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

[Ray Maverick]

Earthquake
​

Over there, at the base of a grey boulder, lay somebody, bloodied and broken. The dust and dark made for poor vision, but a glimmer of light from the body was enough for him to recognize the man. The cold, grey stone had cracked violently beneath his heavy feet when his attack was set off and continued to crumble and quake as he walked to the corpse. It was a Lopunny with a golden-colored scarf, old enough to go to war... but not old enough to die in it.

"Whiteknight was his title. He's Gold Tribe, this one," the Haxorus shouted, his voice echoing in the grey, dead wasteland around him. "Like this one," he declared, speaking to no one in particular. There were a lot of corpses with the golden glimmer around him. Like me. The battle of the Deathbringer's Mark had claimed the lives of many of the Gold ones; Garland would be crying blood back in Alamagna. Had he not retreated, perhaps they would have met in the field... things couldn't get any uglier then.

It was hard to choose where to get a better look at. There was someone, bruised, battered, a Cacturne he took for a corpse was still alive. His golden armband was torn as he had fallen on rocks with cruel edges. The Haxorus crouched a bit to get a better look at his work. "... Earthquake!" the Cacturne spat out, his eyes widened in surprise when he recognized his brother, who caught him by the neck roughly and brought their faces together.

"Romulus. My name is Romulus," the Haxorus rasped, watching the Cacturne die in his grip. The grass-type's eyes had turned to the back of his head, before he whispered one word, mercy. Romulus glanced behind him, to see Lord Chantalai's shadow in the dust approaching slowly, the sound of his cane echoing like every other sound in the open waste.

Then he granted the Cacturne's request, grunting with what sounded like the pleasure of slaughter, before he rose to his feet. The sound of the cane stopped, and he turned around to look at the only man who scared him. In the dust, he was just an old man, a Zoroark with a cane. But he had seen him from up close. His eyes were mismatched: one red, one green, and their penetrating, calculating gaze was enough to daunt the fiercest warrior. His head's fur was greying; some called him silverfox when drunk, and they were made to regret it when sober.

"Lord Chantalai," Romulus said deeply. As a member of the Gold Tribe, he was tasked with protecting figures of authority within the Realm; the figure of authority he chose to protect was Lord Chantalai, who only accepted descendants of the Vanir as his protectors. Though he was half-Vanir, Romulus's reputation for his brutal effectiveness in slaughter awarded him the attention of the Lord of the Vanir. The hardest part of protecting a lord is, choosing where your true loyalty lies when that lord declares open war against the Gold Tribe. Romulus had chosen.

Chantalai looked across the cracked, dusty battlefield with his mouth tightly shut. "This seems like your kind of place. Is this why you chose Earthquake as your title?"

"I've no title." Only members of the Gold Tribe had titles.

"You do not," Chantalai agreed. "Our blood runs in your veins. Your loyalty belongs to us." The Zoroark looked down, kicked the fallen Cacturne to see the wounds on the other side. "You swore oaths to the Gold Tribe... you betrayed these oaths the moment you followed me to war. I demand proof that your oaths to me will not be broken as easily."

The murder of common members of the Gold Tribe would not do to prove his loyalty, though it was pretty final: even if he wasn't loyal to Chantalai now, where else would he be loyal to? The Realm, the Emperor? Those would execute him first chance they got for his crimes against the Tribe.

Romulus could vaguely feel the breeze blow against his iron-hard scales. The feeling of adrenaline rushing through him was overwhelming. Only aftermath of the battle, that's all, he told himself. "Yes, my lord." Only fools negotiated with Chantalai; the Gold Tribe had learned this the hard way, when they sent a negotiating party to quell the rebellion right when it started. It was a massacre.

"Bring me the head... of Garland Fordring. Then, I shall trust you as one of our own."

"Father!" a voice came from behind. The Delphox's steps were quiet, like her father's. Romulus smirked, grunting quietly in disdain and forcing himself to turn to face Lady Alucianna, an adult who seemed friendly enough to Romulus. She was fond of his ability to kill and the unquestioned obedience he had displayed ever since the war started. "You still haven't made up your mind about Romulus yet," she said, accusingly.

