it was trying to rip itself free from her, until finally she was granted unconsciousness as her release.

    She was plunged into a world of darkness, falling and falling in a bottomless pit. Around her, shadows of memories swirled, so unclear that she could not comprehend them. Voices filled her head; angry, frantic and arguing people. One phrase she caught was, "let me talk to her," and then someone screamed, "never!"

    The floor rushed to meet her. It was grey stone, comfortably cold beneath her; liquid darkness was dripping from indents between the stones on the wall, and a black cloud was eerily floating beside her. Inside the cloud, the formless shadows were arguing in distress, striking at each other. The outline of the stalactites on Ingvar's shoulders gave his shadow away; he wasn't fighting, though, he was kneeling on the floor, wounded. "Mine," one of the angry voices hissed, and another one followed it, but right then, they ceased all at once. A roaring gust rushed in the dark room, and a black shadow touched the ground in front of Petrina. The blob of darkness was all poured into the materialization of this person, whose presence had sent the air rushing in the room.

    This man was wearing a black robe that covered his entire body, tied with a red sash around his waist. His head was hooded, but past it, what little light remained in the room made apparent a round, steel mask with only two holes for his eyes: two eyes that burned green with a golden ring on their center.

    He stood at about five feet, and he seemed to be a feline creature through movement alone. He kneeled close to the fallen Petrina, lifting the golden pendant of the Gold Tribe in his two black claws, a bit of his white fur showing at the end of the long, black sleeves of his robe.

    "The Gold Tribe," the man muttered, more to himself than her. His voice sounded old, his eyes returned on her, looking at her wearily and as if he pitied her. He helped her gently on her feet.

    Petrina, for the first time in a long while was lost for words. She expected that she should be surprised, but she simply couldn't find the energy any more. As she was helped to her feet, she looked around the blackness around her, as if it could give her answers. Either... either she had been drawn into that crystal... or Brynjolf had killed her and the afterlife was weird... She had a figure in front of her to ask. The one she had seen just minutes before - some kind of apparition from that same crystal she now bore. "Never mind the Tribe." She began at the hooded figure. "Who are you and where am I?"

    The hooded man got up at the same time as Petrina, and when she spoke, he turned around him with a swift, graceful motion, spreading his arm as if to show her. "This is the crystal's confines. I believe it is a very accurate replica of the real world that faithfully represents our senses. Kind of like you're dreaming. Oh, you are in a dream, only it isn't you who's dreaming, it's the crystal. You and I are... mere manifestations of a cruel, twisted imagination that doesn't stem from a person, but from a power: the power held within this crystal. For people, it may take years to delve into one's soul. For the crystal, it takes only your touch. It knows you now, and it dreams of you."

    The man in the mask was quiet only for a second. When he spoke, a smile could be heard in his voice. "It sounds disquieting, I know, and you might be in grave danger, but I'll do what I can to help you out. As for who I am," he said, as he was sitting on the floor; first his put his hand on it and slowly descended, like an old man sitting atop a grassy hill. He grunted. "I was one of the Wielders. Those people you heard, fighting like birds over a bread crumb? They were the others. Many kinds of people of all types and castes, some worthy, some hopeless, some arrogant, some scared of their own power. The fearless and the insane, they all were carved into the crystal's abyssal memory, including me. And why is it that you find yourself speaking to me, of all these people? Well, if we began to answer that question, we would have to start with what I want. Vigilant, we all watch what happens to this crystal, and we take sides on who's the worthier to wield it; if they are not at all worthy, we dispose of him. Some of them do not want you as the new master of the crystal, and subsequently, their master, but I do. I see courage in you."

    Petrina closed her eyes, she took deep breaths. She forced herself to remain calm, a task that became more difficult by the second. She knew there was more to the crystal than she could see from her first contact with it, but she hadn't expected to be drawn in and judged by it. She let the silence hang whilst she calmed her voice and mind before she spoke back. "Then show me those who object. I do not need to hear those who already support me. If you all know who I am, you know that I seek the same as you, I do not wish for a power of this magnitude to fall to the hands of those who would abuse it. Your dissenters need to be made to see that first-hand if they disbelieve me."

    The hooded Pokemon leaned back on his arms as he sat cross-legged. He shook his head lightly, as if disapproving. "When you find a rock amidst the stormy sea that is trying to drown you, you do not jump back in the water... but if that is what you wish."

    Petrina shook her head. "Clinging on to a rock gets you nowhere. The turbulent sea can wash you ashore."

    The figure shook his head again gravely, as if he knew she was condemned already. The insides of the robes dispersed into shadow, leaving them empty, and they soon faded, too. The cloud of darkness had returned, only now it had circled around Petrina, forming a ring. Shadows of varying sizes became almost solid around her.

    "Ahh," a gentle voice spoke, "the bitch wants to talk."

    "Mine," was heard.

    "How dare she?" Someone snapped.

    Three of the shadows were still fighting unintelligibly, talking in a completely different language, paying no attention to Petrina or the others.

    "I reckon this will be good," a softer voice spoke, but it seemed to belong to a massive Pokemon that dwarfed Petrina. "She is a nice change of pace from the Mienshao... I wonder for how long. Haha!"

    "You, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into," someone whispered, although there was no empathy in his tone; on the contrary, he sounded threatening.

    "Perhaps I don't." She responded. "But the consequences to myself are irrelevant. This crystal holds power that could save people I love and care for. For that, I will face whatever tortures it feels fit to dole out." She couldn't hide the hint of fear in her voice. She was fully at the mercy of these shadows, but still she had to face up to them.

    "An honorable one!" the soft giant spoke.

    "She wants to save the people she loves and cares for," the sibilant, threatening voice mused in a mocking tone.

    "Mine. Mine!" a shadow tossed on the floor as another one was saying, "and how exactly is it you plan on doing that?"

    Petrina considered lying to the shadows, making up something on the spot. The truth of the matter was she didn't have plans for this. She never could have plans for this. She still needed to give them something, however... "Look around the world. The Gold Tribe is losing this war we're in. Perhaps, for once in my life I have no specific plan. But a relic such as this makes my worth as a soldier grow, makes me stronger and every advantage we have over the rebels is a chance for my friends to survive. Exactly what part this crystal has to play in this war is yet to be revealed, but I have no doubt it has one."

    "Of course," the giant shadow mused, "power. We've all been there. Like Rethlor, here. Fascinating to see yet one more who seeks to use the crystal."

    "It won't happen," someone decided right off the bat. "Have Brynjolf kill her for her insolence."

    "Too much has already been done for Brynjolf," a shadow snapped.

    There was one shadow in front of Petrina that was easily recognizable: that of Ingvar's. He was kneeling on the floor, clutching his chest. "The Gold Tribe, to be granted this power?" the Conqueror's deep voice sounded. "Never, for as long as I am remembered." He got up to his feet, and suddenly, his featureless shadow grew huge, walking towards her. He put emphasis into each word that came out of his mouth. "I will do everything I can to see you buried beneath snow, and not the snow which your kind can survive. Wield this gem any longer, or give it to one of your comrades, I dare you, for my memory will haunt you forever then."

    The cloud was poured into the Conqueror, and for a single moment, Petrina could see the Beartic's features, drawn with age and evil, before she was lifted into the darkness.
     

    Plumbum

    The Dandy Highwayman (That You're Too Scared to Me
    101
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  • Team Tundra Goes Down
    Brynjolf Grimsnauk, Petrina Levitt, Isak Mategu


    The deck quaked with the crystal; Brynjolf fell on his four to stop himself from doubling over. The Glaceon seemed to have fallen unconscious; he thought that was his chance, but then he realized that in the quake, he'd lost his Mega form, somehow. "Damnation," he muttered getting on his feet for the third time, his muscles under great strain. The Glaceon still lay unconscious before him, with the crystal lodged between her teeth. "Little kitty," he grunted with rage, "I knew you were trouble." He advanced against her raising his arm, preparing to strike at her.

    He did not anticipate a small brown bullet slamming into that arm. The impact was more than enough to knock away the three-pronged claw of the Aggron, before the bullet bounced off and landed on the deck, rolling until it hopped and unfurled into a small Pokemon in a fighting stance, a small gold bangle gleaming on its arm. The Buneary locked eyes with the Aggron it had just garnered the attention of, before issuing a command at it. "Get away from that Glaceon now."

    Brynjolf staggered in place after Isak's attack, then roared in dismay. The crystal was getting away from him. "I'll crush you," he bellowed to the Buneary and charged at him recklessly in a Head Smash that would reduce his foe to dirt.

    ...If he stood in place and took the blow. Isak had gotten on all fours and returned the gesture, charging at the rampaging Aggron. Were they to meet in direct combat, Isak would probably lose, but the Buneary had one thing that the worn-down Aggron did not. When the Aggron was less than a meter away, Isak changed direction just enough to run past the Aggron, then sharply turned to face its back, running at it with his fist enveloped in the bright orange flare of a Power-Up Punch.

    The punch hit Brynjolf on the back, pushing him forward. The air went out of his lungs; up until then, he hadn't realized how much battling had tired him out. He was trained to ignore the pain, but he, too, had his limit. With Isak's Power-Up Punch, he collapsed forward on the deck and he couldn't get up again.

    Was it really... that easy? The Aggron didn't even try to move its arms. It was just... laying there. Isak had half a mind to walk in front of it and see if it was trying to play dead or something. It wasn't doing a good job. Isak could hear its heavy panting... regardless of the possibility of faking defeat, there was a far more pressing matter at hand. Petrina... had warned him and Team Boot to stay on the other ship until the deck had been cleared of unfriendlies, even going so far as to tell Isak to keep their last commandeered ship a fair distance away to avoid crossfire.

    If he had followed that letter to the T, there probably wouldn't be a Petrina any longer. He drew himself away from the collapsed Aggron and briskly walked to the still body of the Glaceon. Why had she fallen like that? Her eyes were not closed, too. Was she dead? She had no external signs of damage... she was breathing normally. Definitely not dead. Aside from her eyes, the only thing off about her was the black crystal in her mouth. It was pulsating dark energy... black crystal, pulsating dark energy... what did it remind him of? Why did it seem so familiar to him?

    His thoughts were interrupted by an explosion which rocked the ship. Heart racing, he looked over at the Aggron again. He... hadn't moved an inch. This wasn't good. Explosions on an airship probably were not good signs at all. He had to do something, get Petrina off of this ship as quickly as possible. He looked up at where Team Tundra had been providing covering Ice Beam fire... Where was the rest of Team Tundra!? They weren't above the ship any longer. Perfect. Absolutely, bloody perfect. No ice bridge to safety.

    Flames roared upwards off the side of the deck as Isak swore at the absence of Team Tundra. They missed the deck, but it was a definite hit, the flames impacting the starboard balloon. The ship was under attack. Fantastic. The explosion made sense now. Still, not good. There were people alive on this ship, still. The firey attack soon ended, but Isak still heard the crackle of flames up near the balloon as one of the iron link chains fell away from the side of it.

    As another explosion rocked the ship, Isak hurriedly looked around. The ship was starting to vibrate now, and he could hear the telltale sounds of flames somewhere below-deck. There just wasn't a safe way off this ship any more, now that Team Tundra had saved their own asses.

    F*CK!

    The Aggron would probably live.That lucky b*stard was a living suit of armor, even if he was unconscious... he would survive the crash.... wait... that could work to his advantage! Without further thought, Isak grabbed one of Petrina's paws and pulled as hard as he could, tugging her over to the Aggron. He had to get her on top of him, before this ship either blew up entirely or hit the ground. His armor would protect her... maybe. He couldn't secure her to that Aggron, but it would have to do. He... could not do anything more to help her survive this ship.

    As for himself... there was only one option. He needed a running start. He crouched down, and put his front paws on the deck, tucking in his ears.

    Three... the balloon that had caught fire above was starting to hiss now.

    Two... a slight, almost imperceptible tilt began to appear as the gases leaked from the hole in the balloon.

    One... ah, f*ck it. Isak began to dash toward the rail of the ship, a white after-image following him as his Quick Attack amplified his speed. Three meters away from the rail, he pushed himself off the ship with his feet, quickly soared past it and looked down at the blurry forested land below him. His plan to survive the crash began now.

    * * *

    The smell of smoke was the first thing that brought Petrina back towards reality. She was still reeling from her very surreal experience, the threats brought about by the crystal's inhabitant, but as she came around, it dawned on her that she could smell smoke and probably had bigger issues to deal with. She became vaguely aware she was on some kind of metal surface, but even when she opened her eyes, she didn't see anything. She cursed her body. She didn't have the time to come around slowly...

    She tried to move, falling from whatever she had been laid on onto what felt like a wooden ground. It was a horrid realisation as she put the smoke smell and wooden deck together - even as her sight was coming back to her she had already figured. She was still on the airship, the ship was on fire and she had been left for dead! She could feel that she was far from upright - the ship must have been listing, just to make her life that little bit more difficult, yet she couldn't find the strength to even stand in spite of her situation. She cursed under her breath. She was going to die. After finally getting what she'd been chasing after, since she'd gained more power to help with she was going to die in a burning airship wreck.

    The ship tilted over further and further, and as Petrina finally felt enough strength return to her legs to stand up on, she immediately had to dive aside - under the ship's tilt, the hulk of metal she'd been laid on began to shift, sliding towards her. As it disappeared overboard, she recognised it as the same Aggron from before. Something had got him too...

    It wasn't long before the slope of the deck was too sheer for Petrina to cling on to anymore. Her claws stuck deep into the wooden deck, but surely, she was begining to slide downwards. Even though she knew clinging on was no good for her, the fear of the fall just made her grip tighter and tighter. She'd rip her claws out before she'd let go... but gravity's pull on her was about to do just that. The pain made her grit her teeth, which only reminded her exactly what she was keeping in her mouth.

    It was no good in her continuing to cling on. Her claws and forelegs screamed at her in pain. Don't look down. Close your eyes. Let go. Petrina thought, trying to reassure herself. Finally, she released herself to a great fall. The frost already appearing around her forelegs, she had to hope that an ice casing would be enough to see her land alive....

    * * *

    The ground was getting ever closer as Isak arced away from the ship. He could feel the wind getting quicker, likely a result of gravity increasing his downward velocity. Adding to his already fast horizontal velocity, he was probably not going to enjoy waking up tomorrow... if he woke up. Not the right time to have these thoughts.

    What was good to think about, then? Probably the ground. Yeah, that's a good idea. Why not focus on the green and brown expanse rising up to meet him? What was his plan, anyway? Leave Petrina on a crashing, burning ship while he just jumps off it and bounces around. Fan. Tastic.

