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Old 05-19-2009, 12:49 PM   #426
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The Space Path - Please reply in gold

empoleon dynamite: Feeling sorry for Spinda you're quick to do something for the innocent little Panda who had mistakenly stopped to greet you as it had thought it had met a new friend to play with only to end up being half roasted. Spinda whimpers as the reviving liquid is administered, its eyes opening and staring groggily up at you as it regains conciousness, but a second later Storm is on his knees beside you, another similar bottle in his hand. He sprays the little panda with his potion and you watch as relief fills Spina's eyes.

"Need to ease its pain," Storm grunts, his eyes scanning over the blistered bears tender skin. "Rule number one when travelling with me - Never leave a trail of destruction. You hurt something, you heal it, and then you move on." Surprised to hear anything more than two words escape the man's lips, let alone something like this, you watch while he removes some lotion from his pack that helps to soothe Spinda's burns before he gently bandages it up. Spinda gets to its feet, smiling brightly at Storm, giving him a hug before turning and tottering off down the path. Storm then gets to his feet and starts walking in the opposite direction, so you hurry to keep up and before long find yourself at an intersection of the Space Path. To the left it just seems to wind away into nowhere, directly ahead it stretches so far that it seems to go on forever, but to the right you can see where it veers off to wind around several large planets. Storm stops and looks at you expectantly. "Sectors one through three," he says with a tone of distaste as he gazes to the left. "Sectors four through six," he continues, nodding ahead, "Sectors, seven through thirteen," he finishes, turning to the right. This is your adventure after all, with Storm being only your guide, so it seems you have a decision to make...
Wes bit his lip as the odd medicine dripped onto the weary panda, a cute whimper quickly ensuing and adding to his angst. Whatever had gotten over him? The idea of attacking an innocent Pokmon was barbaric, all in a vain attempt to grab Storm’s attention. He could never forgive himself for his immature behaviour, and would hereby vow not to attack a Pokmon unless provoked. It was a brutal lesson to learn, and the kid felt his eyes well up as he dabbed the revival fluid up the Spinda’s tattered fur. Opening its reddened eyes and starring up at its nasty attacker, Wes was troubled to see the bear flinch at the sight of his face. Had he caused such a mess? Wes looked back to see how his brazen comrade of a guide was fending, the berry-lover no less scooching beside him with a similar bottle. Storm fingered the trigger of the potion, a puff of vapour wafting into the tight, space air. Wes identified the spray bottle as another healing device as its pharmaceutical breath washed over the bear’s charred skin. Its blisters twinged, but no less soothed as the rather tough-looking man gently swathed the chemicals into the bear’s grazed fluff.

"Rule number one when travelling with me - Never leave a trail of destruction. You hurt something, you heal it, and then you move on." Wes nodded rather blank-faced, originally thinking a Revive would suffice. He still had much to learn, and although Storm was rough around the edges he wasn’t that bad a teacher. The adolescent would pick himself up from the hiccup, knowing he’d become a better trainer because of it. Wes watched intently as the man unloaded the various medical devices from his backpack, massaging a soothing lotion on the panda’s stubby arms, carefully wrapping them in bandages once fully lubricated. Wes jutted forward, lowering an arm to help before timidly leering rearward, shying over to the breathtaking view. The blackened sky was completely draped in stars, cutely blinking as he squinted his gaze, the occasional shooting star making its unmatchable dazzle apparent. He swiftly revolved upon hearing the healthy chirps of the healed Spinda, the blotchy panda giving a warm embrace to Storm’s leg. Seeing the warm hug of affection only made the lump in his throat swell; he wanted to be seen as a hero, not some sort of twisted attacker. Washing away the juvenile emotions, he bobbed his head to Storm’s height once more, noting they’d reached a crossroad in the translucent path. The spurs of golden trail flowed in three directions, with each sector of space they piloted differing in number. Beside the arithmetical indicator, Wes was completely stumped. He wavered on the cluster of planets, mouth agape as he glanced across at the giant marbles flaunting exotic colours.

“I’m easy, but Sectors four through six seem the best for my level of experience”, Wes remarked to Storm’s shoes. He had no idea why, but a thick cloud of tension was still clouded between the two. They couldn’t hold a conversation for two seconds, “Just somewhere breathtaking and adventurous for me. Maybe an exotic or water-filled planet, but it’s your call dude”
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Old 05-20-2009, 06:33 PM   #427
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HERE I AM! Sorry about that, guys, slight lapse in update time which I'll work hard to avoid in the future. Although, I should probably warn that the approaching exams may restrict daily updates for the next three or four weeks. Just to forewarn you. Thank you for the brilliant responses - these may be the longest updates I've written in ages. Treepanda, congratulations on receiving my longest ever. I hope you all enjoy them.

The Rainbow Waterfalls

Pearl's Perap: “Very good,” Sebastian states simply with a slight nod of his head, “you are wise, and most of all, efficient young man, Zak. Unlike the majority of those wielding the skill you apparently possess, you’re not a slave to false notions of right and misconceptions of wrong.” As you request a moment to tend to Alice, Sebastian turns to Reynard, “The girl has nothing. No items, no Pokemon. Are you certain that she possessed any? Do you realise what this implies, Reynard? I need to know for certain,”

“I’ve been tracking the girl for too long, Sebastian. Of what I’ve told you I am certain. Ask Zak, he’ll vouch for me I’m sure,” Reynard replies, moving past you to seat himself on the arm of the settee, the blazing fire cracking healthily behind him.

“Then somehow she’s discarded them. This can only signify…” Sebastian’s strained voice is intercepted by a noise from outside the tent. As he turns, you can distinguish through the charred gap in the tent a small group of well-armed men, who survey the surrounding tents while Blastoise adopts a defensive stance, disallowing them to progress any further. “Ah,” Sebastian states as one catches his eye, “they are here.” With a slight grin, he dons his aviators once more and turns to you, “Everything seems to be happening all at once,”

“Let Zak talk to Keeley. He knows her, and what’s more she’s not aware of his allegiance to us…perhaps he’ll be able to ascertain where her possessions have strayed, acquire them, bring them to us, and should an accomplice be involved, he’ll be more than capable of tackling him, I’m certain,” Reynard interjects, walking to stand beside you.

“Ah, yes, you are right, Reynard. However, this is a matter of immediate importance and things may get a little…chaotic. We’ll need him, we are outnumbered as it is.”

“You know we are capable, Sebastian, capable of handling whatever these mercenaries can throw at us. You underestimate our ability, I fear. If Keeley plans escape - and I‘d not put it past a mind as cunning as hers - it will be imminent. Zak can intercept it.”

“And you overestimate the facilities. The damage we could sustain would be…” Sebastian’s voice trails off as he turns to you, chewing his inner cheek in contemplation. Evidently, your allegiance could not have come at a more opportune moment, as both accomplices require your skill for two different tasks. “Zak,” Sebastian croaks, his damaged voice conveying the illusion of exasperation, “it is your choice. What will you decide to do? Keeley, or these men?”


Stark: “Then it appears you are in need of some educating,” Tane states with an exasperated sigh. Your path has begun to follow the wide rapids, and as he talks, you distinguish all that sits on the other side of the river - frequent copses, a hilly horizon and the residual rivers that encircle the falls to make them the spectacle that they are, are the most noticeable of sights. But what catches your interest is the man-made structure that sits in the distance, obscured amid a coppice of trees with skinny boughs. From what you can distinguish at such a distance the architecture is ancient, and resembles a gothic structure that reminds you of a temple or monastery.

“While your loyalty is not set, you are deserving of an explanation. It is not tourism that deters me, or my associates. The falls are a spectacle, and a spectacle unappreciated by the eyes of the living is not a spectacle at all. Were it so simple, however, my tendencies would follow quite the different route. Unfortunately, the living possess their own traits, undesirable traits that taint the very falls, and when the human faculty for greed taints such beauty, we cannot abide it. No, there is something else within those falls…something worth far more than a tourist industry. This group of tyrants stop at nothing - coercion, theft, and now, murder. I’m not sure how clued up you are on the Falls, but you may have heard news of a murder having taken place here. That murder was the murder of one of my associates…” Tane breaks away, gazing into the distance with a contemplative glare that seemingly betrays the sorrow you’re sure he is enduring inside. A few seconds later, Tane continues, “This scourge have been beleaguering the falls for a while. We decided to take a stand, and resisted their imposition of greedy laws - curfews on visitors, culling of certain species, and the incessant probing of the plunge pool. Their interference was marring the beauty of the falls, it was like an omnipresent force that restrained the freedom that this wonderful location emanates. We decided to strike when their unofficial prohibition of visitors was underway, and all that the falls were occupied by were their greedy faces, scrutinising every nook and cranny of the falls for treasures, rarities…precisely what, I’m uncertain. We had intended to kidnap, given our lack of numbers, their head, interrogate him and negotiate their departure from the Falls. Unfortunately, we were unprepared for bloodshed and our efforts were cut short before we’d even attained a smidgeon of an impact. One of us were shot dead within seconds, the rest of us driven away by their weapons. We each were dedicated to the falls, having lived in this area for the majority of our lives, and never had the slightest hint of hostility arose around the Falls, in spite of the rumoured wealth hidden within its caves and waters. They were so tranquil, so beautiful. Then these gunslingers emerged, and suddenly a war has broken out. Make no mistake, my actions back there were purely opportunistic. That man was the killer, merciless to the core and deserving of the death of which you seem so hateful. Yes it was revenge, yes it was rash and yes it was brutal and unbalanced. But not only was it a mirror of the death of my friend, but it was as justified as a Carvanha’s consumption of a Finneon in order to satiate hunger. Regrets? I have none, and I never shall. If you cannot understand my actions then do not try, but do not expect to find peace - no matter where you turn. Here you are immersed in war.”

Suddenly, Tane’s straight path breaks, and he turns towards the raging river. Now, you find, the ancient structure is relatively close by, and as Tane makes use of the large stones that bridge the two sides of grass, you assume that it is where he is headed. Suddenly, you realise that a figure darts from the copse containing the gothic structure, and speeds across the grass to where Tane is stood. Judging from the frame and flowing auburn hair, you ascertain that it is a woman, a woman who appears ecstatic at Tane’s return. You watch as she tackles him to the ground, and begins to frolic romantically, completely oblivious to your presence. A sense of awkwardness causes you to avert your gaze, and you can distinguish in the distance, the more masculine form of another human, stood just outside of the copse and watching the antics of Tane and whom is evidently his lover. Above the crashing of the river, you cannot distinguish their conversation, but something Tane says causes the woman to shoot a glance at you. You look back, noting the depth of her brown eyes and the flawlessness of her complexion, before becoming slightly unnerved by her seeming dislike for your presence. Getting to her feet, the woman, dressed in an attire that seems designed to allow maximum mobility, brushes herself off and gazes at you with reproach.

“Come!” Tane calls, rising beside the woman and outstretching a hand in motion for you to follow, “You need to make your decision now. Will you aid us?” The woman interjects swiftly, her voice strong and perfectly audible above the water,

“What does he have to offer? I can’t see William allowing a stranger to aid without his worth being proved first. Do not traverse that river until you’ve told us what you can offer us, stranger!” She calls.

What will you do?



The Rose Arch: Dark Mountain

Mewsic Box: The ominous figure that hovers above remains still as your fused form approaches, crimson eyes glinting in the moon’s luminosity. Her silhouette hangs in the darkness like an inanimate puppet. All you can distinguish is the icy blue glint of her eyes, boring into your combined souls. Your approach is slow, the distance vast, and as you near her silhouetted figure, you see her body transforming, distorting as though it were a trick of the moonlight. From her back stretches shadow, cloth-like and flowing, shaped like dishevelled wings that substantiate the demonic glare emanating from her piercing eyes. The demon is taking control. The demon is swallowing Niamh’s only legacy.

With a mighty roar in honour of your saintly saviour, your hand thrusts ahead of you. From the depths of your chest you feel the icy sensation, a vibration that shivers through your shoulder, the icy sensation numbing your perceptions, and it shoots through your arm until from the palm of your hand the ice seems to burst without breaking the skin, a purely elemental power surging from the depths of your combined power. The beam soars through the still air, covering the distance in an instant. However, as your crimson eyes mark its swift progress, it seems to miss its target, with no collision causing damage to your demonic enemy. A few seconds, as you draw ever closer to her with your arm outstretched and empowered, allow for you to recognise the black tendrils that shoot from the girl’s own palm, conflicting with the Ice Beam you currently fire. Her Night Shade seems to absorb your power, the shadowy tendrils swallowing what’s left of the beam that you produce, until your powers disallow its maintenance and the tendrils are free to strike your exposed body. Through you shoots the disheartening sensation of exhaustion, draining your every pour of the vitality that you struggle to retain.

Unable to sustain the attack for much longer, you veer from your course and begin to head for the mountain of which Niamh spoke. Close behind, you sense the pursuit of your adversary.

“Surrender your power, Tim!” She calls, the deep demonic voice provoking unfavourable reminiscence. The novel sensation of flight compels your speed, and wind lashes at your face as you propel yourself through the dead air. As anticipated, you begin to distinguish a great wall ahead, a rocky obstruction that you conclude must be the mountain of which Niamh spoke. Its gradually nearing body seems to conform to the general eeriness of the world in which you’ve been thrust, the silhouette hanging like a dominant shadow in a world where darkness is all that thrives.

“Tim! Stop flying, Tim! You cannot defeat one like me…you still don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. You must give me that music box. Give it to me, Tim!” Barely audible above the howling rush of air, the demonic voice calls persistently, her distance indistinguishable, but close enough to cause all of your combined energy to exert itself into the speed with which you shoot towards the hulking mountain. Below you the trees seems to shiver with life - excited howls echoing eerily from its depths as numerous creatures watch your efforts from below.

Then you hear a bellow. Behind you the girl’s frustration has boiled over, and you begin to feel dread permeate your heart. Suddenly, you’re propelled yet more by an excruciating force from behind as the demon girl finally gains on you, and collides injuriously with your legs. You lose all control, and find yourself soaring towards the mountain with unstoppable velocity. Before long, its intricacies begin to materialise, and ahead there is naught but the jagged body of its face, zooming helplessly towards you.

A discouraging crunch and explosion of pain suddenly strikes you, and you plummet helplessly to the ledge which juts from the mountainside. The collision leaves you dazed, incapacitated, and for a long while you struggle to suppress the pain that plagues you. The power of the demon’s pursuit was, at the very least, daunting. With the lack of wind and absence of clouds, your surroundings seems somewhat misplaced, a peculiar setting for a mountain. For a while you await the approach of your enemy, her powerful pulse of darkness throwing you against the rocky body once more. But nothing materialises, not a sound save for the distant cries of zealous beasts of darkness. Within you, the power of Perona still resides, flowing like a spectral ooze through your veins. The pain begins to subside, and you hoist yourself to your feet.

You glance up at the moon, and do not see any sign of the demon girl. For a moment, you wonder why Niamh had intended for you to reach this location, and glance around, spying naught but the black rock at all angles. But dread then fills your heart as you see her, stepping from behind a rock, her piercing eyes glaring daggers at your souls.

“Do you have any idea who I am, Tim?” She asks, as calm as though she were speaking to an ally, “I am Darkrai.” With that, the great shadowy wings once again unfold from behind her, obstructing the moonlight from view as she prepares another attack.

What will you do?



The Comet Corner

Treepandaone: Your polite introduction is met with approval, and it is with a favourable exchange of glances between the men that your respect amongst them is embedded. As you convey, while borne in mind are the considerations of the warmth which these strangers have thus far presented, your desires to encounter a species of substantial rarity, Doru’s smile widens with each word you speak.

“Well, Matthew,” Doru says, directing your attention to him with a light grasp of your arm, “as you can quite plainly see, the Comet Corner scarcely presents a species beyond that of the natural born wanderer - such as ourselves. Never have I seen in such times the presence of an untamed beast - let alone that of mystical inclination. And yet, it is for such reasons that I am moved by your sudden appearance, Matthew, as though the stars forsook it,” he gazes at you, the gem lodged into his eyebrow catching your eye as he scrutinises your face, “yes…I fear it was no coincidence that brought you here to us. But then, I have little faith in chance.” You are somewhat disheartened by the words that Doru speaks, and you cannot suppress a feeling of pointlessness to the presence of not only yourself, but that of your novel company. As Doru bends down to hoist the load that had previously overwhelmed Gavril from the ground, you spy the glint in Petre’s eye within the glance exchanged between you. Then, as Doru rises, he motions for you to follow. You do so, heading directly for the crowd ahead.

“Yet, the times in which you’ve currently emerged, Matthew, are not the most typical. We are here, we travelling people, to witness the grandest spectacle that the entire Cloud Garden has to offer. You have heard, I am sure, of the illustrious star-showers that occur in these parts whenever a still and silent night emerges. It is rumoured that at these times, the mystical beasts to which you refer are said to appear, though for only a short while, mind you.” Your previous disheartenment is slowly smothered by Doru’s escalating tone, the rapidity of words through which his excitement is conveyed sparking similar emotions within yourself. As you walk, you find yourself walking amongst the colourful crowd of travellers, their every attire swathed in embellishments and mismatched cloth, their affable gazes welcoming you without words. Amongst them walk creatures of all types, from the asymmetrical carriage-pullers such as ponyta and girafarig, to the more subtle companions such as the slowpokes and mankies which stood further to the ground. The three carriages, you notice at such proximity, are enormous, and require four of the equestrian beasts to pull each of them. The songs and music burst from the apprehensive silence once again as the crowd see you accompanying Doru, and you are immediately stirred by the joviality that cannot seemingly bare restraint.

“Yet tonight, Matthew, tonight is the night of the most beautiful, the most magnificent of all the showers. It is a ceaselessly annual occurrence, that is said to originate from the Wish Maker - Jirachi. Truly it is a spectacle to behold, and the beasts which flood the plains are vast. Yet, there is more to this star shower, we have discovered in our annual visits. Every year, we accumulate the wishes of every man and woman, divulge them to Stela, our mystic elder, and she performs to the shower a ritual through which each of our wishes are presented - and do you know what? They come true, Matthew! The powers of this mystical sight are staggering. It does not apply to every wish, however, for there are those whose wish’s do not attain fruition. Year upon year I divulge the same wish…yet my desires have yet to materialise. This year, I am hopeful.” As Doru explains their story to you, you feel your anticipation well to a palpable extent. You cannot suppress, with the combined influence of the song in which you are immersed, the joy that Doru’s words inspire. Around you, various men and women of inconceivable diversity greet you, many contributing to the music that echoes for miles across the plains.

One of the travellers, however, does not collaborate in any form. She merely moves with almost spectral grace, her flowing black and silver dress gliding gracefully across the grass. Beside her marches a Granbull of substantial age, gazing into the sunset meditatively as it sustains its pace alongside its elegant master. As Doru closes in on the woman, you ascertain that it is to her that he desired to take you, and as you register the beaded grey hair that hangs below her waist you vaguely determine her age.

“Stela,” Doru says, guiding your towards the old woman that you now deduce is the mystic to which he’d referred moments earlier. The old woman stops, as does her Granbull, and turns slowly. The sheer magnitude and frequency of the wrinkles that smother her face is enough to indicate her age, and from behind her squinted, piercing green eyes you detect unfathomable wisdom that only one adept to the mysteries of the world can retain. In her left hand a twisted root forms her walking stick, and her beaded hair hangs alongside a silken shawl that shimmers iridescently in the setting sunlight. She stands at almost half your size, crouched like a hag, but with a regal aura that you cannot help but respect. “Stela, this is Matthew,” Doru continues, seemingly dismissive of her scrutinising glare as his words are recited with evident zeal, “he is a traveller like ourselves who has shown us a selfless kindness which has inspired the entire community. I have brought him to you with the hopes of your approval granting him the opportunity to submit his wish for tonight’s shower. Truly, I believe he is special.”

As you both await her response, she closes the small gap between you with elegance. You feel her eyes scrutinising your very thoughts as she surveys every detail of your face, with no expression altering her wrinkled visage. She then turns to Doru, “No.” The word, uttered in a whisper that you can barely distinguish, discourages you slightly due to the bluntness of her judgement with but a look at your face to go by. Doru also frowns, seemingly dismayed by her response, and Stela glides back to the spot beside her Granbull. Slowly, the musical procession moves past as you stand awaiting Doru’s response.

“I cannot accept Matthew’s wish,” Stela continues, gazing into the ever-lowering sun that slowly hides behind a distant hill, “I cannot until he has achieved a true status of nomad. The admittance ceremony is compulsory, Doru, you know this.” From her speech you ascertain that her voice seems unable to rise above the whisper with which she communicates. Turning to Doru, you see him give you a smile before turning to a passing nomad and whispering something in his ear. The stranger looks at you with intrigue, before ceasing his guitar-playing and jogging over to another of the crowd, seeming to carry on the message that Doru had just relayed.

“Yes, of course,” Doru says to you, a hand upon your shoulder, “I intended to have you submit your own wish to Stela, so that she can include it into tonight’s ritual. However, you are not yet truly one of our own until you pass a certain…test. Stela will not accept the wishes of outsiders, I’m afraid,” as Doru speaks, you notice the crowd begin to halt, and congregate around where you stand, the music slowly fading to be replaced by viral whispers. Doru registers the amount of spectators before continuing, “So, Matthew, if you feel up to it, this is the task that you must achieve. We travelling people have attained a certain…fame for our ability to convey the most compelling of stories. In spite of our fondness for story-telling, we never tire of hearing them, and each night we will tell a great number of them, from five to about ten! And never is one story the same, because no matter how similar they can become, no man tells a story in the same way. It has become a custom among us, therefore, that every new addition to our group must demonstrate their ability to convey a compelling story. So, Matthew, if you would like to join us tonight in gazing upon the spectacle that is the star-shower, you must first undertake the storytelling challenge. Use your pokemon, use your skills in acting, singing dancing - whatever! As long as you can relay a story to render us spellbound, we shall gladly allow you the opportunity to have your wish come true!” With that, Doru retreats into the now encircling crowd, too innumerable to count, that each gaze at you with affable, anticipating eyes.

You stand alone in the circle that they have created, and possess naught but your items and companions to aid your story, should you decide to recite it. Whatever your choice, the travellers seem particularly eager.

