The Journey to Rainfront (Part I)

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All he wanted was to get the TM. He came all this way, traveling for weeks, just to find that damned TM. The TM Brick Break was thought to be a strong fighting move- one that could break even barriers of light. The moment he'd heard of such a move, he immediately made it his goal to retrieve it. He left the safety of Treasure Town, traveled past numerous towns, caverns, forests, you name it. And after weeks of traveling, he finally reached the Black Spear Mountain Range.

But by an ironic twist of fate, he was left falling to his doom. He was falling into some sort of fissure, the Obsidian Crevice, if he could recall. He was surprised that he could even remember such a detail, seeing how he was literally screaming his lungs out. Wind continued to rush past him as he descended into the dark abyss. He fell deeper and deeper into the crevice, losing all hope of surviving as darkness overwhelmed his view.

To his surprise, he didn't collide with a stone hard floor. Instead, he fell into a pile. The feeling of cold metal made him open his eyes. All around him were piles upon piles of treasure and items, all stacked and stored in a small corner of the dark crevice.

Mordred brought his hands to his eyes, rubbing them in attempts of getting rid of whatever mirage his mind had created. He brought his hands off his eyes, seeing the piles still there. Was this some sort of dream? It didn't seem like it. The Scraggy shook his head, unconvinced at what he was seeing. When it was obvious it wasn't just a trick played by his mind, he stood up and began to search for an escape. How was he going to get back to the surface?

The sableye rushed into the obsidian cave, cackling at the idea of the cornered sandshrew. They showed their gnashing teeth through hideous smiles as they surveyed the room for their prey. When it was not immediately evident, the sableye sniffed at the air, dropping to all fours and taking in their surrounding with the remaining senses.

Douglas smiled from the shadows. "These two are inexperienced. With the leader gone, they lack intellect and independence." The Sandshrew had an idea where the elder sableye had gone, but he wasn't in the position to complain. He hoped the scraggy had his hands full.

Douglas crept around behind one of the sableye. This one was using his long claws to scrap at the obsidian, as though this integration would lead it to the treasure hunter. Utilizing this distraction, Douglas darted from the darkness with uncanny agility for a sandshrew, striking the sableye's back gems with his hard digging claws.

The sableye shrieked with feral fury, whirling in a purple mist of maw and claws, pain glinting in its stoney eyes. For all it's show, it saw not its attacker, raking glossy black instead, marks of white spoiling the dark.

The two sableye howled together and patrolled along the circumference of the cave, claws tearing at the walls. Douglas waited until the very last second to jump out at one of the approaching sableye, in visioning his escape. "Claw stomach, vault over, ball and run."

But, as it seemed today, nothing would ever go to the sandmouse's plan. As Douglas lashed out, the front sableye dodged back ever so slightly, causing him to over balance. Utilizing the slowed reaction time, the sableye reached forward and grabbed the unfortunate treasure hunter's paw, pulling him from the shadows.

The sableye rolled back, bringing Douglas onto his soft stomach atop the braced legs of his enemy. The nymph of darkness clenched its toes, driving his razor sharp talons into the sandmouse's unprotected belly. Douglas gasped in pain as the claws sunk in deep. During this moment, the sableye continued its backward roll, vaulting the poorly fortuned armadillo into an ancient wall.

Douglas' back arched from the impact. It would have bruised nicely had it not been for his tough skin. The force knocked his hat and mask free. The items scattered across the floor to the feet of the second sableye, it's features distorted with loathing and malice.

Douglas groaned as the sableye clicked its fangs together and brandished its claws, advancing and cackling all the while. The sandshrew watched, bleary eyed as the jeweled fiend made a point of stamping Douglas's hat, giggling with childlike glee as this feet crushed the hat out of its well worn shape. This act snapped the treasure hunter's mind back into focus.

"Hey, Ah-"

But the second sableye cared little as to what words issued from Douglas' mouth and more about having some of Douglas in its mouth. The thing lunged and bit down hard upon his thick arm. Pain scythed through the limb, stirring the sandshrew's brain into physical action. Douglas flailed, his scratches passing through his attackers ghostly form before Douglas had the sense to bash it's face against the floor, knocking it lose from shock.