"What brings you here?" Lord Chantalai said abruptly, starting to walk past his daughter, as if he knew what she was going to say.

She briefly glanced up at the Haxorus, who looked down on her, his face a mask of steel. "It's Vendra. She demands we perform another ritual."

Chantalai walked a bit without answering, his cane thumping on the stone with every step of his. "Let her have her way."

"But wait! Father! The Ritual of War has already been performed." She opened her mouth to keep protesting, but Romulus's hand on her slender shoulder made her stop and look back at his stern expression. No use, girl, Romulus silently formed the words with his mouth. Her fiery eyes lost their determination. Chantalai kept on walking.

"The ritual is what keeps our tribes together..." the Zoroark spoke. "Vendra has made a new proposition to us. It would be rude not to hear her out officially."

Vendra

The sound of running water was a soothing one that she could easily dance to, despite all the silence, but she wasn't in the mood. The cave was an easy place to be, with rich, green grass growing around the underground stream, basking in the light a few rays of the sun brought. Vendra didn't expect to find such beauty inside a cave in the middle of the Grey Waste; all she had been seeing ever since she got in the Stygian wasteland was miserable, dull rocks. No place for a Meloetta like her. This cave was more than she could ask for, but still, that did nothing to cheer her up.

She had crossed her arms, levitating in a spot where the sun was rich. Her tiny heart was thumping in her chest. The Ritual of War claimed a large portion of her powers the last time, before the battle of the Deathbringer's Mark, and she still hadn't recovered yet. To top it off, she was surrounded by Stygians... Agh! She despised them all. This was the worst week of her life.

"Teneth," she cried out, "I know you're there. Don't think you're being stealthy! I sense you." I smell you, too, she thought, shuffling her nose. He smelled of flowers.

The man behind her spoke with a calm, soft and serene manner that discomforted her. "Girl, there is no need to be defensive. I am your friend."

She turned to the Umbreon. His rings were glowing green, for a reason that was past her. Perhaps they reflected his moods; there was always one mood she saw in Teneth's smooth face, and she couldn't quite tell what it was. What a complex man. His snout was smiling at her gently, but his fangs seemed vicious. One would think the middle-aged Umbreon was a good warrior, all the signs were there, but Vendra had seen him in the battlefield, holding back from the fighting. He was guarding his life more fiercely than his pride.

"I hate to stress this - truly I do," Teneth said softly, "but in the hearing of others, you will address me as Lord Teneth."

"Yes, yes," she spoke quickly, waving her little hand. "What do you want?"

The Lord of the Shukahen blinked. "Why, you summoned us here, or did you forget?"

The ritual, of course, Vendra almost said. But another man came busting in the cave. "Alright, let's do this!" the Aggron was thumping his massive arms on his chest; the echo of the steel sounds, his heavy steps and his shouting was ear smashing. Vendra had to cover her ears and grit her teeth so hard, she tasted blood. "Hello, little girl," the Aggron shouted gruffly to the Meloetta, oblivious. He reached out to pet her head with his heavy hand, but she got away just in time. "I was told there'd be another ritual! Har-har," he started laughing.

Lord Teneth had shut his eyes, his smile remaining on his carefully reserved face, until the laughing ceased. "Lord Brynjolf," he said softly, "mind our guest. She is not as big and strong as you."

"Har-har! That's the case, isn't it?! Well, the Caretaker should've sent someone bigger, and stronger!"

Vendra composed herself, pouting her mouth as she stared at the big man. "The Caretaker sends whomever he wishes," she said hotly. "And he chose me."

"Tell the Caretaker to come here himself," Brynjolf growled, all serious now. When he was cheerful, he wasn't scary, but when angry, he was a beast. All the Tocan were.

"That is not possible," Teneth interrupted, losing his smile. "Brynjolf, we've been through this. Sit down, please, and let us wait for Lord Chantalai."

Lord Chantalai arrived shortly after to join the circle of the lords, without speaking much apart from greeting the other lords briefly. Vendra let out a small sigh of relief that the Lord of the Vanir had chosen not to trust Romulus; the big Haxorus would follow the Lord everywhere he went as of late. And Vendra had found Romulus was the most distrustful of her, so she was pleased to see him absent.