    She might be okay. She might be okay. In truth, he couldn't know if she would be okay, but he needed to stop thinking about her. In fact, he should stop panicking entirely. This was just like the drills at the ECUL, only much higher and without the landing pad at the end. Not to mention the trees dotting the landing area, and the burning ship nearby. He could only do one thing, and that was brace for impact. The right kind. Not the splatter-into-a-tree kind.

    He grabbed his feet and started to twist his body to position himself favorably for the fall. A quick forward flip and sideway rotation, and Isak was facing the ground, his ears the first thing that would impact. Now he had to time it.

    The ground was growing closer and closer and closer. A quick calculation... he probably had ten seconds before he hit the ground now. He tucked in his ears again in anticipation... how exciting! Time seemed to slow as the adrenaline took over. When his ears propelled him in the opposite direction, however, it sped up again. This time, the plan wasn't as risky. A high-velocity duck and roll to distribute the force of impact. Aside from a small scrape, that nearly went off without a hitch too.

    He didn't stick around to lick his wounds. He could see the ship now, a firey blaze in the crimson sky, capsized in midair, the balloon from before obviously well-deflated now. If Petrina was alive, she would be under it... there was probably not much time before the flames licking it hit the fuel... he had started dashing back towards it before completing the thought.

    The distance seemed to go by quicker than it did. He soon found himself closing in on the area directly below the airship. Was Petrina there? Please be alive. Please be alive. It wasn't long before he found the crater belonging to the Aggron on the ship. She wasn't with him. He had to ignore the impact, and continued to look, panicking as the flaming ship taunted him from above. Could he risk searching for her any longer?

    Wait, what was that noise? Was that a groan? Isak ran towards it, finding himself stepping on a lot of broken... ice? This had to be her doing.

    "Petrina!?" He called out to her, hoping to gauge some sort of response.

    "Isak, run you idiot!" Petrina was already on her feet. She felt like she had broken her... everything after the impact, but she had time to feel pain and pass out later . She charged straight past the Buneary, breaking for... just about anywhere that wasn't here.

    Isak turned and followed the Glaceon as a loud explosion rocked the earth from above.
     
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    • Seen May 5, 2024

    The battle of the Two Emperors
    [M] for graphic details


    The true Emperor's shield made themselves apparent, a circle of Doublades with white flags that crushed against Vektor's blue ones, catching them unawares. The ghosts fought with each other with bright white and blue flashes, steel sounds and screams.A battle cry raced from the white-colored stranglehold that had trapped Vektor and his commanders in. "For the Thunder Crown!" The drive of the attackers had brought them in the core of their enemy's host and they were fighting with such ferocity that the recipients of their wrath cowered and faltered before it. Dareon was the head of the wrathful dragon. His will to live and persevere was the strongest, and it showed the moment the Shield's stranglehold formed a tight circle around the Mega Ampharos and his opponent, Vektor, a Drapion as tall as him, whose face was flushed with the signs of bewilderment and astonishment.

    Emperor Dareon stood against him with his chest bulked up pridefully, the Thunder Crown on his head zapping the air with shimmering sparks. The two sashimono flags protruded from his back like butterfly wings, strangely untouched after the battle; both the Swellow of Hesperia and the Aggron of Stygia were clean of smudges or blood, and could be seen clearly even from a great distance. The Emperor carried the strength of both nations.

    Vektor had worn flags too, sashimonos made to fit on his back in the same manner, as was the tradition. They showed both flags of Hesperia and Stygia, but it was unconvincing, an unfitting garment for a Drapion, or so Dareon thought.

    There wasn't any time for acknowledgements for each other's tactics, comments or elaborate taunts. This was the battlefield. All that mattered were actions now.

    He caught his breath, raised his hand to point his claw directly at the Drapion, as if his hand was already lightning that could pierce right through him. He said, "I, true Emperor, holder of the Thunder Crown, First Man of Union and Alliance and Ruler of All Exathian Nations, Defender of the Constitution, sentence you to die by my strike."

    The Drapion spread his arms wide, sidestepping slowly, his expression tightened into that of a focused warrior's. He had not expected this encounter, Dareon could tell, at least not like this, but he could hardly tell Vektor wasn't prepared. Vektor said boldly, "I do the same - you are to die by my hand."

    Dareon didn't take the taunt well. Lightning rushed down his arm from the Thunder Crown and was shot off the tip of his claw. The Drapion sidestepped, having anticipated it; he was much faster than the Ampharos, and he was more of a physical attacker, so he advanced quickly, showing his fangs in determination as his legs worked quickly to get him across the hilly, snowy terrain. Dareon dropped the hand he had raised and pointed at his foe with the other. Thunder tore the cloudy skies as another lightning was fired. An intensely green, dense shield protected Vektor wholly, deflecting the lightning in the air as he was halfway close to the Ampharos; the lightning struck the Hesperian flagship which was flying a good distance away, causing its wood to catch on fire.

    Protect. Dareon hadn't anticipated this. Vektor's arms were drenched in liquid darkness; he struck the Emperor on the chest with a Pursuit that did little but knock him back. With his momentum, the Drapion sank his poisonous fangs on the Ampharos's shoulder. Dareon ground his teeth, preventing himself from crying out, his rage drowning the sharp pain. With his free arm, he conjured a sphere of lightning of pulsing intensity, a Zap Cannon, which could not be avoided in this range. He punched it right into his foe's chest, electrocuting him whole. Despite his size, the force of the impact hurled him across the grass, several feet away. The Drapion rolled, but he used the momentum to steady himself gracefully on his feet. His whole body was overrun by flying sparks and he seemed to lag now on his movement.

    Dareon had to admire his determination and grace as a fighter. But the fact that he was infected by the Drapion's deadly toxins didn't let that moment last for long. Thinking on his feet, he reflected, I have to finish him as quickly as possible... if we both die, let it be said he died first. With that thought, he resolved to use his most reliable weapon again, lightning. Again, he pointed his claw at him, as if he was Arceus delivering Judgement, and his trusty Thunder Crown burst with sparks that followed the path down his arm and off his claw. For a moment, he thought the strike landed; his senses were numbed by the poison, so he could've been seeing things. But Vektor had moved out of the way nimbly, despite his paralysis.

    "Stand still, coward," Dareon bellowed, maddened by the wound on his shoulder and the poison. He used his other arm to fire another lightning, which was blocked by the green shield.

    "Your Highness!" he heard Thresh's voice behind him, and he knew the Aegislash was ready to intervene, "you're hurt! Let the Shield finish this!"

    "Silence!" the Mega Ampharos roared. "I shall root my birthright out of him with my own hands, and I will die first before anyone robs me of that privilege!"





    The Emperor
    exhaled. Sound was blocked off. The Doublades with the white flags didn't move. Vektor would have reached him by now, if he wasn't held back by his paralyzed limbs. He was only a few feet away, when he stopped entirely, grunting and smirking in pain as the full paralysis caught up with him. With Dareon's next breath, the dragon bent his body forward and let the Dragon Pulse come blasting out of his mouth. The dragonfire washed over the Drapion, blue and red flames combined in a thick cloud-like pulse engulfing him. He yelled out in pain and anger. Before, a bit too late, his green shield popped up, blocking the flames. Dareon kept up his Dragon Pulse with the same ferocity, hoping to outlast the Protect, but his lungs failed him, and his senses betrayed him.

    He staggered forward, clutching his chest, out of breath, feeling the poison run black through his veins. To his credit, Vektor had suffered through the Dragon Pulse and was standing by the end of it; wisps of dragonfire lingered on his legs, chest and arms and his face was blackened, horribly burned, but the Drapion was exceptionally hardy. He advanced like before, a mighty warrior covering the distance between them with a few strides, and struck on Dareon's head with a Knock Off; the force of the blow had the Thunder Crown dislodged from the curls of his cotton hair and thrown to the side and out of the Ampharos's sight. Dareon was unable to stop it, stunned as he was, but still standing on his feet. The fray had them both step back.

    Vektor had hooked the Thunder Crown with his long arm and with a swift motion, he put it on his head. The gold threw sparks and Vektor blinked.

    Dareon spat blood to the side, his composure intact. "The Thunder Crown will fry your head, traitor," he said under his breath, raising his arm again. That second, lightning was shot, though not from his claw, but from the spike of the Thunder Crown, towards Dareon. Vektor glanced at the electric current in astonishment. The antennae on Dareon's head caught the strike and the electricity ran through to both his arms. After the full circle, it was shot off back to Vektor, thunder roaring in the skies.

    Vektor barely had the time to raise his green shield again. The two charged lightning plasmas struck it with an intensity that made the shield waver, the waves of energy on it frantically running to the point of impact to strengthen it. The sparks jumped all around the shield, which was concentrated in one place and weak, as a result, in the peripheral. Vektor cowered low behind his Protect, as to get as much protection he could from it. The heat made the snow under his feet melt and the grass catch on fire. He roared, refusing to let up, and Dareon let out a furious, rallying thunder-like cry, "Thunder Crown!"

    Several seconds passed with the lightning withering intensely against the green shield, until it flickered, and after a second, faded, leaving Vektor exposed. Both strikes found him on the chest. Vektor's features were twisted in wild disbelief as the lightning engulfed his whole body. Electricity ran to the flags that were strapped on his back, frying the skin and igniting the wooden sticks. The zap blasted him off several feet, the Thunder Crown leaving his head; he rolled on the grass, his whole body smoking, with sparks flying off; Dareon was forced on his knees after his effort. The Doublades of the Shield were gravely silent; face down, Emperor Vektor's chest was pumping up and down, but he was not getting up. Dareon stood strong again, his righteous fury replacing the characteristics of pain from his expression, and he bulked up his chest, his heart pumping fast with the rush of victory.

    He started approaching his fallen opponent. Thresh scooped up the Thunder Crown and placed it on his head; the leader of the Shield knew what time it was, as they had done this before. He slipped his handle within Dareon's grasp and wrapped his ghostly arms around his. Dareon fought through the damage the toxin inflicted on his body, remaining composed and regal. Wielding the Aegislash, the Thunder Crown on its proper place, he kicked the Drapion's arm so the 'mon on the ground rolled over to his back. The flags of Hesperia and Stygia on his back were reduced to black ash, much like his dream of ruling the Exathian nations. His breathing was rugged, billowing out quickly as small clouds of steam, and he was dazed and stunned, overwhelmed by the ardent attack.

    "You're still alive?" Dareon asked in mild, mocking wonderment. He stepped on his foe's chest, putting his weight behind his leg, and leaned forward, smirking his eyebrows as he eyed him mercilessly. "You should have known better than to defy me," he whispered. Vektor tried to say something, but he coughed up blood instead.

    The Ampharos gripped the handle of the Aegislash with both hands and raised it high in the air... then he brought it down, putting all his strength behind a two-handed blown that cut clean right through the Drapion, decapitating his head. As the Drapion's arms grew from his head, that was nearly half of his body cut off. The Mega Ampharos grabbed the head and arms by the spike and raised it high in the air with one hand for everyone to see, holding Thresh low with the other. His stance was that of a legendary hero's, and all those who looked upon him felt the awe excite their hearts, enemy or ally. The flags of skin were still clean at the end of the battle, Swellow and Aggron showing proudly on the true Emperor's person.

    He felt oddly calm, victory giving him more strength; he felt he could face Vektor twice and live. That's what Dareon was born for, to persevere, and he liked to underline that.

    "The pretender emperor is dead, stricken down by me," he yelled, and the psychic device on Thresh's handle enhanced his voice.

    Dareon's shout was carried across Vigil's Forest, reaching even Amoon Village. Conch shells blew from afar, and their call was carried in the forest, much like Dareon's shout. Moments passed, and their sound faded.
    The Hesperian Commanders, Rhyperior and Tangrowth, raised their arms in surrender in sight of the decapitated head, kneeling to the direction of the true Emperor. The Hesperians near them stopped fighting and did the same.

    "His Shield is dead," Dareon continued, "his flags reduced to ash. Your Commanders have surrendered. Cease your fighting. There is no one to fight for. No one to fight for but myself."


    The King of Kings

     
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    Epilogue for the Battle of Amoon

    Having witnessed Dareon's victory over their beloved General, former Emperor Vektor, the Hesperians ceased fighting, as all of their Commanders had been captured or slain in battle. Left leaderless, the option of who to serve rose. Would they serve Dareon, or would they serve Thrace? It was not that Dareon was hated among them, it was that Vektor was much preferred, and embodied Hesperian ambition to eradicate the Stygians and let the Hesperian culture expand to every corner of the sky-gliding island. And while Dareon had removed the person they had placed all their hopes on, the crusade was wholly made of their enemies, Stygians. Bending the knee to Emperor Dareon was the unanimous decision that all of them were forced to make on the spot, and the former commanders could only expect to be treated mercifully. And indeed, the Emperor was merciful, because his wrath was quenched with Vektor's death; the commanders who had openly battled the Gold Tribe that day were stripped off their titles and were deemed unable to rise again in the ranks of Hesperian military. In addition to that, Emperor Dareon asked that Hesperia, during peacetime, would pay for the damage they had caused to him and the people loyal to him; a special tax that the warrior-class of Hesperia would be forced to pay.

    During Dareon's ambush, the Hesperians suffered great losses. One forth of their military was eradicated - that makes ten thousand corpses riddling the snow-covered Vigil's Forest. Thirty thousand of them remained, a formidable number that would change the odds in this tale of conquest. Seeing as the Hesperians were in need of a ruler who would bind them to Dareon, Garland, after the battle, advised Dareon, drawing his attention to one Lord Rhoy, who was suitable. Lord Rhoy of Skyhaven, a middle-aged Escavalier Commander who had fought besides Dareon during the War of Succession, was appointed temporary General of the Hesperian military after Garland's suggestion. A man disappointed with Vektor's rule, who had been humiliated and forced in the rear guard in the Battle of Amoon, he was the lord who had suffered most losses against the Stygian crusade when rescuing Alamagna. And, he had also battled for Dareon's Thunder Crown before, would now make for a vigorous and loyal ally of his; Dareon would have made him permanent General on the spot, if it wasn't for his son Cyrus, who interjected for his own reasons.

    In just one day, Dareon had strengthened his military by thirty thousand determined, disciplined and dedicated warriors. The idea of giving chase to the retreating forces of Lord Teneth's Shukahen tribe was enticing to everyone, but the flank of the host with the crimson banners returning to the Crystal Palace looked much like the cheese housewives put on traps for the Rattata. If they attempted to make a grab for it, the Crusade would clamp them down like a vice. When they looked up, they saw in the north the great shadow over the mountains, the signal of a storm. Thrace is coming, became a common saying, and a sense of urgency fell on Dareon's supporters. The command for a whole retreat was issued during the following moments of Vektor's death. Some protested that they need bury the dead before they left, but Dareon wasn't keen on waiting, and Lord Kymotonian declared that Vigil's Forest had claimed those who had fought for Amoon that day and, by Otorian ethics, they were to be left unburied, to "return to the wild, where they had come from". In the following days, the Murkrows of Vigil's Forest feasted.