What will you do?
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Old 05-21-2009, 01:32 AM   #428
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Originally Posted by Tale View Post
HERE I AM! Sorry about that, guys, slight lapse in update time which I'll work hard to avoid in the future. Although, I should probably warn that the approaching exams may restrict daily updates for the next three or four weeks. Just to forewarn you. Thank you for the brilliant responses - these may be the longest updates I've written in ages. Treepanda, congratulations on receiving my longest ever. I hope you all enjoy them.

The Rainbow Waterfalls

Pearl's Perap: “Very good,” Sebastian states simply with a slight nod of his head, “you are wise, and most of all, efficient young man, Zak. Unlike the majority of those wielding the skill you apparently possess, you’re not a slave to false notions of right and misconceptions of wrong.” As you request a moment to tend to Alice, Sebastian turns to Reynard, “The girl has nothing. No items, no Pokemon. Are you certain that she possessed any? Do you realise what this implies, Reynard? I need to know for certain,”

“I’ve been tracking the girl for too long, Sebastian. Of what I’ve told you I am certain. Ask Zak, he’ll vouch for me I’m sure,” Reynard replies, moving past you to seat himself on the arm of the settee, the blazing fire cracking healthily behind him.

“Then somehow she’s discarded them. This can only signify…” Sebastian’s strained voice is intercepted by a noise from outside the tent. As he turns, you can distinguish through the charred gap in the tent a small group of well-armed men, who survey the surrounding tents while Blastoise adopts a defensive stance, disallowing them to progress any further. “Ah,” Sebastian states as one catches his eye, “they are here.” With a slight grin, he dons his aviators once more and turns to you, “Everything seems to be happening all at once,”

“Let Zak talk to Keeley. He knows her, and what’s more she’s not aware of his allegiance to us…perhaps he’ll be able to ascertain where her possessions have strayed, acquire them, bring them to us, and should an accomplice be involved, he’ll be more than capable of tackling him, I’m certain,” Reynard interjects, walking to stand beside you.

“Ah, yes, you are right, Reynard. However, this is a matter of immediate importance and things may get a little…chaotic. We’ll need him, we are outnumbered as it is.”

“You know we are capable, Sebastian, capable of handling whatever these mercenaries can throw at us. You underestimate our ability, I fear. If Keeley plans escape - and I‘d not put it past a mind as cunning as hers - it will be imminent. Zak can intercept it.”

“And you overestimate the facilities. The damage we could sustain would be…” Sebastian’s voice trails off as he turns to you, chewing his inner cheek in contemplation. Evidently, your allegiance could not have come at a more opportune moment, as both accomplices require your skill for two different tasks. “Zak,” Sebastian croaks, his damaged voice conveying the illusion of exasperation, “it is your choice. What will you decide to do? Keeley, or these men?”
[They're worth the wait, matey-o, take your time when need be :}]

Recieving a compliment from the man whos pokmon had doused the fire he had quite foolishly caused came as a shock to Zak, nodding humbly, he thanked Sebastian before turning his head to his shoulder and grinning at Alice, who was now preening her feathers, seemingly at complete ease, despite how different she had acted previously. Turning his head back to the conversation, the topic had turned to whether Keeley had possessions in the form of items and pokmon or not. With a swift nod, the boy began, "Yes, I can vouch. I battled alongside her briefly, I definitely know she has an alternatively coloured Spheal, you know, a shiny?"

Before his answer could be acknowledged, a group of mercenaries could quite clearly be seen exploring the camp through the charred hole in the tent. Guarding with all his might, Sebastian's Blastoise growled slightly and the man donned his aviators once more, readying himself to meet the men. With his two adult accomplices talking of how they had a battle on their hands, his nerves kicked in, they were rather outnumbered and Esteban had battled recently, it really would just be up to his newly captured Chatot. "I know this notion seems rather cowardly, but how about, I slip off to guard Keeley's tent and battle from afar? The idea of being in the thick of things is quite nerveracking for me, not to mention, Keeley escaping whilst we engage in combat is quite the sticky situation..."

Returning his gaze to meet the Chatot's big eyes, the boy smiled at her sweetly, "Time for our first potential battle girl. You ready?" With his words, she quickly forged a response, plucking out the operative word, "READY! READY!" Chuckling, the boy returned his attention to the men, "Looks like we will be helping. Which would you prefer, me helping in close combat and tailing Keeley if she escapes or guarding Keeley and joining in the battle if and when I am required?"
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Old 05-21-2009, 02:17 AM   #429
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HERE I AM! Sorry about that, guys, slight lapse in update time which I'll work hard to avoid in the future. Although, I should probably warn that the approaching exams may restrict daily updates for the next three or four weeks. Just to forewarn you. Thank you for the brilliant responses - these may be the longest updates I've written in ages. Treepanda, congratulations on receiving my longest ever. I hope you all enjoy them.

The Rose Arch: Dark Mountain

Mewsic Box: The ominous figure that hovers above remains still as your fused form approaches, crimson eyes glinting in the moon’s luminosity. Her silhouette hangs in the darkness like an inanimate puppet. All you can distinguish is the icy blue glint of her eyes, boring into your combined souls. Your approach is slow, the distance vast, and as you near her silhouetted figure, you see her body transforming, distorting as though it were a trick of the moonlight. From her back stretches shadow, cloth-like and flowing, shaped like dishevelled wings that substantiate the demonic glare emanating from her piercing eyes. The demon is taking control. The demon is swallowing Niamh’s only legacy.

With a mighty roar in honour of your saintly saviour, your hand thrusts ahead of you. From the depths of your chest you feel the icy sensation, a vibration that shivers through your shoulder, the icy sensation numbing your perceptions, and it shoots through your arm until from the palm of your hand the ice seems to burst without breaking the skin, a purely elemental power surging from the depths of your combined power. The beam soars through the still air, covering the distance in an instant. However, as your crimson eyes mark its swift progress, it seems to miss its target, with no collision causing damage to your demonic enemy. A few seconds, as you draw ever closer to her with your arm outstretched and empowered, allow for you to recognise the black tendrils that shoot from the girl’s own palm, conflicting with the Ice Beam you currently fire. Her Night Shade seems to absorb your power, the shadowy tendrils swallowing what’s left of the beam that you produce, until your powers disallow its maintenance and the tendrils are free to strike your exposed body. Through you shoots the disheartening sensation of exhaustion, draining your every pour of the vitality that you struggle to retain.

Unable to sustain the attack for much longer, you veer from your course and begin to head for the mountain of which Niamh spoke. Close behind, you sense the pursuit of your adversary.

“Surrender your power, Tim!” She calls, the deep demonic voice provoking unfavourable reminiscence. The novel sensation of flight compels your speed, and wind lashes at your face as you propel yourself through the dead air. As anticipated, you begin to distinguish a great wall ahead, a rocky obstruction that you conclude must be the mountain of which Niamh spoke. Its gradually nearing body seems to conform to the general eeriness of the world in which you’ve been thrust, the silhouette hanging like a dominant shadow in a world where darkness is all that thrives.

“Tim! Stop flying, Tim! You cannot defeat one like me…you still don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. You must give me that music box. Give it to me, Tim!” Barely audible above the howling rush of air, the demonic voice calls persistently, her distance indistinguishable, but close enough to cause all of your combined energy to exert itself into the speed with which you shoot towards the hulking mountain. Below you the trees seems to shiver with life - excited howls echoing eerily from its depths as numerous creatures watch your efforts from below.

Then you hear a bellow. Behind you the girl’s frustration has boiled over, and you begin to feel dread permeate your heart. Suddenly, you’re propelled yet more by an excruciating force from behind as the demon girl finally gains on you, and collides injuriously with your legs. You lose all control, and find yourself soaring towards the mountain with unstoppable velocity. Before long, its intricacies begin to materialise, and ahead there is naught but the jagged body of its face, zooming helplessly towards you.

A discouraging crunch and explosion of pain suddenly strikes you, and you plummet helplessly to the ledge which juts from the mountainside. The collision leaves you dazed, incapacitated, and for a long while you struggle to suppress the pain that plagues you. The power of the demon’s pursuit was, at the very least, daunting. With the lack of wind and absence of clouds, your surroundings seems somewhat misplaced, a peculiar setting for a mountain. For a while you await the approach of your enemy, her powerful pulse of darkness throwing you against the rocky body once more. But nothing materialises, not a sound save for the distant cries of zealous beasts of darkness. Within you, the power of Perona still resides, flowing like a spectral ooze through your veins. The pain begins to subside, and you hoist yourself to your feet.

You glance up at the moon, and do not see any sign of the demon girl. For a moment, you wonder why Niamh had intended for you to reach this location, and glance around, spying naught but the black rock at all angles. But dread then fills your heart as you see her, stepping from behind a rock, her piercing eyes glaring daggers at your souls.

“Do you have any idea who I am, Tim?” She asks, as calm as though she were speaking to an ally, “I am Darkrai.” With that, the great shadowy wings once again unfold from behind her, obstructing the moonlight from view as she prepares another attack.

What will you do?
[Awesome updates Tale! Don't worry about making us wait, we don't mind at all. =D]

"D-Darkrai?" Tim said dumbfounded, "I- I don't care if your Satan himself, I'll take you on! After all Niamh has been through with this fight against you, I can't just let everything be for naught!" Tim said, mustering up all of his strength and courage. "This mountain.... will be your grave if I have anything to do with it." Tim threatened as his head hung down. He slowly looked up to the Darkrai possessed girl, revealing Perona's crimson eyes illuminating Tim's face. Those fierce, furocious, blood-colored eyes expressed the most intense hatred Tim had ever felt for a creature. "That poor girl..." Tim thought to himself "she has been the real victim here. I wonder how long she has had been controlled by this horrible creature..." The pokemon-human hybrid had made a resolution, "Darkrai... I will rid your presence from this girl. I'm willing to die if it means taking you with me! Today is your last day in her body!" he shouted strongly and firmly. "I don't want to talk anymore, I just want to destroy you." Tim finished, preparing to attack. "Perona, let's use Gravity to keep Darkrai on the mountain with us. Then I think we should try another Ice Beam, and then Shadow Punch." he thought to Perona, who was within Tim's heart and soul. "Dus." she said agreeingly. "Great." Tim said softly as he began to prepare for battle.
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Old 05-21-2009, 06:22 AM   #430
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HERE I AM! Sorry about that, guys, slight lapse in update time which I'll work hard to avoid in the future. Although, I should probably warn that the approaching exams may restrict daily updates for the next three or four weeks. Just to forewarn you. Thank you for the brilliant responses - these may be the longest updates I've written in ages. Treepanda, congratulations on receiving my longest ever. I hope you all enjoy them.
The Comet Corner

Treepandaone: Your polite introduction is met with approval, and it is with a favourable exchange of glances between the men that your respect amongst them is embedded. As you convey, while borne in mind are the considerations of the warmth which these strangers have thus far presented, your desires to encounter a species of substantial rarity, Doru’s smile widens with each word you speak.

“Well, Matthew,” Doru says, directing your attention to him with a light grasp of your arm, “as you can quite plainly see, the Comet Corner scarcely presents a species beyond that of the natural born wanderer - such as ourselves. Never have I seen in such times the presence of an untamed beast - let alone that of mystical inclination. And yet, it is for such reasons that I am moved by your sudden appearance, Matthew, as though the stars forsook it,” he gazes at you, the gem lodged into his eyebrow catching your eye as he scrutinises your face, “yes…I fear it was no coincidence that brought you here to us. But then, I have little faith in chance.” You are somewhat disheartened by the words that Doru speaks, and you cannot suppress a feeling of pointlessness to the presence of not only yourself, but that of your novel company. As Doru bends down to hoist the load that had previously overwhelmed Gavril from the ground, you spy the glint in Petre’s eye within the glance exchanged between you. Then, as Doru rises, he motions for you to follow. You do so, heading directly for the crowd ahead.

“Yet, the times in which you’ve currently emerged, Matthew, are not the most typical. We are here, we travelling people, to witness the grandest spectacle that the entire Cloud Garden has to offer. You have heard, I am sure, of the illustrious star-showers that occur in these parts whenever a still and silent night emerges. It is rumoured that at these times, the mystical beasts to which you refer are said to appear, though for only a short while, mind you.” Your previous disheartenment is slowly smothered by Doru’s escalating tone, the rapidity of words through which his excitement is conveyed sparking similar emotions within yourself. As you walk, you find yourself walking amongst the colourful crowd of travellers, their every attire swathed in embellishments and mismatched cloth, their affable gazes welcoming you without words. Amongst them walk creatures of all types, from the asymmetrical carriage-pullers such as ponyta and girafarig, to the more subtle companions such as the slowpokes and mankies which stood further to the ground. The three carriages, you notice at such proximity, are enormous, and require four of the equestrian beasts to pull each of them. The songs and music burst from the apprehensive silence once again as the crowd see you accompanying Doru, and you are immediately stirred by the joviality that cannot seemingly bare restraint.

“Yet tonight, Matthew, tonight is the night of the most beautiful, the most magnificent of all the showers. It is a ceaselessly annual occurrence, that is said to originate from the Wish Maker - Jirachi. Truly it is a spectacle to behold, and the beasts which flood the plains are vast. Yet, there is more to this star shower, we have discovered in our annual visits. Every year, we accumulate the wishes of every man and woman, divulge them to Stela, our mystic elder, and she performs to the shower a ritual through which each of our wishes are presented - and do you know what? They come true, Matthew! The powers of this mystical sight are staggering. It does not apply to every wish, however, for there are those whose wish’s do not attain fruition. Year upon year I divulge the same wish…yet my desires have yet to materialise. This year, I am hopeful.” As Doru explains their story to you, you feel your anticipation well to a palpable extent. You cannot suppress, with the combined influence of the song in which you are immersed, the joy that Doru’s words inspire. Around you, various men and women of inconceivable diversity greet you, many contributing to the music that echoes for miles across the plains.

One of the travellers, however, does not collaborate in any form. She merely moves with almost spectral grace, her flowing black and silver dress gliding gracefully across the grass. Beside her marches a Granbull of substantial age, gazing into the sunset meditatively as it sustains its pace alongside its elegant master. As Doru closes in on the woman, you ascertain that it is to her that he desired to take you, and as you register the beaded grey hair that hangs below her waist you vaguely determine her age.

“Stela,” Doru says, guiding your towards the old woman that you now deduce is the mystic to which he’d referred moments earlier. The old woman stops, as does her Granbull, and turns slowly. The sheer magnitude and frequency of the wrinkles that smother her face is enough to indicate her age, and from behind her squinted, piercing green eyes you detect unfathomable wisdom that only one adept to the mysteries of the world can retain. In her left hand a twisted root forms her walking stick, and her beaded hair hangs alongside a silken shawl that shimmers iridescently in the setting sunlight. She stands at almost half your size, crouched like a hag, but with a regal aura that you cannot help but respect. “Stela, this is Matthew,” Doru continues, seemingly dismissive of her scrutinising glare as his words are recited with evident zeal, “he is a traveller like ourselves who has shown us a selfless kindness which has inspired the entire community. I have brought him to you with the hopes of your approval granting him the opportunity to submit his wish for tonight’s shower. Truly, I believe he is special.”

As you both await her response, she closes the small gap between you with elegance. You feel her eyes scrutinising your very thoughts as she surveys every detail of your face, with no expression altering her wrinkled visage. She then turns to Doru, “No.” The word, uttered in a whisper that you can barely distinguish, discourages you slightly due to the bluntness of her judgement with but a look at your face to go by. Doru also frowns, seemingly dismayed by her response, and Stela glides back to the spot beside her Granbull. Slowly, the musical procession moves past as you stand awaiting Doru’s response.

“I cannot accept Matthew’s wish,” Stela continues, gazing into the ever-lowering sun that slowly hides behind a distant hill, “I cannot until he has achieved a true status of nomad. The admittance ceremony is compulsory, Doru, you know this.” From her speech you ascertain that her voice seems unable to rise above the whisper with which she communicates. Turning to Doru, you see him give you a smile before turning to a passing nomad and whispering something in his ear. The stranger looks at you with intrigue, before ceasing his guitar-playing and jogging over to another of the crowd, seeming to carry on the message that Doru had just relayed.

“Yes, of course,” Doru says to you, a hand upon your shoulder, “I intended to have you submit your own wish to Stela, so that she can include it into tonight’s ritual. However, you are not yet truly one of our own until you pass a certain…test. Stela will not accept the wishes of outsiders, I’m afraid,” as Doru speaks, you notice the crowd begin to halt, and congregate around where you stand, the music slowly fading to be replaced by viral whispers. Doru registers the amount of spectators before continuing, “So, Matthew, if you feel up to it, this is the task that you must achieve. We travelling people have attained a certain…fame for our ability to convey the most compelling of stories. In spite of our fondness for story-telling, we never tire of hearing them, and each night we will tell a great number of them, from five to about ten! And never is one story the same, because no matter how similar they can become, no man tells a story in the same way. It has become a custom among us, therefore, that every new addition to our group must demonstrate their ability to convey a compelling story. So, Matthew, if you would like to join us tonight in gazing upon the spectacle that is the star-shower, you must first undertake the storytelling challenge. Use your pokemon, use your skills in acting, singing dancing - whatever! As long as you can relay a story to render us spellbound, we shall gladly allow you the opportunity to have your wish come true!” With that, Doru retreats into the now encircling crowd, too innumerable to count, that each gaze at you with affable, anticipating eyes.

You stand alone in the circle that they have created, and possess naught but your items and companions to aid your story, should you decide to recite it. Whatever your choice, the travellers seem particularly eager.

What will you do?
For your long update, you shall receive one of mine,
Fruition and place, like lemon and lime,
But alas, now I cannot stop rhyming,
It came at such impeccable timing.

Ok, I’m done. Don’t worry about the next few weeks, good luck with your exams.

Matthew stood still as he felt his arrival met with approval, wiping a bead of sweat from his face as he thought about the implications of a hostile situation, a flavourable exchange of glances put his respect in the troupe’s group spirit. As he listened to the conversation, Matthew’s mind filled with thankfulness that the troupe had accepted him with warmth thus far, as the thought of rare Pokmon made the leader’s smile widen. As Matthew stood riveted, he felt reassurance from the man’s smile.

“Well, Matthew,” Matthew felt the light grasp on his arm, beckoning him to where Doru was referring too “as you can quite plainly see, the Comet Corner scarcely presents a species beyond that of the natural born wanderer - such as ourselves. Never have I seen in such times the presence of an untamed beast - let alone that of mystical inclination. And yet, it is for such reasons that I am moved by your sudden appearance, Matthew, as though the stars forsook it,” Matthew felt the man stare at him, a gem wedged in his eyes caught Matthew’s eye as he tilted his head in trying to get a better view. Doru continued with scrutinizing his face but Matthew still stared deeply into the gem, something drawing him to it. “yes…I fear it was no coincidence that brought you here to us. But then, I have little faith in chance.”

Matthew smiled politely, disheartened by the words of the man as he gazed up at the stars once again, thinking of the mythical pokmon that wasn’t to be, a feeling of pointlessness coursed through his body, making him breathe a deep sigh. With Doru picking up the burden that had overwhelmed Gavril, Matthew spotted a glint in Petre’s eye as they exchanged glances, as Matthew felt it draw him once more. Slowly turning back to Doru, Matthew stroked his tuft once more, as Doru motioned to follow as Matthew saw the crowd directly ahead.

“Yet, the times in which you’ve currently emerged, Matthew, are not the most typical. We are here, we travelling people, to witness the grandest spectacle that the entire Cloud Garden has to offer. You have heard, I am sure, of the illustrious star-showers that occur in these parts whenever a still and silent night emerges. It is rumoured that at these times, the mystical beasts to which you refer are said to appear, though for only a short while, mind you.”

Matthew felt his heart being lifted once more, the star showers a gracefull spectical that any trainer would have wished to see as the escalating tone of Doru seemed to heighten his thoughts once more, daydreaming of the mystical beasts he spoke of. Matthew threw away the thoughts as the man explained more, but Matthew couldn’t help but notice the excitement in the man, his own emotions replaying the same thing. As Matthew walked with the man, he found himself wondering among the most colourful crowd of travelers as he felt the clothing dance and merge with other items of mismatched cloth to create a rainbow of majesty. Smiling, Matthew felt their affable gazes welcome him without words, the creatures all looking as well. Had this been any other time, Matthew would have pulled out his Pokdex and examined the creatures more, fascinated in the vast species of Pokmon as he recognized a Ponyta and Girafarig standing in front of the carriages as pulling lackeys. As he looked down, Matthew saw slowpoke and Mankys littered along to floor as companions. With his beaming face glancing around the group, Matthew gasped in awe at the carriages size, three enormous carriages needing four of the power pulling Pokmon to get off the ground to a start. With the hostile situation gone, Matthew heard the songs and music burst from silence as the crowd once again began to dance with the accompanist with Doru.

“Yet tonight, Matthew, tonight is the night of the most beautiful, the most magnificent of all the showers. It is a ceaselessly annual occurrence that is said to originate from the Wish Maker - Jirachi. Truly it is a spectacle to behold, and the beasts which flood the plains are vast. Yet, there is more to this star shower, we have discovered in our annual visits. Every year, we accumulate the wishes of every man and woman, divulge them to Stela, our mystic elder, and she performs to the shower a ritual through which each of our wishes are presented - and do you know what? They come true, Matthew! The powers of this mystical sight are staggering. It does not apply to every wish, however, for there are those whose wishes do not attain fruition. Year upon year I divulge the same wish…yet my desires have yet to materialize. This year, I am hopeful.”

Matthew’s head began to spin, the thought of the legendary wish-maker looking over the ceremony to grant wishes filled him with en-wonderment, as he listened closely to the story, the feeling of anticipation filling him to a palpable extent. Matthew felt alive with power, whether it be the influence of the songs or the joy of Doru’s words, Matthew didn’t care as the feeling swept him off his feet. Meeting and greeting various men and women of inconceivable diversity, Matthew saw as many contributed to the music that echoed from the plains.