Silence took over the circle. Only the sound of the stream echoed in the cave now. The lords had settled quietly around her, awaiting. Vendra was floating gently mid-air right above a single rock that was even smaller than her; the sunlight was weakening, it was beginning to get dark. The sooner she started with this, the better. "The Ritual of War must be performed again," she said, her voice cracking a bit. "Give me your charms, and we shall start."

Each of the three lords placed something in front of them. Chantalai placed a ringlet of his silver hair, tied with a red cord. Teneth placed a golden ball with an eye engraved on it. Brynjolf put a pendulum with strange markings on it. All three of the items flew at once towards Vendra, who descended on the ground and placed them upon the small rock beneath her. I can't believe he asked me to do this again, she thought with her eyes shut tightly as she pressed the lord's charms on the rock with all her strength. Nothing seemed to be happening for a few long moments. Then, the cave flashed green with an explosive psychic power, with Vendra being in the center of it. Their faces lit up with the green fire; they were still watching, unflinching, as the magic settled down. Vendra was clutching her chest, her eyes widened and her pulse quickened. She was breathing quickly and frantically, staring at the three charms below her. They were unharmed.

"The first two times, you declared war on the noxious General the Realm has set upon you. You went to battle, challenging his rule as unethical according to the standards of Stygia," she said as calmly as she could.

They had performed the Ritual of War two times in the past: nine years ago, before the first Stygian rebellion, and a week ago, before the battle of the Deathbringer's Mark. Their motives were the same. The Stygian General, Althalos Montfort, also Lord of the Eshir, had a special way of handling matters of the Empire; a way which had displeased the rest of the tribe's lords. He was too... peaceful. Peacefulness was not so much for the liking of the hot-blooded Stygians. And Althalos had ruled as the life-long General of Stygia for almost half a century - far, far too long. He just would not die, being a huge rock. The three lords of Stygia figured rocks could be broken and replaced, so they could have their chance at ruling. All three of them, that's what they were seeking after the first two Rituals of War, which signaled the start of a war. But this time, the third ritual, would be different...

"This time is truly the beginning. The Caretaker is offering you a great honor... to make the first step towards his path to greatness and power, and yours as well. You know very well what his request is. Obliterate, not only his enemies in battle, but his enemies in legend. The faith in the false God Arceus must be vanquished! The ground must be prepared for the coming of the one, true God!" the Meloetta cried out. Her green eyes flared with inspiration, seeking theirs. She could see bloodlust and thirst for power on theirs. "This is beyond a feud for the ruling of Stygia, you know," Vendra continued, a bit calmer. "This Ritual signals the coming of a new era, in which we rule all of Exathor! They will oppose us, of course. The Gold Tribe does not just give up. But, with the Caretaker on our side, not even they can stop us."

Brynjolf let out a cry for victory as he rose to his feet. "Har! We'll squish them like bugs!" Chantalai nodded quietly, leaning on his cane to get up from the ground. He was already walking out of the cave.

Teneth was grinning, revealing all of his sharp fangs. "They are trapped like rodents in Alamagna," the Umbreon said softly, "I daresay Stygia is already ours."

Vendra smiled forcibly at them as she clutched the three charms. She had to keep the three items after a Ritual; if any of the lords betrayed her, she would destroy their charm, and each of the tribe considered that seven years of bad luck for the tribe who betrayed them. That was the point of the Ritual, to ensure the loyalty of Stygians in a war with a single cause that they shared. But Vendra would make sure the punishment was much worse, should any of them crossed her. But it seemed unlikely. And that made her happy.

Teneth left the cave as well. Only Lord Brynjolf was left with her. The Aggron was staring at her, perplexed. "Little girl," he said gruffly, "good going. But I have a question."

Vendra nodded happily. She didn't like Brynjolf, but she was too wildly happy to refuse him now.

"Why's it that he's a Caretaker? What's he taking care of, anyways?"