    The Otori capable of fighting had lost two thousand men in defense of their village, while their enemy, the Shukahen, had suffered twice that many; leaving Lord Kymotonian with twelve thousand under his command and Lord Teneth with sixteen thousand. Amoon had been successfully defended, but the terrain and circumstances did not allow for a much larger army to stand and receive the brunt of the Crusade's attack upon their descend, so the Otori capable of fighting consented to leave their village behind and follow Emperor Dareon and Prince Cyrus back to Union City, while the noncombatant population of Amoon would go into hiding in anticipation of the Crimson Crusade.

    News of the Wise Master's death rang, but no one seemed to mind - he wasn't loved, nor truly respected. What amazed the warrior-class was the capture - for the second time - of Brynjolf Grimsnauk, Lord of the Tocan. He was half-dead when located, close to where the fray was, and the Hesperians confirmed he was Rethlor's prisoner. Now he became Dareon's prisoner after Prince Cyrus's request.

    So, the march back home begun. From the thick of the forest, Dareon's army started crossing the fields that would eventually lead them to Union City. White fields with snow which hadn't been stepped on. The massive host of Otori and Hesperians shivered at the early heavy snows of the tenth month as they fought through. Those who had the cold as their weakness were put together with those who could easily create fire. Emperor Dareon had marched in front of his followers for a time, but Cyrus soon called a palanquin to carry him, and after insisting through his father's protests, he entered with him. As soon as the curtains inside the palanquin closed behind them, doctors followed, and rumors ran through the army. The Emperor was sick. The Gold Tribe confirmed those rumors when Garland, Jacob and Ambrose visited inside the palanquin. The wound on the Ampharos's shoulder would heal, but the poison persisted, and a Drapion's poison was a strong one. Everyone kept faith to Dareon, continuing to march south, but some - the Gold Tribe, especially - put a more pressing matter in the spotlight: that the People's Militia would refuse to let any of them in the city, unless Cyrus received the Thunder Crown.

     

    Greiger

    A mad mind... hehe
    2,016
    Posts
    12
    Years
    • Age 33
    • Seen Oct 1, 2023
    The Coronation of a New Emperor​

    The wide palanquin of the Emperor rocked slightly. In his bed, the Emperor was feverish, and a Florges, member of the Gold Tribe, was above him, putting her best effort to heal him; it was the Drapion's toxin that was causing it. Right now, he was laid back on his bed in a state of semi-conscious sleep. Despite his fever and his sweating, his state of mind was crystal clear; Cyrus hadn't seen him like that ever before. They could talk of strategy as if he wasn't ill at all.

    The Beartic was pacing up and down the palanquin, his eyes drawn involuntarily to the four Gold Tribe who were standing guards at the entrance of the massive palanquin. They weren't going to betray them, were they...? He shook that thought off forcefully. Around the palanquin, several dozens of Gold Tribe members travelled with it; there was no way treason could reach them that far, and if it did, they had most of the Tribe to defend them from it.

    There was one member of the Gold Tribe who would be here soon to talk. Demetrus "Thrasher", who had requested an audience with Cyrus.

    And speak of the man himself, Thrasher was soon making his way into the area. The Primeape made his way up to Cyrus and kneeled before him, "Your highness." He said as he quickly rose, "I have a pressing matter to discuss with you. Do you have any private chambers we can chat in? I do assure you, it's in your best interests."

    "Best take a walk," Cyrus said hurriedly, motioning with his hand outside. He jumped out of the moving palanquin that was carried by the Machoke guards, and as he did so, few members of the Gold Tribe saluted him as they were walking besides the imperial vessel. The Beartic nodded at them and glanced behind him to see the Primeape following him.

    Over the fields, a white blanket of snow fell, gradually increasing with the gentle snowfall. They couldn't see much far away: either at the forest behind them, or at Union City past the mountains of the south, as snow cloaked the horizon. Once the Beartic and the Primeape were at a good distance besides the main march, Cyrus said, "I'm listening, Thrasher. Anything of importance?"

    "Yes." The Primeape crossed his arms and thought for a moment, "I am not sure if you remember... but did you happen to hear those rumors that circulated about me? The ones that stated I bloodied my hands before and was looking to potentially assassinate the emperor, correct?"

    Cyrus licked his lips in a careful expression, choosing his words without looking at him. "I know who you were," he admitted, "but I never knew of such a plan. It must be nothing but talk... or is it?" He looked questioningly at Thrasher.

    "... Yes, a long time ago I was an assassin. I worked for the white rose clan." He explained. "And that experience of mine will help you today. So far the city has had no Gold Tribe in it, meaning that our enemy has had time to infiltrate not only with their leaders, but also the more common foot soldiers. Being Stygians, it is likely that several assassination groups have even been hired on by our opposition."

    Thrasher stared at Cyrus, "It's my belief that if you head into that city to be coronated, you will be assassinated. While we were busy battling out here the various assassins hired would have been given access to the place where all coronations happen. Where your father was coronated. They would know every inch of the layout. Of course, a bonus to them would be the large crowds that would surge inside to see the very act."

    He chuckled softly, "Oh it reminds me of this party I went to once. Ice daggers are quite deadly. Sharp, but quick to melt and wiping away all evidence in a matter of seconds. It would be a simple matter of having an ice type forge such a weapon and having a psychic move it into the right spot and then throwing it. My best guess would be that they would try to kill both you and your father. What we need, is to not give them that opportunity."

    Cyrus listened intently, nodding solemnly every now and then. "I concur," he said, "that is good advice that we best heed, if we are to be kept alive... what further proposition do you make?"

    "We have to keep it where the assassins cannot hide without raising suspicion." He explained. "And where there will be open areas as well. No large amounts of trees for them to hide in, no ark places where they can sneak in the shadows. It is sound advice passed down from assassin to assassin, better to be in a crowd of a hundred then a crowd of only two mon. The only other worry I do have is that of the castle. Once you are coronated... I am unsure if it is a safe place for you to stay. You have to remember, someone managed to not only sneak in, but also sneak you out, and sneak you out of the city without so much as one mon catching them. I don't want to make you paranoid, but I highly believe some staff in the castle might have helped in the kidnapping."

    Prince Cyrus gave a genuine, although weary smile. He didn't answer for a while. The snow crunched under his feet; his gaze returned to the path ahead, and he kicked a small rock out of his way, absent minded. He took a breath of the fresh air of the fields, feeling lightheaded for the things he was about to entrust to this old member of the tribe. "The coronation will be dangerous in a crowd... so be it. Then we shall do it privately. In a few hours, in fact. I have talked about this with my father and there is no alternative left. Not that I complain." His smile grew powerful, pointed now at Thrasher. "Thrasher, I am about to take the reins of this empire, to become its most powerful component. I have trained my whole life for leadership. When the moment comes that I am master of things that were beyond my control until the Thunder Crown is given to me... I will beat fate into smiling for us."

    Thrasher sighed, "Your highness... I am unsure to be honest." He looked away, "You have Thrace to contend with still. You have a army to contend with still. And this is a leadership change for our side, one that the enemy could have predicted. I just wish for you to be safe."

    "Can I trust you, Thrasher?"

    "Yes." Thrasher said. "I have done many things in the past your highness, but thing I have never done is snitch." He crossed his arms, "If you have plan or wish for me to make one to ensure your safety, I will do so. At any cost."

    The Beartic shook his head lightly, withdrawing his mouth. "I am safe as long as I am between the Tribe... it is other matters that you are more capable of handling than others of the Tribe."

    "Such as?" He asked as he slowly uncrossed his arms and put his hands on his hips.

    The prince now looked at him with clear eyes. His words were delicate. "If I tell you to kill... you kill. When the time comes, when I am surrounded by enemies, you will know."

    Thrasher fell silent for a moment. He closed his eyes as he thought and then he slowly nodded, "If I have to, I will make it so I am the only one at guilt. If need be, do you wish for me to kill myself if I am caught? So you will not be found out?" He asked. "Sorry, it's just a standard question to ask clients." He chuckled, "Even so many years out of the trade... I still remember to ask that."

    "No," he said decisively, "whatever happens, do not commit suicide. If I am to take the blame, then so be it... but at a dire time like this, there is little the Gold Tribe can do about it. I am irreplaceable," he flashed a confident grin.

    "We shall see." He said with a bowed head, "I shall take this matter to my grave then. May the coronation go as planned then." He said with a weak smile.


    ***


    The next morning, the army's march was halted and the making of the new Emperor was announced. The Gold Tribe did not wait for the news to travel within the entire army, before they set out to a snowy hill. The Emperor left his palanquin for the first time in a long while; the Thunder Crown shone brightly on his head. He was draped in a red cape with a golden lining that pooled around him; the cape was carefully laid so his bandaged shoulder was not visible. His son Cyrus walked beside him in his crystalline armor and a sable, dragon leather cloak. The Doublades of the Shield lined up all the way to the hill, where the ceremony would take place; the Otori were cheering behind them as they circled the hill.

    Dareon looked regal and dignified, standing upon the rock, in sight of all the Otori followers. Thresh and Garland were beside him, and also Lord Kymotonian of Amoon, the Trevenant, and Lord Rhoy of Skyhaven the Escavalier. Prince Cyrus kneeled in front of his father, letting his black cape touch the snow. Beyond the Ampharos and the Beartic, the northern skies were tormented by a storm, as they had for the past week.

    Thrasher himself was standing off to the side. He was one of the few that was closest to the ceremony, and for a good reason. He was in charge of security. He not only had pointed out weak spots in the area, but also was keeping a good eye on the crowd. He doubted he would be able to find any assassins before they acted, but if they did act, he could be right there ready to grab them before they fled. At the very least, they could be captured and perhaps interrogated. He wasn't a healer at all, so the only other thing he could do was act quickly and perhaps take a dagger for one of the royal family members.

    The imperial family did not appear to worry about assassins, or if they did, they did not show it. Crown Prince Cyrus wore a formal expression and Dareon a serious one. The Ampharos begun lifting the Thunder Crown off the curls of his head; he spontaneously turned to the people gathered at the foot of the hill.

    "I cherish this crown. It is a symbol of power, the means for dominance, suitable only for the one rightful ruler of the Exathian Empire."

    Garland stepped forward, his face solemn, and Dareon handed him the Crown. He let it hover above the kneeling prince's head.

    "I, Dareon Zhaolong Aurelius," his voice was heard weak in the whirl of the snow, but everyone knew what he was saying, "First Man of Union and Alliance, Ruler of All Exathian Nations and Defender of the Constitution, bestow all these rights and titles, together with the Thunder Crown, to my only son and heir... Cyrus," he whispered.

    Garland lowered the crown upon Cyrus's head. Far in the north, lightning flashed, tearing the skies, and thunder came abruptly.

    Garland looked proud, but still solemn. Dareon's face was unreadable.

    "I have fought and bled for this crown... do not let me down," he said quietly to his son. Then he shouted for all to hear, "rise now, Emperor Cyrus Aurelius."

    Cyrus, no longer a prince, rose, smiling brightly, clad in his crystallized-ice armor and the gold and silver Thunder Crown atop his head. The crowds of the Otori and the Gold Tribe tore the silence with cheers and cries, so no one heard the distant sound of thunder.
     
    Last edited:

    Plumbum

    The Dandy Highwayman (That You're Too Scared to Me
    101
    Posts
    9
    Years
  • Crystal Blue Persuasion​


    Petrina wandered the mountain passes. She was no stranger to any of them - of course, nobody was ever a stranger to their home. These were the passes around Xeo. There was no mistaking it. How did she get here? The last she remembered was being left for dead at Amoon... the other side of Exathor almost... When she looked up, she could see a highly-unstable snowdrift set into the top of the pass. A small shake and the snow would collapse atop anyone unfortunate enough to be in the mountain valley. Of course, that was what it was designed to do. She remembered setting the trap with Tabitha. Had it failed to go off?

    She pushed the questions to the back of her mind. If she wanted answers, she would have to get home and see what had become of the outpost village. As she navigated the labyrinthine valleys cut into the mountainside, she spotted more and more of the traps the Gold Tribe had set to thin out the rebels' numbers. Snow set atop pits dug into the ground, stakes set at the bottom. Small mounds that wouldn't be noticed, each concealing a mine made with a Blast Seed and a pot. None of it was complex or high-tech, but they'd had to make do with what little they had and none of it seemed triggered.

    "Vanguard!"

    Petrina gasped as somebody called out her title. She was sure she recognised the voice, but it couldn't be, surely? Instantly, Petrina began scanning the sky for a Delibird - spotting out red-feathered avian against the white, clouded sky, flying straight down toward her. Petrina was speechless, she was sure that her whole team had perished... 

    "Vanguard... Thank Arceus you're okay, we were all getting worried about you! We thought you'd gone running after Teneth's army yourself." the Delibird told her.

    Petrina gasped. "You were all worried? You're all okay? Tabitha, where are the others?"

    Tabitha's head tilted to the side a little at Petrina's question. "They're back at the village, Vanguard. Right where you left us."

    "I didn't leave you!" Petrina protested. She didn't remember the battle, but she was certain of it that she would never have simply abandoned her team to die...

    "Well, you're out here aren't you? 'Sides, somebody needed to get the defences ready." Tabitha checked over her shoulder, in the direction leading away from Xeo. "I saw Teneth's army, they're just minutes out now and we're gonna need our commander back if we're gonna face them."

    Teneth's army was just arriving? Maybe... maybe it was all a dream? Maybe the battle hadn't happened yet, her friends weren't dead... Maybe Petrina could change it all before it happened! "Tabitha! Double-time it back to base. Let the others know our orders have changed - we need to fall back immediately. We're not all dying here for nothing!"

    Tabitha just looked straight through Petrina as if she hadn't even heard her. "In fact, the defences are pretty much ready, Vanguard. We'll hold Xeo with our lives for as long as we can.

    "Give me an update on the defences back home. We need to be ready to intercept." Petrina grimaced as she remembered her own words. That was what Tabitha was responding to, surely...

    "No! I said we have to leave!" Petrina scolded her, but once again she received the same blank look. "Urgh... We can't stand around here all day playing stupid games! Let's get back home."

    "Right. I'll walk with you. If we get caught out, better to be caught together." Petrina nodded to Tabitha's suggestion. It didn't take them long to get home. The village looked pristine, exactly as she remembered it. Even down to the smoldering fire they'd gathered around the night before, still smoking as it had been when she last saw it.