Wasting no time, the impulsive and enraged ground-type leap at the immature creature that was treating his hat like a sleeping snorlax's belly. The brim creased as Douglas collided with the ghost, his small face mauling the sableye as he injected poison into it, contaminating its system with a cocktail of toxin. The two opponents tumbled, clawing and tearing at each other, Douglas losing out to the beast's superior strength. Before the battle could be won fairly, Douglas heard a shrill laugh as a fist crashed into the back of his head.

His senses dulling, the treasure hunter slumped and the obsidian walls closed in, accompanied by the hysterics of his vindictive foes.

Mordred was running out of breath. He stood in the darkness, covered in fresh scratches and bitemarks as he watched his opponent. His eyes conveyed his exhaustion, just barely staying open. If it weren't for the fact he could see in the dark, he was sure he would've been as good as dead by now. His body hunched slightly, one of his arms protectively covering his wounded stomach. A small drop of blood trailed from the wound behind the arm, slowly inching down onto the scraggy's torn clumps of shed skin.

A considerable distance away from the beaten fighting pokemon was the leader of the trio of sableye. The imp’s jewel eyes gave a glint in the shadows, waiting eagerly for its target to reveal a blind spot. It knew full well that the scraggy had no chance of defeating it, but the hunger for a worthy battle had urged it not to use its full power. After all, where was the fun in knocking out your opponent in one hit? That would not even be considered a warm up. Although, after what could be estimated as half an hour or so of allowing the fleeing victim to stay conscious and withstand its attacks, the sableye was beginning to lose interest. It would be a matter of time before the final blow would be dealt.

The scraggy broke the silence when he gave a sneeze, finally giving in to the cold environment. Immediately, a loud cackle sounded, followed by the sound of something colliding with the hard, dark walls of the fissure. The sableye had leap at the scraggy, no longer holding back its frightening speed. Its claws glowed with dark aura as it reached towards the other pokemon’s chest, raking at the skin and leaving more bleeding marks. Mordred gave a screech, falling backwards at the sudden attack. He fell onto the obsidian floor, his head hitting the ground hard. Just barely gripping consciousness, he forced his eyes open to meet with a familiar pair of jewels before pain struck in the form of a clawed hand. With one final Shadow Claw, the scraggy was reduced to an unconscious, battered heap.

The Sableye took a few steps back, examining its victim. When it was sure the scraggy wouldn’t be getting back on its feet any time soon, it began searching. After a few minutes of inspecting the body, the imp gave an irritated growl. The valuables really were with the sandshrew, and there was nothing left to take from this pokemon. The sableye ran, continuing after its allies in pursuit of the ground pokemon. It expected its cohorts to have knocked out the sandshrew and have taken his treasure by the time it returned.

It was sandy again. The wind had picked and there was a storm around him. Eyes are squinted, face is covered. The sand slowed now, seeming like a lightly falling snow. Sound dulled and the infuriated Krookodile bust from beneath the grit. Falling back, the teeth approached in a speed that was improbably slow yet unavoidably fast. The strings of viscous saliva trailed from the greasy gums, flying granules of dirt landing unheeded upon the tongue.

‘Flash.’

Brightness so light it reduced vision to dark.

Nothing.



The pain of Douglas’ abrupt awakening was not pleasant. The Sandshrew lay back down, slowly feeling for his wounds, revelation visually being too difficult. Douglas almost tickled his claws across his body, searching out his roots of agony. Though his arm seemed undamaged by the bites, six large gashes lay vertically across the armadillo’s soft stomach, each a neat sets of three and caked with dried blood. Flexing from his waist proved to be too painful so Douglas tenderly but tenaciously rolled to his side, crawling on all fours toward where his bag lay in the shadows of the crevasse he occupied. The bag lay open, its contents strewn across the floor. His belongings had been ransacked and though nothing from the bag itself appeared to be missing, the treasure hunter’s weather mask was absent.