"The dark," Vendra said simply. "I believe, if you reach back far enough in history, you might find him as 'the Paragon of Darkness'."
​

​

The Exalted One

"Do you swear to honor the customs and traditions of the Gold Tribe? Do you swear to respect your fellow Pokemon? Do you swear on your honor, on your life, on your heart to protect those who can't be protected, those who asked to be protected? Do you swear to defend the freedom and liberty of the Pokemon of this Realm and its leader, the First Man of Union and Alliance, Emperor Dareon Aurelius?"

"I swear to honor the customs and traditions of the Gold Tribe. I swear to respect my fellow Pokemon. I swear on my honor, on my life, on my heart to protect those who can't be protected and those who asked to be protected. I swear to defend the freedom and liberty of the Pokemon of this Realm and its leader, the First Man of Union and Alliance, Emperor Dareon Aurelius."

Garland the Exalted, a Floatzel with a golden star on his belly, gave one hand to the Electabuzz, who was kneeling. "Rise then, as a member of the Gold Tribe, and choose your title." The Electabuzz grabbed his hand and rose to his feet.

"Skysaber," Zack said immediately. Garland shook his hand and patted his furry shoulder briefly in a friendly gesture.

"Welcome to our fold, brother. I'm not promising you will find happiness in here," Garland said grimly, handing him his new insignia: a round, golden coin. Zack took it, slipped it into a small pouch hanging from his belt and looked his leader in the eye.

"That's to be expected," Zack said quickly, "we're hours away from being sieged, aren't we? The odds of being happy in a situation like this are slim." He laughed nervously. "Might as well go down with a blast, right?"

Garland turned from Zack, heading for the table. The room they were in was the entire top floor of the Obsidian Citadel in Alamagna; the balcony's door was wide open and the fierce wind blew everything apart. Garland's papers were all scattered, except from the map on the table, which had been stuck with glue. They were so far up the sky that they had to look down from the balcony to see the city; if they looked straight out the balcony, they'd only see the extend of the Grey Waste and the usual grey clouds along with that. The sky was pretty dark most of the time, but not now; the candles were not needed, as the clouds of the Stygian sky weren't as thick as other times. It was a time of light before the dark; many thought this weather was a blessing, but Garland thought Arceus mocked them with it.

The Floatzel leaned above the map of Stygia on the table. "Are you eager to serve the Realm, Skysaber?" he asked.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" he chuckled. Garland looked at him sideways; his icy, blue eyes were measuring the Electabuzz, who cleared his throat. "Yes, sir."

​

"It's imperative that the rest of us hear what I am going to say. Tell them to stop whatever it is they're doing and bring them here at once."

The Electabuzz nodded quickly and dashed off for the elevator.

Garland was sitting on the cold floor, his eyes still fixed on the map, when he heard Zack's voice again. It was coming off the megaphones inside the Obsidian Citadel; the sound reverberated throughout the whole city, thanks to the series of bullhorns installed on the streets.

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



OOC: to start this off, your characters may be anywhere within the city of Alamagna; most probably, they're in the Obsidian Citadel, the center of operations of the Gold Tribe in Stygia. The rest of the city's in lock-down, so not many services are available right now. If you're not sure how to start your post or require any information on the city, tell me so in the OOC or in a PM and I'll assist you with whatever you need!

 

[Greiger]

Thrasher and Punisher​

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[GastlyGibus]

The step-siblings: Tavhir and Cassandra​

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[Necrum]

Sir Lucius Noble, The Blue Baron

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

"Death."

 

[Turnip]

Pendro "Reaching Mind" Malis
Alamagna – Obsidian Citadel​

"Oh, dear. Oohhh, dearohdearohdearohdear…"

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

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

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

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

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

Truly, a master of social interaction.

 

[Ray Maverick]

The Exalted One

​

The balcony at the very end of the table allowed the wind to blow past the Floatzel's fur like a gentle, cold hand. As he was sitting on his chair at the other end of the table, he raised his grey-blue eyes to look past the map, to the open sky beyond the balcony. The clouds had parted, letting a few rays of the sun find their way to Alamagna. Among the grey of the sky, it looked as if God himself had sent his hand to pierce right through the thickness of the clouds. Something between a grimace and a smile formed on Garland's snout. Sun in Stygia, that's a first. Others would take this as an omen for hope, but they would surely forget that the sun shone for their enemies as well. His grim, weary eyes returned on the map.