As Matthew looked on, he saw one of the travelers, not collaborating at all. Looking with a tilted head, Matthew noticed her moves as spectral gaze, a flowing black and silver dress gliding gently across the grass. Looking down at the swish, Matthew looked beside her as a Granbull of old gazed into the sunset meditatively as it walked in the same pace as its master. As Matthew watched on, he saw Doru close in on the woman as Matthew realized this was the woman that he desired to take him to, the beaded gray hair dangling below her waist indicating her age.
and as you register the beaded grey hair that hangs below her waist you vaguely determine her age.

“Stela,” Matthew looked on at the mystic, concluding his thoughts on the woman as the mystic to which Doru had reffered to as the old woman stops, turning slowly. Matthew looked on with a furrowed brow, the sheer magnitude and frequency of the wrinkles amazed him, her age much older than he had first anticipated as he looked deep in to her eyes, the piercing green eyes holding invaluable information of adept and mystery as Matthew looked on. Her left hand held a twisted root that formed as a walking stick as the sunlight radianced the aura, the small woman crouched over.

“Stela, this is Matthew,” Matthew smiled nervously, her scrutinising glare ignored as Doru continued, “he is a traveller like ourselves who has shown us a selfless kindness which has inspired the entire community. I have brought him to you with the hopes of your approval granting him the opportunity to submit his wish for tonight’s shower. Truly, I believe he is special.”

Matthew fell on the tip of his toes, awaiting the woman’s response, as she closed the gap between them. Matthew noticed her eyes scrutinizing his every thought as she scaned his face with detail, no expression altering on her face before turning to Doru.


“No.”

Matthew felt himself deflate in an instant, the words whispered as he felt the bluntness of her judgment with but a look. Looking at Doru, Matthew saw the frown on his face as well as they both stood dismayed at her response as the woman glided back to the spot beside her Granbull as Matthew looked back at Doru, waiting for a response.

“I cannot accept Matthew’s wish,” Matthew darted back to Stela, the reasoning intriguing him as Stela gazed over at the ever-lowering sun that hid behind a distant hill. “I cannot until he has achieved a true status of nomad. The admittance ceremony is compulsory, Doru, you know this.” Matthew looked at the old woman once more, diagnosing her speech was unable to rise above a whisper. Turning back to Doru, Matthew looked puzzled as he gave him a smile and turned to a passing nomad before whispering in his ear. With the stranger looking at his with intrigue, Matthew noticed him stop playing guitar and jogging over to another crowd, carrying on the message.

“Yes, of course,” Matthew looked back at Doru as he felt his hand upon his shoulder, “I intended to have you submit your own wish to Stela, so that she can include it into tonight’s ritual. However, you are not yet truly one of our own until you pass a certain…test. Stela will not accept the wishes of outsiders, I’m afraid,”

As Doru spoke, Matthew noticed the crowd stop, halting and congregating around where he stood, as the music faded to whispers. As Doru looked around, he registered the amount of spectators that surrounded him, “So, Matthew, if you feel up to it, this is the task that you must achieve. We travelling people have attained a certain…fame for our ability to convey the most compelling of stories. In spite of our fondness for story-telling, we never tire of hearing them, and each night we will tell a great number of them, from five to about ten! And never is one story the same, because no matter how similar they can become, no man tells a story in the same way. It has become a custom among us, therefore, that every new addition to our group must demonstrate their ability to convey a compelling story. So, Matthew, if you would like to join us tonight in gazing upon the spectacle that is the star-shower, you must first undertake the storytelling challenge. Use your pokemon, use your skills in acting, singing dancing - whatever! As long as you can relay a story to render us spellbound, we shall gladly allow you the opportunity to have your wish come true!” As Matthew looked around, he saw Doru retreating into the encircling crowd as he felt the gaze upon him. Grasping a Pokball from his belt, Matthew sent out Rhyhorn, instructing him to stamp on the floor with a steady beat, tapping his chest as he began.

Let me tell you of a story of glee
It was scary and that, a story of me
My first adventure in a cave so baron
Little did I know I’d be stepping on cascaron

When I first arrived, everything seemed ancient
But alas, I was met by the local resident
With my gear on my back, I ran through the rubble
That is where, I ran into trouble

The darkness; engulfed me
A meter in front was all I could see
As I glanced around, char marks were apparent
I ventured further, I needed no warrant

The sun streamed through cracks
Though at the time it seemed lax
Until a huge face did appear
I could’ve done with a beer

Standing my ground, so foolish I was
I answers I sought, came after a pause
Gazing into the past, I saw two thieves
Stealing a stone, abandoning one, then trying to leave

As I rushed through the rooms, I fell down some stairs
My clothing ruined, all covered in tears
The next room I found was covered in crystals
In a tomb with no wind, not even a Mistral

I used an ape to grab a treasure
Only to find it brought me no pleasure
A trap that was set had caught me in good
Falling 50 stories and surviving I understood

But meeting two thieves down there
Put me in quite a scare
Trying to fool them I put on an act
But it was no good, and they attacked

With comrades and trust, I managed to gain
The upper hand, until they went insane
Explosion they called, I thought it all over
Until a psychic solrock saved me, thank snover

Teleported I was to a king colored gold
The throne room in ruins, a sign of how old
The mad king did decree, the thieves to be guilty
I proved myself innocent, but the king, he was filthy

A blood thirsty king, set up for life
Wanted me to kill, a dear shinx, he wasn’t so nice
After I disciplined, he forced me to battle
With no-one around, there was no way to tattle

Challenge him, I did, all courageous and what
Beat him I did, finishing off with a cut
But with psychic pokmon, a trick he did play
It was the small shinx, that he ordered me to slay

With reckless abandon, a price that was unjust
He king left, guilt was a thrust
One kind solrock comforted me
But what I’d done, I fell to one knee

The solrock examined, the poor shinx’s body
The death was not clear, it alive, but still shoddy
With potions amass I healed the electric thing
A Pokball I got, threw with a sling

Another journey back in time, the solrock had taken
With me in its memories, it was so shaken
Its previous king, a espeon so humble
The current king killed it, a mix up quite jumble

With the dear so attached, a humbled with powers
I captured the shinx, and with promise of cower
I left the temple a promise and gifts
To return one day and extract revenge with my fists

With the song over, Matthew grasped another Pokball from his belt, unwinding his arm as he threw the Pokball high into the sky as it popped open, the white figure settling down to be a shinx as it hopped onto his shoulder, a flower between its ears.
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Old 05-21-2009, 11:14 AM   #431
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Thank you guys - brilliant replies. Sorry I couldn't get these up sooner today.


Delibird Ridge: The Caverns

Fishyfool: As you communicate your compromise to the dark imp, the Sableye affixes its glittering gaze upon you. Your mention of a suspicious man does not seem to prompt a response of any particular inclination, and as you finish, the Sableye makes no motion whatsoever. For a few moments, the small creature toys with the radio, deep in thought - then holds the device at arms length, surveying it with intrigue. A thought of some particularly enlightening nature then causes it to hop with excitement, its mischievous grin stretching once more across its dark face. It hugs the radio protectively as it hops across its den, scouring the ground for some particular item or location. You watch it as it eagerly drops to the ground and begins to drag its free claw across the damp stone. Then it pauses, seemingly having found a loose piece in its inclining floor, and glances up at you, its radiant grin still plastered across its shadowy features. Within a few seconds, the ghostly cave-dweller has heaved the loose stone from the ground, unearthing a gaping hole that seems wide enough to accommodate a body as wide as yours, but not an inch larger. It hisses with excitement at its discovery, and scurries along the den floor to climb its walls once more, the newly-awarded radio still clutched firmly in its claws.

You slowly walk over to the hole the Sableye had revealed and glance inside. The slope indicates that you’ll have to crawl into it, as opposed to leaping feet-first, and as you attempt to discern as far as possible its interior, all that you can distinguish is a small tunnel that continues for as far as you can distinguish, declining slightly as it goes. This is a space tighter than any you’ve come across so far, and is evidently formed by and for the Sableye occupant, perhaps connecting to a second den that it has cleverly pinpointed. You hope that the tunnel will eventually widen, but for now, neither of your current companions can accompany you into the hole, due to its confinement.

As you glance into the foreboding hole, you remind yourself that you needn’t trust the impish creature and descend into a hole that leads to a place unknown - that is if anywhere. Sableye are known for their tendency to fool and ensnare spelunkers, and with its interests satisfied, it seems that this Sableye has no need for you to hang around. If you were to retreat from its den, there is the entrance to the cave, and even the Onix’s tunnels open for exploration. These you ponder over as the Sableye clutches at the wall, clicking the radio between its claws, completely engrossed by the novel gadget.

What will you do?
Watching the Sableye with slightly detached interest, the gremlin grinning as it fingered at the ground before lifting a large stone to reveal a tunnel, one which seemed an incredibly tight fit for him. Looking back at Volcape and Wraith, he realised that perhaps said tunnel was too large for them both as he sighed before looking back at the Sableye as it listened to said radio, and Jamie prayed that Ryan didn't spook it if he called back.

Staring into the inky blackness of the tunnel, he wished he had a flashlight of some sort before venturing into caves, and questioned exactly where Reagan was in the tunnel. Noting that the labyrinth cave system had the Onix's den in it as well, he looked into the tunnel, getting onto his knees, and contemplated said pathway. He knew that Sableye enjoyed trapping spelunkers in strange situations, and if this was a ruse to get him stuck somewhere, he'd be highly unimpressed. However, looking back at the Marshtomp, he realised that the smaller water pokemon could follow him, if a tight squeeze.

"Wraith, we're heading into this tunnel," Jamie announced to the two as he proceeded to place a hand on the entrance of the cave while recalling Volcape. "I'll be heading in first, and I want you to follow me through. If this cave is a dead end, haul me back out with some superpower while climbing up the tunnel with your strength, and we'll try that Onix's lair instead."

With a nod, Jamie prayed that the tunnel had an other side to it, aiming to bring light back with Volcape at the other side.
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Old 05-24-2009, 06:11 PM   #432
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Thank you guys, these updates provided me with some much-desired periods of respite against the toil of revision =(. Thank you for being so understanding. This week is a half-term holiday. So, theoretically, updates should be more frequent during this time. In three weeks, the exams will be all over...

Shit.


The Rainbow Waterfalls

Pearl's Perap: “A compromise. Very rational, Zak, it is impressive,” Reynard says, patting you on the shoulder as he looks expectantly at his second associate. Sebastian remains silent for a few seconds, mulling over the implications of such a course of action before taking a deep breath and adjusting his aviators.

“Very well, Zak. Then you’ll battle from outside Keeley’s tent, if that is what you wish. At least we shall have your participation. While a battle is not certain, the possibility is dominant - so this is what we shall do, if these men retaliate. Zak, with your latest team member I’ll request that you take care of any avian threat, it is likely that they will attempt to raid the camp with small aerial creatures well-versed in theft and agility. Allow me and Reynard to handle the rest,” Sebastian instructs, before turning to leave the tent. Reynard swiftly tails him, slipping through the charred hole as Esmond, panting, pursues him.

With your intentions arranged, you also slip through the hole and welcome the refreshing cool air after having been encircled by the smoke of Esteban’s previous attack. “Over there, Zak,” Reynard says quietly, indicating the tent that stands at the end, the reinforced structure that you had correctly assumed to be Keeley’s current prison. You cooperatively move towards it, Alice bouncing on your shoulder with each step you take. Drawing closer, you can see that the very walls of the tent are made of particularly resilient fabric, seemingly able to withstand any kind of assault - such as the flame of a dragon. As you finally stand just a few inches from the steps that lead to its padlocked entrance, you turn to face the events that begin to unfurl.

Sebastian’s Blastoise obstructs the main body of the group, but you can see the apparent leader speaking rather heatedly with Sebastian, who stands with authoritative composure. The man wears a thick, grey, sleeveless jacket that sports a vast array of pockets containing, you presume, a number of various tools through which his exploits can be aided. You recall the referral to these men as mercenaries, and now that you survey his bedraggled visage, his blonde, spiked hair and unkempt goatee, the notion grows more and more believable. With but the odd distinguishable word reaching your ears as the mercenary’s voice begins to rise, you notice how Reynard, quietly stood at Sebastian’s side, slowly grasps his rifle with both hands.

Suddenly, the mercenary lifts a pistol and fires two shots point-blank into Sebastian’s stomach. Utterly stunned, you watch as Reynard deftly cocks his rifle and lodges a tranquiliser into the mercenary’s skull before Sebastian even hits the floor, and before the mercenary can turn his weapon onto Reynard. The scenario erupts to a worse extent than you could have conceived. With unwavering stalwartness, the Blastoise takes a step to shield Reynard from the swift bout of rifle fire that ensues, employing its practically impenetrable shell to deflect the bullets before graver damage is dealt. Esmond also wastes no time, and lunges into the fray fearlessly, tackling one of the mercenaries to the ground and tearing viciously at the face of the oppressor. Meanwhile, Reynard drops to the ground and begins dragging his motionless ally towards the tent you’d only moments ago evacuated.

Suddenly, a mercenary calls out, and points towards Esmond. A few begin to redirect their fire, but the Blastoise retaliates with crucial precision, drowning the crowd in a wave of resilient bubbles that seem to intercept the gunfire and knock a few men from their feet. One of them calls out again, and a few flashes suddenly burst from the commotion, releasing two more creatures that soar from the fray with nimbleness. As the two creatures begin to flutter towards the surrounding tents, you distinguish them both as the tiny Taillow species, apt for invading the smallest of crevices that lead to the tents’ interiors.

It is time for you to take action.



The Rose Arch: Dark Mountain

Mewsic Box: Your bravery truly brims from the eyes of crimson that glare daggers into the possessed spirit of your enemy. Darkrai, the creature of nightmares, the twisted puppeteer in this godforsaken tangle of a scenario in which you’ve found yourself unwillingly thrust, now faces you head-on, shedding on you the light of responsibility that no average trainer could possibly retain the disposition to bear. Undaunted by its revelation, you swear by Niamh’s virtuous name that you shall rid the scourge from the body of innocence. Your vision is swathed in the crimson of your rage, and your every action spurred by the strength of your resolution.

Once more the power of your spectral companion tingles at your finger tips, and as you raise your arm, the girl finds her body pulled violently to the ground - stuck to the mountain side. “You’re a brave trainer, Tim.” Darkrai’s demonic voice speaks as she strains to push herself back to her feet, stumbling in the power of your efforts. Slowly, laboriously, her head lifts to gaze directly into your eyes. Her black hair quivers in the escalating breeze, and slowly a smile creeps along her unwholesome face as the wind intensifies around her. Gradually you feel the valour drain from your system as though stolen by the winds that whip at your face, and within seconds gust after gust crash relentlessly into your body, causing you to stagger ominously close to the edge. The wind seems to carry fear itself, bombarding your bravery with the powers of darkness that emanates from your demonic adversary.

“Frightened, Tim?” Darkrai inquires suggestively, delighted in your current state of anxiety. Its statement is substantial in provoking your fury, and with the familiar sensation of tingling frost moving through your right arm, you assume the poise through which your Ice Beam can successfully travel. The girl’s expression swiftly changes, and hoisting herself to her feet she raises her own arm.

“Do you struggle to learn?” Darkrai taunts, as the Night Shade bolts spark from the palm of her hand just as the mighty beam of ice is forced from your own, until once more you find yourself grappling with the magnitude of your conflicting might. You refuse to remit, and exert your efforts into assuaging the tendrils of darkness that burst from your enemy’s clawed hand, lapping the rock beneath it with the unpredictability of lightning. The intensity of her glare evokes assurance in the seeming strain of Darkrai’s resistance, and your confidence flows through to the power of your Ice Beam, edging it further into the consumption of your enemy’s Night Shade. Your crimson eyes affix themselves upon her determined glare, and your own fortitude seems to assuage the severity of the numbness prompted by the icy power surging through your arm. Yet the vitality that still animates you both in equal measures establishes the seeming futility of your conflicting efforts.

Darkrai then cries with the strain to which you’ve subjected it, and the girl’s body makes a lunge, breaking the war of energies and throwing your beam into the black rock behind her, forcing a large section to burst into fragments and establish an icy crater which shimmers in the moonlight. As you cease your failed attempt at an Ice Beam, the exertion forces you to stumble with fatigue, gasping for breath in the slight period of respite that Darkrai’s submission permits. You then hear its demonic bellow from beside you, and turn in suitable time to reflexively Punch the girl directly on her jaw, the ghostly power sending her reeling backwards in agony.

“How?!” Darkrai yells, before regaining its composure, shadow growing from the ground beneath it as though it were a source, “how is it you can harm me?” The girls icy eyes glare at you once again, and for a split second, as though it were a trick of the moonlight, you see their colour alter to a dark green before morphing to the icy blue that strikes such fear in your heart. She bellows again, her body surrounded by an aura of darkness, before charging at you again. If she collides, you’ll be knocked from the mountainside.

What will you do?



The Comet Corner

Treepandaone: Every second of your story is unhindered by the voices of the spectators, or the slightest hint of movement from their bodies. They seem to hang upon your every word with a captivation you’d probably expect of a race so enthused by the art of story telling. Children, who had all shuffled to the front before your story was underway, sit, stand and lie with their mouths agape and their eyes alight, engrossed in your tale as though it were an epic fable, and mesmerised by the steady thump of your Rhyhorn as it exuded hypnotic qualities. Your song, which progresses with almost palpable lucidity, has truly achieved its purpose.

You conclude with the effective production of Lexi, who hops happily onto your shoulder and placidly surveys the surrounding crowd. A second’s silence ensues before your audience explode into applause and cheers, proffering standing ovations and all varieties of enthusiastic praise and appreciation. You stand still in the centre of the circle of applause and watch as every traveller zealously commends your compelling efforts. After a while, Doru emerges from the crowd, his arms above his head in applause as he approaches you at the centre, pulling you towards him in a one-armed hug as he encourages the crowd surrounding you.

“Fantastically done, Matthew!” He cries, seemingly enthralled by your song. Slowly, you then notice, the furore begins to subside. A few of the travellers begin to step aside as somebody move through the crowd. A few seconds later, Stela emerges, her Granbull close behind, and glides along the ground to approach you. Doru ceases his ignition of the crowd’s excitement and watches Stela with an enthusiastic smile as she slowly approaches you. Her mystic green eyes look you up and down, lingering on Lexi for a few minutes before she opens her mouth to speak. The crowd falls silent in an instance, and her whisper slowly ensues.

“Matthew, you have surpassed expectation considerably and defeated the traveller’s test with an aplomb that all prospective travellers should admire and respect. To mark your initiation amongst our ranks, I present to you these, our traveller’s beads,” she plucks from her heavily-embellished waist a string of seemingly useless trinkets, shells and stones of all varieties that shimmer in the dying light of the sun. Unable to reach your neck, she hands them to you with an outstretched arm. “Accompanying these beads is the admittance of a single wish. Your wish - depending on its prospective validity as decided by the Wish-Maker himself - shall be submitted in tonight’s great star-shower, and, should luck and destiny allow it, attain the fruition that has thus far eluded you.” The crowd sustains its silence as they look on with bated breath.

“Now, Matthew. What is your wish?”



Delibird Ridge: Sableye's Tunnel

Seakittenyfool: For a few seconds, you contemplate the possible implications of clambering into a confined space formed and revealed by a Sableye, whose gain in your own death is somewhat outweighed by its gain in your persistent presence within its lair. Of paramount importance to a beast so impish and possibly savage is its own short-term satisfaction, and you feel somewhat edgy about its intention in luring you to an area so restricted by enclosing walls of solid rock. Nevertheless, with Wraith at your tail, your concerns are significantly assuaged, and you formulate a backup solution within minutes of gazing apprehensively into the tunnel.

You nod, and lower yourself to your stomach to begin dragging yourself inside. As you plunge, you gaze into naught but a bleak pitch-black distance, shading the unknown with an ominous cloak. For all you know, the stretch ahead houses a nest of unwholesome beasts - snakes, spiders, devilish creatures that mean you naught but harm in the quest to satiate their baser desires. With Wraith at your tail, you’ve not a single defence against oncoming possibilities save for the hands with which you edgily clamber your way into the tunnel, until at last you are submerged. You assure yourself of Wraith’s presence, somewhat solaced by the confidence in his capabilities, yet still the darkness swallows you whole as vulnerable as you were to the crushing jaws of the leviathan you’d left behind. You struggle to distinguish the figments of your imagination from the physical sounds that seem to stem from deep within, what with your sight impeded by the stifling black. You half anticipate the eventual establishment of discerning vision habitually prompted by conditions so dark, but you may as well seal your eyes shut for the futility in their use. The slightest movement of your head causes the ceiling to scratch at your scalp, and you painfully maintain the uncompromising positioning of your feet in order to enhance your mobility and avoid triggering a bout of claustrophobia or panic. Were you made of more fragile matter, the sheer sense of restriction would likely lead to your undesirable and untimely death. The one notion to which your hope clings is the ability to reverse and eventually liberate yourself from the rocky prison. Yet, with your path progressing the way it is, your concerns lay predominantly in the oncoming darkness into which you slowly sink.

The path progresses for what seems to be an eternity - to such an extent that your mind allows itself to wander into reflection. If the Sableye had intended to trap you, you’d ascertained from the tunnel’s depth that its intentions were not to do so itself. Perhaps, you consider, it is leading you to something more sinister.

Suddenly, a sound is heard. You pause, and realise that your eyes have finally begun to adjust to the darkness, as the jagged walls of the tunnel are barely distinguishable. From what you could discern, the sound was of something living, a groan of something that possesses a voice. Your mind begins to race from the considerations, and with little else to do, you scramble further forwards, partly hoping to encounter another human presence within the tunnel. Slowly, the walls begin to materialise, as though with your progression you edge closer to a source of light. The noise occurs again, this time more distinguishable as something muffled, something that can speak but the words indistinguishable with the distance and the depth.

Then a shaft of light. Directly ahead, luminosity that is almost blinding, despite its truthful softness. It seems to stem from a connecting tunnel, a vertical chute that leads to what you can only assume is the surface. The sound then repeats, a voice, this time discernable.

“Throw him in there. Then cover it back up.” The voice is unfamiliar, gruff and authoritative. Suddenly, the light disappears, and a shuffling noise begins to draw closer. You remain where you are as the noise approaches, before the shaft of light reappears and a human body suddenly drops from the tunnel, immobile, unconscious. Then, slowly, the light begins to disappear.

