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Old 05-24-2018, 01:20 PM   #473
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Join Date: Jun 2017
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The guards look at you for a moment, before nodding simultaneously. Their expressions change from mocking to serious, and the one closer to you steps aside.

“Yeah, Marquis for now. Once we breach the Bastion we better get used to calling him Grand Duke.”

They open the gate, and you finally enter the Crimson Sanctum. You can feel their gazes locked on you as you pass them by, but fortunately neither tries anything funny. You find yourself in a massive hall, with a large stone pillars from ground to ceiling shaped like coiling Milotic. There are large open gates on each side wall, and a closed one in the wall directly in front of you. You reason you are now inside the wide circular fortress-like wall that surrounds the Cathedral, and that the doorways on both sides lead to corridors that run the full perimeter of the wall while the closed gate blocks the path to the former place of worship.

Obviously, you don’t know your way around. That is one of the many issues with this mission – you are impersonating a grunt who should, by all accounts, know the Crimson Sanctum like the back of her hand, but you have no clue where anything is and asking around would only make you look suspicious…

Suddenly, something bumps into your leg, but by the time you react, you only manage to catch a glimpse of a small Rattata fleeing quickly. However, as it brushed up against your leg, it seems to have dropped off something at your feet – kneeling down, you grab the small piece of paper and are astonished to find it contains a message directed specifically at you!

“Quartermaster is to the right, four doors down the corridor.”

You stare at the paper with conflicting feelings. On the one hand, it’s fortunate that you don’t have to ask for directions and risk blowing your cover; but on the other hand, the mere existence of this note might well imply your cover is already blown – why would someone be sending you tips unless they knew your true purpose for being here?

Whatever the reason, you now know where to go. Taking the corridor to the right, you keep going until you reach the intended door. Peering inside, you see a small room with a grumpy-looking man in his forties standing behind a tiny wooden counter, with a scar running across his face and over his right eye. Judging by the lack of space, you reckon this might’ve once been a monk’s bedroom, adapted to serve as the quartermaster’s shop.

“Whatcha lookin’ at grunt?” he barks from within, annoyed by your staring. “Ya know the drill, if ya want payment for a completed mission show me the proof!”


Despite the obviously malnourished state of the three kids in front of you, eating a Pokemon is where you draw the line. Even in the face of an open threat, you hold your ground, determined not to let the teens have their way with the Pidgey. It’s a morally complicated decision, prioritizing the Pokemon’s immediate survival over the kids’ short-term one, but you try to make ends meet by offering some sort of monetary compensation. Hearing this, the boy who threatened you spits at your feet.

“A lot of good your money’s gonna do around here! We’ll make ourselves a nice Pokedollar bill salad!”

The other kid, the one who was welling up, bursts into actual tears as he realizes they won’t get to eat today either. You guess he must be between twelve and thirteen, and to make matters worse, there is nothing more emasculating for a boy that age to cry in public.

The only way the scene can get any worse is if they suddenly decide to stone you instead of the Mandibuzz, but when the third boy speaks up – the one who had remained silent until now, the youngest of the bunch – things take a bit of a turn.

“So… you’re not going to eat it?” His high-pitched voice is, contrary to the other two, somewhat hopeful. He walks up to you, and you estimate he must be no older than ten or eleven. “If you promise to take care of it, then… Then we won’t be mad. Right guys?”

The two older kids stare at him in disbelief. Clearly, their opinion couldn’t be any more different, but neither seems to have the courage to tell him. After all, they’re friends, and it seems they feel the obligation of looking after the younger boy.

“Here Mr. Trainer,” the kid continues, holding out a small red sphere. “Nobody in Shanty Heights keeps Pokemon anymore because we can’t feed them, so we don’t need these. But maybe you can help out little Pidgey if you hurry to the Center!”

As he places the 1x Poké Ball in your hand, the other two kids drop their rocks and shake their heads.

“Jude, come on… we gotta go find food somewhere,” says the older one as he glares coldly at you.

“Yeah, it’ll get dark soon and the blanket might come out,” says the sobbing one, making no sense whatsoever.

Before they leave, little Jude stares at you one last time to make sure you do the “right thing”, before waving you goodbye and joining his friends.

Left alone again, you and your Pokemon look at the fainted Pidgey, whose breathing is becoming increasingly quicker and shallower. What will you do?...


The journey back to Bedlam Ridge brings unwanted memories, but at the same time, the very fact that you can face them is a testament to your growth. This time around, however, you tread new ground within the old land, opting to explore the Quarry.

… or you would, if only you could actually enter it.

“Area’s off limits to civilians,” you suddenly hear someone say in the most emotionless monotone you’ve ever heard.

The entrance to the mining area has been closed off, with several Marshals and their Lairon forming a line to prevent passersby from entering the precinct. Looking at you with the expression of someone suffering from terminal boredom is the highest-ranking officer of the operation, at least judging by the extra medals in his uniform.

“Due to an unforeseen increase in radioactive readings coming from the mine,” he continues in a speech that has clearly been repeated to exhaustion, “civilians are prohibited from approaching the mine. Those who attempt to do so will be arrested according to Bedlam Ridge law. Please move along, there is nothing to see here.”

You can see the open-cast mine up ahead completely devoid of people, when one would usually expect to see at least a few members of each rival faction exploring the area for resources. You doubt either Shells or Ribs care for “Bedlam Ridge Law”, if there even is such a thing, but the fact that none of them are around probably means this really is a dangerous situation…

So? Are you a law-abiding citizen, or not quite?
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