"Why Alamagna?" he whispered, placing his paw on the map, right where the black-colored building of the Obsidian Citadel was, in the center of the city. "What could they gain here...?" The map was long enough to include big part of the Grey Waste; at the other end of the table, all across this grey area, there were the mountains of the south. His paw traveled to the west part of the map, to rest onto Ascanfell. "It's Ascanfell they need," he spoke out loud, "they know our remaining forces have retreated to the city. Ascanfell is virtually defenseless. The moment they started marching there, it would be lost. Yet they have camped outside our walls."

He looked up from the map, to the sky again, blinking a few times to snap out of his exhaustion. I can't make sense of this. I thought of Chantalai as a wiser commander than this. He would have seen this fault in his strategy... unless I am missing something. He desperately searched the map for clues for the thousandth time, as if they would appear magically if he did it again. It didn't work. Leaning backwards on his uncomfortable chair, he pushed back a strand of fur from his eyes. Sitting down at a time like this wasn't appropriate for a leader, but he had been deprived of sleep for the past three days, and the more he kept himself awake, the more he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. Why Alamagna?

His ears perked up at the sound of the elevator. Someone had arrived.

The top floor was now empty but for the longtable and the uncomfortable chair. It wouldn't do to have papers, books, inkpots, candles, cages for Pidgeys and such in the way when his brothers and sisters arrived; the floor would soon be flooded with the remaining members of the Gold Tribe in Alamagna. Against the odds, the first one was to arrive wasn't a member of the Gold Tribe. It was a huge rock. People often called the Stygian General a rock, because of his species - Gigalith - and it was true, he was a rock. The longtable in front of Garland shook with his every step.

"Good morning, Althalos," the Floatzel grunted, his eyes still on the map.

"Looks like one, but it doesn't feel like a good morning," Althalos commented in his heavy voice. He came to stand next to him. "Any luck?"

"Given that we are trapped here, Ascanfell is open to an attack. Yet they're ready to smash their troops on walls where they know they'll find resistance." It would be nice to hear a Stygian's point of view in this. Garland was only half-Stygian, and he did not grow up in Stygia, so thinking like a Stygian was past him.

The Gigalith shrugged. "Alamagna is the pride of our country. Has been, for a long time now. Sometime, hundreds of years ago, it was the two cities of each Empire that counted most; there were no lords outside them, only nobles that ruled from within. If you conquered those nobles, you conquered Stygia."

That's not it, Garland decided, and I have no need for history lessons at the moment. What I need is to hear out what the others have to say about this situation.

​

 

[Garet]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[CourageHound]

Noah Endris ~ The Flash

& Pendro "Reaching Mind" Malis

& Thrasher

-Alamagna- Three 'Mon in an Elevator​

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

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

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

Already Thrasher could see the Metang that entered wasn't quite calm at the moment. It didn't really throw him off after all. They all had a bit of stress given the current situation, and with their deaths so seemingly close then it was all the more reason to increase that stress. He just gave a weak smile to his brother and looked on as a Typhlosion also came on who was far more calm. Thrasher smiled back, "Good morning as well brother." The Primeape said as he crossed his arms. The elevator began to rise as

Spoiler:

[ame=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5PvBzDlZGs]music[/ame]

began to play. "So... brothers. What do you think of our chances? Personally I say we must evacuate. If we stay here we die, and with our deaths the last of the Gold Tribe is destroyed as well. We can't protect anyone if we die, correct?" He asked the two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[Necrum]

Sir Lucius Noble, The Blue Baron

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

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

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

 

[<Challenger>]

Kallet "Dauntless" Galliger

Impending doom had no effect on one particular Ambipom. Kallet, through either stupidity or through true bravery, it was undecided. Most likely stupidity. Kallet was standing...well...hanging off of the outer walls staring at the entrenched enemies. Look at them, so confident that they' were gonna take our city. He smirked. His two tails anchored his body to the wall, so there was no need to fear falling. Sure, the battle went kinda badly...Or really badly, but we're the Gold Tribe! We can bounce back! His smirk turned into a grin as he flipped himself back onto the wall. His two 'hands' manipulated the 'fingers' and flexed. Kallet loved to strain his muscles. Always created a pleasant sensation. He let out a loud cry, "I CAN'T WAIT TO KICK SOME STYGIAN ASS!" The roar could be heard on the outskirts of the encamped army. A few cries could be heard as they responded with their own rude comments, causing Kallet to grin even more. That's what I like to hear. He would've started an entire conversation with the encamped army, but he heard an announcement resound throughout the city.