What will you do?
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Old 05-25-2009, 08:16 AM   #433
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Thank you guys, these updates provided me with some much-desired periods of respite against the toil of revision =(. Thank you for being so understanding. This week is a half-term holiday. So, theoretically, updates should be more frequent during this time. In three weeks, the exams will be all over...

Shit.



Delibird Ridge: Sableye's Tunnel

Seakittenyfool: For a few seconds, you contemplate the possible implications of clambering into a confined space formed and revealed by a Sableye, whose gain in your own death is somewhat outweighed by its gain in your persistent presence within its lair. Of paramount importance to a beast so impish and possibly savage is its own short-term satisfaction, and you feel somewhat edgy about its intention in luring you to an area so restricted by enclosing walls of solid rock. Nevertheless, with Wraith at your tail, your concerns are significantly assuaged, and you formulate a backup solution within minutes of gazing apprehensively into the tunnel.

You nod, and lower yourself to your stomach to begin dragging yourself inside. As you plunge, you gaze into naught but a bleak pitch-black distance, shading the unknown with an ominous cloak. For all you know, the stretch ahead houses a nest of unwholesome beasts - snakes, spiders, devilish creatures that mean you naught but harm in the quest to satiate their baser desires. With Wraith at your tail, you’ve not a single defence against oncoming possibilities save for the hands with which you edgily clamber your way into the tunnel, until at last you are submerged. You assure yourself of Wraith’s presence, somewhat solaced by the confidence in his capabilities, yet still the darkness swallows you whole as vulnerable as you were to the crushing jaws of the leviathan you’d left behind. You struggle to distinguish the figments of your imagination from the physical sounds that seem to stem from deep within, what with your sight impeded by the stifling black. You half anticipate the eventual establishment of discerning vision habitually prompted by conditions so dark, but you may as well seal your eyes shut for the futility in their use. The slightest movement of your head causes the ceiling to scratch at your scalp, and you painfully maintain the uncompromising positioning of your feet in order to enhance your mobility and avoid triggering a bout of claustrophobia or panic. Were you made of more fragile matter, the sheer sense of restriction would likely lead to your undesirable and untimely death. The one notion to which your hope clings is the ability to reverse and eventually liberate yourself from the rocky prison. Yet, with your path progressing the way it is, your concerns lay predominantly in the oncoming darkness into which you slowly sink.

The path progresses for what seems to be an eternity - to such an extent that your mind allows itself to wander into reflection. If the Sableye had intended to trap you, you’d ascertained from the tunnel’s depth that its intentions were not to do so itself. Perhaps, you consider, it is leading you to something more sinister.

Suddenly, a sound is heard. You pause, and realise that your eyes have finally begun to adjust to the darkness, as the jagged walls of the tunnel are barely distinguishable. From what you could discern, the sound was of something living, a groan of something that possesses a voice. Your mind begins to race from the considerations, and with little else to do, you scramble further forwards, partly hoping to encounter another human presence within the tunnel. Slowly, the walls begin to materialise, as though with your progression you edge closer to a source of light. The noise occurs again, this time more distinguishable as something muffled, something that can speak but the words indistinguishable with the distance and the depth.

Then a shaft of light. Directly ahead, luminosity that is almost blinding, despite its truthful softness. It seems to stem from a connecting tunnel, a vertical chute that leads to what you can only assume is the surface. The sound then repeats, a voice, this time discernable.

“Throw him in there. Then cover it back up.” The voice is unfamiliar, gruff and authoritative. Suddenly, the light disappears, and a shuffling noise begins to draw closer. You remain where you are as the noise approaches, before the shaft of light reappears and a human body suddenly drops from the tunnel, immobile, unconscious. Then, slowly, the light begins to disappear.

What will you do?
Entering the tunnel with slight nerves, Jamie hoped that the Sableye wasn't on the devious side and that said tunnel had an exit to it as he entered the gloom, what feeble light was visible fading into darkness eternal. With Wraith at his tail, he inched through the darkness, his eyes as hopeless as they were in the shadows as he gave a slight sigh, his heart missing a beat as his mind began a battle of its own against insanity. Were there beasts around him, ready to tear him apart? What if said tunnel led to a cave full of ravenous Aerodactyl? Shaking his head, he gave a slight hiss as his scalp scratched against the rocky walls of the tunnel as he made a note to continue onwards, the fact that Wraith behind him could help him out if he got stuck dispelling any panic and fears he had.

After a while that seemed eternal, Jamie began to think about the Sableye's intentions: If it was trying to trap him, it wouldn't dig a tunnel as long as this, and said tunnel had indeed went on for a while. Thinking about it, his stomach took a slight lurch as he thought that perhaps it was working for Reagan and as soon as his head emerged from the tunnel it'd be blown off by the hunter's rifle. Removing said thoughts like that, he stopped as Wraith bumped into his feet as he heard a sound, a voice, much like a moan, but not that of Wraith. Realising it could be a human, he thought who it could be, and the sudden possibility that it was Ryan gave him cause to worry. However, in a tunnel of that size, he couldn't shake around, and so opted to continue onwards, his vision improving so that he could see the grain of the tunnel.

'At least it beats crawling blind...'

Crawling onwards, the sound became much clearer, if still indistinguishable as a human one, and the light ahead seemed much like a sanctuary from the stale air within the tunnel. Then the voice once more, seemingly an order to throw someone into the tunnel it was connected to. Stopping once more, Jamie registered something, or most likely someone, dropping into the tunnel, unconscious as the light began to fade. As far as things went, exiting right now would possibly reveal himself to whoever it was, and Jamie somehow had the feeling that the human who was dumped into the shaft was Ryan, a gut feeling, knowing how things usually turn out. Opting to wait until the light went out, he made a note to release Volcape once the darkness was in once more and check the unconscious fellow before preparing to move into the tunnel, his relief that said Sableye was truthful in his aid. Whispering to Wraith to wake the person up when they were through with a gentle water gun, he prepared to enter when the light went down...
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Old 05-28-2009, 03:57 AM   #434
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Thank you for the swift reply, fishy! As I read it, I got the impression that I've caused a misunderstanding regarding the description of the tunnel. I worked around it in the update, but I also drew some pictures to better illustrate just how things look in there. They're crude, but I hope they help to show how things look...
Before update (Wraith is behind you in this pic, I couldn't fit him in)
After update. If my pictures confuse you then don't hesitate to PM me =).


Delibird Ridge: Sableye's Tunnel

Seakittenyfool: You sensibly conclude to keep from poking up the chute until you ascertain certain details from the unconscious body that had been thrown into your path. Luckily, the chute he’d been dropped down was of substantial width, you estimate, to accommodate Volcape - though the vicinity will become particularly cramped after releasing him. The light that slowly dissipates from above is enough to reveal that the horizontal tunnel in which you crawl continues for a while longer, allowing you to shift further so that Wraith can reach the body. Conscious of the forced immobility, you deduce that the only way to allow Wraith access to him while you still face him is if you wriggle your way past and turn while positioning yourself within the chute, then lowering yourself back down so that you face the unconscious body on the other side. From there, Volcape could be released up the chute, allowing his flame to illuminate the situation.

The light then disappears.

Calling your orders back to Wraith, you begin to blindly make your way towards the chute. You feel the body beneath you as you clamber your way on top of it, rising to your feet when you are sure that the ceiling has risen up the vertical tunnel. Then, turning yourself around, you skilfully employ your senses to lower yourself back into the tunnel so that you can reverse, still facing the body and, if your senses serve you appropriately, Wraith. As you struggle to shift your body into position, you grasp Volcape’s ball and prepare to release once you’re free of the chute. You manoeuvre yourself successfully, albeit sustaining a few scratches from the encasing rock, and you begin to feel the soft breath of the unconscious man on your face when you release Volcape with an immediately blinding flash.

As anticipated, Volcape materialises up the chute, and you swiftly relay the details of the situation to him so as to assure his wellbeing and cooperation. A minute lingers as your eyes gradually succumb to the intensity of the novel luminosity. Slowly, you begin to distinguish Wraith’s face looking directly at you from the other side of the body, and you also distinguish the face of the unconscious man himself. He seems particularly cramped, pressed up against the tunnel wall like a rag-doll stuffed haphazardly into a crammed toy box, with a lop-sided fatigue cap shielding his tightly-shut eyes that quiver with the sudden burst of light. A thick black moustache flecked with grey stifles his pouted lips and his breathing is laborious, his portly belly unsuitable for such positioning within a space so confined. Looking at him, you presume, from his khaki attire and numerous stains, that he is also inclined to adventure. Yet, judging from the actions that had preceded this presumption, he seems to have collided with a spot of trouble on his travels.

You signal for Wraith to carry out his orders, and he does so, squirting a soft Water Gun to the man’s face. With the combined light and cold jet of water, the reaction is almost immediate, and the unconscious man stirs with a slight grumble, struggling to alter his position at all in the confinement. The panic seems to set in, prompting consciousness to leap back, snapping his eyes wide open as he seemingly struggles to comprehend the looming figure of Volcape before grunting slightly and attempting to rise - only to smack his head rather injuriously on the enclosing rock. He winces and slaps a hand to the wounded area, ceasing his panicked movement in an attempt to subdue the pain. As he begins to settle down, keeping his hand on his head as he opens his eyes, he suddenly seems to recognise your presence.

“Gah!” His voice is gruff, and he twitches with fright as he notices Wraith staring directly at him. Turning to you, he repeats the motion, obivously bewildered and significantly panicked by the entire situation. It seems to take a few seconds for him to ascertain that he is now looking at another human, and he surveys your face before speaking in a voice that seems strained, perhaps worn down.

“What is this? What is going on? You…you’re another one of Reagan’s lackeys aren’t you? Is this it for me then? Is this where I finally die? I knew he’d resort to it sooner or later - the cur! I never thought he’d stoop as low as human victims but I’d be happy to thicken the stain on his already filthy name! Go ahead! Kill me! After what I’ve seen, I welcome death.”


What will you do?
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Old 05-28-2009, 08:56 AM   #435
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The Comet Corner

Treepandaone: Every second of your story is unhindered by the voices of the spectators, or the slightest hint of movement from their bodies. They seem to hang upon your every word with a captivation you’d probably expect of a race so enthused by the art of story telling. Children, who had all shuffled to the front before your story was underway, sit, stand and lie with their mouths agape and their eyes alight, engrossed in your tale as though it were an epic fable, and mesmerised by the steady thump of your Rhyhorn as it exuded hypnotic qualities. Your song, which progresses with almost palpable lucidity, has truly achieved its purpose.

You conclude with the effective production of Lexi, who hops happily onto your shoulder and placidly surveys the surrounding crowd. A second’s silence ensues before your audience explode into applause and cheers, proffering standing ovations and all varieties of enthusiastic praise and appreciation. You stand still in the centre of the circle of applause and watch as every traveller zealously commends your compelling efforts. After a while, Doru emerges from the crowd, his arms above his head in applause as he approaches you at the centre, pulling you towards him in a one-armed hug as he encourages the crowd surrounding you.

“Fantastically done, Matthew!” He cries, seemingly enthralled by your song. Slowly, you then notice, the furore begins to subside. A few of the travellers begin to step aside as somebody move through the crowd. A few seconds later, Stela emerges, her Granbull close behind, and glides along the ground to approach you. Doru ceases his ignition of the crowd’s excitement and watches Stela with an enthusiastic smile as she slowly approaches you. Her mystic green eyes look you up and down, lingering on Lexi for a few minutes before she opens her mouth to speak. The crowd falls silent in an instance, and her whisper slowly ensues.

“Matthew, you have surpassed expectation considerably and defeated the traveller’s test with an aplomb that all prospective travellers should admire and respect. To mark your initiation amongst our ranks, I present to you these, our traveller’s beads,” she plucks from her heavily-embellished waist a string of seemingly useless trinkets, shells and stones of all varieties that shimmer in the dying light of the sun. Unable to reach your neck, she hands them to you with an outstretched arm. “Accompanying these beads is the admittance of a single wish. Your wish - depending on its prospective validity as decided by the Wish-Maker himself - shall be submitted in tonight’s great star-shower, and, should luck and destiny allow it, attain the fruition that has thus far eluded you.” The crowd sustains its silence as they look on with bated breath.

“Now, Matthew. What is your wish?”
Matthew peeked a glace while his story was told, beaming inside as he noticed the uncountable amount of faces hung onto the words he was portraying, with adults and children alike sitting and gaping in awe at the stories end, his head coining it as portrayed from his first adventure. Matthew began to get more engrossed in telling the story, the steady thump of Rhyhorn’s feet seemingly hypnotic amongst the ground, coupled with words of death-defying adventures.

Throwing his hand high into the sky at the end of the song, Matthew found the ball burst open and a figure begin to appear, Lexi, his lovable shinx protruding as a proof to the words he spoke among the story as the Shinx hopped onto his shoulder as he nuzzled his neck into her head as she purred gently, Matthew thanking her under his breath for her co-operation as he felt her look among the crowd. Standing there in silence, Matthew felt for a few brief moments as he heart seemingly stopped, time slowing in retrospect. As soon as the silence came, it suddenly disappeared again with the eruption of applause, the standing ovation warming Matthew’s heart as he breathed a deep sigh and wiped a bead of sweat from his head. Beaming happily, Matthew stood still in the centre of the circle as applause surrounded him, watching every traveller zealously commends his compelling efforts. Reaching down onto his belt once more, he withdrew the rock beast, leaving Lexi on his shoulder for comfort and applause as he spotted Doru emerge from the crowd, his arms above his head in applause. Feeling himself being pulled in tight from a one armed hug from the giant, Matthew chuckled, as the crowd surrounded him.

“Fantastically done, Matthew!”

Matthew thanked the man back for the opportunity as he saw the crowd disperse on a spot as a figure moved through the crowd. With the substandard moving, Matthew recognized it to be Stela accompanied by her Granbull, gliding gently toward him as he felt her mystic green eyes look him up and down, lingering on Lexi for a few minutes before opening her mouth to speak. Matthew heard the crowd go dead quiet as the woman spoke in a whisper.


“Matthew, you have surpassed expectation considerably and defeated the traveller’s test with an aplomb that all prospective travellers should admire and respect. To mark your initiation amongst our ranks, I present to you these, our traveller’s beads,”

Matthew looked on as the woman plucked a sting of old trinkets from her waist, placing them gently in his hand as he bowed in respect, putting the beads around his own neck in admiration,

“Accompanying these beads is the admittance of a single wish. Your wish - depending on its prospective validity as decided by the Wish-Maker himself - shall be submitted in tonight’s great star-shower, and, should luck and destiny allow it, attain the fruition that has thus far eluded you.”

As he felt the crowd go silent once more, Matthew looked around, pondering on his decision for his wish. Stroking the tuft on his chin, Matthew remembered the lore about the area and the myths that bought him to the place, beaming with his idea.

“Now, Matthew. What is your wish?”

“I wish to see a Mythical Pokmon .”
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Old 05-30-2009, 03:32 PM   #436
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The Rose Arch: Dark Mountain

Mewsic Box: Your bravery truly brims from the eyes of crimson that glare daggers into the possessed spirit of your enemy. Darkrai, the creature of nightmares, the twisted puppeteer in this godforsaken tangle of a scenario in which you’ve found yourself unwillingly thrust, now faces you head-on, shedding on you the light of responsibility that no average trainer could possibly retain the disposition to bear. Undaunted by its revelation, you swear by Niamh’s virtuous name that you shall rid the scourge from the body of innocence. Your vision is swathed in the crimson of your rage, and your every action spurred by the strength of your resolution.

Once more the power of your spectral companion tingles at your finger tips, and as you raise your arm, the girl finds her body pulled violently to the ground - stuck to the mountain side. “You’re a brave trainer, Tim.” Darkrai’s demonic voice speaks as she strains to push herself back to her feet, stumbling in the power of your efforts. Slowly, laboriously, her head lifts to gaze directly into your eyes. Her black hair quivers in the escalating breeze, and slowly a smile creeps along her unwholesome face as the wind intensifies around her. Gradually you feel the valour drain from your system as though stolen by the winds that whip at your face, and within seconds gust after gust crash relentlessly into your body, causing you to stagger ominously close to the edge. The wind seems to carry fear itself, bombarding your bravery with the powers of darkness that emanates from your demonic adversary.

“Frightened, Tim?” Darkrai inquires suggestively, delighted in your current state of anxiety. Its statement is substantial in provoking your fury, and with the familiar sensation of tingling frost moving through your right arm, you assume the poise through which your Ice Beam can successfully travel. The girl’s expression swiftly changes, and hoisting herself to her feet she raises her own arm.

“Do you struggle to learn?” Darkrai taunts, as the Night Shade bolts spark from the palm of her hand just as the mighty beam of ice is forced from your own, until once more you find yourself grappling with the magnitude of your conflicting might. You refuse to remit, and exert your efforts into assuaging the tendrils of darkness that burst from your enemy’s clawed hand, lapping the rock beneath it with the unpredictability of lightning. The intensity of her glare evokes assurance in the seeming strain of Darkrai’s resistance, and your confidence flows through to the power of your Ice Beam, edging it further into the consumption of your enemy’s Night Shade. Your crimson eyes affix themselves upon her determined glare, and your own fortitude seems to assuage the severity of the numbness prompted by the icy power surging through your arm. Yet the vitality that still animates you both in equal measures establishes the seeming futility of your conflicting efforts.

Darkrai then cries with the strain to which you’ve subjected it, and the girl’s body makes a lunge, breaking the war of energies and throwing your beam into the black rock behind her, forcing a large section to burst into fragments and establish an icy crater which shimmers in the moonlight. As you cease your failed attempt at an Ice Beam, the exertion forces you to stumble with fatigue, gasping for breath in the slight period of respite that Darkrai’s submission permits. You then hear its demonic bellow from beside you, and turn in suitable time to reflexively Punch the girl directly on her jaw, the ghostly power sending her reeling backwards in agony.

“How?!” Darkrai yells, before regaining its composure, shadow growing from the ground beneath it as though it were a source, “how is it you can harm me?” The girls icy eyes glare at you once again, and for a split second, as though it were a trick of the moonlight, you see their colour alter to a dark green before morphing to the icy blue that strikes such fear in your heart. She bellows again, her body surrounded by an aura of darkness, before charging at you again. If she collides, you’ll be knocked from the mountainside.

What will you do?
"Frightened Tim?" Darkrai asked as he cackled. Tim, being rather frustrated at this point, replied with a struggling voice, "N-No... way!" The young trainer tried to catch his breath as Darkrai continued to speak, "Do you struggle to learn?" Darkrai taunted as Tim stared at the nightmare pokemon, catching his breath. The battle pursude, with Tim's attacks being powerless against the speed of the Darkrai possessed granddaughter of Niamh. After being tossed around by Darkrai's attacks, Tim managed to draw in ice particles to his fist, creating an ice glove that surrounded the adolecents hand. When Darkrai lunged at Tim, ready to strike with another attack, Tim slammed his fist into the girls jaw, hurling the girl up in the sky. "How!?" Darkrai yelled, taken aback by Tim's attack. "I'll tell you how," Tim said as the ice melted off his fist, "It's because of this!" Tim shouted, pointing his thumb to his chest, right where the medallion layed. "Thanks to Niamh, my pokemon and I have the ability to fuse together." Tim stated as his confidence was replenished. "And I fully intend to do all I can to take you down." Tim concluded as he and Perona delegated inside the trainers soul. "Perona, I think we should use Bind so we can fire an Ice Beam at Darkrai at pointblank. Then we can use Shadow Sneak!" Tim stated as Perona determinly nodded in agreement.
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Old 05-31-2009, 05:00 AM   #437
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Thank you guys - sorry I didn't get these up last night like I said, I was still writing until 2am and that's when my internet cuts off. So, here they are!

Comet Corner

Treepandaone: In acknowledgement of your wish, Stela nods her head and smiles, the prominent wrinkles deepening around her mouth and her eyes. “A wish vivified by the mysticism of the night. An interesting decision, Matthew,” she comments, before gliding away with the elderly Granbull in tow. The crowd, still electrified by the performance and buzzing with enlivened conversation, slowly begin to disperse and the great carriages jolt back into motion as seats are taken to man them. Children begin to crowd around you, the latest grown-up of their unit, eyeing and cooing Lexi with curious admiration. Doru, still stood by your side, turns to you with an unyielding grin.

“Well, Matthew, we are all now progressing towards the hill in the distance. From there the shower is simply spectacular I can assure you. It is there that Stela can make contact with the wish-maker and eventually submit the wish you’ve just put forward,” the music has sprung once more from the vivacious crowd who steadily continue their path, moving past you with affable winks and respectful nods. Doru tugs you gently, and you both begin to follow, your new crowd of fans sticking close behind.

“Mr. Matthew, what’s a solrock?”

“Excuse me, why does your shinx have that flower on its head? Where did you get it from?”

“Do you have any more strong pets?” The odd request and inquiry rises from the small group of children that continue to babble on without constraint.

“You know what I want to wish for? A Rhyhorn!”

“I want to wish for an adventure!”

“I wished that I could meet a strong and worthy trainer.” The last comment originates from a voice substantially deeper than the others, and you promptly realise that joining your novel group of admirers is an adolescent perhaps a few years younger than yourself, a slight pubescent shadow around his jaw and a bandana tied firmly around his head. The intensity of his green eyes spark the image of Stela’s in your mind, and his somewhat majestic attire of silks and jewels seems emulative of the typical mystic. He holds out a hand as you continue forwards, possessing greater maturity than your other fans, but lacking no respect to compensate. His gaze conveys a glint of inspiration, as though he can see in you what Doru has recognised for the fleeting time in which you’ve been acquainted. “I-I’m Lucien. I enjoyed your story, it was compelling,” he stutters, confidence seemingly stifled by his respect, “I think that this year, my wish might materialise.” He nods with assurance before Doru grasps your attention by pulling you close with his arm, gesturing at a throng of three travellers, two women and a man.