Quietly fuming, Douglas gathered his things from the floor, taking a full ten minutes of exacerbated gasping before he found his set of herbs. Taking a leafy green Revival herb from an expensive vial, he chewed it into a fine paste, the juices soothing his gullet and invigorating his body as he spat the paste upon his stomach. The sandmouse eyed cave again as he smeared the green the thick goo gingerly over himself. He spat remains of a stem, vehemently cursing under his breath as he spied his hat, dusty and crumpled from his battle. The herb having lessened the effects of Douglas’ injuries, he lent back against the obsidian walls, slowly pushing in himself to his feet, panting with the effort of the exertion. On his two feet now, the sandshrew lay back against the cooling dark walls, sweat rolling down his brow. Pausing a moment to allow the Revival herb to aid in his recovery, Douglas licked the slaty liquid from his and collected his thoughts. After a few minutes, the treasure hunter felt stable enough to walk. Shambling toward his hat, Douglas noticed a dark spot by his favourite possession.

Dusting off his headwear, Douglas regarded the sableye. The marks on its body and the feverish breathing indicated his poison was taking its toll on the powerful creature. Its buddies must have left once they saw its condition.

“Thick as thieves...”

The sableye thrashed weakly as Douglas lifted its prostate body. The armadillo shouldered it’s adversary and went off to find the Arceus forsaken scraggy.

None too softly Douglas dropped the sableye down next to the scraggy. Douglas kicked the clothed pokemon in the ribs, his claws digging into the abdomen. It shuddered, confirming to the ground-type life yet held its bones, despite the myriad of cuts and scratches. He tossed the herb at the scraggy, it landing upon the chest with a soft thump.

“Chew. Don’t swallow. Deal with the taste. Spread yer drool on yer injuries.”
Douglas turned away before the scraggy could answer, standing guard over disabled ghost type. As the scraggy dealt with it problems, the keen eyed sandshrew noticed something underneath the sableye.

This dice is not existing.

Mordred stood in the darkness, lost in the abyss of his mind. Small images, possibly fragments of his memories passed by, not giving him a chance to validate his assumptions as they blurred into the shadows as quickly as they came. As the fragments continued to rush past him, the area slowly became colder. Soon enough, the chilling atmosphere became almost too much to bear. It surprised the scraggy how he wasn’t frozen then and there, but was already shivering uncontrollably from head to toe. He looked up to the fragments, noticing how they were gradually turning slower and clearer. He reached out, trying to grab the warmth that emitted from the fragments. Inching slowly towards them, he was a mere arms length away from his goal.

And then everything came crashing down.

He woke with a start, a sudden pain snapping him back to consciousness. He groaned, a swelling ache on his abdomen, as if something sharp yet hard as rock had struck his ribs while he was asleep. He wrapped his arms around the aching area, trying to ignore the pain as well as his other injuries. He rolled onto his side, forcing his eyes open. He was still in the fissure, it seemed, and from the horrid cuts on his arms he could tell that none of the previous events had been another dream. He examined the area further, before finally noticing a peculiar green item nearby him. A herb, of some sort, and it was not emitting a very fragrant aroma. It smelled so powerful, causing the scraggy to scrunch up his face in disgust.

“Chew. Don’t swallow. Deal with the taste. Spread yer drool on yer injuries.” An oddly familiar voice instructed, just barely being understood by the half-conscious scraggy. Mordred couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about the voice and its rusty accent made him slightly angry. He grit his teeth, forcing his injured body into a sitting position. The sting from his wounds nearly caused him to topple back onto the floor; he didn’t doubt that a few of his wounds may have opened from the exertion. He got the leafy item, inspecting it to decide whether or not he would do as the voice had instructed. He turned his attention to the direction of the voice, being greeted by two others- one of whom seemed to be writhing in pain next to him. He immediately dragged himself back from the two by impulse, not expecting them to have been so near him.

