New Traveling Experiences

Cry was silent as she and Mordred the Scraggy entered Pricklemist Hill, save for the scraping of her claws against the bark of the trees they passed. Sneasels and Weaviles constantly did so to keep themselves sharp. The whole climate was new to the pure dark type. Used to frozen tundras, this plain woods atmosphere. Cry didn't feel she needed to fight with all she had to survive here. It was not unpleasant, but a strange feeling to her. Cry's body stayed tense though, expecting trouble to pop out at them at any moment. That was the way nature worked... right?

Mordred winced as he heard Crysel drag her claws on the bark, creating a rather disturbing sound. His grip on the Wonder Map tightened, only to relax once the scraping died down. Okay, maybe this trip would be a bit more irritating than he'd anticipated. He sighed, returning his attention to the piece of paper he held. Pricklemist wasn't going to be a very hard trip. If they were lucky and didn't run into any trouble, they would reach Rainfront Town in less than a day. Heck, maybe just 10 hours if they walked faster. Looking up, his hopes shattered. The blue sky they had been first greeted with was slowly turning orange, indicating sunset. Seems like they had chosen the wrong time to leave the cave. To make matters worse, the darkening clouds were indicating a possible storm. They'd have to find shelter, otherwise they'd be pelted. He looked back to his companion, a disappointed look on his face. "Hey Crysel, it looks like we're gonna have to postpone the trip for a while and settle. Night's coming, and from those clouds, a storm too."

Crysel wasn't blind, she had spotted the dark clouds too. Back hom, that meant snow was coming and lots of it. But she didn't understand, why was there no snow on any surface? It wasn't even that cold. SHE KNOWS NOTHING OF RAIN Crysel sighed and nodded. "We will need to find shelter. We need a roof over our heads and a high place to be so we can look out for danger and the like. Food wouldn't hurt either. Do you know of any place in the area that would do Mordred?"

Mordred stopped, trying to think of any places nearby that applied. They weren't deep enough to find any vacant caves. They'd just nearly entered, so there was a high chance the caves and dwellings nearby would already be occupied. It would be of best interest to avoid disturbing any burrows or caves, as Arceus knows what could be lurking in the shadows. And personally, after having just recovered his arm, the scraggy would much rather not fight anyone yet. But where would they take shelter? He could only think of one option, and it was definitely not a favorable one.

"Erm. Well, the nearby caves would most likely be occupied already, seeing how this isn't exactly a very underpopulated area of Pricklemist. So that leaves us with only one option: The abandoned house. It's pretty sturdy to have survived so many storms, and most pokemon around here are too terrified to even approach it. But..." He stopped, about to protest in the decision when the sound of lightning rang through the area. He looked up, seeing the sky grow darker and darker with surprising speed. "... Oh never mind. We can't risk dawdling now. It looks like it's about to pour any second." He said, already beginning his way up the hill.

Crysel did not like the description Mordred gave on the house he deemed possible shelter. Despite the advantage of a high vantage point and strong walls, all the locals were too afraid to even get near it. That meant that there was a high risk in going there which was apparently not an option to them. However, with Mordred not willing to fight pokemon to take shelter by force, Crysel had no choice. She was respecting Mordred's wishes and following what he considered moral high ground. Even though the house's unknown dangers were a con for going there, Crysel knew the storm could be deadly. So she'd have to take a chance with the house for probable survival rather than assured death. So Crysel followed Mordred up the hill, keeping an eye out for attackers just in case.

Mordred continued walking up the hill, ignoring the sounds of lightning as he stuffed his Wonder Map back into his Treasure bag. As they drew closer to the top, the faint figure of a house began to come into view. The house lived up to its title, looking very much abandoned. It was a normal small house made out of wood, possibly built to cater to a small family. Its bruised and mossy wood indicated the many seasons it had successfully survived. It was truly a miracle how it stood standing for so long, as it looked very well ready to just break into pieces right then and there. There were no windows that he could see, but at one point there may have been as upon closer inspection, one could spot a few large openings having been boarded up.

The scraggy stopped in front of the door, reaching out to push it open. He paused, hesitating. Was it really a good idea? What if someone was already in there? Heck, it didn't even look safe at all! He bit his lip, trying to decide. He was then interrupted by more lightning, along with the soft pitter patter of water as rain began to pour. Without anymore second thoughts, he pushed the door open and entered.