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

B♥tchin'! Dauntless turned around to find a few Gold Tribe members already heading back. If he was lucky, he would get to meet the big man himself. It had been a long time since he had met the Exalted One, but he was a pretty good guy. Better go join the bros. He grinned and slammed one of his tails, fist in a ball, into the ground, causing him to be launched through the air. The entire town was visible from the Ambipom's point of few. Kinda pretty. It's a shame that it might be in ashes in a few hours. Kallet looked down to find the ground a few feet away. Instead of the panic that most people would feel, he felt ease and casualness. He brought his other tail down in perfect ease, launching him even closer to the elevator. He was a mere one hundred feet away, but he was flying at an alarming rate. Oh crap! After a few of midair flips, he lashed his tails out to catch an elevator, barely catching himself in time. Kallet pulled himself onto the elevator to find himself near a Metang, a Primeape, and a Typhlosion. Acting nonchalantly, he began to whistle as if nothing had happened.

He approached the table with the rest of the group. He looked around at the various members, grinning. This is gonna be fun.
​

 

[Greiger]

The Punisher​

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

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

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

 

[Ray Maverick]

Skysaber
​

Garland and Althalos were standing on one end of the longtable with the map; many others had arrived to the top floor. The Floatzel with the star on his belly nodded at the Meowstic, acknowledging him. He wasn't smiling, of course. Zack, from what he had seen of him so far, knew Garland wasn't the merry type of person. His grey-blue gaze fell on Zack when the Electabuzz entered the room; the engineer tried to raise his dirtied hand in a way of greeting, but his leader's look didn't linger on him, as usual.

A certain Metang had entered, greeting everyone. Zack gave him a toothy, sharp smile; he liked the guy for an odd reason. He could relate to his awkwardness.

"Garland, do we have plan in motion?" Thrasher asked right away.

"We're working on it," General Althalos spoke instead of Garland; Garland had gotten up from his chair, silent and sullen. He looked through the members of the Gold Tribe who were remaining in Alamagna. Zack felt a jolt on his body when his gaze passed him, but again, his stare didn't linger much. Their leader seemed to be measuring their strength. He then leaned backwards on the table, half-sitting on it. It was evident he was choosing his words, and this took him a bit, with the room gone silent.

"Facts, first," Garland said, his mouth half-open as he stared up at the ceiling. He brushed the strand of hair off his eyes, took a deep breath and started. "At the Mark, they struck down most, though not all of us. The battle was split on two fronts, north and south; brothers and sisters of ours fell on both sides, but the side which suffered critical losses was ours, the north one. Word had not reached us of how the south side fared in the battle only until recently. There was a Pidgey," sitting as he was, he turned behind him and grabbed a letter from the table to wave it in front of the gathered people. "It's a miracle this one passed through."

Zack had a look around, noticing the empty Pidgey cages. None had returned to their cage. "They're intercepting the messages! Bastards!" he exclaimed. He'd seen it happen with his own eyes, while aboard the Storm's Fury. The Stygians had giant Braviarys predators which went after Pidgey messengers; the rest was ugly details.

Garland glanced at Zack briefly, before going back to opening the letter. "It appears the battle on the south front was broken off quickly. This message was written by General Vektor himself. To hear him tell it, he was gathering Hesperian troops at Yvangard Keep, then marched north in full force when the rebellion started. He says the Stygians were forced in tactical retreat in the mountains south of the Mark." He paused for a bit. Zack's heart pounded faster. The Hesperians are helping us! Then, he immediately questioned why. He had never seen General Vektor in person, but from tales he had heard, he knew he was a superb battle commander, and also not much of a kind person. Politics weren't his strong point, so he just assumed the General was obliged to help.