    She walked in, through the crude wall they'd set up from just about every spare plank of wood they'd had lying about. Her home was... home. They hadn't set up any traps in the village itself. It was what they were trying to defend, not destroy. Five other Gold Tribe - a Blaziken, Haunter, Excadrill, Mamoswine and Leafeon sat around the remains of a fire. For the most part, they seemed to be almost casually chatting, sat around the remains of the fire - even when it was burnt out, it was a meeting place like any other, but the arrival of Petrina caused the five to stand or float to attention, as their case may be - or in the case of one over-excited Leafeon, a running tackle at his sister.

    "Little sis! We were worried about you!" he shouted as he tackled her.

    Petrina almost welcomed her brother's inappropriate attention. "I'm not your little sister, Percy. We're twins."

    "An hour and a half still counts, little sis." Percival giggled like a little schoolgirl. She wondered how he could keep up his disposition at a time like this. Still, there were far more pressing issues. Petrina pushed her brother aside, nodding both him and Tabitha towards the line the others had formed. Petrina paced backwards and forwards across the front of them.

    "Brothers, sister. I want you to listen close to me. I stand today as the proudest 'mon in the entire Gold Tribe, for I have the honour of leading you. For these years, since the first Rebellion, that we have spent rebuilding our home, I have held that honour and I have never felt such pride as I do today. You all stand before me, willing to die if you must to protect a home that we have all worked so hard to build." Petrina took a deep breath, sighing audibly, allowing just a hint of that stress to show through. "I now realise I can't allow that to happen. As hard as it may be to accept, our home holds no value now. We cannot afford to die in its defence. To this effect, we need to abandon Xeo outpost, we will fall back and merge with Gold Tribe forces near Alamanga or the capital."

    It was Pervical who stepped forward. "Pettie... That was all really cool and all, but you don't need to tell us what we already know."

    "Good, then we can start immediately." Petrina breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the whole mess with Tabitha was just her messing about.

    Percival gave her a nod. "Don't worry. I think Runner told you. All the defences are ready." Percival drew himself closer to his sister. "I don't want to let the others know... but I'm scared, sis. I mean... I know we all said we're ready to die, but I... I'm not so sure. I mean... is it worth our lives protecting here?"

    "We will defend our home to our very last! No doubt, we will be over-run and die, but our service to the Tribe and our home are great and noble things for use to die for!" Tears filled Petrina's eyes as she remembered what she had really said back then. Nobody could hear her now. This was all too strange, every time she ordered them to turn and back, they glazed right through her as if she hadn't spoken a word. Percy was sat there, right in front of her parroting the same question she had spent the last few weeks fighting but he wouldn't hear it from her, wouldn't let her change their fates. She brought around her paw, giving her brother the hardest slap she could manage, fighting back her tears as she screamed at him. "Dammit, someone listen to me! We're leaving, we're not dying, please! I shouldn't have given the order, we should have turned and ran like everyone else!" Petrina glared at Percy, still sobbing as she watched him come around from her almighty slap. He looked fit to burst at her. He probably would have if it weren't for the sound of a soft explosion in the distance. It was one of the mines they had set.

    "They're right on top of us!" Percival shouted. Looking back around, the rest of the team had retreated to the buildings, as had been the plan. They'd ambush Teneth's force as soon as they arrived.

    Tabitha shouted over to them from behind the wall. "Jester! Vanguard! Once you're done having a sibling moment, it might be a good idea to find a defensive position!"

    "No, Runner! I'm in charge here! We turn around this second, we retreat whilst we still have time!" Petrina yelled, tears flying loose of her eyes, each one leaving a small impression as it hit the snow sat atop the ground.

    "I guess this is it, sis." Percival said solemnly. "We're cooked, aren't we? Let's just hope we leave a legend behind us then!" The Leafeon charged back to join the others, but Petrina stood staring at them, dumbfounded. Turning her head around, she could see the first few troops of Teneth's leaving the mountain's valleys. She just stared at them and cried... cried as her nightmare melted away from her, returning her sleep to an empty, dreamless and restless one.

    ***​

    The small litter had a roof that blocked off the snow, but it wasn't any less cold. The Audino nurse, Maywell of the Gold Tribe, didn't think it made any difference for one such as Vanguard - ice was Petrina's element, so snow would not harm her, if not heal her. The Audino checked on her every now and then, bouncing from her to patients in other litters that required her attention. But this time was special. She shook her bell gently, smiling kindly upon the Glaceon.

    "Here comes tea," she said, placing a cup in front of her, "drink up! It will help."

    Petrina didn't know how long it had been since her nightmare. Tears were still filling her eyes. She reached up with her foreleg to wipe them away and was rewarded with a sharp pain in her ribs, gritting her teeth and sucking down a sharp breath. It took a while before she even realised she had an Audino nurse looking down at her. "I'm fine, sorry." she lied through her teeth. She had bigger concerns. She didn't remember where she was, if anyone picked her up or she'd found her way to the rest of the Tribe under her own power. "Where was I?"

    Maywell looked at her nicely. "Quite a battle you just had," she said, her voice low, "you were found by us when we were scouting for survivors... we won!" she added excitedly, her eyes hopeful, "Emperor Dareon bested Vektor in combat... the result was immediately known. We're now marching back to Union City."

    As she was saying those words, she touched Petrina's back, searching for a good spot; a moment later, she placed her paw behind the Glaceon's neck and used her gentle Heal Pulse. A faint, pale light covered Petrina's body, easing the pain somewhat. Maywell smiled kindly at her. "Emperor Cyrus wants to see you, by the way. I told him you would be tired, but he insisted. He's curious about that," she gestured towards the crystal, somewhat disapprovingly. "I told you to keep it inside the bag." Petrina seemed to have taken it out again.

    Petrina looked at the crystal with a tilted, confused head. "You never told me anything... and I... haven't been awake." It didn't surprise her that Cyrus would want to see her about the crystal, but... what did that Audino call him? Emperor? Whatever had caused that change, Petrina was way out of the loop. Still, the Healing Pulse had taken the edge out of the pain. She stood herself up, taking the crystal in her tail, freezing it against the fur to keep a hold of it. "Well, I must thank you for your help, but it is a rude thing to keep the Emperor waiting."

    ***​

    The forty thousand-strong host halted for the night. Campfires that were near could be seen in the snowy fields, fading lights in a light snowstorm. Soldiers had settled down, tired from the long, mad march through the snow for all day and a good part of the night, and they were mostly quiet. To the very front of the army, the Emperor's palanquin had settled, surrounded by the mass of Gold Tribe members gathered around two great bonfires. Tents had been set for the Pokemon who needed them the most; it was one of those tents that Petrina was led to by the Doublade guards, who surrounded this particular tent, visibly floating in mid-air, tirelessly staying vigilant.

    A Doublade in front of the entrance to the red tent uncrossed its swords to let Petrina pass. It was cold and damp inside, the only source of light an oil lamp that was set on a desk to her right; on the desk was seated Garland, and besides him, Emperor Cyrus was laid comfortably on a giant blue cushion. The Thunder Crown on his head reflected the light of the lamp, though his pale eyes did not. Once she entered, he smiled at her faintly, his eyebrows slightly arched. His eyes darted to the crystal frozen on her tail and stayed there. Garland stood from his seat and went to check up on her.

    "Vanguard," the Floatzel said, his worry carefully concealed under a formal tone, "you are alive, good. Thank Arceus you are. How are you feeling?"

    Petrina had bowed her head to the new-crowned emperor - fearing she might invoke her injuries again if she bowed her forelegs also, but it was Garland she had to turn to to give her answer. "Well, I fell at terminal velocity from a burning airship and I'm not dead. I guess that means that all things considered, I'm pretty good." As was often the case with Petrina, she did not want anyone else to concern over her.

    Cyrus laughed briskly, as if she'd told a joke. He was leaning on his elbow, sinking in the pillow; with the other hand, he motioned at Garland. "Take your seat, Garland, I hardly think Vanguard can be killed so easily, let alone harmed! I heard of Team Tundra's accomplishments. That is all the Tribe has been talking about as of late." He was left smiling at her, with his tongue between his teeth, all amused-like. "I'm impressed, truly."

    Petrina allowed herself a prideful smile. "The fleet was a threat. It was our duty to deal with airborne threats, was it not? I regret, I was unconscious during the last few moments of this plan. I do not know how many of the brave Otori that followed me survived the operation, but they all deserve the same praise as I. I understand, however, your reasons for requiring me, Emperor are related to this operation." Petrina's emphasis on the word 'emperor' being her way of both congratulation to Cyrus and a probe into what he would prefer she call him now. She skimmed the crystal from the fur in her tail across the ground, capturing it against her forepaw and bringing it into focus. "This crystal that I captured during the course of events above Amoon?"

    Emperor Cyrus' expression fell a bit from playful to pensive. He sat properly on the cushion, his back leaving it as he leaned forward a bit, closer to the crystal the Glaceon was holding. It was darker than the night, so dark in fact that it seemed to swallow her paw. Cyrus raised his arm, shut his eyes and inhaled air loudly, as if trying to taste it. Cold steam billowed out when he exhaled and slowly opened his eyes. "Can you feel it?" he said, "the power within the crystal, it is subtle, but if you acknowledge it... it becomes almost physical. And its dark color? Where does it come from? What can be done with this object, how can it help us - or, if it can, should it? Many, many questions to be answered. May I?" he asked, extending his arm gently, his open palm waiting.

    Petrina pulled her forepaw away from the Emperor. "I would not dare allow the crystal to touch the hands of another." Petrina seemed surprised that he knew what the crystal was, given how little she knew about it. "You seem to know the power this crystal holds. It plays host to the spirits of its former wielders. Those spirits have made dire threats should I or any of the Tribe wield its power. I would dare not expose you to these risks."

    The Emperor did not show any signs of disturbance, or anything for that matter. He looked at Garland, who nodded, pursing his mouth. "It is dangerous, Your Highness," the Floatzel said quietly, solemnly, avoiding Cyrus's look. For one moment, it seemed as if the young Emperor would insist, but he withdrew his hand and blew air out of his nostrils, smiling in a chuckle that never came out.

    "Alright," he said, leaning back on his cushion again. Garland continued.

    "Although we are aware of the overall nature of the transparent crystals Zane Tyrael brought to us, we have not yet identified the black color some of those found in Exathor seem to have. If... if I remember correctly, Zane himself cautioned in a Vaults Entry that he had been warned of the unique influence and questionable abilities of the Dark Star."

    Cyrus looked to the side, leaning on his elbow, his hand covering the lower part of his face and ice beard. As Garland was giving his input, his finger fondled through the pale fur of his cheek and he nodded slowly, pensively. "Abilities which were displayed aboard Vektor's flagship, to hear witnesses tell it. Among the survivors, we stumbled upon one Lord of the Tocan. He hasn't spoken much, but what he has told us is... intriguing, to say the least. Ingvar, coming to life on that deck, protecting the Wise Master who wielded the crystal?" His monologue ended when his eyes fell on Petrina. "I must know everything that transpired there."

    Petrina looked down at the crystal under her paw. "That much is true. I allowed the battle to continue, in fact. Our boarding ship was close enough to come aboard theirs, but if both who would contest me for this... Dark Star, you called it? If they were weakened, it would make it more likely I could gain control of it." She had to think hard. "I remember watching them fight. Ingvar was definitely there, and every wound the Aggron inflicted upon him - it only seemed to regenerate within seconds. Had that Aggron not figured to attack the Wise Master instead, I feel that is who I may have fought for this." Petrina ran her mind into overtime. The closer she got to the moment she took the crystal, the hazier her memories became. "There was a scramble on the deck for it. Fortunately, trying to race against an Aggron is as easy as it sounds.. but when I tried to utilise the power I'd seen this crystal produce... It shook. Like, an earthquake almost. I could feel the power working through it... I believe that power rendered me helpless for a time. I felt like I had been drawn into it, a million spirits swirling around me. There was one hooded figure who explained what they were to me..." Remembering her time in the crystal's mind as it were... it was giving Petrina quite the headache. She didn't want to go back there.

    Upon the mention of the hooded figure, the Emperor and Garland exchanged curious glances, but said nothing. They kept listening to Petrina's tale.

    "... the spirits say they judge everyone who wields the crystal. It was Ingvar himself that decreed I was unfit to wield it." She strained, trying to remember his exact threat. Her voice changed somewhat, trying to imitate him. "I will do everything I can to see you buried beneath snow, and not the snow which your kind can survive. Wield this gem any longer, or give it to one of your comrades, I dare you, for my memory will haunt you forever then." Her voice returned to normal as her impression ended. Repeating his exact words had taken her back to that moment and it had made her shiver. "I would be lying to tell you that it does not concern me, however... my mind is perhaps more expendable than some others who might be able to wield it."

    Cyrus nodded solemnly, "that is how it must be, it seems... the news is disturbing. Are those manifestations real? Or at they just some trick, some defense mechanism of the crystal? Ingvar's attacks were as real as they could be, I hear, so this must not be a mere illusion... and if it is real, then that is even more disturbing."

    "The crystal has memory," Garland said, "or so Keeper said. Yes, we found Keeper in the Obelisk and acquired one more of the transparent crystals," he addressed Petrina's look. "It remembers its wielders. Ingvar said it himself, though, they are perhaps nothing but memories from the crystal's perception, which must be many times vaster than ours, in order to re-create them so faithfully... a dangerous tool, indeed. I am not certain we should allow Vanguard to wield this thing, I am not certain if we should let anyone near it, in fact."

    "What do you think should be done, Vanguard?" Emperor Cyrus inquired.

    Petrina hung her head. "I do not doubt that this thing poses great risk to my mind, if not my life directly. But I think about how much I have lost... and if I can save even a single life with this crystal, then any risk to my mind or my own life is irrelevant. I do not like to make it apparent, Emperor, but..." Petrina hung her head lower, trying to hide her tears welling up again "...since I ordered my team to die, I have had no concern over my own life. I am an acceptable risk, if you would be willing to take it. You have no need to concern over my heart, either. I will sooner die than betray my brothers or sisters. I swear by it, if I fear this thing may take control, I will take my own life so it cannot."

    Emperor Cyrus was left brushing his icy beard thoughtfully, examining Petrina with the same look he gave her since she'd entered the tent. He silently admired her selflessness, a trait which he, as Emperor of Exathor, should not possess at a time like this. Her bravery, however, inspired him. He felt like it would be a pity to let the crystal destroy her, but at the same time, it was her decision... "Fate has been cruel to you," the Beartic said in a serious, yet gentle manner, "if holding onto it is the option you choose, I will not object. You have earned the right to do as you please with your fate."

    Petrina took a long, deep sigh before she responded, flicking the crystal back into her tail. "Fate has not been cruel. It punishes me for my mistakes, for allowing my friends to die when they didn't need to."