He was about to throw a fit when he noticed the familiarity of the pokemon. One was a Sandshrew and the other was a Sableye, both being obviously injured. The Sableye seemed to be unable to move, weakened by something. Illness? He couldn’t be sure. The Sandshrew, on the other hand, seemed to be doing well compared to the ghost. The ground type had a number of evident scratches, mainly on its belly, but seemed to be recovering decently.

‘Wait… a sandshrew?’ It was then the scraggy remembered of his earlier encounter. The sandshrew hiding behind a mask, the fleeing and the wild goose chase, those brutal sableye. Yet from the scene he awoke to, none of it seemed to add up. He narrowed his eyes at the ground type, doubting if it was a good idea to trust the pokemon. He got the green herb, tossing it back to the pokemon. “As if I’d take some weird herb from a crazy sandshrew.” He growled, not forgetting the comment the ground pokemon gave him earlier.

Douglas ignored the scraggy instead inspected the newly acquired stun seed, turning it before his inquisitive eye. Deciding it being a genuine article, he stored it away inside his bag.

"Ah don't care what you think Ah may be doin', but Ah hope you can still think straight. If Ah wanted you dead, Ah wouldn't have woken you up right now. If Ah wanted to poison you, why would Ah feed you when Ah can just do this?"

The sandshrew gestured toward the sableye. It lay unmoving and covered in sweat, it's chest rising and falling faster with each passing moment, yet also it was losing its strength as the lungs lost their energy.

Douglas folded his arms and shook his head. "Yer none to quick, are you?" The treasure hunter paused, but not so long that the scraggy could answer. "These fiends stole mah mask. I want you to talk to him fer me. Find out where it's gone. Argue later, this guy is almost flyin' back to Arceus." Its yer fault anyway...

Douglas lifted the feverish sableye and propped him to a sitting position. With nothing more to say, the wounded armadillo crossed his strong digging arms, staring intently at the scraggy. The silence stretched as he waited for the interrogation to begin.

Mordred glared at the Sandshrew, unable to form a proper comeback at the statement. The ground pokemon had a point, but it didn’t make him any less threatening or irritating. The scraggy turned his attention to the weakened and seemingly dying Sableye, shuddering at the sight. What happened to it? It seemed to be ill, possibly poisoned or infected from how it seemed unable to move on its own. The injuries it had on its skin didn’t seem to be the cause of its inability to move, so the assumption of it being ill seemed more plausible.

The scraggy watched as the sableye’s writhing form was forced onto a sitting position in front of him, disgusted by the act. Sure, the damn beasts nearly killed him, but interrogating it while in this condition? It just seemed cruel. It seemed to be trying to say something, but all that came were faint hisses and gurgles as it fought to grip the last shred of consciousness it had. The scraggy waited for the sableye to at least utter something more comprehensible, but it seemed unlikely. He faced the sandshrew, looking annoyed and slightly sickened by how he seemed confident that he’d get answers. Just because he and the sableye were both dark types, it didn’t mean they would be able to understand each other, and the sableye couldn’t even move.

“Wow, you seriously expect this guy to talk in his state? You-” He was cut off by the sound of hissing. Turning his attention back at the sableye, he watched as it raised an arm, pointing its claw to his bag. He seemed confused for a few seconds, trying to figure out why it was pointing at his bag. He opened it, finding nothing out of the ordinary. It was then a little pink item caught his eye, hidden beneath the piles of miscellaneous junk he kept in the bag. He pulled it out, revealing the Pecha Berry. The dark pokemon probably caught its scent. It began bombarding the lizard with hisses and clicks, trying to communicate with him using its odd language. Mordred couldn’t understand anything it was saying, but it was obvious it wanted the berry.

“Good news and bad news. Good news is that I’ve got a pecha berry to heal this guy. Bad news is I don’t speak primitive sableye language. Seriously, why would you even assume that?” He said, still holding the berry away from the ill pokemon. It continued to hiss and click its tongue, while trying to get its tired claws to grab the fruit.