“Want to know what I wished for, Matthew? What I’ve been wishing for, for as long as I can remember? Her,” he points at the woman in the of the trio. From where you stand, all you can discern of the woman is her flowing black hair and freckled cheek, and the green silk dress that ripples with her footsteps. The atmosphere is nearing twilight, though the mood is kept alight by the jovial music and continual conversation. “But it’s never happened. Her name is Carmen. Do I speak to her? All the time. At least, I try. I’ve tried and tried, but she is simply oblivious to it.” Doru says, with a dismayed sigh before pausing suddenly. “What’s that?” You realise what Doru refers to immediately. A faint rumble begins to intensify beneath your feet, and the grass seems to ripple with underground movement. “Stop the carriage!” Doru cries, holding out his arms to the proceedings behind you, establishing a division between the travellers in front and the travellers behind, between which the tremors are beginning to increase, and the ground begins to move.

“Somebody get Dragomir!” Lucien cries from beside you. The travellers ahead begin to whirl around to witness what is occurring, amongst them Carmen and her companions. Her shapely hazel eyes and delicate freckled face is now in clear view, and she looks across the gap at Doru, whose gaze affixes itself to the ground between them. Suddenly, the movement grows more rapid. The ground begins to convulse like a bubbling green lava, and soon clumps of grass become dislodged and roll haphazardly across the trembling ground. “We’ve disturbed their nest with our footsteps,” Lucien says, backing away from the steadily intensifying sight. The children scream and run backwards into the crowd of adults, and gradually the two divided groups back further and further away. “Look out!” Lucien cries, but you cannot react before you find yourself thrown from your feet and directly into the rumbling space. From the ground where you stood three heads burst, a trio of furry-headed creatures that look around at the gawping crowd before submerging themselves once again. As you struggle to your feet, you see more Dugtrio emerge at every angle, at least four trios emerging then submerging themselves around you as though observing their surroundings before preparing to attack.

“Matthew’s surrounded! Somebody, do something!” Doru cries, seemingly helpless to aid you himself. Then, as if from nowhere, a hulking figure with hands the size of tree-trunks leaps from amongst the crowd in a flash of light, and lands with a balance-throwing rumble to the ground beside you. It’s bulging legs ripple with its landing and the convulsion of the ground, and two squinting eyes glance at you swiftly, before it turns and hammers a fist down upon one of the trios, forcing it to submerge at breakneck speed. Your aid is a Hariyama, and as you look at the crowd, you see what appears to be its trainer emerge - a man in tight cloth and many bracelets, with thick and wild hair, who regards you momentarily before shouting orders to his hulking Hariyama. It seems that with the provocation of the Hariyama, the group of Dugtrio will not hesitate in lashing out. For your own safety, you’ll need to react swiftly.

What will you do?



The Rose Arch: Dark Mountain

Mewsic Box: The darkness that envelopes your enemy shrouds the lips that with rage part to unleash a bellow to shake your core. “So you are her weapon! You are the best that she could produce! You, a meek and credulous coward of a trainer, are the one that she had been waiting for! No! You are not of equal power to me! You cannot defeat that which thrives in the darkness you so hopelessly fear!” The darkness spirals from her like distorted lightning, lapping at the vicinity with a power unlike any you’ve yet witnessed. Your unified minds sustain composure, however, to a degree substantial in devising a course of action before the swelling darkness that now stifles your opponent reaches you. Darkrai’s bellow is unleashed once more, disembodied, echoing from the mountainside like the voice of a corrupted god. Momentarily, the icy blue eyes emerge from the darkness and her body draws ever closer. Widening your arms, you courageously brace yourself for the inevitable fall, not intending to plummet alone. Slowly, ghostly tendrils expand from your finger tips, a novel sensation of disembodiment prompted by the ghost that inhabits you, presenting you with the taste of spectral experience to which your companion is accustomed. The tendrils are like the strips that constitute the body of a Dusclops, long, ethereal appendages that curve inwards towards the Darkrai’s aura of pitch-black. Her body is but an inch away before her screaming face bursts from the darkness and tackles you with full force, just as your Bonds latch around her - Binding her to you as you are thrown from the mountainside.

The disrupted stillness of the atmosphere whistles past your ears as your crimson eyes gaze into those icy blue depths of Darkrai’s own. The face of Niamh’s granddaughter is swathed in black, but the glistening white teeth shimmer from the abyss of her visage as a disturbing smile stretches across her face. As you plummet through the air - a sensation to which you’ve become accustomed - your bonds tighten around her, in an attempt to inflict damage. Her eyes are averted as she grunts from the twinge, swiftly returning to glare ominously at you. Her arms are restricted, and she can achieve naught from such proximity unless she was to emulate your own tactics, and deliver an injurious blow directly. The returning smile suggests that this is exactly what she is thinking.

In a swift reaction, you deliver your own Ice Beam before she is given the chance to retaliate and, as calculated, it is this time a resounding success. The force from the beam that now fires directly into her stomach repels her from you, though the bonds extend to sustain your grip. The force propels you backwards - straight towards the mountainside. Now that you have neared the base of the mountain from your fall, you are thrown towards a sloping plain of rock and grass, the mountain’s peak now a few miles above the ground. Your Ice Beam fades, but with the physical exertion you cannot glean the energy in time to swerve before you collide with the ground. Your last sight is that of Niamh’s granddaughter speeding towards you from above, pulled by the force of your Bind with her arms outstretched and her mouth agape with rage. Then you black out.

“Please save me, Tim.” The voice is that of a young girl. The young girl - Niamh’s granddaughter. “You must draw it further to the mountain’s peak. The mountain is the key, it is the one place that my powers fade. If my powers fade, so does Darkrai’s. Only then can you wear it down, only then will the bond be…Ah!” Her voice is cut off, and you feel the sensation of grass between your fingertips leap from your consciousness. You feel your eyes part, and above you the dark mountain looms, black rock shimmering in the silvery moonlight.

“Get up.” It is Darkrai’s voice. You are not in control of your own actions and you find that you rise to your feet with seemingly little difficulty, and face the possessed girl standing a few metres further up the slope. She is no longer bound by your ghostly tendrils, but within you, you can still feel Perona residing. “You cannot win, Tim. In the end, you will die. Give up that amulet, and let the witch die - her life in exchange for your own. A fair deal. You’ve shown your uses, your worthiness. If you submit to me that necklace and the life of that old witch, I will give you power beyond all that you can imagine.” The same ominous smile stretches across her bruised and scratched face, her clawed hand outstretched suggestively.

“I will not die until it is done. This is my final promise to you.” The voice of Niamh, her final words, echo in your mind. It is as if she speaks to you still, from the depths of the forest into which you saw her plummet. You cannot move, restrained by the powers that Darkrai possesses within the body of Niamh’s granddaughter.

“What will it be?” Darkrai urges. As it speaks, a light that stems inexplicably from beside you both slowly seems to intensify. You begin to realise that the light gradually swathes the grass beneath you, the side of the girl’s face. Seemingly only recognising the materialising light herself, her expression changes suddenly - then she’s thrown from the ground by the collision of a speeding blur, a blur that came from nowhere and swiftly swerves back in and towards you. You squint in the intensity of the light, but recognise almost immediately the uniquely coloured body of Niamh’s Volbeat, who stops at your side with an affirming look in its eyes. His light produces a shadow from you, and with the sudden incapacitation of the girl, you find that you are once more in control of your limbs. The shadow sneak can now take effect, and you glare at your opponent before stretching your arm outwards, bending your shadow towards your enemy with a strange sensation flowing through your being. As it nears her, you need to devise your next course of action swiftly.

What will you do?
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Old 06-02-2009, 09:47 AM   #438
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Thank you for the swift reply, fishy! As I read it, I got the impression that I've caused a misunderstanding regarding the description of the tunnel. I worked around it in the update, but I also drew some pictures to better illustrate just how things look in there. They're crude, but I hope they help to show how things look...
Before update (Wraith is behind you in this pic, I couldn't fit him in)
After update. If my pictures confuse you then don't hesitate to PM me =).


Delibird Ridge: Sableye's Tunnel

Seakittenyfool: You sensibly conclude to keep from poking up the chute until you ascertain certain details from the unconscious body that had been thrown into your path. Luckily, the chute he’d been dropped down was of substantial width, you estimate, to accommodate Volcape - though the vicinity will become particularly cramped after releasing him. The light that slowly dissipates from above is enough to reveal that the horizontal tunnel in which you crawl continues for a while longer, allowing you to shift further so that Wraith can reach the body. Conscious of the forced immobility, you deduce that the only way to allow Wraith access to him while you still face him is if you wriggle your way past and turn while positioning yourself within the chute, then lowering yourself back down so that you face the unconscious body on the other side. From there, Volcape could be released up the chute, allowing his flame to illuminate the situation.

The light then disappears.

Calling your orders back to Wraith, you begin to blindly make your way towards the chute. You feel the body beneath you as you clamber your way on top of it, rising to your feet when you are sure that the ceiling has risen up the vertical tunnel. Then, turning yourself around, you skilfully employ your senses to lower yourself back into the tunnel so that you can reverse, still facing the body and, if your senses serve you appropriately, Wraith. As you struggle to shift your body into position, you grasp Volcape’s ball and prepare to release once you’re free of the chute. You manoeuvre yourself successfully, albeit sustaining a few scratches from the encasing rock, and you begin to feel the soft breath of the unconscious man on your face when you release Volcape with an immediately blinding flash.

As anticipated, Volcape materialises up the chute, and you swiftly relay the details of the situation to him so as to assure his wellbeing and cooperation. A minute lingers as your eyes gradually succumb to the intensity of the novel luminosity. Slowly, you begin to distinguish Wraith’s face looking directly at you from the other side of the body, and you also distinguish the face of the unconscious man himself. He seems particularly cramped, pressed up against the tunnel wall like a rag-doll stuffed haphazardly into a crammed toy box, with a lop-sided fatigue cap shielding his tightly-shut eyes that quiver with the sudden burst of light. A thick black moustache flecked with grey stifles his pouted lips and his breathing is laborious, his portly belly unsuitable for such positioning within a space so confined. Looking at him, you presume, from his khaki attire and numerous stains, that he is also inclined to adventure. Yet, judging from the actions that had preceded this presumption, he seems to have collided with a spot of trouble on his travels.

You signal for Wraith to carry out his orders, and he does so, squirting a soft Water Gun to the man’s face. With the combined light and cold jet of water, the reaction is almost immediate, and the unconscious man stirs with a slight grumble, struggling to alter his position at all in the confinement. The panic seems to set in, prompting consciousness to leap back, snapping his eyes wide open as he seemingly struggles to comprehend the looming figure of Volcape before grunting slightly and attempting to rise - only to smack his head rather injuriously on the enclosing rock. He winces and slaps a hand to the wounded area, ceasing his panicked movement in an attempt to subdue the pain. As he begins to settle down, keeping his hand on his head as he opens his eyes, he suddenly seems to recognise your presence.

“Gah!” His voice is gruff, and he twitches with fright as he notices Wraith staring directly at him. Turning to you, he repeats the motion, obivously bewildered and significantly panicked by the entire situation. It seems to take a few seconds for him to ascertain that he is now looking at another human, and he surveys your face before speaking in a voice that seems strained, perhaps worn down.

“What is this? What is going on? You…you’re another one of Reagan’s lackeys aren’t you? Is this it for me then? Is this where I finally die? I knew he’d resort to it sooner or later - the cur! I never thought he’d stoop as low as human victims but I’d be happy to thicken the stain on his already filthy name! Go ahead! Kill me! After what I’ve seen, I welcome death.”


What will you do?
Although the manoeuvring into the tunnel opposite was a little tricky, Jamie eventually got himself into a slightly comfier position on the opposite side of the tunnel before releasing the Infernape, his eyes twitching from the sudden burst of light. Peering at the man, he didn't recognise him, but knew it wasn't Ryan, thankfully. The man's getup was rather adventurous, however, and as Wraith gave him a little drenching, the man awoke, before banging his head off the rock to the wincing of the Marshtomp. After a minute or so, the man noticed the trainer before speaking out in a strained voice, one which was certainly panicked.

Listening to him, Jamie's eyes narrowed at the mere mention of Reagan as his mind went into conformation: If those men above were Reagan's lackeys, then surely it meant that the man had found the hunter's base, and things were looking up. Listening to the man's words, almost as though he wished to die, the boy merely shook his head. Ending a life wasn't his best option, especially an innocent, and as he looked around the cave, he took a small breath before communicating to the guy.

"Calm down, I'm not on the same boat as Reagan. I've a bone to pick with the guy, and headed into some tunnels searching for his base when I found this one here which led to this shaft. What happened up there that you found yourself in here? Can you walk, or otherwise find yourself able to head through this tunnel? I'm not here to hurt you, I'm here to stomp Reagan's enterprise into the ground. I've already got a ranger searching the tunnels as well, though my contact with him's been compromised, as some Sableye nicked my radio."

Waiting for the answer, Jamie pondered just how far the tunnel he was in went, and looked up at the covering, questioning just how flammable it was while waiting for the man to answer his queries.
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Old 06-02-2009, 08:14 PM   #439
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Thank you guys, these updates provided me with some much-desired periods of respite against the toil of revision =(. Thank you for being so understanding. This week is a half-term holiday. So, theoretically, updates should be more frequent during this time. In three weeks, the exams will be all over...

Shit.


The Rainbow Waterfalls

Pearl's Perap: “A compromise. Very rational, Zak, it is impressive,” Reynard says, patting you on the shoulder as he looks expectantly at his second associate. Sebastian remains silent for a few seconds, mulling over the implications of such a course of action before taking a deep breath and adjusting his aviators.

“Very well, Zak. Then you’ll battle from outside Keeley’s tent, if that is what you wish. At least we shall have your participation. While a battle is not certain, the possibility is dominant - so this is what we shall do, if these men retaliate. Zak, with your latest team member I’ll request that you take care of any avian threat, it is likely that they will attempt to raid the camp with small aerial creatures well-versed in theft and agility. Allow me and Reynard to handle the rest,” Sebastian instructs, before turning to leave the tent. Reynard swiftly tails him, slipping through the charred hole as Esmond, panting, pursues him.

With your intentions arranged, you also slip through the hole and welcome the refreshing cool air after having been encircled by the smoke of Esteban’s previous attack. “Over there, Zak,” Reynard says quietly, indicating the tent that stands at the end, the reinforced structure that you had correctly assumed to be Keeley’s current prison. You cooperatively move towards it, Alice bouncing on your shoulder with each step you take. Drawing closer, you can see that the very walls of the tent are made of particularly resilient fabric, seemingly able to withstand any kind of assault - such as the flame of a dragon. As you finally stand just a few inches from the steps that lead to its padlocked entrance, you turn to face the events that begin to unfurl.

Sebastian’s Blastoise obstructs the main body of the group, but you can see the apparent leader speaking rather heatedly with Sebastian, who stands with authoritative composure. The man wears a thick, grey, sleeveless jacket that sports a vast array of pockets containing, you presume, a number of various tools through which his exploits can be aided. You recall the referral to these men as mercenaries, and now that you survey his bedraggled visage, his blonde, spiked hair and unkempt goatee, the notion grows more and more believable. With but the odd distinguishable word reaching your ears as the mercenary’s voice begins to rise, you notice how Reynard, quietly stood at Sebastian’s side, slowly grasps his rifle with both hands.

Suddenly, the mercenary lifts a pistol and fires two shots point-blank into Sebastian’s stomach. Utterly stunned, you watch as Reynard deftly cocks his rifle and lodges a tranquiliser into the mercenary’s skull before Sebastian even hits the floor, and before the mercenary can turn his weapon onto Reynard. The scenario erupts to a worse extent than you could have conceived. With unwavering stalwartness, the Blastoise takes a step to shield Reynard from the swift bout of rifle fire that ensues, employing its practically impenetrable shell to deflect the bullets before graver damage is dealt. Esmond also wastes no time, and lunges into the fray fearlessly, tackling one of the mercenaries to the ground and tearing viciously at the face of the oppressor. Meanwhile, Reynard drops to the ground and begins dragging his motionless ally towards the tent you’d only moments ago evacuated.

Suddenly, a mercenary calls out, and points towards Esmond. A few begin to redirect their fire, but the Blastoise retaliates with crucial precision, drowning the crowd in a wave of resilient bubbles that seem to intercept the gunfire and knock a few men from their feet. One of them calls out again, and a few flashes suddenly burst from the commotion, releasing two more creatures that soar from the fray with nimbleness. As the two creatures begin to flutter towards the surrounding tents, you distinguish them both as the tiny Taillow species, apt for invading the smallest of crevices that lead to the tents’ interiors.

It is time for you to take action.
[Just thought I would mention, Alice has plenty more moves now and is Lv 8 :3]

With a plan of action set in his mind and the mind of the two very powerful men before him, Zak felt confident in his ability and that of his nearly captured pokmon. Despite her low level, she had quite a number of attacks, administered to her via technical machines and the like. Everything in order, the two men step outside, Reynard's Manectric hot on their heels, his mind set on a powerful defense, no doubt. Not wanting to waste any time, the boy dipped through the whole in the tent and into the cool air outside. On his shoulder, Alice chirped and repeated several of the ideas from previous conversations, getting them completely in her mindset also. Once outside, Reynard motioned towards the tent within which Keeley was being held. As expected, it was the reinforced tent Zak had noticed on his way into the rather regal camp. With speed in his step, the trainer began to move towards the location in question, the parrot bouncing upon his shoulder with each pace he took towards where the two were to guard.

"Okay, Alice. You've got to be ready for anything, heaven knows what could happen in the next few minutes." The boy whispered to the exotic bird upon his right shoulder, stroking at her chin with his hand as he uttered each word. Nodding confidently, repeating the word 'ready' several times to her trainer. Turning back to his aged comrades, the boy noticed that events were beginning to heat up. Before the two and their pokmon now stood several mercenaries and their apparent leader. As the leader and Sebastian appear to be exchanging rather harsh words, the Blastoise stands tall, obstructing the group from his trainer and Reynard. The man standing before his comrades appeared to be wearing a sleeveless jacket, equipped with a plethora of different pockets. Each one probably contained all manner of strange devices that could be used in the battle that seemed imminent to happen. With each foul word uttered between the two powerful figures, Zak noticed Reynard grasping his gun, as if ready to shoot. It was at this moment that everything changed.

Bang.

Bang.

One of the mercenarys standing before Sebastian and Reynard had lifted his pistol, firing two shots at a point-blank range directly into the stomach of Sebastian. Quick to act, though obviously in slight shock at the whole situation, Reynard fires one of his signature tranquiliser darts into the head of the same mercenary in the mere seconds before his friend had collapsed to the ground. With guns being fired in all directions following this, Sebastian's Blastoise tries his hardest to deflect each and every single bullet to protect both his trainer and Reynard once more. Noticing the hostile change, Esmond lunges forth into the firing line, battering into a mercenary before beginning to rip and tear at his face in a very horrific manner. Dropping to the ground, Reynard begins to drag Sebastian's motionless body back towards the burned tent, despite only leaving moments previously. Everything had taken a horrific turn and Zak was lost for words. The parrot upon his shoulder was silent for a change and neither had moved since the first bullet was fired. Even before them, as the mercenaries turned on the Manectric, firing shots directly at the canine. It wasn't the end, though, Sebastian's Blastoise had already began a defense for his pokmon ally, firing jets of bubbles at the guns, knocking a number of the men off of their feet. It was at this moment when Zak had to act, one of the mercenaries had noticed him.

With two quick red flashes, two avians appeared before the boy. He recognized the species in an instant, Taillow, as he had owned one several years previously before the pair parted ways. The swallow pokmon were perfectly capable of getting into tents with great ease. Paired with their sheer agility, they could be unstoppable. This was where Alice would have to intercept and stop her fellow birds, despite their significant advantage. "It's go time, girl. You need to stop those Taillow, who knows what they could do. Chill one of them with an Ice Beam and muster up a Thunder Bolt for the other one. Both energy expensive attacks, but they could aid in stopping them quickly and show them who's boss." The boy smiled, giving the parrot a thumbs up as she gulped nervously, flapping her tiny wings to elevate herself into the air above her trainer. Nodding, she turned her attention to the Taillow once more, ready to begin her elemental assault...
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Old 06-04-2009, 05:18 PM   #440
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Thank you guys - sorry I didn't get these up last night like I said, I was still writing until 2am and that's when my internet cuts off. So, here they are!

Comet Corner

Treepandaone: In acknowledgement of your wish, Stela nods her head and smiles, the prominent wrinkles deepening around her mouth and her eyes. “A wish vivified by the mysticism of the night. An interesting decision, Matthew,” she comments, before gliding away with the elderly Granbull in tow. The crowd, still electrified by the performance and buzzing with enlivened conversation, slowly begin to disperse and the great carriages jolt back into motion as seats are taken to man them. Children begin to crowd around you, the latest grown-up of their unit, eyeing and cooing Lexi with curious admiration. Doru, still stood by your side, turns to you with an unyielding grin.

“Well, Matthew, we are all now progressing towards the hill in the distance. From there the shower is simply spectacular I can assure you. It is there that Stela can make contact with the wish-maker and eventually submit the wish you’ve just put forward,” the music has sprung once more from the vivacious crowd who steadily continue their path, moving past you with affable winks and respectful nods. Doru tugs you gently, and you both begin to follow, your new crowd of fans sticking close behind.

“Mr. Matthew, what’s a solrock?”

“Excuse me, why does your shinx have that flower on its head? Where did you get it from?”

“Do you have any more strong pets?” The odd request and inquiry rises from the small group of children that continue to babble on without constraint.

“You know what I want to wish for? A Rhyhorn!”

“I want to wish for an adventure!”

“I wished that I could meet a strong and worthy trainer.” The last comment originates from a voice substantially deeper than the others, and you promptly realise that joining your novel group of admirers is an adolescent perhaps a few years younger than yourself, a slight pubescent shadow around his jaw and a bandana tied firmly around his head. The intensity of his green eyes spark the image of Stela’s in your mind, and his somewhat majestic attire of silks and jewels seems emulative of the typical mystic. He holds out a hand as you continue forwards, possessing greater maturity than your other fans, but lacking no respect to compensate. His gaze conveys a glint of inspiration, as though he can see in you what Doru has recognised for the fleeting time in which you’ve been acquainted. “I-I’m Lucien. I enjoyed your story, it was compelling,” he stutters, confidence seemingly stifled by his respect, “I think that this year, my wish might materialise.” He nods with assurance before Doru grasps your attention by pulling you close with his arm, gesturing at a throng of three travellers, two women and a man.