    The Beartic covered his forehead, rubbing it with his claws, obviously his thoughts having jumped elsewhere. "Still, we won't be leaving you unattended. We'll try to figure this out... you mentioned a hooded man, inside the crystal, who claimed to be your ally? Is that correct? What was he like?"

    Petrina shook her head. "I cannot remember. He was large, but his cloak disguised exactly what species he belonged to. I set to change my detractors' hearts before I would speak with those who chose to be my allies. I did not spend much time with him." Petrina hoped she would see this ally again within the crystal. She would do it differently.

    "Then? What happened next?" Garland inquired. "With those opposed to your will, that is."

    "They rather succinctly told me what I could go do and booted me out of the crystal." Petrina did not like to dwell on this part already. She didn't want to be reminded of how she carried so many spirits that hated her.

    Garland and Cyrus shared a look. "What would Keeper deduce in this case?" Cyrus wondered out loud. It was known that as a prince, he had been tutored by the Keeper himself, along with Garland and Achilles. Cyrus combined good traits these three men, whom he knew ever since he was a child, passed down on him, so it wasn't hard for him to guess how one of them would think. "I know. I find it strange that those apparitions maintain their free will, despite being nothing but memories. If they are simply memories, then it must be the crystal itself which opposes your will... that is even stranger. Regardless of that, perhaps that hooded man is your only hope of staying true and wielding the crystal properly."

    Petrina weakly nodded. "I cannot say for sure this crystal will take me in again. I shall seek this spirit if it happens again... but I will not hold out false hope of even meeting him, even less him still being helpful."

    "Let us hope for the best," Garland said, "I will have Maywell look after you."

    "It is appreciated." Petrina smiled, even if it was a forced smile.

    "You have my leave to go," Emperor Cyrus said and he watched her go with a straight, strained face, although it was almost readily apparent that he pitied her.
     

    GastlyGibus

    I'm battin' a thousand!
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  • To Their Own Drummer
    |Tavhir Eldren, Isak Mategu.|​

    It has been nearly two days since this newly-formed army set forth from the village of Amoon. As night fell, the marching army had stopped to sleep with what little respite they had. The more alert among them stood watch for attackers, though any who would attack an army this size, even during sleep, was praying for death.

    However, away from the encampment, wandering on his own, was Tavhir. The Pawniard lived true to his title of Restless, finding himself once more unable to slumber. As tired as he would get, sleep had always found a way to escape him, and tonight was no different. Instead of tossing endlessly in his cot and disturbing the others, Tavhir figured it would be better to take a walk. Perhaps after that he could get a moment's rest.

    As he wandered, so did his mind. So much had happened in only a few short days; it all felt like such a blur. Vektor had been killed, Cyrus made emperor, and now they were off to Union City. The young boy's thoughts were racing from moment to moment, one event to the next. Tavhir took in a deep breath and exhaled, calming himself slightly.

    He took a few steps more, until he heard something - or someone - moving in the shadows. Tavhir didn't waste any time, quickly dropping low and scanning his yellow eyes across the forest, keeping still and silent.

    Out of the shadows walked a Buneary, holding its bandaged head as it walked, It paid no attention to the Pawniard and, obliviously, walked past it. Isak had thought walking out in the cool evening air of the forest would help alieve the massive pain that had been wracking his head ever since the adrenaline wore off. The nurse Audino that had treated him said he had overexerted his ears in that jump, and the recoil was strong enough to crack his skull a bit. The nurse did what she could, but, until it fully healed, he was stuck with the headaches.

    That would probably be bearable if the Gold Tribe had had any respite following the battle at Amoon. Instead of the calm after the storm of battle, the Gold Tribe, alongside the forty thousand or so troops in the new army, had begun to march toward Union City. The noise of such a large number of troops marching was a cacophony for him. Even during the night, when the marching ceased, the noise was replaced by the endless, idle chatter of thousands of voices.

    It was driving him cr-

    "Wai.. The Deft?" Tavhir said harshly in disbelief. "What are you doing out here? I was very near killing you just now!"

    It took Isak a second to stop complaining to himself and look to face the voice behind him. He took another second, before responding. "Kill me? Can't a guy walk around in peace for once?" He groaned as his headache flared up again.

    Tavhir grunted once, standing up straight again and giving Isak an annoyed glance. "I thought you were an enemy. What are you even doing out here?" he asked.

    "Trying to get away from the noise," Isak replied, returning the annoyed glance. "I thought walking around in the dark would help me clear my head... is that why you're here?"

    "Can't sleep," Tavhir replied, giving a shrug. "Figured I'd go for a walk myself, rather than keep my comrades up with my tossing and turning."

    "That's noble of you... I guess." Isak removed his paw from his head, and curiously looked at the Pawniard. "Are you stuck with a headache too?"

    Restless shook his head. "No. Just can't sleep." He spoke more calmly this time, taking a spot on the ground and crossing his legs. "Got a lot on my mind, I guess."

    Isak looked to the side for a moment to ponder something, before looking at the Pawniard again. "What is on your mind, 'Restless'?"

    "Just... recent events, is all," Tavhir replied. He didn't particularly feel like going very in-depth, considering he didn't know Isak very well and that he wasn't quite in the mood for conversation when he had walked out here. "Mostly just me hoping that Union City doesn't attack us on first sight."

    "They probably won't." Isak had to ponder the topic before responding. "They just wanted Dareon to step down, right? Well, now Prince Cyrus is the Emperor.." He was reluctant to mention the forty thousand troops that Emperor Cyrus had at his command, as well. Not even the walled Union City could withstand the sound of their marching... probably.

    "Can't say that for sure," Tavhir said, resting his head on the flat end of his hand. "They seemed pretty quick to turn their backs on both the Emperor and the Gold Tribe. Who's to say they won't stab us in the back again?" He sighed once, idly poking at the small patches of snow on the ground. "Almost as if they didn't want us to win. Rotten traitors..." he grumbled.

    "I don't want to defend them, Tavhir, but..." Isak paused to wince at his headache before continuing, "These civilians probably realize that there is something more at stake here than just territory. Thrace... Yveltal... the spirit of death herself. Have you considered what it must be like for a civilian right now?"

    Tavhir grimaced. "In that case I'd expect them to support their defenders. They practically handed us to Vektor on a silver platter." He tone grew slightly irritated; he could see where Isak was coming from, though he himself couldn't believe it. He sighed, drawing circles in the snow. "We've got it hard enough with the Crimson Crusade and that damn Death Bird; then our own citizens just turn around and abandon us."

    Returning the grimace, Isak grabbed his head again as his head throbbed. He had to wrap this conversation up. Gritting his teeth, he worked up the nerve for one last comment. "Whether they have truly abandoned us waits to be seen tomorrow, Tavhir." Letting out a sigh, he continued. "I think I should get back to walking. My head is hurting very badly." He didn't wait for a reply as he turned back to his original route.

    "Alright then," Tavhir replied, not moving from his spot on the ground. "I think I'll sit here for a while. Er... hope your head gets better," he added.

    Isak responded to the gesture by raising his free paw as a wave, and then walked off, further into the forest. The Pawniard, meanwhile, decided to try his hand at meditating again, like Noah showed him on the airship to Stoneyard. He closed his eyes and remained still, hoping to calm his jumbled thoughts before the night was over.
     
    3,411
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    • Seen May 5, 2024

    Cassandra, Tavheer and Cyrus



    The last day of the march to Union City, the snowfall had ceased entirely. The sky was crystal clear, the only clouds in the sky were creamy white, flying in the southern skies beyond Exathor. Visibility had never been better; from the fields of Union City's plantations, the Gold Tribe in the vanguard of the massive army could see Fargal Keep, far in the south, very well. The north, though, was plagued by darkness; if one looked back where they'd come from, they would think the sun had already set. It wasn't a storm that was blocking the sun between the northern mountains where Telmor was, it was as if light was being diminished. Thrace's dark aura was credited for it.

    The people of the plantations rushed to meet the army, having received news of the making of the new Emperor. Lots of farmers and merchants were there and Emperor Cyrus had to walk in the front and be surrounded by the entire Gold Tribe, and the Emperor's Shield, to prevent any of the citizens from getting too close. The Beartic responded to the farmer's cheers by waving his arm and smiling at them. Some of them fell on the ground, in a show of loyalty, but Garland told his brothers and sisters to pull the few who did it up. The fanatic ones joined the march to Union City, and the forty thousand of the entire host had their spirits lifted with song and dancing by the commoners.

    A cold wind blew out of the north, against their backs, but it bothered no one. The soldiers had forgotten about Thrace. All their attention was drawn to the new Emperor and how he behaved, how he inspired the people to follow him, to be loyal and have good faith in him. Emperor Cyrus could see his entire army in formation behind him, now that the view had changed from interminably grey to crystal clear. He knew things would work out this way if people were shown just a bit of the love Dareon neglected to show them.

    "We are nearing Union City, Your Highness," Thresh said, floating next to him as he walked. "We will be there in about an hour. I cannot be certain about the conditions there, though."

    "The gates remain closed, the messengers did not return," the Emperor said.

    "There may be complications, Your Highness."

    "Summon me Restless, and his sister-in-law, Peacekeeper, of the Gold Tribe. I will have a word with them."

    Moments later, Tavhir and Cassandra had been brought to the new Emperor. They both gave a respectful bow, with Cassandra stepping forward towards Cyrus. "You summoned us, your highness?"

    Upon seeing the Lilligant and the Pawniard, Cyrus adopted a stoic, but welcoming smile that diminished as soon as he spoke. "I did," he said firmly, "the gates of the city are shut, and messengers we sent ahead of the march have not returned," he went straight to the point. "As my father granted the Militia's request, there is no reason for them not to accept negotiators at a time like this. Restless and Peacekeeper, Reaching Mind and Steamroller, you are to go tell the leader of this... farce," he said in distaste obvious for the Militia, "Gryan Darkmantle, to open the gates, or face relentless attack. Do underline our numbers, and what they constitute, should we lay siege."

    He inclined his upper body so he was at the sibling's height and said confidentially, in a less formal manner, "it might be a dangerous thing to do, but you have got us backing you up from outside. They will never dare harm you. If they do, it will be their doom."

    Cassandra nodded in agreement, giving another bow in response. "I'll gather our group together. We'll get that gate open."
     

    GastlyGibus

    I'm battin' a thousand!
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  • Tavhir and Emperor Cyrus

    Cassandra turned around, leaving Cyrus to find the rest of her comrades. Tavhir went to follow her as well.

    "Restless," Cyrus called out, "let Cassandra fetch the others. Walk with me!"

    Tavhir stopped, looking towards Cyrus with a curious expression. He approached slowly, but not fearfully; his time in Amoon had showed him Cyrus was more amiable than he first appeared. "What is it, your highness?"

    "What qualms have you with death, Tavhir?" he asked in a straightforward manner, though in a quiet voice. Only Thresh heard him, and Thresh said nothing, he only kept looking forward, blind and deaf.

    "What do you mean?" the Pawniard asked with a raised eyebrow, walking beside the former prince.

    The Beartic brushed the cheek of his fur skeptically, as if, looking down, choosing his words. "We don't have much time," he said in a low voice, "so I will get to the point. I am anxious about Gryan's intentions. Has he made a pact with the nobles inside the city? If he has, I am walking into a trap like a Rattata here. I trust you won't tell of my thinking to anyone - it's too risky for such things to be heard. You do realize that if there is a plot against my life, if we are not united when Thrace comes, we will all fall? Gryan Darkmantle. I know him, he was an acquaintance, fierce libertarian, but it has been years since I last saw him, and after the power he assumed with the People's Militia, the nobles may have corrupted him. I am being assuming here, but if this man is my enemy secretly," he looked at Tavhir now, his gaze convincing, sure and solid, "he needs to be taken out, before he has the chance of creating further conflict."

    Tavhir grimaced, looking up at the Beartic. "Are you asking if I would be prepared to kill to secure this alliance?" He looked down at his bladed hands, twisting them slightly, as if inspecting them. "If this Gryan is indeed our enemy, then I will not hesitate to eliminate him, if that is what you wish."

    Cyrus's eyes remained on Tavhir, his expression revealing only a bit of his concern. Then, he turned his gaze from him. "You are a valuable ally, Restless," he said formally, speaking normally now. "And a reasonable person. You understand what's important. Go with the others, and guard your sister-in-law well."

    The Pawniard nodded. "Negotiation isn't my best strength... but I'll guard them to the best of my ability." He then took his leave to return to his sister and the others. He most likely wouldn't be of much help with diplomacy, but if trouble showed up, he'd be ready.
     

    SV

    See You Space Cowboy
    3,393
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    • Seen Feb 7, 2022

    Gerrick & Romulus - Two Unlikely Brothers


    Crimson Dawn: A Tale of Conquest (IC)



    Braving the snowy peaks of Montajo Range was quite a feat for both brothers, Haxorus and Krookodile, who were both weak to ice and the cold. Romulus had to take this path again, southwest of Amoon Village, turning his back to the epic battle that was being concluded in the far away yonder, to avoid meeting any returning troops. The first few days, after the battle, the weather was clear, despite the cold. Every morning, he stood on a mountain peak that allowed him a good view to Vigil's Forest below him, and he saw Lord Teneth retreating from his attack on Amoon, then afterwards the Otori abandoning their village and joining forces with the Hesperians, who were about to crush them a few hours prior to the grand announcement Dareon made, that echoed even in the tallest peaks of Exathor. Romulus had smirked when he heard that the Ampharos had felled the Drapion in combat - it's what he expected would have happened.

    He had to drag Gerrick along, forcefully at first, and he was always on his guard for any tricks the crook would try to pull. He made sure they settled down to rest during the day, when the element of the dark wasn't there to veil Gerrick's escape, if he attempted any; during those hours, Romulus slept for only three hours while standing up, facing towards the Krookodile, barely closing his eyes.

    Gerrick was filled with a mixture of emotions during their trip out of Amoon Village, most prominent of which was relief. He was glad to finally put that accursed cell behind him and leave the battlefield where anything could have happened. Though it was in less than favorable conditions, at least this way he wouldn't die from a stray flamethrower setting the prison on fire or being poisoned in his cell without a chance to escape. Nothing, in his eyes, was worse than the rot he would have experienced in that cell.

    Romulus was on the Krookodile like glue from the get-go, which didn't leave any room to maneuver or plan for an escape. But he knew it was only a matter of time before the Haxorus slipped up. Though they seemed to have departed from their initial professions, at their cores, Romulus was still once a member of the Gold Tribe, and Gerrick was a brigand. There could be a limit to what Romulus could be willing to do, but there was no end to Gerrick's depravity.