The Floatzel looked out the balcony. "What you see out there is not the entire opposition. They are separated into two hosts of several thousand men, one that is about to siege us, and one that has waged a guerilla war in the mountains with Vektor. There are many of our brothers and sisters aiding him, too. Knowing how Vektor does things, we'll also need to stop him from destroying the tribes entirely."

General Althalos frowned, doubtful. "I'm not too sure, Garland. The tribes are fierce, not so easily yielding..."

"Vektor outnumbers them three to one," Garland pointed out. His face stayed the same, but a small spark of hope appeared on Zack's, but it faded when Garland kept speaking. "However, even if they prevail against them, by the time they reach here, it'll be way too late. And we have no way of communicating with them, judging by the reliability of the Pidgey Mail service." They're too far for psychic waves, too, Zack thought. He could have Frank message them, but the Kadabra would just tell him it wouldn't work.

"I have given this some thought," General Althalos said, "the Vanir, Tocan and Shukahen will strike soon. But I'm confident that Alamagna's walls will last for days, weeks, even, if we counter them properly. The Otori might have joined Vektor in the south front, but the remaining forces of my tribe is ours to command. They do outnumber us frighteningly... but we're on top of the walls, dammit! We can defend ourselves in so many ways! We can throw anything at them, and they'll take it!"

That's true, Zack thought, picturing the Stygians rushing towards the mighty, tall walls of Alamagna. With the drawbridge taken away, they would have to cross the trench around the walls, which would leave them exposed to attacks; the walls from the bottom of the trench were at least a hundred feet high. And if they managed to reach past the trench, they'd find either of the three gates (possibly the eastern one) with the three layers of six-feet-thick tristanite. Getting past tristanite-made gates was virtually impossible; that metal was indestructible and immune to Pokemon attacks. They'd have to use ladders or airships to jump over the walls, but then we'd be waiting on top!

Garland's gaze went through them once again. "What say you, brothers and sisters?"​

​

 

[GastlyGibus]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[Greiger]

Thrasher and Punisher​

​

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

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

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

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

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

 

[Garet]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[<Challenger>]

Kallet "Dauntless" Galliger

Kallet looked around at the surrounding members of the Gold Tribe. Punisher, the head honcho himself, the twins. He could have listed dozens of others, but there was one in particular he didn't recognize. An Electabuzz. That guy...He looks kinda goofy. I'll be sure poke at him a time or two after this is all said and done.

The Thrasher barged in, blabbering about how they could easily smash the adversaries if they stayed and fought. A Pawniard, probably a newbie, put in a valid point about being able to defend the city, given their heightened defenses. Kallet no longer had to wait for Thrasher's speech about fighting the enemy at a close range. The Meowstic siblings gave an all-too-complicated plan for Kallet to follow, although it sounded like it was complicated enough to work. Thrasher, ever the survivalist, gave the suggestion that they retreat, even with a quote to back it up.

He had had enough of this chit chat. His idea would have to be heard. Dauntless perched himself up on his tails, now one of the taller Pokemon in the room. He looked around and nodded to all of his brothers and sisters. "As much as I hate dying and all, Thrasher and the little guy are right on this one." He looked to the two mentioned and grinned. "We're the Gold Tribe. We're pretty damn powerful. I say that as long as we stand our ground and stick to the walls, nothing can stop us." The grin suddenly disappeared off his face as he paced around the room, using his tails to walk. "Besides, think of all the civilians that'll be killed if we just up-and-leave the place. The Stygians will most likely throw everything they have at the wall. There has to be something worth capturing here." His stomach felt a bit weak as he thought of all the civilians that wouldn't be around anymore. "These 'Mon have no way of defending themselves, and if they can't do it, we sure as hell can!" He turned to Garland and grinned. "With all due respect sir, I'd say it'd be a b*tch move to pull out anyways. I say to hell with it! Let's send these boys packing!"
​

 

[Necrum]

Sir Lucius Noble, The Blue Baron

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

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

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

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

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

 

[Turnip]

Pendro "Reaching Mind" Malis
Alamagna – Obsidian Citadel​

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

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

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

 

[CourageHound]

Noah Endris ~ The Flash

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

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

 

[Jason Wolf]

AECRON "cowboy" EVERHOLD


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

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

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

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

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