“Want to know what I wished for, Matthew? What I’ve been wishing for, for as long as I can remember? Her,” he points at the woman in the of the trio. From where you stand, all you can discern of the woman is her flowing black hair and freckled cheek, and the green silk dress that ripples with her footsteps. The atmosphere is nearing twilight, though the mood is kept alight by the jovial music and continual conversation. “But it’s never happened. Her name is Carmen. Do I speak to her? All the time. At least, I try. I’ve tried and tried, but she is simply oblivious to it.” Doru says, with a dismayed sigh before pausing suddenly. “What’s that?” You realise what Doru refers to immediately. A faint rumble begins to intensify beneath your feet, and the grass seems to ripple with underground movement. “Stop the carriage!” Doru cries, holding out his arms to the proceedings behind you, establishing a division between the travellers in front and the travellers behind, between which the tremors are beginning to increase, and the ground begins to move.

“Somebody get Dragomir!” Lucien cries from beside you. The travellers ahead begin to whirl around to witness what is occurring, amongst them Carmen and her companions. Her shapely hazel eyes and delicate freckled face is now in clear view, and she looks across the gap at Doru, whose gaze affixes itself to the ground between them. Suddenly, the movement grows more rapid. The ground begins to convulse like a bubbling green lava, and soon clumps of grass become dislodged and roll haphazardly across the trembling ground. “We’ve disturbed their nest with our footsteps,” Lucien says, backing away from the steadily intensifying sight. The children scream and run backwards into the crowd of adults, and gradually the two divided groups back further and further away. “Look out!” Lucien cries, but you cannot react before you find yourself thrown from your feet and directly into the rumbling space. From the ground where you stood three heads burst, a trio of furry-headed creatures that look around at the gawping crowd before submerging themselves once again. As you struggle to your feet, you see more Dugtrio emerge at every angle, at least four trios emerging then submerging themselves around you as though observing their surroundings before preparing to attack.

“Matthew’s surrounded! Somebody, do something!” Doru cries, seemingly helpless to aid you himself. Then, as if from nowhere, a hulking figure with hands the size of tree-trunks leaps from amongst the crowd in a flash of light, and lands with a balance-throwing rumble to the ground beside you. It’s bulging legs ripple with its landing and the convulsion of the ground, and two squinting eyes glance at you swiftly, before it turns and hammers a fist down upon one of the trios, forcing it to submerge at breakneck speed. Your aid is a Hariyama, and as you look at the crowd, you see what appears to be its trainer emerge - a man in tight cloth and many bracelets, with thick and wild hair, who regards you momentarily before shouting orders to his hulking Hariyama. It seems that with the provocation of the Hariyama, the group of Dugtrio will not hesitate in lashing out. For your own safety, you’ll need to react swiftly.

What will you do?
Amazing update Tale. Simply amazing.

Matthew smiled back at Stela, her accepting views and pleasantness amplified with the wrinkles on her face deepening.

“A wish vivified by the mysticism of the night. An interesting decision, Matthew,”

Matthew grinned gently, as the myths of Pokmon raining down in his head, swirling into a massive ball of hype and excitement as he felt the radiance of the audience surround him once more, forgetting completely of the massive crowd drawn on his very breath of a wish as he saw the elder leave with her granbull, the simple glide still fascinated. Looking around, Matthew saw the crowd disperse from the grounds, the carriages beginning to jolt back into motion. Matthew’s beamy face smiled as he found children gather around him, asking questions to the newest ‘grown-up’ to their troupe as they admired Lexi, the small electric cat purring with the attention. Matthew looked to his side as he saw Doru once more, an unyielding grin upon his face.

“Well, Matthew, we are all now progressing towards the hill in the distance. From there the shower is simply spectacular I can assure you. It is there that Stela can make contact with the wish-maker and eventually submit the wish you’ve just put forward,”

Matthew stuck his chin up to the air, trying to catch a preliminary glance at the spectacular views but with no luck, he mumbled hearty curses under his breath as he felt the music dance once more within his ears. As Doru tugged gently on his arm for him to follow, he felt the crowd of admiring fans follow as he past the adults of the troupe, respectful nods making his heart warm with acceptance.

“Mr. Matthew, what’s a solrock?”

Jumping a little, Matthew turned to found the Children asking questions as he turned his head and though about the answer.

“A Solrock is a powerful psychic Pokmon. They are apparently very faithful to the head of the group.”

“Excuse me, why does your shinx have that flower on its head? Where did you get it from?” More children began to ask, Matthew turning to face them.

“Why lexi here just loves accessories. We found it by a bar and she’s never taken it off since. Not that I would try to” Matthew laughed, stroking the cat’s neck as it purred gently, snuggling up to his hand.

“Do you have any more strong pets?” Matthew looked down at the child, the question startling him.

“Pokmon are not pets. Pokmon are your comrades, your team-mates and most importantly your friends. A Pokmon is as strong as you treat it, the more you love it, the stronger it becomes.”

“You know what I want to wish for? A Rhyhorn!” As Matthew finished answering one question he heard another, smiling down at the child.

“Well let’s hope the almighty Jirachi can issue your wish. Maybe yours can be friends with mine.”

“I want to wish for an adventure!” Another child asked. Matthew laughed, thinking back to the young age of the children, more than happy to answer any of the questions they had

“Well, an adventure is a risky opportunity, but if you get one, good luck to you. With compassion and a Pokmon, you can do anything.”

“I wished that I could meet a strong and worthy trainer.”

Matthew stopped suddenly, the commenter’s voice startling him slightly, the deeper voice of another person he had not been expecting. Matthew smiled towards him as he saw that he may only be a few years younger, a slight pubescent shadow around his jaw and a bandanna around his head. Matthew looked at the spark in the man’s eyes, the image portrayed glinting as he imagined the image of Stela, the man’s majestic attire of silks and jewels reiterating his point as a stereotypical mystic. Matthew looked down as he held out a hand, continuing forward with a stern look on his face, the man’s gaze seemingly auratic, inspiration flowing gently.

“I-I’m Lucien. I enjoyed your story, it was compelling,”

Matthew smiled, the young man’s speech stuttering with respect, Matthew issuing him to continue.

“I think that this year, my wish might materialise.”

Matthew smiled at the comments, nodding towards the man.

“Hi Lucien, I’m Matthew. I’ll try my best to make your wish a reality”

Matthew smiled as he felt the familiar tug at his arm, Doru’s welcoming grasp seemingly dragging him around the camp as he gestured towards a group of three travelers,

“Want to know what I wished for, Matthew? What I’ve been wishing for, for as long as I can remember? Her,”

Matthew looked towards Doru once more, stroking the tuft upon his chin as he complexed over the implementations, the man wishing against free will was not something he would condone. Looking back toward Doru’s gaze he saw a beautifull woman, her flowing black hair bristling in the wind and rippling green silk dress. As the atmosphere neared twilight, Matthew felt the evening alive with jovial music and continual conversation.

“Have you tried talking to her? I’m not sure even the great wish-maker himself could grant the power of free will.” Matthew looked at Doru, his question a little harsh but necessary.

“But it’s never happened. Her name is Carmen. Do I speak to her? All the time. At least, I try. I’ve tried and tried, but she is simply oblivious to it.”

Matthew opened his mouth to speak once more, the words on the tip of his tongue before he stopped suddenly, Doru raising a hand as he issued a problem.

“What’s that?”

As Matthew looked around, he suddenly felt the faint rumble of something; the grass seemed to ripple with underground movement.

“Stop the carriage!”

Matthew looked around, the travelers dividing as the ground rumbled once more, Matthew looked towards the ground as it did, frantically trying to find the source, the rumbling getting louder as it approached.

“Somebody get Dragomir!”

As the travelers began to whirl around to witness what was occurring, Matthew spotted Carmen and her companions in clear view, her shapely hazel eyes and delicate freckled face gazing to Doru who looks toward the ground. As Matthew thought for a second, he found the movement become more rapid, the ground convulsing as Matthew moved his head slightly.

“We’ve disturbed their nest with our footsteps,”

Matthew’s head snapped around once more, his attention turning back to Lucien, the young man backing off, as did the children. Matthew felt the rumble intensify once more.

“Look out!”

Matthew felt the strangest sensation overtake his body. He felt numb as it spread through his limbs like wildfire. His legs fell to its influence before his arms and torso succumbed to the numbness. Matthew panicked, looking around to see he was no longer standing on the ground. Matthew looked down to see three heads burst from the ground, a trio of furry-headed creatures residing in the spot he was standing moments before. Matthew struggled t his feet to see more Dugtrio emerge at every angle, the Pokmon looking to attack the young trainer.

“Matthew’s surrounded! Somebody, do something!”

As Matthew looked towards Doru he found himself in the company of a great hulking Pokmon, its hands the size of tree-trunks as Matthew gazed into its eyes. As the Harriyama punched down on the ground, Matthew saw a man in tight cloth and many bracelets, with thick and wild hair appear. Nodding at him, Matthew threw a Pokball from his belt, the ball breaking in two as it revealed a small weather pokmon, Castform. Matthew grinned at his Pokmon as it floated near his shoulder, ready for orders.

“Ok nimbus, time to shine. I want you to Sweet Scent Dugtrio so they surface, then sock them with a combination of an Ice Beam on one and an Energy Ball on the other.

With his orders done, Matthew looked back at the trainer.

“I appreciate the help stranger, the name’s Matthew.
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Old 06-21-2009, 02:11 AM   #441
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The Space Path - Please reply in gold

empoleon dynamite: "If you want to visit that kind of environment then we're looking at heading that way," Storm replies, nodding to the right, toward sectors seven through thirteen. "We'll upgrade your tracking device along the way. It's valid for sectors one through five, but it doesn't mean you can't travel further, just nobody will be able to find you if you get lost." He starts walking and so you follow, at first a little concerned by what's he's said about the device you're holding, but soon forgetting all about it as you travel along the path. The translucent walls soon turn invisible and it really does feel as though you're walking in space as you pass several large planets. Some look far more inviting than others, but the one that draws your attention is larger than the rest and appears from this distance to be made mostly of water.

"Looks can be deceiving from this distance," Storm says, nodding toward the planet. "There's a good deal of land down there, just doesn't look to be from here. If water is what you're looking for then this is the place to go, but there are some very strong Water Pokmon down there so you'd best be on your toes." He then looks further down the space path toward another planet that appears to be covered in forest and ocean judging from the vast amount of blue and green covering its surface. "Lots of wildlife down there, and plenty of water," he adds, giving you an alternative option. "Most of the planets have their own water source, which make them more pleasant to visit, it's mostly the terrain that differs. The further we go, the more... interesting are the planets. It's your adventure, lad. Are you looking for some easy training, or some tougher challenges?"



Memory Lane - Please reply in plum

ZoraJolteon: Wanting to determine whether or not Eevee is indeed possessed, your mind sifts through several possible methods through which you may be able to discover the truth. Immediately dismissing most of them, you finally dig a Ghost Ball out of your pack. Considering these Pokballs are specifically designed to increase the capture rate of Ghost Pokmon, then it's plausible to believe it'll be able to detect the presence of a spectral being. In theory, it may even be able to draw any ghost present out of the little pup long enough for you to be able to help it. Eevee meanwhile, has taken a couple of steps forward, growling ferociously and gnashing its jaws, saliva dripping onto the floorboards at its feet. Its soulless eyes seem to blacken further at the sight of the ball, the little pup stepping backward, its growl more menacing than before. A moment later, with a yell of, "GHOST BALL, GO!", you stand and watch as one of the strangest sights you've witnessed occurs right before your eyes.

The Ghost Ball connects with Eevee's paw as the little pup reaches up to knock it back, its capture mechanism triggering immediately. Considering this to be a good sign as it definitely indicates that something supernatural is going on, you're shocked when Eevee opens its mouth to howl only to end up hearing the screams of what sounds like dozens of beings trapped inside of it. A strong wind gushes through the hallway, slamming shut the front door of the house and leaving you in total darkness, when all of a sudden the hall is illuminated with a spectral glow as several apparitions fight against the pull of the Ghost Ball's capture beam. Strong winds gust around you, Rotom is whizzing around in circles as he's buffeted by the wind, Eevee's eyes open wide, an expression of pained shock appearing in its now brown eyes as the spectres scream in protest. Though Eevee cannot communicates, its eyes are pleading for your help, but just when it seems the Ghost Ball is about to pull the spectres from the pup's body, another larger, darker, human shaped form emerges to pull them back inside. The wind immediately dies down, the faint glow from the Ghost Ball the only light left in the hallway which illuminates the immediate vicinity just enough for you to see Eevee's eyes darken to a soulless black once again before it keels over and passes out, its breathing laboured as it lays on the cold floor.

Having no idea what has just taken place, you stand there for a minute wondering what to do when a small voice from the darkness startles you. "Is... Is he ok?" it asks. Looking up, you see the faint glow of candlelight coming from the top of the stairs where a small girl in standing on the landing, looking fearfully down at you...



Mystery Island - Please reply in mediumorchid

Shadowshocker: Knowing you're the only entertainment for a bored, mad, wizard who has supposedly been cooped up for many long centuries isn't exactly the most comforting of thoughts, but dwelling on the matter isn't going to do any of you much good. These Wurmple may not be real, but their attacks are, so the sooner you can rid yourself of them the better. Ephidel unleashes another Heat Wave, the combination of tiny embers and superheated air taking out a dozen more of the illusions and melting away most of the gooey substance binding him. Diamonhead, meanwhile, with a mighty roar, causes the floorboards beneath you to creak threateningly as he uses the Earth's Power to weaken them. They groan under the strain before several are finally torn away from the floor which causes a chain reaction that slowly, but surely, begins to destroy the room.

Half a dozen Wurmple are flung at the walls as the floorboards spring up, their splattered guts disappearing only moments later as they fade away into non-existence, and you find yourself having to move fast to avoid being hurt yourself as sections of floor crack and create holes through which you could quite easily fall. Froslass appears to be gaining some ground as several of the Wurmple attacking her are distracted by Ephidel and Diamonhead to turn their attention upon the more immediate threats. They are soon met by Ephidel's Dragon Pulse, however, which destroys them along with a few more. Froslass, recovering from the previous assault, takes out several more with a freezing gust of Blizzard. Ephidel readies himself to attack again, but not before the handful of remaining Wurmple launch themselves at him, stinging him over and over again with painful Bug Bites. He manages to fling them off with his Wing Attack, but they soon surround him, pinning his wings to his side with a massive amount of String Shot. He struggles to escape and stumbles back, not realising there is a gaping hole in the floor behind him, and before you can do anything to stop it he falls though, his eyes wide with shock and an alarming screech slicing the air as he falls through. Diamondhead, enraged and panic-stricken at having seen his friend disappear before his eyes, and not knowing his teammates' fate, bellows loudly before taking out the remaining Wurmple with swift, decisive slashes, his Metal Claw ripping right through them. Level up for Diamondhead.

The battle may be over, but the floor is still screaming its protest as it's destroyed around you. The Mage's maniacal cackle echoes throughout the room while you, Diamondhead, and Froslass try to avoid being hit by floorboards springing up around you or stepping on cracking floorboards through which you could fall at any given moment. The door behind you suddenly slams shut and you know immediately that there is no point in even trying to escape that way which leaves only two options. The window, or the gaping hole in the floor through which Ephidel had fallen only moments ago. While you're wondering what to do you hear Froslass' voice in your mind. "Can you trust me?" she asks, as a beautiful aura of pinkish coloured psychic energy begins to form around her...



The Fountain Garden - Please reply in deepskyblue

Rakurai: "Maybe we can help!" Totodile replies excitedly as his eyes, too, fall upon the spots of blood on the ground. "It'd be so cool to have an adventure together. We can fight the bad guys and save the person you're looking for, and have fun all at the same time!"

Kiba only seems to pale more at Totodile's response as he'd never in a million years expected it to want to come along with you, and right now it seems the only thing he has going for him is the fact Totodile's trainer can't understand a word of what's going on.

"We'll definitely love to take you up on your offer in a couple of days when we've had some time to get in a little one on one training, but at the moment we're in a bit of a hurry," Kiba replies. "I have an errand to run and don't have much time left to get it done, so as much as a battle appeals to us we're unforutnately going to have to take a raincheck."

"That's ok," the teen smiles in response. "We'll look forward to meeting up with you again. Good luck with your training!"

With a wave the boy motions for his Totodile to follow who looks rather disappointed at not being able to take part in an exciting sounding adventure. "Aww, can't we please go with them?" it begs as it follows its trainer toward one of the lakes, and you find yourself counting your blessings that the teen has no idea what it's Pokmon is saying.

"That was close," Kiba mutters, sighing with relief. "We are going to have to find some time to train, though," he adds. "This time we were lucky, but there may come a time when you'll have to battle, and we both need to know that you'll be able to do it. For now, let's follow this trail and hope we find the man responsible for this. The sooner we get to the bottom of this mystery and are changed back to our normal forms, the better."

An hour later, after having lost the blood trail and then picking it up several times, you find yourselves standing outside of a small caretakers hut on the outskirts of the Fountain Garden. "He can't have gotten too far with that kind of injury," Kiba frowns, staring at the door. "Are you sure the trail ends here?"

Nodding, as the sweet scent you've been following for the past hour has become quite familiar now, you look up at the door with confidence. There's nowhere else he could have gone as the blood trail has not only disappeared, but the scent is much stronger here. You know you'll have to be cautious though, for this man has already managed to perform some kind of strange magic upon the two of you, and bleeding or not, he's dangerous. Goodness knows what he'll do to you next, so caution is an absolute must.

"Alright," Kiba nods. "I''ll go in first."

Before you can do anything to stop him, he pushes the door open and disappears inside but you're quick to follow so that you don't miss a thing. Once inside you find the man wearing strange blue robes laying on his side on a small bed on the other side of the room. He's very pale, his breathing is laboured, and at first he's totally unaware of your presence. Kiba moves closer to examine him, and you can both hear him muttering. "Protected... you can't have it... evil.... destroy the world... ", when all of a sudden his eyes flit open and he sees Kiba standing there. The man immediately grabs a stick laying on the bed beside him and points it at Kiba, his eyes barely able to focus.

"You cannot succeed!" he yells feverishly. "We will not allow you to remove the stone!"

Kiba stops dead in his tracks, unwilling to take another step for fear this man will do something silly in his delirium. He looks down at you with a, "What will we do now?" expression, a question you're not entirely sure you have an answer for...
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Old 06-21-2009, 06:16 AM   #442
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Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
Mystery Island - Please reply in mediumorchid

Shadowshocker: Knowing you're the only entertainment for a bored, mad, wizard who has supposedly been cooped up for many long centuries isn't exactly the most comforting of thoughts, but dwelling on the matter isn't going to do any of you much good. These Wurmple may not be real, but their attacks are, so the sooner you can rid yourself of them the better. Ephidel unleashes another Heat Wave, the combination of tiny embers and superheated air taking out a dozen more of the illusions and melting away most of the gooey substance binding him. Diamonhead, meanwhile, with a mighty roar, causes the floorboards beneath you to creak threateningly as he uses the Earth's Power to weaken them. They groan under the strain before several are finally torn away from the floor which causes a chain reaction that slowly, but surely, begins to destroy the room.

Half a dozen Wurmple are flung at the walls as the floorboards spring up, their splattered guts disappearing only moments later as they fade away into non-existence, and you find yourself having to move fast to avoid being hurt yourself as sections of floor crack and create holes through which you could quite easily fall. Froslass appears to be gaining some ground as several of the Wurmple attacking her are distracted by Ephidel and Diamonhead to turn their attention upon the more immediate threats. They are soon met by Ephidel's Dragon Pulse, however, which destroys them along with a few more. Froslass, recovering from the previous assault, takes out several more with a freezing gust of Blizzard. Ephidel readies himself to attack again, but not before the handful of remaining Wurmple launch themselves at him, stinging him over and over again with painful Bug Bites. He manages to fling them off with his Wing Attack, but they soon surround him, pinning his wings to his side with a massive amount of String Shot. He struggles to escape and stumbles back, not realising there is a gaping hole in the floor behind him, and before you can do anything to stop it he falls though, his eyes wide with shock and an alarming screech slicing the air as he falls through. Diamondhead, enraged and panic-stricken at having seen his friend disappear before his eyes, and not knowing his teammates' fate, bellows loudly before taking out the remaining Wurmple with swift, decisive slashes, his Metal Claw ripping right through them. Level up for Diamondhead.

The battle may be over, but the floor is still screaming its protest as it's destroyed around you. The Mage's maniacal cackle echoes throughout the room while you, Diamondhead, and Froslass try to avoid being hit by floorboards springing up around you or stepping on cracking floorboards through which you could fall at any given moment. The door behind you suddenly slams shut and you know immediately that there is no point in even trying to escape that way which leaves only two options. The window, or the gaping hole in the floor through which Ephidel had fallen only moments ago. While you're wondering what to do you hear Froslass' voice in your mind. "Can you trust me?" she asks, as a beautiful aura of pinkish coloured psychic energy begins to form around her...


Gritting his teeth as he saw Ephidel go down, Shadow was almost beside himself with anger and worry in spite of his continued modus operandi of keeping a cool temperament. How could he have erred in his judgement so badly? In his restricted state Ephidel could not be expected to free himself for flight; if anyone was to save him it was up to Shadow himself, but the situation worsened with each passing second as lifelines were torn and cut. Every moment he spent hesitating put them in ever-increasing danger within the realms of the Mage. Right now he wanted little more but to go after Ephidel, but Froslass had other ideas, it seemed.

"Psychokinesis?" he thought, noting the hue that now surrounded the frigid spirit. Froslass was offering her assistance, and while he was heavily concerned for Ephidel's well-being, the rational portion of Shadow's brain realised that Froslass must have had her own reasons. There was no reason not to trust her, considering their common goal, and she would have more experience around the castle than he. If he lost his way in rashness it would do no good to them or their cause.