    They traveled together through the quiet, snowy peaks, despite a nasty, increasingly dangerous snowstorm that forced them to stop frequently. Everything was deep grey around them, visibility almost non-existent. Romulus kept checking his compass, as not to get lost, and often - every few seconds, in fact - glanced at Gerrick, who would have tried his luck in an escape through the snow. But the snowstorm didn't seem to let up, and if Gerrick tried to escape, he would be lost in the mountains without a compass and he would probably die of the cold or starvation.

    Snowfall had grown so fierce that Romulus had to shield his eyes. He was fed up with this difficulty, so he decided they would sleep it out. He headed for the side of the path in the mountain, where rock was visible, and started smelling. They walked for two miles like this, until Romulus suddenly started kicking the wall ferociously with quick, savage hits. Once it was cracked, he body slammed it, and here he was, inside a small cave. There were small wilds inside - Bunnelby, who squeaked in fear, cowering in the corner. Romulus dragged his brother inside the cave and got to work.

    Few minutes later, they had started a small fire with what little wood Romulus had picked on the way; it was half wet, though, so it gave out a lot of smoke, which Romulus didn't mind. He sat cross-legged next to it, eating the rodent he'd skewered and roasted, watching his brother do the same. He chewed loudly, not bothering to close his mouth - a habit that ran in the Errias family. And surprisingly, since he hadn't said a word all day, he said, "I like it better with smoke. Changes the taste."

    Gerrick sloppily devoured his own piece of meat in a manner similar to Romulus. Whenever a bone or two had managed to slip in between his teeth, he'd crunch them up and then spit them off into the corner of the cave. He had begun having a small competition with himself on how far he can spit the bones he chewed to pass the time, seeing as Romulus was quiet their entire journey despite Gerrick commenting a few times earlier on in the trip. So when his brother did finally say something, Gerrick looked up to him in somewhat of a surprise.

    "Does it? I didn't really notice," Gerrick replied as he examined his half-eaten meal. He twirled it around in his claws to see if he could visibly see any difference to what he was used to. "Then again, any food is good food after bein' in a prison."

    Romulus snorted disdainfully, and spoke with a mouthful of food, "you speak as if you've spent lots of time behind bars." It was almost a question; he couldn't be entirely sure what Gerrick had been through. They hadn't seen each other since they were kids!

    "Yeah, you could say that," Gerrick responded as he dug back into the rodent. He chewed off a large part of the side, hearing the bones snap between his teeth. In his open mouth, he separated the juicy flesh from the crunching bones and spat out the trash to the far end of the room as far as he could. He smirked as he saw the bones go the furthest yet. "Anyone who's done my sorta work has. If they say otherwise, they'd be lyin'."

    Romulus was quiet now, listening to the sound of the fire, his judging gaze fixed on his brother across the dancing flames. He was a vile creature... but they were brothers. The memory of their cruel father came vivid to him; he was a Haxorus covered with scratches, just like Romulus, in fact, his son was the very image of him, only much, much younger. Romulus was the only one of the brothers to have taken from his father; the other two were Krookodile, like their mother.

    Alonsus was already studying in ECUL, and when it was time for the summer break, he came home and the three siblings played together in the mountains nearby. Romulus remembered that one summer, when their father, old and tired though still quite strong, forced them to stand in a line in their cave. He'd grabbed Romulus's head, then a Fraxure, and put his face close to his, and whispered, "Family is everything". He repeated that out loud for the others to hear as well. Then, he said, "that is why you should go bring your old father something valuable."

    The old, scarred face of his father faded with the flames. "Those times, when father asked us to bring him something he fancied... Alonsus and I brought him food, and were punished for it. And you brought him gold. Said you found it on the ground. You were stealing that gold."

    "Maybe I was," Gerrick replied with a shrug toward his brother over the crackling of the flames. "Does it matter? In the end, you got claws and I got a pat on the back. That's what I remember." The Krookodile finished his meal and spit out any remainder of the bones into his little 'bone corner'.

    "No big surprise you ended up like this," Romulus retorted, somewhat scornfully. His tone was less sharp, though, as if he understood.

    Gerrick chuckled loudly enough to cause a small echo to develop in the small cave. "Why? Because I stole some shine to impress the old man? You think that's why I am the way I am?" He laughed again and shook his head. "It may have been in my nature to be on the wild side sometimes, but the only one responsible for me bein' who I am is Exathor."

    Gerrick scooted in closer to the fire and extended his claws out in front of it to warm himself up. He exhaled and allowed the ember to warm his body. "The world's a cruel place, brother," The Krookodile continued to talk. "No one chooses the life they live, but circumstance and position puts us where we are and tries its best to keep us there. For every fat noble or purty Gold Tribe member sittin' nice and cozy in their lit homes with warm fires and full tables, there's a thousand more of us in the wilds. Sometimes, life makes you do things in order to keep goin'. To survive. That's when you learn about your true family. The ones that keep your heart beatin', long after everyone else that could be just like you are swimmin' with the Goldeen."

    Romulus reflected upon those words. He identified with Gerrick, there was truth in those words that he'd observed himself in his lifetime. That wasn't an excuse to become a thief, but Romulus wouldn't judge him so harshly for that part of his lifestyle anymore. It's not like Romulus was a saint himself. He'd done his share of killing, and he'd done his share of trickery as well. Morality wasn't one of the top qualities he was known to have. But he had something that Gerrick did not: loyalty. He could expect anything from a person with no loyalty.

    "What is a surprise," Gerrick continued, "was how you ended up like this," The Krookodile gestured to the cave around them and shook his head. "What makes a 'mon leave a bunch o' smug, self-righteous fools he's so tight with and kill those he was loyal to?" Gerrick questioned. "That's not what I thought you'd be like. You and bro were the 'high road' folks."

    Romulus's features became sharp in a frown. He was silent for a long time, letting the flames in front of him do the talking. But in the end, he decided silence wasn't what Gerrick needed to hear. With a slight scoff, he said, "you said it yourself. To survive. Honor is good and all, but it's useless if you're dead." He crossed his arms, shutting his eyes, his face tightening even more. "Take Alonsus, see what they did to him, they butchered him like a wild in the slaughterhouse. He's so dead, he won't be serving anyone anymore." His mind raced to their father suddenly, and he added, "you remember the other lesson he taught us? Don't give a single inch to anybody. Don't let them take from you. Take all you can get from them. That's what I do, I keep doing things to survive. Most of the time." The Haxorus exhaled hot air from his nostrils in a cynical, mirthless laugh, "turns out, we aren't so different after all."

    "And it only took you tryin' to kill me to figure it out," Gerrick laughed along with the Haxorus. He once more inched in closer to the flames until the tips of his fingers were almost touching them. "Never underestimate the power of sittin' around a fire while freezing your arms off," He said with another laugh.

    "Ah, what are we doin' here, Romulus?" Gerrick questioned after his laughter. "Sittin' 'round, waitin' for the storm to die down to go after this Caretaker. What does any of it matter? I think you and I both know how this whole mess will end. When that final storm comes, the only type of 'mon there'll be are those that are in Thrace's way, and those that aren't. You and me?" Gerrick points to himself and Romulus. "We're survivalists. We shouldn't be involved in this anymore. We should just... go. And leave all this behind."

    Romulus stared at him, rather uninspired...

    "... No," he decided heavily; something that burdened the Haxorus was given away in his dark eyes. "You haven't seen Thrace up close, have you? You'd be a fool not to side with her... and it seems you have. You work for the Caretaker. If the Crusade prevails, there won't be a place on Exathor you can hide if you don't fight for... them." With his legs crossed, he leaned against the wall of the cave, a bit more relaxed. He drew a flask from his belt and drank thirstily. Once he was done, he said, "the Family - those in front of and behind the scenes of the rebellion - don't know who leads them. They only hear of his title, Caretaker. Teneth's hired me to find out who he is and better understand his motives. He's promised to give me a gold shower. Bury me with so much shine that I can live happily for the rest of my life, ten times over." Now, he leaned close, over the fire, to draw Gerrick's attention more direly to his words. "If you help me out," he said in an honest tone, "I will give you every last bit of that gold. You know I don't give a rattata's ass about any of that, and since you fancy it so much, you can have it. Give me the Caretaker for it."

    Gerrick eyed his brother. He tried to look interested and appreciative of the offer, but inside he was suspicious. He didn't think it would be that easy to sway the thoughts of his brother like this. Even if he didn't agree with Gerrick completely, he had appeared to give him some leverage, which Gerrick didn't think he would get. The offer was a great one, one that Gerrick would be happy to accept. But it all seemed a bit too convenient. Perhaps, Gerrick wasn't the only Ekans in the family.

    "That sounds like a damn good deal to me!" Gerrick yelled out happily. "I think that's a fair trade. I get what I want, you get what you want. Everybody wins!" He stated with a grin. On the inside, however, Gerrick began to think and plan rapidly. He would have to find a way out of this. And he would have to do it quickly.

    Had Romulus already forgotten that, few days ago, he was about to kill his brother for dishonoring their other brother? His behavior certainly made it seem so. The Haxorus seemed like an impulsive person. But, men see things how they appear to be. Few experience how they truly are.
     
    Last edited:

    KajiVenator

    The Flame Huntzman
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  • Noise Discipline
    Beryl Ibha, Pendro Malis, Cassandra Eldren, Tavheer Eldren, and Garland Fordring

    The third day of marching. How time had flown. Just forty eight hours prior, this mixed army had set off from Isak's home, the village of Amoon, to the south. Their destination? The fortified Union City, the capital of Exathor, home of the Royal Family and the Gold Tribe. At least... it was their home, for a time. Beryl Ibha was not alert to the intricacies of the details of the situation, but it seemed that the citizens had rebelled against the rule of former Emperor Dareon Aurelius, which possibly lead to the coronation of former Prince Cyrus.

    Admittedly, Beryl was not interested in the politics of the situation. In her 43 years of life, she had never developed much of a taste for politics. In the grand scheme of things, regardless of her experience, she was a pawn to be moved at the command of the King. What would be accomplished in Union City would be something determined by the Emperor, and Beryl would see her orders through to completion. If she was ordered to attack, not even the walls of Union City would prevent her advance.

    For now, her orders were to march, and march she did. Standing with the remainder of the Gold Tribe, an admittedly small number, she was tasked with safely escorting the royal palanquin and the walking Emperor into Union City. She performed this task with pride, even as the trees of Vigil Forest retreated and the familiar plantations surrounding Union City replaced them. News of the coronation must have reached them before the troops did, as a number of civilians had lined up on the roadsides and were cheering at the sight of Emperor Cyrus... that will take some getting used to, Beryl thought to herself.

    Even at this distance, she could discern the white walls and blue spires. It was a refreshing sight, to say the least. After the Emperor was rightfully seated within the White Citadel, protected by his Shield and whomever else, Beryl would take advantage of the amenities offered within Union City and relax, even if only for a moment. Perhaps she would even stop off at home. Arceus knows, it had probably been a month she had been able to sleep in her own bed. Keeping pace, her mind drifted to her memories of the city, and her life there when she was not at war. It seemed like such a foreign concept to her. Most of all, she was looking forward to a nice, warm bat-

    She was pulled from her thoughts by a sudden, boisterous outburst of cheering from somewhere else in the regiment. At least it wasn't the Gold Tribe... It looked to be some troops the Otori tribe. Were some of them... dancing? Beryl had half a mind to go over and order the guilty parties to shut it. While it was an indeed exciting thought, reaching Union City, it was not something that should cause a soldier to break rank, especially not in the presence of the Emperor. Lord Kymotonian of Amoon should have kept them far better disciplined than that... she shook her head. This was absolutely embarrassing. In all her years, she had never seen such a blatant disregard for context.

    The cheering only grew louder as time went on. More and more troops were joining in. Some had the decent sense to try to quell their fellow soldiers, but they were not having much luck. Beryl sighed, breaking out of formation herself to brush past some the Gold Tribe to where the Otori were fooling around. She did not seem to be the only one, either. A handful of other Gold Tribesmen had gotten the same idea, doing their part to calm the troops down. Beryl could hear one of them as he... panicked? Rather loudly, at that.

    "No no no no no! You can't be over there! You're meant to be over there! We're all meant to be walking in a scheduled formation- oh Arceus, everyone's going to be mad! We're doomed! This is it! Thrace is going to capitalise on our weakness and murder us all! Any second now! Oh, if only the masses had the time to read 'An Insight Into the Importance of Formation - Squares Aren't Just for Squares'... Actually, I think those might have been two different books..."

    As the voice tapered off, Beryl raised her trunk and trumpeted. As the chatter quieted, she knew she had their attention. Time to act like a drill sergeant. "Fall in, you lazy soldiers!" There was some idle chatter amongst those being ordered. "Did I stutter? I told you lot to Fall in, damn it!" She trumpeted again, and, this time, there was some movement as the troops resumed formation. "That is more like it. Now, get back to marching. Forward, MARCH!" Trumpeting one final time, the Otori quickly resumed marching toward the city. The Gold Tribe that had gone to calm the troops shuffled back to their own positions in line, and Beryl was about to follow suit when she heard the panicking voice again.

    "Loud noises!" The voice cried, seeking out its proper position in the formation. "Squares aren't just for squares, squares aren't just for squares..."

    Was the voice... getting closer?

    Breaking through a small crowd, the voice stopped muttering and revealed itself with a small 'eep'. The Metang before Beryl tapped its claws together, glancing to each side before murmuring out something that could be construed as speech.

    "Erm, you're, erm- that's, uh... that's my spot. Sorry. Hi, erm... squares aren't, uh..."

    Beryl eyed the Metang curiously. "A silver... Metang? How long has it been since I have seen such a sheen..." She paused for a moment, faded memories of silver and gold Metagrosses bubbling to the top of her mind.

    "They're um... not just for squares..." The Metang continued. "It's, erm- it's still my, uh.. my spot... please."

    "Oh, uh... Right. I'll move over." Turning around, Beryl moved out of the way of the Metang, who promptly began floating forward from the spot she was standing in previously. Walking as he floated, she asked him a question. "You... would not happen to be related to the Metagrosses Alamas, or Krisa, would you?"

    "Whew, thanks, sorry - formation reinstated, things are all- sorry, what?" The Metang, Pendro asked after finding his rightful place in the world.

    She repeated the question. "Are you related to the Metagrosses Alamas or Krisa?"

    "Who? Oh, right, sorry - yes! Those are my parents, they, erm... you know them?"

    "Not exceptionally well, but we have met before. They retired after the first Stygian rebellion, but they were well-known within the Gold Tribe. Alamas "Stalwart" and Krisa "Steel Phalanx" Malis... I think they had a child before retiring, as well. A Beldum. That was you, was it not?"

    Pendro chuckled nervously. "Well, unless I'm in for a sudden estranged family reunion, I'd expect so... I, erm... hello."

    "Ah, where are my manners? Here I am walking down memory lane, and all you know about me is that I knew your parents. If you're anything like your father, you are probably as nervous as can be. I am Beryl. Beryl Ibha. "Steamroller", but I prefer Beryl. And you are?"