There, they were greeted by a small amount of furniture covered with dirty, brown sheets. The sheets made the assumption of the house's old age even more believable, as it was obvious they used to be white but had been tainted from the many dust accumulated in the house. Mordred coughed at the dusty area, taking a few steps in. The floor boards creaked eerily as he pressed his foot down onto them. He seemed relieved that the floor didn't just- CRASH! And so it did. He gave a yelp, his leg suddenly submerged under the floor as the wooden boards gave up, leaving a large, rather painfully rigid hole. He hurriedly pulled his foot out, rubbing it as it felt a bit sore from the impact. He chuckled nervously, both from embarrassment and from how the atmosphere in the old abode seemed rather ominous.

The rain truely surprised Crysel. All that she had seen come out of the sky were snowflakes back home. This was actually her first encounter with rainfall. Cry hated water because SHE CAN'T SWIM getting wet meant a chance of hypothermia killing you back where she came from. Her thoughts were interupted by Mordred's accident and she rolled he eyes. "Step lightly. This place isn't used to pokemon in it and... I have a feeling this place isn't empty."

"Er... yeah, I think I can see that." Mordred said, before patting his arms on his pants. The dust in this place was really irritating. Small puffs of dust came off his skin-made 'clothes' as he did his best to get them off. He wasn't allergic or anything, but it felt pretty uncomfortable. He stood up, continuing to wander through the house. He stepped on the floor much carefully this time, but the eerie creaaak was just too inevitable in such an old home. It made him wonder: who lived in this place? He stopped, his attention caught by something placed upon an old shelf.

The shelf seemed on the verge of falling off, with cobwebs littering the edges of it. It was mounted quite high, a few meters above the Scraggy, but luckily still within reach. He jumped up, grabbing the edge of the shelf. To his surprise (and relief), it didn't fall or break. He began searching around, his hand feeling for any item left on the wooden shelf. He felt something. He grabbed the item, before landing back onto the ground. As he landed, another, much smaller item fell from the shelf. It hit the wooden floor softly, barely making a sound. A small silver glint could be seen in its place. A needle.

But the Scraggy wasn't paying attention to that. He was far too focused on what he had found. A book. A very old, worn book that was probably as old as this house. It seemed to be closed by a lock of some sort. He looked over to the sneasel, a slight grin on his face from his finding. "Hey Crysel, check this out!"

Crysel's sharp instincts were on high alert, putting her on edge. She just had a horrible vibe from this place, like it was demanding them to get out. As a child, Crysel had been told stories to pass the time. She had heard of hauntings and such from the elders. But of course she assumed that they were simple stories made to entertain. How could ghosts exist? In any case, Crysel walked over and looked at the book. She was only just iterested. "No key... well I could open it." Crysel took the book and used a claw to poke at the tumblers. After a bit, ther was a click and it popped open. Crysel handed the book back. "There, now you read it." To be honest, Crysel never learned how to read or write. It was never important in arctic survival.

Mordred watched, awed at how quickly the Sneasel was able to unlock the book with her claws. It wasn't a new skill, but due to his lack of claws it was oddly more appealing. Were claws really this useful? The reptile snapped out of his thoughts as the book was given back to him, now unlocked and ready to be read. He looked at the Sneasel, puzzled at how she didn't seem to know how to read. Was it because she was raised in the wild? He could only guess. He took note of it, knowing that he'd have to teach her at some point. He dread having to take the place of a mentor, as he never was good at listening to his teachers, let alone take their place.

He decided to worry about that another time. Right now, they'd discovered an old book. An old book that was now in his hands and ready to reveal its secrets. Surprising how he was so excited, seeing how he was never the reading type. He brushed off a bit of the dust on the cover, coughing in the process as small puffs of dust emerged from the top of the worn fabric. It was a hard cover covered with brown fabric, but whatever words had been written on it had worn over the years. He flipped the cover, revealing the torn pages within. The pages had all gone from a clean white to an aged yellow, with many edges and areas cut off.

Mordred smirked, looking through the pages. "Well, Cry. I don't think I have to." He said, before showing the Sneasel what was in the book. On the pages were scrawls of colors, making various shapes and doodles. There were a few words written, but were obscured by the many childish doodles. Most of the drawings seemed to consist of a small, white pokemon with a green head and some sort of black blob. The scraggy looked at the drawings, deducing that these were of a child that probably lived here before. What he didn't get was how farther in the book, the blob was removed from all the drawings. It had been drawn with the child for most of the earlier pages, but near the end it had been removed. The last few pages seemed to have been stuck together.