"...Alright, Froslass. I'm placing myself and my teammates, Ephidel especially, in your capable hands now," he breathed tersely. Hopefully Froslass knew what she was doing...
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Old 06-22-2009, 09:09 AM   #443
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Cloud Forest: A huge forest that surrounds the Rainbow Road, it's surprisingly always bright no matter what time of day it is. The forest acts as a home to most (if not all) Grass and Bug type pokemon and also several other forest dwelling types. Just try not to get lost
(Ooc: Hey Tale, hope this'll end up being something awesome. Sorry to say my intro is anything but. Thanks for having me. ;D)

“Well, this is sure a nice change,” Kelly said out loud, smiling pleasantly as she looked forward at the path ahead. Cloud Garden, the name itself sounded rather inviting. Though looks could be deceiving, more accurately in this case, names could be deceiving. All the same, even if things didn’t go completely as planned she had decided to herself she wouldn’t mind whatever happened. With each adventure, though she hadn’t really gone on many, she felt more confident.

Usually she would only bring one travelling companion at a time but this was an exception. A small blue bird hopped along accompanied by an over enthusiastic floating cloud. The former being a Swablu by the name of Cumulus and the latter a Castform nicknamed Jun. Both seemed rather happy to be in such an environment, the lush grass and light atmosphere was perfect for two curious young Pokemon. After having hatched on the same day, in the same circumstances it seemed only fair to keep the two together, complimenting each other’s personality almost perfectly with Cumulus being the calm, reasonable type and Jun a slightly devious thrill seeker, anything but modest. Well at least they kept each other out of trouble, mostly.

“Ok guys, I think we’re here,” the blonde announced taking a look at her surroundings. Now she was here, what exactly would she do? She hadn’t exactly thought about it in too much detail before coming. Up until now she would hear rumours of the area she would visit, that usually being the reason she would come to that particular area in the first place. However, this time it was different, a whim is what had brought her to the lush forest-area. She was sure they’d find something eventually. All there was to do was to keep trekking forward, the two energetic youngsters didn’t seem to mind in the least.


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Old 06-22-2009, 07:51 PM   #444
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Oh, hello Cloud Garden.

First things first: both an apology and a GINORMOUS thanks is in order for all my updatees. I know you know why I've been so frustratingly inactive, so I won't reiterate, but I will apologise one more time. And I owe you all thanks for being so patient - now, I do believe, the action will pick up once more. Your adventures have once again inspired me and I'm excited about every update. I'm looking forward to a compelling summer!

Hello to SP Eevee, who has joined with SW's departure. I'm really looking forward to your adventure, SP, and don't even think about worrying about the quality of your posts - the intro was perfect. I hope you'll enjoy everything I can throw at you.

Ok, now I'm back in updating, I want to reiterate that I am an extremely open updator and the slightest qualm or query I urge you to PM me with. If we can communicate in regards to the adventure, then it can only increase the quality, I reckon. Anyway, enough rambling, this is for updating not talking.


Delibird Ridge: Sableye's Tunnel

Seakittenyfool: Your diplomatic disposition seems to appease the stranger’s apparent need for civility, and it is with a look of relief, albeit pained, that he offers a hand to shake. “My name is Eustace, and it is due to such circumstances in which I’ve been so vigorously thrust that I am honoured to make your affable acquaintance. My story is not the most enlightening, I warn you - simply due to the fact that for half of it I have been unconscious. Reagan is a scourge, a no-good, money-hoarding beast who needs subduing, needs putting down. I consider myself a hunter, though I am far from Reagan’s league of hunting - poacher. I pride myself on every kill being one to aid the course of nature - typical culling, preservation of a weaker species, that sort of thing. I do not hunt for sport, mind, I have my morals, unlike that fiend. I first encountered the mindless murderer when he took my mark, a vicious Skarmory whose terror upon a Chatot couple threatened the success of a mating ritual. I allowed him the kill, I’m a decent gentleman - but he then proceeded to kill both Chatot. I was having none of it, and immediately confronted him - only to have the barrel of his gun turned on my face. I was saved only by the interception of a couple of rangers - one of which, the male, went off to pursue the scoundrel while the woman remained to interview me on the ghastly occurrence.

“They told me that they would handle Reagan and that I’d be safer to leave it to them. Pah! A pair of Rangers only have so many opportunities, I roam these cliffs like a seasoned predator, I can track, I can trap and most importantly, I can kill in a second. I knew I’d stand a better chance against the…the…the rotten, low-down…scum!” His face reddens as he talks, and he pauses to regain composure, before continuing his rather long-winded story, “Anyway. I’ve been hunting Reagan since then, and managed to pinpoint his tracks to a location, somewhere he’d been frequently returning to. So, I’d set up camp at a safe distance and begun to wait it out, as I do best, until the right opportunity arose. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the distant crack of a rifle filled my acute ears, and I leapt from my seat, donned my best rifle and sped off in hot pursuit of the sounds. Moments later, there I stood, witness to the carnage he had left - two dead Swellow and the residue of where a nest had once laid. It was just where I had pinpointed him, and sure enough, a figure caught my eye - entering a nearby cave. I’d not the time to ascertain that it was him, so I ran towards the cave, rifle cocked, victory swelling in my heart! The cave was pitch-black, but a glow from deep inside assured me of his presence. I fired! With all the passion gleaned in my heart I fired at the cad! Two shots. Then do you know what he did? He called out to me, calling me Reagan. Well, I assumed in the heat of the moment that he was either playing a devious trick on me, or it was a cohort of his, and therefore equally deserving of a good wound to teach him a lesson. But alas my shot was not as focussed, and the enemy was too quick - paralysed me he did! Some electric tendril shot up the tunnel and before I knew it, down I went and my head had cracked on the floor. Then, I blacked out.” You wonder whether this is the end of his story, the enclosing walls of the tunnel proving progressively more uncomfortable the more you sustain the single position. Eustace, however, appears to be lying quite comfortably, as though he were reclined in a spongy armchair and relaying tales of his hunting exploits to a crowd of eager children. You are about to respond, but he continues,

“When I awoke, I found myself in a cave - a small, dingy cave with a campfire composed of twigs and paper, and staring at me was the man himself - that cur Reagan! He told me how he almost had reason to thank me, and then attempted some smooth talk with faux compliments oozing deviousness. Well, I found myself tied up so all I could do was spit at him - which I did. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t receive that well and before long I found myself face-down on the cold cave floor. Hah! Were those knots a fraction looser I would have shown him a piece of my mind, gun or no gun! The things he was telling me, the superiority complex that controlled him, it was like talking to an evil mastermind - though the most his limited thought processes could ascertain would no doubt be how to best kill ten Pidgey with one bullet. Well, things got a little out of hand - I was having none of it, you see - and before long, I was beaten to a pulp by his lackeys, until I was unconscious once again, and awoke to your Marshtomp staring me in the face. Not the best of days, I can tell you.

“Anyway, enough of how this all occurred, what we need to ascertain, if you truly are as opposed to Reagan as you say you are, is how we proceed in bringing the fiend down! That place above your…er…your…monkey friend, is where he is right now, I can feel it in my bones!” Eustace fidgets, seemingly eager to proceed with the hastiness he’s displayed in vast quantities thus far. However, possessing a far more rational mind, you are unsure as to whether bursting in there with figurative guns blazing would prove the better course of action. Alternatively, you could continue to proceed along the tunnel and attempt to find another place of infiltration - should it exist at all.

What will you do?



The Rainbow Waterfalls: Reynard's Camp

Pearl's Perap: You leap into action with stalwart bravery, truth shining with the verification of your promise to defend the camp. Ahead the swift Taillow weave between one another with unmatched agility, seemingly surveying the enclosing tents as they dart in your direction, shrill chirps gradually intensifying over the gunfire. As Alice comprehends your orders, launching herself from your shoulders in preparation to attack, a flash in the distance snatches your focus - a giant, familiar dragon soars from within the tent that Reynard and Sebastian are now submerged, a gleaming, fearsome Salamence whose great wings beat furiously at the air and seems to weave almost effortlessly between the responsive barrage of bullets that ensue. The three avian brawlers remain undeterred, however, and Alice achieves with aplomb the formation of an Ice Beam which strikes with effective precision one of the Taillow - effortlessly felling the bird without a moment’s retaliation, plucked from the air with a shocked chirp of pain. With but a single enemy to contend with, Alice wastes no time in dispatching the second bird, whose last-ditch attempt at a Growl is followed with a desperate revaluation of its course as it attempts to veer, as intended, into the nearest tent. These two birds, it would seem, were good only for the thievery to which they were suited as opposed to battle, as the tendrils of electricity that shoot from the cooled beak of your talkative parrot lap at the Taillow’s rear before bringing it down in a cloud of feathers, and remitting to the assuring sound of a pained squawk.

With the low-levelled threats effortlessly dispatched, you are free to return your sights to the perpetual escalation of chaos that ensues in the distance. Esmond, howling incessantly as he tackles mercenary after mercenary to the ground beneath the Blastoise’s shield of bubbles, seems to fearlessly snatch life with a daunting ferocity to which you’ve yet to be fully accustomed. Meanwhile the Salamence seems to work only in drawing the mercenaries’ fire, roaring with blood-chilling fierceness as it encircles the camp from above. Alice swerves back to your shoulder, content with her success and barely drained by the minimal effort. Enraptured so terribly by the horrific scene before you, you are somewhat unresponsive to what you are certain is a sound from behind you. The enveloping chaos limits your reaction as you eventually register the implications of such a sound - though, the futility of a response is somewhat verified within the ensuing few seconds.

You cannot react in time before a force from behind propels you forwards and causes a graceless landing upon the open patch of grass between you and the brawl ahead. Glancing up through wincing eyes, you watch Alice frantically attempt a secure landing on the ground before you, as a familiar Dragonite soars directly overhead, shooting unswervingly towards the Salamence whose course swiftly assumes evasive precautions. The suddenness of the situation restricts your ability to comprehend the occurrence, but the voice you hear from behind you verifies it entirely.

“Zak…what are you doing here?” It’s Keeley, who has seemingly managed to escape her captivity within the tent. Ahead the mercenaries are now immersed in confusion, guns blazing in all directions, including your own. Esmond is tiring from his efforts and the bubbles supplied by the Blastoise are slowly thinning in magnitude. Those who still fire skywards are now urged by the increased likelihood of a successful hit - and all the while Keeley’s Dragonite doggedly pursues the unprepared Salemence, firing beam after beam towards its adversary. Reynard is yet to emerge from the charred hole of the tent into which he’d dragged the limp body of Sebastian, and faintly, you can hear Keeley’s rapid footsteps approach.

What will you do?



Comet Corner

Treepandaone: Brilliantly conceived, your plan is undertaken without the second’s respite, a startled Nimbus lunging almost reflexively into action with a rapid spinning motion that wafts a soothing scent into the atmosphere, its slow pervasion aiding in not only drawing the tunnelling terrors from their earthy hideaways, but appeasing your own burning muscles, and those of your bulky guardian. Within seconds, the surrounding crowd condensing yet maintaining a safe distance all the while, the Dugtrio are seemingly all tempted from the earth by the saccharine external atmosphere and form an asymmetrical ring around you - numbering, you swiftly calculate, five Dugtrio in total. The Hariyama’s trainer glances at you as you thank him for the aid, merely nods, and returns his concentration fully on his ally.

“Deal with the other three. Force Palm two, Cross chop the other.” His voice is deep, determined and stark, ridding from what seemingly nonexistent communication that may exist between you of all potential warmth or acknowledgement. The Dugtrio, each head of each trio swivelling to survey their foolhardy haste, apparently seem prepared to attack - and with the results of their combined might not being the most promising of prospects, you turn to Nimbus, whose second manoeuvre is already underway, as his head seems to shimmer with an icy coating.

“Dragomir, let us aid you!” You distinguish the voice of a man, scrambling his way through the crowd behind your temporary ally, but his words are met with the steely gaze of the wild-haired man, who hisses quite vehemently to the indiscernible character hidden within the crowd of anxious onlookers,

“Stay back! Any further intervention will cause only more chaos!” His words fall with substantial weight, be it due to their intensity or the superiority of their wielder, and the do-gooder is silenced without the smallest of protests.

Your attention is readjusted as a thin beam of shimmering ice is propelled from your Castform, with such precision that forces its victim to quiver in agony before submerging within an instant, leaving but four surfaced Dugtrio to contend with. The Hariyama, with unanticipated grace, swiftly follows suit and twirls into a double Force Palm that knocks two of the trios back into the ground with painful vigour. The skilful stunt and powerful start leaves two of the trios exposed, one each side of the three of you, still separating you from each divided crowd.

The crowd’s concerned murmurs escalate to anxious cries and supportive cheers, and Doru, his frantic gaze flitting from you to Dragomir and from him to the Dugtrio, seems to edge ever closer to the fray, almost involuntarily so. Nimbus, meanwhile, swivels to concentrate on the Dugtrio to your left, as the Hariyama imitates the motion to the creature on its right. However, the time spent on residual foes left substantial preparation periods for the two remaining trios, and while the Dugtrio on the left seem to spin in opposing rotary motions, like a motor that sends a wave of mud directly into the face of Nimbus, the Dugtrio on the right assaults the Hariyama with a similar yet more intense manoeuvre, accumulating the grassy mud into a firm ball before catapulting the mud-bomb into the bulky creature’s direction with a similar spinning motion. The mud attacks strike with success, and succeed in flecking you with residual soil as Nimbus is caked by the wave, and Hariyama knocked back by the force of the ball’s impact.

Wiping the mud from your eyes, you catch a glimpse of Hariyama’s deft somersault with a finishing Cross Chop that forces the Dugtrio back into the earth, before witnessing Nimbus’s attempt at accumulating a ball of grassy energy, fuelled by the verdant terrain, and firing the football-sized sphere towards the only remaining Dugtrio. With the futility of his frantic attempts to clear his eyes of the mud, Nimbus’s reduced accuracy causes the ball to veer slightly from its course, and though it strikes true with damaging effect, it barely deals a full potential’s damage, striking the smallest of Dugtrio heads with barely enough precision. Nonetheless, the strike is substantial in repelling the beast, and it submerges with its ally as it attempts to shake the effective damage from its system.

Though the battlefield is clear for now, the tremors beneath your feet foreshadow an imminent retaliation. The underground advantage leaves you clueless as to how many Dugtrio will emerge, and in what position. The clever choice of ally leaves Nimbus impervious to any ground-related assaults that would otherwise leave the hefty Hariyama reeling - though this does not help your own situation.

“Dexter, prepare a Fake Out for the first mole to reveal itself. Follow with a Detect and a Bullet Punch accordingly on any other beast that emerges.” Dragomir speaks, rooted to his spot a few feet ahead of the main bulk of the crowd. Dexter the Hariyama slaps his bulbous legs with a resounding force in preparation for the attack that will immediately cover you should anything emerge. If the current state of affairs were to be paused, you currently stand, a partially-blind Castform to your left facing Dragomir, Doru and the rest of the crowd behind him, and a bracing Hariyama to your right who faces the crowd containing Carmen, while you yourself stand practically isolated in the centre of the makeshift arena of grass. You are aware that there is a mere few seconds before the five Dugtrio begin to emerge again, be it periodically or all at once, and you must react swiftly and accordingly.

What will you do?



Cloud Forest

SP-Eevee: With an indifference that instantly warrants the title of the intrepid explorer, it is with the philosophy of a steady, unswerving progression that you conclude to enter the Cloud Forest with enthusiastic partners in tow. Though rarely approached with naught but the intention for hunting and capturing the inhabitants, your visit to the mystical forest is unadorned by cumbersome goals or intentions, but alternatively driven by the whims that such a location so effortlessly inspires. With but a few second’s progression amongst the trees, you behold with wonderment the vivacity of the scenery, the rich sponginess of the verdant sheet beneath your feet and the multitude of spores which hang thick in the air like a smog. The tree trunks seem enlivened in their twisted forms, winding and spiralled roots snaking along the mossy earth almost possessively, as though snatching every inch of earth possible from your footstep’s claims upon it. Though the vivid canopies are thick, the shafts of light that pierce the leaves are dazzling, and make the forest sparkle. And though it seems to be the essence of life, your every surrounding is pervaded by utter silence - save for the suspicious susurrus of the trees. Every move you make seems scrutinised, as though something concealed within the innumerable intricacies of the beautiful forest watches you with a cautionary eye.

For as far as you can see, the forest appears uninhabited. For as far as you have walked, you’ve stumbled upon flora so exotic, and fauna so untamed, but you’ve yet to stumble upon a frightened bug, a startled rodent or defensive predator. After a good couple of thousand yards, your mind wanders into dubiousness regarding the rumours that surround this forest. Before long, before it is too late, even the thought of returning to its entrance fleetingly passes your mind. However, as if the forest has ensnared your every sense, you cannot quite yet depart - but alternatively, in order to respite and perhaps observe the scenery, you sit upon a nearby log - a log so swathed in thick moss, that it accepts your weight like a thick and homely mattress. Your companions, immersed in their element, partake in a small bit of exploration as you ponder the purpose of this fine day’s visit. Before long, your thoughts stray and the gently hypnotic oscillation of the branch that overhangs the log upon which you are so comfortably sat begins to seep into your every thought. The light sifts between its vibrant leaves like the glitter of stars in a sky of green.

Suddenly, your attention is snatched and at your feet stands Cumulus, who gazes up at you with a discovery clutched firmly in his little beak. It is a book, seemingly unsullied by nature, with a cover of silk embroidered with intricate patterns that seem endless. On closer inspection, you see a few words scrawled in green across the cream backdrop of the cover,

‘Read when wet.’

How an object of such distinctly unnatural origins has emerged in such a location without the slightest indication of life preceding its discovery is perplexing to say the least. Not to mention the peculiar message with which it is seemingly entitled.

What will you do?

Last edited by Tale; 06-23-2009 at 02:55 AM.
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Old 06-22-2009, 09:33 PM   #445
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Mystery Island: A mysterious floating island nestled among the clouds. There is no way to access it by foot so if you don’t have any flying pokemon you will have to find an alternative route to get there as no guides from the Sky Gate area will go near it.
[/size]
OOC: If I read the rules right, I think that I get a chance to go to 1 UPN arena and 2 SPPF... so I choose here! anyway, I hope that i didn't mess anything up... anyway, here's my profile

David Michael took a deep breath. He didn't know what that strange place was up in the clouds, but compared to his other adventures, he was starting to feel that it was safer to perhaps not return to a forest for a while. However, he stared up into those majestic clouds, and wondered just how to get up there. He noticed that there was nothing in sight that would enable him to travel to that place easily, and he still was unsure that Dart could get him all the way to the top of that place. However, he simply turns around, opening a pokeball in a flash of light.

"Staraviaa!"

Turning to Dart, David Michael simply grins for a second before he begins to talk to his starter.

"Heh, good to see you Dart- but at any rate I need your help. I don't want to use up your energy by Flying me up to that island, but you may have to, so this is what i want you to do. I want you to take a look-around, see if you can find anyone that can tell us of a different route. Otherwise, come back here, ready to fly up there."

As Dart flies off, David Michael begins to do some jumping jacks, Situps, whatever it would take to lessen the weight strain on Dart if he had to pull him up to the mysterious island in the sky...
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Old 06-23-2009, 04:00 AM   #446
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Welcome to the group, Firewater - I am very pleased you leapt at the opportunity, as I now seem to have the majority of Arcane Realm adventurers safely in a UPN Zone. You're right about the rules so no need to worry, and thank you for the link to your profile. If that same link is in your signature, feel free to post with your signature so I can always just click there if I want to look up a trait or two.

I'm not strict or anything, so feel free to be as free as you want to be. If you wanna opt out of an adventure in favour of another location, go ahead and do so, or if there's something you want to let me know or ask me then please go ahead and PM me! I hope you enjoy what I can offer you in the Mystery Island!


Mystery Island: The Underbelly

Firewater: Rooted to earth upon which you’ve thus far adventured, you stand perplexed at the suitable means by which to reach what you discern from below to be an island, separated from the bulk of the Cloud Garden, whose vast shadow swathes the sky with white. Rumours of the mysteries that pervade it have reached your ears, though it is with a steadfast sense of true adventurer’s determination that you attempt to ascertain the route to take.

The cloud-shadowed plains that stretch for miles all around seem desolate. Predictably, those who venture this far would inevitably take an immediate preference for the Cloud Garden, and so it would seem that its countless mysteries and abundant delights have tempted all but the most mundane of travellers into its magical midst. Nonetheless, you release Dart, and relay to him a clear set of instructions that should eventually expose to you a more energy-conserving path as opposed to the otherwise imperative use of Dart’s avian strength to lift you the entire way. In his absence, you exercise for some flash weight-loss should such eventualities occur, and partake in an adlibbed workout regime that works to heighten your own energy levels and preparation for adventure.

The exercise continues for much longer than you’d anticipated, and before long, you remit due to exhaustion, and merely wait out Dart’s return. Almost an hour passes before his familiar form can be seen in the sky - tailed by a bird much larger than he, boasting a dauntingly impressive wingspan. You prepare for contact as they swiftly cover the space between you, and before long you are walking to meet Dart’s discovered aid, acknowledging his achievement on the way.

The person that Dart had brought was an elder. A woman with a flowery dress and fastened hat which secures the curly locks of silver hair that frame her wrinkled, kindly face. She approaches you gracefully, seemingly pleased by Dart’s previously indecipherable intention.

“Can I help you, young man?” She asks as the gap between you is closed, leaving her Fearow to preen its wings behind her. You tell the old woman of your current dilemma, and your story is received with somewhat disheartened intrigue. She ponders your request for her knowledge for a few seconds before her reply is made, carefully worded as though reluctant to allow you the opportunity to travel to Mystery Island. “Well,” she begins, twisting her mouth as though unwilling to continue, “I’ve lived in Sky Gate for all of my life, and never had I suspected that the Mystery Island - about which we’ve heard such terrible rumours - possessed a route to reach it, until I’d ventured to the ground one day on my own little exploration. Beneath the Garden, as you can see, there is little to behold, but I stumbled upon a man. Now, he’s not the most…typical of men, but he told me stories of the island that I daren’t pursue. His stories drove me back to my house, where I remained for the rest of the day - put off entirely by the thought of adventure.