    "Oh! I- erm, I forgot that too, that's, uh- Pendro! I'm Pendro 'Reaching Mind' Malis - the, erm, the 'Reaching Mind' bit, that's the, erm... the title, that's not a part of the name, I'm Pendro - sorry... erm... was my dad really, erm... this nervous...?"

    "Perhaps he would have been," Beryl chuckled, "but your mother, Krisa, kept him in check well enough. He was more confident when she was around. Claw over head in love, you see."

    Reaching Mind laughed lightly. "Yeah, she would do that... heh, sucks for me, I guess. I just hope they, erm..." He shook his head. "They can handle themselves. If, erm... just as a favour, if you hear any news on Skyhaven, do, uh... do you think you could let me know?"

    Before Beryl would have the chance to answer, Cassandra came running up to the pair. "Ah, Pendro, I'm glad I found you so quickly." She gave each of them a nod in greeting, turning towards Union City. "The city is not opening the gates; Emperor Cyrus has instructed us to negotiate and secure entrance." She then turned to the Donphan, noticing her Gold Tribe insignia on her tusk. "I don't believe I've met you. What is your name?"

    "Ah, hello there, sister," Beryl responded as her conversation with the Metang ended. "My given name is Beryl, but my title is 'Steamroller'... Any idea why Union City is not letting us inside?"

    "I do not know," Cassandra responded. "Though that is what we're being sent to find out. I've been instructed to find you as well, so it's quite fortunate that you and Pendro happen to be in the same place," Cassandra said with a small smile.

    "Er... hi." Pendro murmured with a little wave.

    "Well, if the Emperor recommended us, who are we to say no?" Glancing at the Metang, she asked "Shall we leave, Pendro?"

    The Metang blinked. "Erm... hi. I mean, uh, yes, sure."

    "Lead the way, sister," Beryl said, looking back at the Lilligant.

    Just then, Tavhir came running up to the trio. "Have you gathered together the group?" he asked, looking over the trio. He didn't wait for an answer, looking up at Cassandra. "Good. Are we ready, then?"

    Cassandra nodded an affirmative, looking towards both Beryl and Pendro. "I believe we are. We should head out straight away."

    * * *

    The army with the gold ones in the head arrived outside Union City's mighty thirty-feet tall walls. The sky was grey and snow was lightly falling. Prince Cyrus did not send the messengers before those on the walls saw his army. The joined forces of Otori and Hesperia camped outside the walls of the city; they were so numerous that he didn't even need to split them and command them to guard each gate (west and south) separately. The army was big enough to camp from the southern gate to the west, blocking them completely, and still remaining bulky in size. Union City was under the threat of a siege.

    The guards on top of the walls greeted the army eagerly, and they even saluted towards the direction of Emperor Cyrus, although he had not officially revealed himself. He and his father's palanquin were behind the entire Gold Tribe and an Otori wing, well protected, well out of range of anything that could be thrown from the gates, and also half-well out of range of sight, in the grey mist of the snowfall. Psychics surveyed the area for any fishy activities, and the farmers and riff raff that followed the Emperor gathered in the gates, shouting for the guards to open them.

    The walls, whiter than snow, stood tall in front of the negotiators of the Gold Tribe. An Aerodactyl flew off the walls and stood in front of the west gate.

    "Open the gates," Lord Rhoy of Skyhaven shouted to him from several feet back.

    "I can't do that yet," the Aerodactyl replied.

    "And why would that be so?" came a loud bellow from in front of the Aerodactyl. The voice seemed to originate from the Donphan in the group.

    "The Lords and Ladies of the Council of Nobles demand that certain agreements be met, before Emperor Cyrus may reclaim the Citadel. If His Highness would come with me, I shall teleport him to them at once."

    "Are you serio-" Tavhir began, before his sister Cassandra held up her hand to silence him. She gave the Pawniard a look, and Tavhir took the message clearly. I'll handle this.

    "With all due respect, we will have to decline that offer," Cassandra said. "The demand of the people's militia for Dareon to step down has been met. We wish to secure entry peacefully, and though it is not our intention..." she turned briefly to the armies behind her, then back to the Aerodactly, "we are fully prepared to enter by force, if necessary." She gave a small bow, before continuing. "Perhaps, it would be well-suited for us to go in the Emperor's stead? We only wish to facilitate communication and put and end to hostilities."

    "Well-suited or not, that is how it shall happen," Garland said; he was standing near the party. He motioned to them sharply, go. The Aerodactyl was forced to oblige. He brought his fingers close to his belt, where a small teleportation gem was hanging from a golden chain.

    "Allow me to transport you to Vigil's High Hall, in that case."
     

    GastlyGibus

    I'm battin' a thousand!
    174
    Posts
    10
    Years
  • Ignoble nobles.
    |Beryl, Cassandra, Pendro, Tavhir.|

    The view outside the window was that of the whole city, white and gold, grey clouds blown by the winds through it. A thunderstorm was playing off in the distance to the east, far beyond the edge of Exathor, and the horizon was dark and moody with snow-filled clouds. That was the first thing those who teleported with the Aerodactyl saw. It was the very top office, at the highest tower of the White Citadel; Vigil's High Hall, the chamber where Zane "Vigil" Tyrael commanded his operations from as the first leader of the newly founded Gold Tribe, nearly five hundred years ago.

    Now, it served as a council chamber for important meetings between the Council of Exathor and the noble overlords of Union City. All of which had occupied seats around a circular table right now. The Stygians were on the right, with the matching color of grey and yellow for their chair and cushion's leather and the Hesperians on the left, red and blue for their seats.

    One of the guards, another Aerodactyl, presented the lords vocally. "Gold Tribe, you are in the presence of the head of Union City's nobility, which, I was asked to remind you, you are required to protect by laws stated in the Constitution, therefore none of whom are your enemies."

    He cleared his throat and raised his wing, gesturing widely. "On the side of the Hesperians, I present to you Lord Pontus," a Masquerain, "Lady Festia," a Cherrim, "and Lord Memnon," a Pansear.

    "On the side of the Stygians, here are Lord Eos," a Sawsbuck, "Lord Themis," a Maractus, "Lady Rhea," a Quagsire, "and, of course, Lord Ares."

    Between the right and the left side, another man was sitting; a heavy Crustle with its pincers put on the table; that was Lord Ares of Ascanfell, younger heir of the Eshir command and overlord of his tribe here in Union City, arguably the most powerful of the powerful lords and ladies of the nobles, and the look on his face made it evident that it was because of him that the city was still on quarantine. He was the reason the gates were closed.

    It wasn't uncommon to hear of Lord Ares's conflict with Dareon in political matters; tension between them heated situations very quickly for most of the time they held their axioms. The Emperor had not left to command the defender's forces in the Deathbringer's Mark because he was afraid that this man, who had all the means to assume more power, would lay claim to the White Citadel and even proclaim himself Emperor, with the right support. Of course, one could argue that Lord Ares had saved Dareon from going to the Mark, where there was a chance that he would have died.

    Nevertheless, he was responsible for a number of riots of the people of Union City and small and short rebellions by roused nobles; he had a reputation for being serious, unsmiling, and sometimes cruel and merciless, albeit a shrewd politician.

    Upon the huge shell of the Crustle that looked like a rock lay a small Ledyba, who was watching the Gold Tribe with about as much curiosity, or boredom, a pet can show. "Ah, the Gold Tribe," the Crustle said, unsmiling, "I anticipated you would come with Cyrus..."

    Cassandra calmly approached the round table, putting on a stoic face. Truthfully, she was a bit anxious, being in the presence of such nobility, but she quickly cast the fear from her mind. She had enough experience with the lords and ladies and Skyhaven as a child; the Lilligant knew her way around royalty. "We are here in his stead," Cassandra stated respectfully. "The Emperor has appointed us to act in his stead. I trust this will not be an issue?"

    "I would assume not, Cassandra," chimed up Beryl as she took her seat on top of a cushion placed nearby the table. "It is not as if the Lords and Ladies have given us an acceptable alternative." Cassandra took a seat as well next to Beryl, with Tavhir silently sitting to the side of the Lilligant, his eyes scanning the nobles left to right. He silently wondered what they were thinking at this time.

    Beryl cleared her throat before continuing to speak. "I am sure you understand, your Lordships, but we cannot allow Emperor Cyrus to set foot in Union City until we know for certain that his safety will not be an immediate issue."

    "By all means," Lady Festia, the middle-aged Cherrim said, "that is understandable - we are not safe either, with the People's Militia riff raff carrying on like they do!" There was a slightly dramatic tone in her voice.

    "Notwithstanding, young Cyrus would do best to come..." Lord Themis, the Maractus, said.

    "Oh!" Lady Rhea, the aged Quagsire, let out, "I should like to see our new, promising Emperor clad in his crystal armor, with the Thunder Crown upon the fur of his head! That is what that lad, Darkmantle, wished for, isn't it?" The Quagsire looked at the Gold Tribe with a lazy smile that was entirely out of place. "The People's Militia are on the gates, ready to join him in a welcoming parade!"

    "The People's Militia can wait," Cassandra said, exuding a slight air of regality in her tone. "The purpose of this meeting was to discuss agreements on our entrance to the city, was it not?" The Lilligant held her head high, leaning forward slightly in her seat. "Now then, what are your terms?"

    "All business," Lord Themis joked, "I like that. Our terms are simple enough, I believe."

    The Crustle loudly cleared his throat, drawing attention. Lord Ares's red gaze fell on Cassandra. "I understand that some time ago, General Althalos of Stygia perished, regretably, slain by the other General, no less." He didn't sound so apologetic, though, only indifferent. His voice instantly turned to a height, although his serious tone and barrage of words kept everyone's ears occupied. "Then, two spots have been made vacant; Exathor cannot be left without Generals in such dark times. You understand. Why I have requested that our young Emperor is kept outside the city is that, precisely. The election of our two new Generals. My... our terms are that I am placed in the axiom of the General of Stygia, replacing the deceased Althalos Montforte."

    Silence permeated the room for a short while, the Crustle's statement sinking in. Pendro, who had up until now been silent, took a short breath before speaking aloud.

    "Er- surely, Lord Ares, that needn't be a term of any sort; if you're fit for the role of General of Stygia, then I'm sure the Emperor will appoint you. Even then, it doesn't really seem appropriate for such personal demands to be made, especially in this situation..."

    Beryl appreciated the Metang for speaking up first. "Indeed, Pendro. If he is qualified for the role, I am sure Emperor Cyrus would gladly agree to such a term... However, that brings up another question. There are two vacancies to be filled. If you are to be named one of the Emperor's Generals, who shall be named the other?"

    "Why, I do believe I am qualified," Lord Ares argued, "and this is indeed the perfect time for our new Emperor to appreciate the help I can offer him; as for who is chosen as the Hesperian General, I am not concerned." Something in his look, though, hinted that that was not true; as a Stygian General, he would want his counterpart to be significantly weaker than him, and therefore he would like to have a part in his election, but perhaps he was aware that the matter of the Hesperian General was out of his hands at the moment entirely. "I do not believe there is any Lord qualified for the position here, in this very room, so why must we bother ourselves with irrelevant questions?"

    "Is it an irrelevant question?" Cassandra noted, eyeing Ares inquisitively. "You seem very concerned with your own nation; I would think it a fair question to ask who should take the second vacant seat, considering you yourself brought up the issue to begin with."

    The Crustle narrowed his eyes, observing the one who spoke. "Alas," he said, "can there be done anything about it? If you have a proposition, let us hear it."

    "I was under the impression you would have one for us, considering you would not let us in until the matter was resolved," Cassandra stated. "Unless you mean to inform me you were not prepared for your own terms."

    Lord Ares patiently said, "Peacekeeper - is that correct? - we only have the means to elect one General in this meeting, the Stygian one; the fact that Exathor is in need for two Generals at the moment highlights the urgency of this election. My... ah, our terms, are that I am placed in the axiom of the Stygian General, due to our Realm's want of Generals in a dire time."

    Cassandra crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at the haughty Crustle before her. "You seem very sure of yourself. I have yet to hear what the rest of your peers have to say about your terms."

    "We all agree with the terms, of course!" Lord Eos said cheerfully, "that should be apparent."

    "I would have objected earlier were it otherwise," Lady Festia, the Cherrim, insisted.

    Silence, once again, fell upon the room as the Beryl glanced over the seven Lords and Ladies in the room. Their were no vocal detractors to the proposition but Beryl could discern that the agreement was not truly unanimous. Cassandra sensed it as well.

    "I see," Cassandra mused, placing a hand to her chin. "Well, if we are to elect a general for Stygia, then we must reciprocate for Hesperia." She thought for a moment... Ares was correct; there was nobody in the room currently qualified for the position. "Perhaps, if I might make a suggestion; Lord Vennson would be more than qualified for the position."

    The lords Ares and Eos exchanged swift glances, and Lady Festia looked suspiciously at the Lilligant. "He's your father, isn't he?" the Cherrim said with a tone of precedence and a slight smirk, eying her as if she was a fool; perhaps, among nobility, it would be considered foolishness to allow one's heir, Cassandra in this case, to become one with the brotherhood of Gold Tribe, as then they lost all hereditary rights. Cassandra, politically, would have no benefit by her father's ascension to General...

    "Ah!" Lord Eos exclaimed sharply, glancing sideways at Lord Ares for one more time, "it appears you would promote your father. A wise choice."

    "Indeed," Lord Ares agreed, and although he was serious and sturdy as a rock, his eyes were smiling inwardly. "Then I propose an alliance between Lord Vennson and I, Peacekeeper. I shall help him, with the influence I command in Skyhaven, to garner the support of the majority... and he and you shall assure our young Emperor right away of the truth, that I am his best option as the Stygian General."

    "Perhaps. We shall see," Cassandra stated, a sly tone in her voice. "If we are in agreement then, I assume we will be granted access into Union City?"

    "Not quite yet, I think," Lord Themis, the Pansear, spoke for the first time; he seemed skeptical, rubbing his chin.

    Even for one as unskilled at negotiation as Beryl, the next move was rather obvious. "We'll first need to reconvene with the Emperor to discuss the terms of this agreement, Cassandra." She looked at Lord Ares and spoke again. "We shall return, Lord Ares, with the Emperor's response to your terms."

    The Crustle gave a small nod, "that is acceptable. I will be expecting you in three hours."


    * * *

    The negotiations party was now back in the camp, outside the city walls, surrounded by Gold Tribe; Cyrus and they were inside his tent, now standing in front of them, expecting to hear the news. His face was patient and stoic, although it had somehow become known what the issue was.