Crysel had no eye for art, mostly due to her upbringing. She had no idea what the picture even was and had never seen a Ralt, hence having no idea what the picture was. In Crysel's eyes, the book was a useless piece of junk. Crysel just rolled her eyes and turned away. "Its just trash then. It holds no information, useful or useless, and it is pretty much dead weight." The Sneasel kept feeling as if she was being watch, twisting her head side to side to look. "I'll feel a lot safer once we search the entire house and make sure its empty. I never trust what I hear. Only what I see."

Mordred shrugged, not really minding the idea of throwing the book away. It didn't hold anything that could benefit them anyways. "Yeah, alright. I'll put it back. Let's search the house." He said, before walking back to the shelf. Taking a leap, he grabbed the edge and placed the book back where it was left. Once he landed back on the floor, he felt a shudder escape him. Why was it suddenly so cold? Was it because of the Sneasel? Or was it because of the storm outside? He couldn't be sure. The reptile crossed his arms, trying to make more heat. He looked around, spotting two doors on opposite sides of the room.

"...Alright. Crysel, I'll go check out one of the rooms. You should look around at the other one." He said, heading to one of the doors.

Upon entering the other room, the door suddenly slammed closed, locking itself. The scraggy yelped, hearing the wooden door close abruptly. He tried opening it, but to no avail realized that he had been locked in. "What in Arceus' name is going on here!?" He said, beginning to panic as the room he was in began dropping in temperature. A ghostly cackle could be heard echoing in the dark, freezing room.

Crysel nodded, agreeing with the plan. "Right. We meet back in the main hall after we sweep our areas. Our survival chance is much better together." The sneasel entered the room and gave it a once over. It had bookshelves built into the wall and a desk near the back. Probably a study or something like it. Crysel didn't care. Books didn't interest her because survival was more important. Books would have been a distracting luxury. Hence not knowing how to read. In any case, there was no danger in this room specifically.

The sudden door slam made Crysel tense into action. She knew Mordred was in trouble. She went straight to the door that closed and could not open it. "Stand back! I'm gonna destroy the door!" The laugh only made her work faster as her claws cut into the wood. Her claws could literally gouge out stone, but this door was strangely resistant to her attacks. ITS A LEVEL 100 DOORCHU /shot But it was slowly coming down piece by piece.

Mordred couldn't feel anything. He stood in the room, frozen in his tracks as he looked up at the looming, shadowy figure. Its glowing red eyes stared down at him, not with malice but with... amusement? Its bright yellow smile seemed to hitch up for a moment, before the ominous being began to cackle once more. Its large, dark body began spreading throughout the room like crawling smoke, slowly making its way toward the terrified reptile.

Mordred tried to take a step back- to run, to hide. But his legs were not responding to his demands, and he was forced to watch as the shadowy tendrils of the otherworldly being continued to make its way toward him. The melodic cackle of the being was all he could hear, its odd timing beginning to sound similar to that of a Nursery Rhyme. He managed to closed his eyes, not wanting to see the hideous foe any longer. The room's atmosphere was beginning to confuse his emotions. Frightened? Excited? Terrified? Happy? He was unable to make up his mind. Dark smoke brushed onto his foot, forcing his eyes open to be greeted by the haunting ghoul mere inches from his face. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound was to be heard.


And with that, the Scraggy was sent unconscious with an unknown blow, sending him to the ground in mere seconds. He didn't move, an odd power preventing him from waking up as he was sent into the depths of his mind. The being cackled once more, taking a glance at the breaking door before pouncing towards the reptile and disappearing in an explosion of dark mist.

Crysel's claws didn't slow as they methodically ripped away the wooden door piece by piece. After the figure disappeared though, the door suddenly was much weaker and went down in seconds. The Sneasel jumped in with claws out, cold murder in her eyes and a feeling of cold malice coming off her. She was ready to kill... but she couldn't find whatever got Mordred. Still aware of her surroundings, Crysel examined Mordred. He was still breathing and there was no life threatening wounds on him. No bruises anywhere to indicate pain or a head blow knocking him out. He fainted from fright. Mordred would wake soon enough. In any case, she needed to be on her guard. Something was here, she could feel it. She'd be ready to attack it as soon as it showed itself. There would be no hesitation. There were no friendly pokemon here in Crysel's mind.