“I would by no means recommend it, young man. What I would suggest is that you come with me, have a cup of tea and peruse the more…pleasant wonders of Sky Gate, and leave the Mystery Island to those mad enough to explore it.” Her tone is somewhat patronising, but then her expression drops, “But, if you really want to see for yourself…the fellow is a distance to the west - in that direction,” she points behind her, towards the grounds that Mystery Island overshadows, “He lives there in a hut, almost directly beneath the island. If you really want to reach the island without your use of a flyer like your fine Staravia, then may I suggest speaking with him first. But, like I said, I’d much rather you come with me.” She ends, at least, on an affable smile. She is a kindly old lady, abiding by the typical stereotype to which your more innocent thoughts are accustomed. Yet, her suggestion seems to divert quite substantially from the potential excitement of the Mystery Island - whether the prospected danger proves repellent or not, is up to you.

What will you do?
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Old 06-23-2009, 12:10 PM   #447
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Cloud Forest
SP-Eevee: With an indifference that instantly warrants the title of the intrepid explorer, it is with the philosophy of a steady, unswerving progression that you conclude to enter the Cloud Forest with enthusiastic partners in tow. Though rarely approached with naught but the intention for hunting and capturing the inhabitants, your visit to the mystical forest is unadorned by cumbersome goals or intentions, but alternatively driven by the whims that such a location so effortlessly inspires. With but a few second’s progression amongst the trees, you behold with wonderment the vivacity of the scenery, the rich sponginess of the verdant sheet beneath your feet and the multitude of spores which hang thick in the air like a smog. The tree trunks seem enlivened in their twisted forms, winding and spiralled roots snaking along the mossy earth almost possessively, as though snatching every inch of earth possible from your footstep’s claims upon it. Though the vivid canopies are thick, the shafts of light that pierce the leaves are dazzling, and make the forest sparkle. And though it seems to be the essence of life, your every surrounding is pervaded by utter silence - save for the suspicious susurrus of the trees. Every move you make seems scrutinised, as though something concealed within the innumerable intricacies of the beautiful forest watches you with a cautionary eye.

For as far as you can see, the forest appears uninhabited. For as far as you have walked, you’ve stumbled upon flora so exotic, and fauna so untamed, but you’ve yet to stumble upon a frightened bug, a startled rodent or defensive predator. After a good couple of thousand yards, your mind wanders into dubiousness regarding the rumours that surround this forest. Before long, before it is too late, even the thought of returning to its entrance fleetingly passes your mind. However, as if the forest has ensnared your every sense, you cannot quite yet depart - but alternatively, in order to respite and perhaps observe the scenery, you sit upon a nearby log - a log so swathed in thick moss, that it accepts your weight like a thick and homely mattress. Your companions, immersed in their element, partake in a small bit of exploration as you ponder the purpose of this fine day’s visit. Before long, your thoughts stray and the gently hypnotic oscillation of the branch that overhangs the log upon which you are so comfortably sat begins to seep into your every thought. The light sifts between its vibrant leaves like the glitter of stars in a sky of green.

Suddenly, your attention is snatched and at your feet stands Cumulus, who gazes up at you with a discovery clutched firmly in his little beak. It is a book, seemingly unsullied by nature, with a cover of silk embroidered with intricate patterns that seem endless. On closer inspection, you see a few words scrawled in green across the cream backdrop of the cover,

‘Read when wet.’

How an object of such distinctly unnatural origins has emerged in such a location without the slightest indication of life preceding its discovery is perplexing to say the least. Not to mention the peculiar message with which it is seemingly entitled.

What will you do?


(Ooc: Ah, sorry, should have kept my signature on, since Cumulus is female. ;O )

Taking a deep sigh and resting on a nearby log Kelly gazed forward at the sun's attempts to shine through the trees, this in itself created quite a spectacular sight and shade. Though she was taken from her train of thought as soon as her small Swablu looked upwords, attempting to garner her attention. Looking down the blonde noticed what her Pokemon had been carrying, a small book in almost mint condition, the cover home to many weaving patterns and a silk cover, it seemed really out of place to say the least. Taking it from the small birds beak and thanking her for her find she leaned down nearer to small Swablu's level who leaned forward, curious herself to the contents of such a strange book.

"Read when wet?" Kelly murmered, scanning the book carefully. It wasn't every day you found a book in the middle of nowhere, even moreso a book with such a strange request printed on it's page. To add to that it seemed perfectly intact. Would it be wise to just wet the book as the writter clearly wanted the finder to? The anwser of course, in Kelly's mind, was yes. What would be the point of leaving such a strange thing without investigating it properly? From a glance it didn't seem to have anything else written in it. Now came the problem, looking around quickly it was easy to tell that there was no real source of water that would be enough to wet the book in the middle of the forest. Then an idea came to her, though it would require the assistance of a certain floating cloud who, at this point, seemed to have gone awol.

Cumulus, almost on instinct detecting the need for her comrade's assistance let out an assertive chirping noise. Seconds later the small cloud-like Pokemon zoomed back in, a mischevous grin spread across his face. "Jun, it looks like i'll need your help for something," she indicated to the book, holding it up for the cloud to see, though she doubted he could understand any of it. Though he seemed to understand that it was certainly out of the ordinary. He cocked his head to the side as best one can without a neck, indicating his curiosity accompanied by a short, "Ca-?".

"Well, it says that it must be read while wet. So that's where I need your help." The Castform nodded confidently, ready to get started before quickly realising he had no idea what he was to do. Cumulus rolled her eyes at her partner's impatience but all the same Kelly continued, "If I can dig a small hole of some kind... or maybe even find something that can hold some water, all you'd need to do is use your Water Gun, a light one though. Then we could wet the book and see if it works." The concept of reading soon sunk into the Pokemon's mind, he wanted adventure, not to take part in some book club. All the same, Kelly went in search of something that could hold the water. She knew ordering Jun to Water Gun directly onto the book would not end well, especially since it'd probably ruin it but perhaps dipping it in some water would work. Well, it'd be worth a try, it would be safer this way, for the book that is.

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Claus; () lvl 100 Katherine; () lvl 18 Jun; () lvl 53
Cumulus; () lvl 50 Lucas; () lvl 14 Carmen; () lvl 8
Denny; () lvl 21 Akito; () lvl 18 Maya; () lvl 5
Pippi; () lvl 28 Matthew; () lvl 16 Agito; () lvl 3
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Old 06-23-2009, 02:17 PM   #448
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Tale View Post


Mystery Island: The Underbelly

Firewater: Rooted to earth upon which you’ve thus far adventured, you stand perplexed at the suitable means by which to reach what you discern from below to be an island, separated from the bulk of the Cloud Garden, whose vast shadow swathes the sky with white. Rumours of the mysteries that pervade it have reached your ears, though it is with a steadfast sense of true adventurer’s determination that you attempt to ascertain the route to take.

The cloud-shadowed plains that stretch for miles all around seem desolate. Predictably, those who venture this far would inevitably take an immediate preference for the Cloud Garden, and so it would seem that its countless mysteries and abundant delights have tempted all but the most mundane of travellers into its magical midst. Nonetheless, you release Dart, and relay to him a clear set of instructions that should eventually expose to you a more energy-conserving path as opposed to the otherwise imperative use of Dart’s avian strength to lift you the entire way. In his absence, you exercise for some flash weight-loss should such eventualities occur, and partake in an adlibbed workout regime that works to heighten your own energy levels and preparation for adventure.

The exercise continues for much longer than you’d anticipated, and before long, you remit due to exhaustion, and merely wait out Dart’s return. Almost an hour passes before his familiar form can be seen in the sky - tailed by a bird much larger than he, boasting a dauntingly impressive wingspan. You prepare for contact as they swiftly cover the space between you, and before long you are walking to meet Dart’s discovered aid, acknowledging his achievement on the way.

The person that Dart had brought was an elder. A woman with a flowery dress and fastened hat which secures the curly locks of silver hair that frame her wrinkled, kindly face. She approaches you gracefully, seemingly pleased by Dart’s previously indecipherable intention.

“Can I help you, young man?” She asks as the gap between you is closed, leaving her Fearow to preen its wings behind her. You tell the old woman of your current dilemma, and your story is received with somewhat disheartened intrigue. She ponders your request for her knowledge for a few seconds before her reply is made, carefully worded as though reluctant to allow you the opportunity to travel to Mystery Island. “Well,” she begins, twisting her mouth as though unwilling to continue, “I’ve lived in Sky Gate for all of my life, and never had I suspected that the Mystery Island - about which we’ve heard such terrible rumours - possessed a route to reach it, until I’d ventured to the ground one day on my own little exploration. Beneath the Garden, as you can see, there is little to behold, but I stumbled upon a man. Now, he’s not the most…typical of men, but he told me stories of the island that I daren’t pursue. His stories drove me back to my house, where I remained for the rest of the day - put off entirely by the thought of adventure.

“I would by no means recommend it, young man. What I would suggest is that you come with me, have a cup of tea and peruse the more…pleasant wonders of Sky Gate, and leave the Mystery Island to those mad enough to explore it.” Her tone is somewhat patronising, but then her expression drops, “But, if you really want to see for yourself…the fellow is a distance to the west - in that direction,” she points behind her, towards the grounds that Mystery Island overshadows, “He lives there in a hut, almost directly beneath the island. If you really want to reach the island without your use of a flyer like your fine Staravia, then may I suggest speaking with him first. But, like I said, I’d much rather you come with me.” She ends, at least, on an affable smile. She is a kindly old lady, abiding by the typical stereotype to which your more innocent thoughts are accustomed. Yet, her suggestion seems to divert quite substantially from the potential excitement of the Mystery Island - whether the prospected danger proves repellent or not, is up to you.

What will you do?
After Dart had left, David Michael began to work pretty hard... eventually he was forced to stop, exhaustion having set in. An hour or so had passed before David Michael had heard something...

"Star, Staravia!"

David Michael turns to the sky, and grins as he notices Dart flying through the wind, and then notices the thing behind him. Regardless, David Michael couldn't place the name of the pokemon, only reconizing the massive wingspan and beak of a Fearow after it had landed.

"Good job Dart."

After praising his starter for his feat, David Michael turns to the Fearow's rider. Walking towards the elderly woman, he noticed the flowery dress and glasses, as well as the very gray, if not silver in color hair on her head.

“Can I help you, young man?”

David Michael snaps back into reality, before he quickly tells the old lady the entire story. However, as the true plan of his travels became clear, David Michael noticed that her stance seemed less willing, as a bit unerved by the seemingly simple request. David Michael simply waits after he finishes talking, and the elderly lady continues.

“Well,” she begins, twisting her mouth as though unwilling to continue, “I’ve lived in Sky Gate for all of my life, and never had I suspected that the Mystery Island - about which we’ve heard such terrible rumours - possessed a route to reach it, until I’d ventured to the ground one day on my own little exploration. Beneath the Garden, as you can see, there is little to behold, but I stumbled upon a man. Now, he’s not the most…typical of men, but he told me stories of the island that I daren’t pursue. His stories drove me back to my house, where I remained for the rest of the day - put off entirely by the thought of adventure."

Listening to the explanation, David Michael began to think a bit, that man she mentioned, if he still lived could actually be a good help to getting up to the island. But yet again, he stops his thinking to continue to listen to the old woman.

“I would by no means recommend it, young man. What I would suggest is that you come with me, have a cup of tea and peruse the more…pleasant wonders of Sky Gate, and leave the Mystery Island to those mad enough to explore it.” Her tone is somewhat patronising, but then her expression drops, “But, if you really want to see for yourself…the fellow is a distance to the west - in that direction,” she points behind her, towards the grounds that Mystery Island overshadows, “He lives there in a hut, almost directly beneath the island. If you really want to reach the island without your use of a flyer like your fine Staravia, then may I suggest speaking with him first. But, like I said, I’d much rather you come with me.”

After hearing all of this, David Michael thought for a second. If he'd been on a stressful adventure or so before this, that cup of tea and a tour had sounded good. However, he knew that he and his pokemon were fully recovered from their last adventure and would be ready for everything. He did not want to offend the old lady, so when she mentioned that man again he knew that there would be some help from someone, yet again he still did not want to offend the old lady. So thinking his words through, he begins to respond.

"Well, I thank you for the information and the warning Mrs... um... but I think that i've pretty much decided to continue my trip. I think i'll ask for some advice from that guy that you mentioned, and I'll be back for that cup of tea when I get back to solid ground. I'll see you later."

Finally leaving the old lady, David Michael begins to walk where the old lady had pointed. Turning to Dart, he asks a simple question once she got well out of sight...

"Dart, do you think that you could carry me up there, or should we go and talk to that other guy first?, i'll leave it up to you."

waiting for Dart's response, David Michael continues to walk down the path...
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Old 06-23-2009, 02:29 PM   #449
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Quote:
Originally Posted by enchantress View Post
Stardust Fields: Ever wondered what it looks like to walk in outer space? Well chances are you'll never get a chance to do that, so why not take a walk through the Stardust Fields instead? A peaceful, uninterrupted terrain, providing habitat for all sorts of weird and wonderful pokemon, and maybe even the odd precious stone or two.
Alright, let's try this again. I won't rush out this time. ;C

Stepping past the familiar entrance to the Cloud Garden, Alina and her faithful Charmander, Alberta, arrived at the Sky Gate, anticipating yet another promising adventure from the sky garden. Alberta couldn't be more pleased with the location. It was certainly much better than haunted hotels, poisonous forests, and god-forsaken glaciers that held nothing but snow, snow, snow. Yes, they should be pretty safe here. The Charmander stretched and yawned as she followed her trainer past the bustling crowds to a directory of the Cloud Garden.

"Mm, it's nice to be back," Alina mumbled as she stopped at the huge directory. As she mulled over the areas of the garden Alberta gazed up at the towering board, curiously staring at each picture. Although she couldn't read, she had a good idea of what each area was. There was a strange road that shined a thousand colors and spanned over the Cloud Garden, and then there was a strange rock formation near by. A menacing garden with a huge door lay right next to that picture, and then a flat plateau that seemed to tower over everything else.

"You know," Alina began, looking off into the direction of a waterfall that crashed in the distance. "It's summer, and it's quite a hot day today."

Alberta merely shrugged. Being a fire-type, heat didn't bother her at all. In fact, it was probably the reason for her good mood today. The Charmander lazily gazed up at her trainer as Alina continued, "We've had a long walk here, so why don't we take a break?"

Alberta blinked, slightly puzzled. Every day is a break to Alina. She hardly trains, or does much of anything, in fact. When they stop at an area the first thing that comes to her mind is 'nap time' and 'that wicked and menacing place looks fun to play in.' Alina turned away from her Charmander to point on the directory to the picture of a beautiful waterfall with a rainbow arched over it. "I think we'll go there, Alberta. The Rainbow Waterfalls."

Alberta's eyes grew wide with terror upon the word waterfall. Way to ruin a beautiful, scorching hot day, Ms. Alina. It was only natural for Alberta to hate water, with her fire-typing and water endangering the fire on the tip of her tail and her life. Plus, knowing Alina, she would probably forget how to swim and drown and Alberta couldn't save her. Oh wait, that could be a blessing in disguise...

None the less, Alberta plopped down on the ground, making it clear that she wasn't going anywhere near that place. Alina tilted her head, confused, and tried a different suggestion. "How about the Fountain Garden?"

Alberta held her place on the ground as she glared up at her trainer. A minefield of water? I think not. The trainer pursed her lips as she glanced back at the directory, thoroughly frustrated with her Pokemon. "Fine, Stardust Fields."

Oh, that sounds pretty. Hopping to her feet, Alberta wagged her tail, small embers flying from the tip. Smiling weakly, Alina began her trek towards the Stardust Fields, only slightly disappointed that she wouldn't get to cool off in a lake, or even a fountain. She always did have a liking towards astronomy and all the mysterious and fascinating things that take place among the stars, and was sure that this place would promise an adventure to remember...
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Old 06-23-2009, 09:32 PM   #450
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Quote:
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Oh, hello Cloud Garden.

First things first: both an apology and a GINORMOUS thanks is in order for all my updatees. I know you know why I've been so frustratingly inactive, so I won't reiterate, but I will apologise one more time. And I owe you all thanks for being so patient - now, I do believe, the action will pick up once more. Your adventures have once again inspired me and I'm excited about every update. I'm looking forward to a compelling summer!

Hello to SP Eevee, who has joined with SW's departure. I'm really looking forward to your adventure, SP, and don't even think about worrying about the quality of your posts - the intro was perfect. I hope you'll enjoy everything I can throw at you.

Ok, now I'm back in updating, I want to reiterate that I am an extremely open updator and the slightest qualm or query I urge you to PM me with. If we can communicate in regards to the adventure, then it can only increase the quality, I reckon. Anyway, enough rambling, this is for updating not talking.



The Rainbow Waterfalls: Reynard's Camp

Pearl's Perap: You leap into action with stalwart bravery, truth shining with the verification of your promise to defend the camp. Ahead the swift Taillow weave between one another with unmatched agility, seemingly surveying the enclosing tents as they dart in your direction, shrill chirps gradually intensifying over the gunfire. As Alice comprehends your orders, launching herself from your shoulders in preparation to attack, a flash in the distance snatches your focus - a giant, familiar dragon soars from within the tent that Reynard and Sebastian are now submerged, a gleaming, fearsome Salamence whose great wings beat furiously at the air and seems to weave almost effortlessly between the responsive barrage of bullets that ensue. The three avian brawlers remain undeterred, however, and Alice achieves with aplomb the formation of an Ice Beam which strikes with effective precision one of the Taillow - effortlessly felling the bird without a moment’s retaliation, plucked from the air with a shocked chirp of pain. With but a single enemy to contend with, Alice wastes no time in dispatching the second bird, whose last-ditch attempt at a Growl is followed with a desperate revaluation of its course as it attempts to veer, as intended, into the nearest tent. These two birds, it would seem, were good only for the thievery to which they were suited as opposed to battle, as the tendrils of electricity that shoot from the cooled beak of your talkative parrot lap at the Taillow’s rear before bringing it down in a cloud of feathers, and remitting to the assuring sound of a pained squawk.

With the low-levelled threats effortlessly dispatched, you are free to return your sights to the perpetual escalation of chaos that ensues in the distance. Esmond, howling incessantly as he tackles mercenary after mercenary to the ground beneath the Blastoise’s shield of bubbles, seems to fearlessly snatch life with a daunting ferocity to which you’ve yet to be fully accustomed. Meanwhile the Salamence seems to work only in drawing the mercenaries’ fire, roaring with blood-chilling fierceness as it encircles the camp from above. Alice swerves back to your shoulder, content with her success and barely drained by the minimal effort. Enraptured so terribly by the horrific scene before you, you are somewhat unresponsive to what you are certain is a sound from behind you. The enveloping chaos limits your reaction as you eventually register the implications of such a sound - though, the futility of a response is somewhat verified within the ensuing few seconds.

You cannot react in time before a force from behind propels you forwards and causes a graceless landing upon the open patch of grass between you and the brawl ahead. Glancing up through wincing eyes, you watch Alice frantically attempt a secure landing on the ground before you, as a familiar Dragonite soars directly overhead, shooting unswervingly towards the Salamence whose course swiftly assumes evasive precautions. The suddenness of the situation restricts your ability to comprehend the occurrence, but the voice you hear from behind you verifies it entirely.

“Zak…what are you doing here?” It’s Keeley, who has seemingly managed to escape her captivity within the tent. Ahead the mercenaries are now immersed in confusion, guns blazing in all directions, including your own. Esmond is tiring from his efforts and the bubbles supplied by the Blastoise are slowly thinning in magnitude. Those who still fire skywards are now urged by the increased likelihood of a successful hit - and all the while Keeley’s Dragonite doggedly pursues the unprepared Salemence, firing beam after beam towards its adversary. Reynard is yet to emerge from the charred hole of the tent into which he’d dragged the limp body of Sebastian, and faintly, you can hear Keeley’s rapid footsteps approach.

What will you do?
[No sweat, dude. Take your time, whenever :3]

As the carnage with the mercenaries continued hard, Alice began her quick round of attacks on the oncoming swallow pokmon. As they flitted forwards at a greatening speed, chirping their shrill cries, the exotic bird quickly musters up her first attack, a blue beam of ice energy directly at one of the approaching Taillow. Sorted in an instant, the Chatot quickly changed focus to the other bird, who tried to intimidate but failed, being felled by a thunderous bolt from deep within Alice. Content that she had managed to deal with the task she had been given, the bird landed upon Zak's shoulder once more, rubbing at his face with her head.

"Good job, girl..." the boy managed to utter, still watching what was going on before him. The Manectric and Blastoise working together as a unit to kick down as many of their own personal foes as physically possible. It was at this point when a strange sound appeared. A loud rustling coming from a nearby tent, the boy and bird suspected instantly and, in the same amount of time it had taken them to work out the location, a large pokmon pushed through the gap in the tent. The Salamence from previously, looking as tough and ready to brawl as ever, was now fully in front of the boy. With a glint in his eye, the dragon took off at a quickening speed, flying right into the thick of everything, hungry for some of his own action in the battle that was ensuing nearby.

Holding onto the parrot, Zak watched the Salamence soar into the battlezone, firing off attacks left, right and centre in the hopes of destroying the enemy. It's eyes glazed over, ruthlessly, the dragon was not going to give in after what had occured. Completely entranced by the events before him, Zak did not realize something was happening behind him until it was too late. With a shove from an unknown force, the boy was flung from his feet, Alice quickly gaining the momentum to fly upwards and turn to examine. It appeared to be another familiar dragon. However, this one was not the one Zak had hoped for. Before him stood the Dragonite he knew belonged to or was working with Keeley, the woman he was meant to be keeping within her prison.

“Zak…what are you doing here?” Her words came, as the boy expected. With a deep swallow, he turned from the madness, he had to face the music at some point. Flapping above his head still, the Chatot cried out, "Keeley! Keeley!" Standing up quickly and brushing himself off, the boy acted fast. He had been assigned to keep the girl where she belonged and he fully intended to. Without wasting any time, the boy flung the bird gracefully from his shoulder, where she had neatly perched once more.

"Mega Drain her, we need to try and incapacitate her. If not, try and paralyze her with Thunderbolt." Zak uttered quickly to the rather bewildered looking Alice. They were harsh commands, but he had made an alliance, he wasn't going to back down now. If things turned soured with the Dragonite, he had his reserves. With his Pidgeot getting stronger each and every day, he had already made plans to introduce him to Alice, to show her exactly how tough a bird pokmon can be. Retaining his focus, he watched as the confused bird began her personal assault, hoping the Dragonite would not be nearby...
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