    "Erm," Pendro began, tapping his claws together before raising one. "it had seemed initially that the lords and ladies of Union City - Lord, erm, Ares in particular - were, uh... perhaps a little uncooperative, or, erm... something. Regardless, some progress has been made... apparently-" He glanced at Cassandra. If the Metang was honest, it seemed like progress - though he wasn't sure which direction it was in. "Would you call that 'progress'? I think it's safe to say it's progress of a sort."

    Cassandra gave a nod to Cyrus. "The lords and ladies wish to find replacements for the two generals lost, Althalos and Vektor. Lord Ares seemed quite intent on nominating himself as the General of the Stygians, to which the other lords agreed." She crossed her arms, shaking her head. "I do not trust Lord Ares at all, but he was adamant in his proposal. What do you think of this?"

    Cyrus looked off to the side the moment Cassandra told him of Lord Ares's intentions. His sight wandered aimlessly to the tapestries hanging from the top of the tent.

    "I echo Cassandra's doubt," Tavhir spoke up, standing beside his sister. "There is more at stake here than simple formalities of bureaucracy; Ares is making a power play, and I don't trust him."

    "There is no reason to trust anyone on the other side of these walls," the Beartic mused, his claw fondling the fur of his snout, between his mouth and his nose. He was still looking to the side, deep in thought, when he said, "what else was said?"

    Cassandra continued, "Ares seemed wholly concerned with himself and his own election. According to him, the Hesperian position was 'irrelevant,' so I, well, I made a suggestion."

    The young Emperor seemed to catch up immediately; his eyebrows became arched and he turned his gaze upon the Lilligant. "Go on," he prompted.

    "As it stands right now," Cassandra said, "the two people being considered for the position are, of course, Lord Ares of the Eshir, and for the Hesperians, Lord Vennson of Skyhaven."

    Cyrus nodded, sucking on his teeth, observing her. "Lord Vennson," he repeated. "Your father..." his eyes darted to Tavhir, "and your father-in-law. I've never seen the man in person... you two, who know him best, describe him as best you can to me with a few words."

    Cassandra thought for a moment, placing a hand to her chin. "At the risk of sounding biased: strong, adamant, cares for the men under his command, as well as Hesperia and the union."

    "...honorable..." Tavhir added, almost whispering, as if speaking to himself.

    "Seems very reasonable," Pendro nodded. "From what I've, erm... read of him."

    The face of the Beartic was plain, neutral upon hearing the Gold Tribe speak. Once the siblings were done, he turned to the Donphan, who had remained silent. "And you? What have you to say about him?"

    Beryl bowed her head, eyes closed, before looking back at the emperor. "I have never had the pleasure of meeting Lord Vennson, personally, However, I do recall a Tropius by that name, fighting alongside my brothers and sisters over a decade ago, in my home of Pyrgos. The Windseer Rebellion, which put Lord Teneth into power. As Cassandra has said, he was indeed strong, using his leafy wings to whip up blistering winds in the midst of the desert, which would provide cover for other troops during a retreat." She paused for a moment, before continuing. "I am afraid I cannot recall anything more on the man. Still, this man fought with honor and respect for his troops, irrespective of his Nobility. I would be proud to serve under the man I recall."

    Cyrus didn't comment on the praise for Vennson. He clearly refrained from giving an opinion before he had made his choice. "If Lord Vennson is to be considered a candidate, he will have to stand up to the other candidates. I was of a mind to make Lord Rhoy of Skyhaven, the one in command of the Hesperian troop at the moment, General of Hesperia, but I postponed the awarding of the title till after we were settled in Union City... perhaps for the best. Except Lord Rhoy, there is Lord Halford. You must remember him; he commands twenty thousand men, and, although he is suspected to have helped with Vektor's cause, it would be prudent to consider him as a General, for the purpose of forging a strong alliance, now that his old one has crumbled thanks to my father. What do you all say?"

    Pendro raised a claw. "Just, erm, to err on the side of caution, it might be worthy to note that, uh, having such positions of power both occupied by Lords of, uh... questionable alignment might not be in the interest of safety. Lord Ares seemed quite comfortable in making personal demands, despite the army of forty-thousand on his doorstep which we had expressly informed them of our ability to use to enter the keep by force - and the city of civilians inside. Lord Halford, on the other hand, erm... well, he did seem to be, er... charging at us with an army... at Stoneyard... um... ultimately, in spite of the good phrase 'keep your friends close, and your enemies closer', erm... well, actually I never liked that phrase. Always thought it was a little unpleasant. So yes, probably best to keep someone a little more, erm... supportive, in mind for at least one of the positions."

    "I have to agree with Pendro, in a way," Cassandra added. "Is it wise to leave Halford, suspected to have aided in Vektor's attempted coup d'état, in a position of further power?" She grimaced a bit, before giving a small bow to Cyrus. "I offered the suggestion of my father not because of my relation to him, but because I know that he would do right by the people of Exathor. However, ultimately, the decision lies with you, your highness."

    The Beartic rubbed the back of his neck, looking off somewhere beyond the Gold Tribe before him. He'd put his hands close to his waist; steam billowed above his icy beard when he exhaled. Everyone waited for his response, some kind of tension building up. Cyrus thought... then, he said, "Lord Rhoy, Lord Halford and Lord Vennson... no matter how one looks at it, the whole military strength of the country is massive, and many times bigger than the Stygian military under my command. To grant one person with such power right now would be unwise... therefore," he decided, now looking down upon them, "all three will be Generals. Peacekeeper and Restless, get a teleporting courier to go to Skyhaven to give your father a letter you yourselves have written about our current situation here. Get another courier to Lord Halford, and tell him to convene with us in the White Citadel, but do not let him know that there will be three Hesperian Generals. Same with Lord Rhoy. And Steamroller... tell Lord Ares that I will grant him the title of the Stygian General."

    With a quick nod, Beryl quickly responded with a "Yes, sir," saluting Emperor Cyrus with her trunk.

    Cyrus's gaze travelled through the Gold Tribe gathered in front of him. "Keep what was said here silent; I trust you understand that no word of this must escape, for my deception to work."
     

    Greiger

    A mad mind... hehe
    2,016
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    12
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    • Age 33
    • Seen Oct 1, 2023
    A parade of cautious thoughts​

    Once more, there was another meeting called. Well, not one with everyone involved of course. In a way, it reminded Thrasher of those meetings he would have in the city. Those where he would enter a typical cafe. The only difference was that there were so many people in there that he could casually chat with his contact about every single detail of the act, and yet never be heart by any of the other patrons. It caused him to chuckle now that he thought on it. Now... he was there before the tent. He stepped on in and closed the flaps behind him. "Yes your highness?" He asked as he stood at attention, "More planning I take it? Unless you already have a plan worked up."

    "I do, as a matter of fact," Cyrus replied briskly. As the Primeape entered the tent, the Beartic glanced behind him, to the guards of the Shield, and said, "let no one disturb us." They vanished from sight. "Thrasher, Thrasher," the Emperor said from his cushion, shaking his head. "Entering the city like this is too great a risk. I fear there will be an attempt on my life... that is why I have gotten another Beartic to be my double for this necessary parade. The imperial palanquin will be following this double; my father won't be in it, but its curtains will be tightly shut. We will stay outside the city for now, and Garland will secretly teleport us to the right place." He waited to see the Primeape assassin's reaction.

    Thrasher was silent for a moment, then he opened his mouth to speak as he paced, "On the one hand, you are correct. It would help greatly if you aren't killed. Being with Garland and some seasoned Gold Tribe warriors is best for you and your father. The rebels are not stupid. They know you won't risk your health in such a silly event. They might be waiting in the palace in such a case, so wherever you all decide to teleport to... remember that anyone could try to strike out at you. I do lay caution on ghost types especially. Some can phase through walls and even floors."

    He stooped his pacing and looked back at Cyrus, "On the other hand, if your double is killed and you come out afterwards, it will show the people that you might... well, not trust them. But... I do believe that's a better alternative to dying. The people will understand why you had a double once that double is slain. I do fully support this course of action." The Primeape said with a firm nod.

    Cyrus was leaning forward from his cushion, both his elbows resting on his knees, his hands woven together. He nodded slowly, seriously, along with Thrasher. "My father and I will remain outside the city walls, hidden, with a group of Gold Tribe with us; but I want you to go with my double, as not to arouse suspicion - you and I are known to converse. But that is not the only reason. If there is an attempt on my double's life, I want you to do your best to stop it; restrain the assailant, and interrogate him, so as to learn who sent him."

    Thrasher nodded to that, "Of course your highness. I will stay with your double and we'll put on a full facade. I will lie to whoever I have to as well. Do you want me to confirm that I knew about such a plan later when you do reveal yourself?" He asked.

    "Do as you will," Cyrus replied rather indifferently, "I have another task for you, and for whomever you trust within the Tribe... you will head to the White Citadel and search it thoroughly - Garland will be with you, of course. Search everywhere, from the Vaults of Reflection beneath the fortress to the top offices of the towers, even to the gardens - every single mile of them. If you find anyone suspicious, or out of place, put them in the prison."

    Thrasher nodded once more, "Of course. With your double in the palace, who knows? Maybe the mon who captured you once before will show up again. We could strike two birds with one stone. Not only capture them and interrogate them, but also find out how they captured you the first time and if there are any spies within the ranks of the palace. In any case, I will protect my charge with my life. It has to look believable after all."

    Cyrus gestured with his hand dismissively. "You may go, then. Best of luck."


    ***


    The gates had opened before them. The troops of the Otori were to go in first, with Lord Kymotonian, the Trevenant, walking close to Cyrus's double, a Beartic who looked much like him from a far, with the Thunder Crown and his armor; no one close to him was aware of the difference. So, in the city they went, surrounded first by the Gold Tribe and then the Doublades of the Shield, who pushed the people to the sides of the road for the troops to pass.

    The People's Militia could have been any of those people gathered around them. Common civilians or armed warriors ready to go to war, they all cheered for the new Emperor Cyrus, who seemed to have garnered the love of the people even from such a young age, even as only the Crown Prince. Some people in the crowd were waving the white and gold flags of Union City, shouting their love and excitement, some blessing Arceus. The bells of the Cathedral nearby were ringing like crazy.

    Once the imperial march passed from the part of the main road where the market was to the rich houses of the main district, Pokemon gathered on the roofs threw rose petals in their path, showering the young Beartic.

    Thrasher walked along with the Beartic. His eyes continuously flashed to the left and right as he took in the small details that most untrained mon would miss. He looked at the hands of various mon that were lined up. He looked around for any small movements. He even eyed the ground at times to ensure that no thorns or sharp objects potentially laced with poison were thrown before 'Cyrus' feet. So far, it was all clear. Yet... he still couldn't shake that feeling. Something wrong was going to happen. Either that, or he was getting too old and paranoid now.

    As the parade continued to move one Blaziken was perched upon a nearby roof. He was doing the best he could to sketch out the scene below as a Poliwhirl next to him held his hands up to keep the crowds off. "Hey hey! Alphus needs his room! Buddy you better put the canvas down cause he ain't going to sign it! Sheesh, a artist leaves for a few weeks and everyone goes crazy!"

    The Otori parade continued through the main road, headed for the crowning glory of Union City: the White Citadel. Reaching the square in front of it, the Emperor's troops circled it, forming a crescent moon around him; so did the Doublades. The Beartic waved at the people as he, Lord Kymotonian and the imperial palanquin walked towards the high white walls of the Citadel; soon, they disappeared beyond the gates, and the Gold Tribe followed them.

    Thrsher was silent as the gates closed and then he couldn't help but chuckle, "Well... despite my predictions of bad things, everything went right as rain. Maybe I am just becoming paranoid now."

    "Being cautious in this situation was healthy enough," Garland said to the Primeape. He glanced behind him, at Ambrose, who was escorting Cyrus's double. "Get him to the Vaults of Reflection." To Thrasher, he said, "come. We are going to scour the Citadel now..."
     
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    Ambrose & Petrina


    The parade continued writhing in the main street; Ambrose was right behind the Emperor's palanquin, which, unbeknownst to everyone but the Tribe, was empty. Cyrus's double walked in front of the palanquin with the rest of the important leaders; however, all attention was focused on the young Beartic, who returned not as a Prince, but as an Emperor in the city. A group of Pokemon, most likely warriors of the Militia as Ambrose judged them, were singing a song from the rooftops and balconies. A song in which Cyrus was described as the champion of Arceus, who would fight and defeat Thrace. And Ambrose couldn't help but think, if Arceus wanted to defend these people, why did he not appear himself and put an end to Thrace's crusade?

    The Shiftry maintained the proud, official step that his late father had taught him, one hand on his hip and the other swinging back and forth. It had become known that his skills in leadership and battle shone brightly in the Battle of Amoon, where the Otori troops and the Gold Tribe successfully stalled the attacking Shukahen; people had taken to calling him Demon of the Forest from when he was young, and now with this accomplishment that nickname was coming back.

    But he wasn't the only one who received recognition for his actions. The Glaceon Vanguard and her Team Tundra had earned a good reputation for protecting the village; not only that, but she was known for the dispatching of the treacherous Wise Master and the boarding of the Hesperian flagship. Ambrose found himself walking besides her, coincidentally; she had been placed in the rear guard of the imperial palanquin, same as him. The streets were still loud with the songs, chants and prayers of the people on either side of the street, and the warriors of the Otori behind Ambrose and Petrina. The Shiftry had no taste or patience for this parade, although he understood it was a necessary thing; still, he was bored and craved to talk about the war, so he talked to Petrina.

    With the cigarette in his mouth, he said, "you did good, lass, I'll give you that. And you got a purty crystal for your efforts - how's that?"

    Petrina didn't like the parade. Or rather, she hadn't liked being placed within it. She would sooner be spending her time on cracking this Dark Star's secrets or getting some preparation done or just even resting off her wounds... and frankly even the praise made her feel uncomfortable. She had done only what she viewed as her duty and even if she had done it well, it was no more than that. The Shiftry next to her even seemed to want to be putting the praise upon her... "I did what needed to be done. That includes the crystal."

    "'Course you did, we all did what we had to do," Ambrose said.

    "It wasn't just my own effort or blood, aside." Petrina added. "I formed a team for the battle, are you aware what has become of them?"

    "I am," the very short Shiftry replied gravely, "half of 'em didn't quite make it out, Arceus rest their souls."

    Petrina gave a solemn nod. "I suspected as much. They died to save many more. And what of those still with us?"

    "The team was disbanded, to hear tell of," Ambrose replied, "might be you'll get them to regroup. Not like we've much time before the crusade smashes against the city walls."

    "Perhaps I may... But many I did not even know with a name. Our purpose was fulfilled, regardless and there is no need for us to remain a unit." Petrina mused.

    "There will be," Tempest said in an ominous voice, "there will be."
     
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