"Are you out of yer dang mind?!" The sandshrew snatched at the berry, the sudden movement jarring his body. Spikes shot up from his wounds like pillars of fiery icicles. Douglas felt his face twinge. "Would that nymph give you a chance like yer givin' 'im?"

The treasure hunter grunted at the two other Pokemon. He aimed a claw at one of scraggy's open wounds. "Look at that, ya see it?" The cut was a few inches long and caked in a solid red. "He an' he's friends did that. His friends stole MAH MASK an' then ditched this guy when they saw he was in a bad shape."

Douglas spat out grit from his muzzle, the spittle streaked with pink from his unhealthy body. "These sableye are greedy, evil bein's. You give 'im an inch and he'll be playin' yer ribcage like a xylophone."

The injured Pokemon set his eyes on the ghost type. "The poison will take him, but he don't deserve that. Be a few days fer 'im otherwise. Should kill him now. Kindly thing to do."

Douglas dug into his soul and pulled up the black, his figure distorting as his dark energy grew forth. It enveloped his arms up to the shoulders, long claws drawing out.

He stepped forward.

Mordred saw the sandshrew make a move to grab the berry and, by impulse, stretched his arm away from the ground pokemon in refusal to surrendering his item. Who did he think he was? Trying to snatch another's item away just because it was offered to someone. The scraggy gave a huff at the act, before rolling his eyes as he listened to the ground pokemon begin rambling. He hadn't even been with this pokemon for long and he was already beginning to hate the sound of his voice. Well, mainly the annoying accent, but that was a minor detail to the large list of how irritating the pokemon was.

"Alright, look, I wasn't going to- Wait, what!?" The scraggy watched as the ground mouse began approaching the beaten sableye, planning to end its life. He pulled himself up, wincing as he felt his wounds sting. Now standing, the dark pokemon pulled his foot back in preparation. He focused on the ground pokemon's movements, not allowing him to come any closer to the injured imp. Was this guy crazy? Sure, the Sableye were horrid creatures, but killing one off without giving a chance was just brutal.

"Look, You don't need to kill him alright? We can just use him as bait or something. This couldn't have been the first time this happened. Those other Sableye would probably be waiting for this one to come back. Heck, maybe we could get him to lead us. A small piece of an oran berry is all he'll need to walk, but he won't be spared from the poison and can't flee." Mordred tried to reason, not wanting to end up in another fight. He wasn't in good shape, and even with his type advantage it was possible the sandshrew could poison and beat him to death. Dying in this irritating mouse's claws would be more shameful than excruciating.

Douglas noticed the scraggy's shift in stance and turned away from the sableye. He knew that in a battle his Nightslash wouldn't be all that effective against this foe, but it was his strongest technique and he wasn't going to open with his poison sting. The scraggy would expect that.

"Mah, ain't you pious?" Douglas spat. "This little monster almost torn out my stomach." The sandshrew indicated the large gashes on his gut. The paste had sealed the wounds but it would be a long time before they healed properly. A fight would re-open them, not an ideal situation. It would probably give the fighting type the advantage. He did seem rather stupid though.

Douglas grit he teeth as he sized the beaten scraggy up. All in all, a fight was a terrible plan. Both Pokemon were in bad shape, inside a very deep and high leveled cave with low supplies of food and water.

"Alright scraggy. Have it yer way." Douglas grimaced as he felt his dark energy dissipate into an ethereal liquid and swim back inside him. The treasure hunter coughed and held up his hands. "Ah won't kill it. Truce. We can let the merry little nymph tear out our throats later." Douglas spat again. "If Ah die in this god forsaken place because of some empty headed fighter, Ah'll never forgive myself..."

The Sandshrew stepped away from the pitiful Dark types, sitting down and going over his rather pitiful wounds himself. The three Pokemon had more injuries then a masochistic pyrophilliac.

"Alright genius. What's yer plan? They would have taken mah mask to their horde. We don't know where that is, you can't talk to the little tyrant and Ah know Ah don't have and oran berry. Dazzle me."