Reality's Beginning

The dewdrops fell in a localized shower around hatted head of the adventurer. Picking of Pecha in the early sun was not without its risks. Douglas felt his nose splattered with cold, recoiling at the sensation. He grunted, wiping his snout as the irritant did as it does and irritated the hell out of him.

The soft berry he now clasped in his paw, however, was worth the indignation. The soft fuzz of the plant’s bounty glinted with dew and appeared as a faint aura of yellow in the sun. Yes, the prize was well merited. Douglas felt himself smile as he slipped the berry up into the small faded bag he had slung over his shoulder.

The sandshrew continued his trek. His mind wandered, has had become common. Who was his saviour? How could he find him? What power did the creature wield? What sort of magic enabled the summoning of a sandstorm? Douglas was awoken from his daydream as a berry dropped from an overhanging tree. His body snapped into a shielded ball, his back legs propelling him away from the area of impact. After three revolutions, the treasure hunter popped into the air, uncoiling to get a good look at his surroundings. The fallen berry had landed a foot to the left of his previous position, as had what Douglas personally considered a veritable torrent of water. The site directly above had a bemused spinarak gazing longingly at its fallen treat from a now swaying branch, set in motion by the recently liberated berry. Douglas cursed his foolishness; not being alert gets one killed out in the big wild world. Even in a place as ‘tame’ as Pecha Forest, predators lurked.

Now filled with worry, Douglas took note of distant noise somewhere off in the distance. The armadillo pivoted his ears, pinpointing a direction. Cautiously, he followed, stalking low through the underbrush, now heedless to the dew. He came upon a cubone, seemingly have an internal conflict. Douglas laughed inwardly in spite of himself; it occurred to him he hoped it was about his ridiculous getup of a cape and a hat. He looked like a child playing magic. Douglas shifted to get a better look, the accursed dew refracting light, causing a rainbow to glint into his eyes, something he found most frustrating. It seemed that everything water bound was against him.

He watches quietly.

"Magic..." Douglas felt rather then heard himself whisper, so quiet was the sound.

Magic. This Pokemon knows magic, or seems to know of it. Perhaps I can use him.

Douglas sank lower into the moist underbrush. Was magic even possible? Were his suspicions on curses from temples he had heard of correct? Were some places indeed cursed? Such an idea of an invisible, unavoidable danger gave the treasure hunter a deep feeling of fear within his stomach. The paranoia mounted, yet he quickly pushed it to one side.

It was irrational.

This cubone may yet still be a child or even delusional.

But magic...

Magic.

An intoxicating idea. The fear of the unknown. The ability to find and thank his savior. Power to shape the weather, the weather mask and all those legends that influenced Douglas' choice of profession... They could all have a kernel of truth.

The possibilities sent his mind reeling. He could summon the legendary dogs and race across the land, fly with the birds of the rainbow. Magic would let him explore unfathomable lands that had never felt the foot of a living being.

But magic isn't real.

Douglas felt his childlike fantasy shatter like the obsidian in the caverns below the mountains. He shook his head. Such folly.

"Still..." the sandshrew breathed. "This cubone may know somethin'. Ah'll follow an' see..."

The ground type stalked after the ambling magician, not quite sure what to expect.

The member 'Dicearm' has done the following action : Dices Roll

'encounter rarity' : 8

Douglas' mind raged on with his internal struggle as he quietly tread in the cubone's wake. Was magic a possibility? He knew of psychics and their ilk, and had encountered many ghost types in his travels but magic... This was something more. He knew it could not be, yet he felt that somewhere...

He had to stop kidding himself. And kidding himself was the right word. It is a childish thought. Indeed something he thought of as a child. But with the appearance of his secret benefactor, he who arrived clocked in the raging winds of dirt and grit of the desert sun, the sandshrew had been experiencing doubts that things were as he had been told. Magic was dead to him and his kind forever they said. It was restricted to trickery and stage acts. The abilities of psychic and the nymphs of darkness could be explained through obvious physical and mental properties. Elements and chemistry and physics. His talk with the temple goddess gardevoir had be as enlightening.

And yet. Yet somewhere he could feel it again. Just as he could in his youth.

But his youth had been left behind long ago. And this frantic fantastical thought was distracting him.

Douglas need to focus so his regimented mind absorbed his surroundings. They were deep in Pecha forest now. These paths were those less traveled. The stantler tracks. Perhaps this cubone was on the way to some sort of wizard convention.

Or was mentally addled.

As the fog rolled in, Douglas wasn't sure if the fact the cubone was unperturbed was a reinforcement for the former or the latter. And then he saw it. The cubone casually flicked out a rock. This was followed with a practiced flourish and the stone was ignited in a ghostly purple radiance.

The treasure hunter felt his lower jaw separate ever so slightly from it's usual clenched position next to his upper set of teeth.But reality forced Douglas to forever be the cynic.

I am having my vision impaired by a thick mist whilst in an unknown location. This proves nothing.

But why is it so eerily familiar? Is he a spirit caller?

But for the second time today, Douglas' lack of motivation to focus on his surroundings  resulted in ambush. A rustle of landing feathers and the snapping of twigs resulted in the armadillo turning to come face to face with a somewhat unhappy male tranquill.

"Great balls O' fire..."

Douglas glanced over his shoulder at the cubone, he watching the unfolding events with a look of terror in his eyes. Or something. The mask made it difficult to tell. The tranquill announced its displeasure with a squawk and dove at Douglas, it's beak driving into the air where the adventure had recently been standing.

Douglas slid back, adjusting his hat as he skid to a place next to the cubone, who had still not moved.

Mentally addled then

"You better 'ave a plan, conjurer." Douglas drove back the wild bird with a clap about it's beak, his heavy digging paw shaking the aggressive flier.

As the sandshrew drove forward, taking up the offensive, he called back to the cubone. "Ah can hold it away fer you. But yer gonna have ta do somethin' cool. 'nd for the love of Arceus do it fast."

Douglas grimaced and pulled down on his hat. If this dude runs, he will be followed to the ends of the earth. And no one knows the earth better then this hunter.

It was.

"This kid's got talent!" Douglas called out as he lunged at the blinded bird of prey. Douglas sunk his small but sharp teeth into the tranquill's unprotected neck, injecting his poison. The sightless flying type thrashed with fear, it's eyes wide beneath the cubone's skull mask. It squawked and threw about it's wings as it and the clinging armadillo crashed to the ground in an explosion of feathers.

The tussle slowed as the venomous cocktail supplied by the sandshrew took affect and finally Douglas stood from the crippled predator. He watched the tranquill quietly as it's breathing slowed.

Douglas let himself exhale and rubbed his finger over his mouth, his back still to the magician. "That was quite a trick you pulled..." He shuffled somewhat awkwardly. "Do you wanna put yer mask back on? Ah... Uh, never met a cubone who would just up an' take it off. So Ah don't know if you want me ta look at ya. Uh, you ok?"

Douglas felt somewhat awkward looking at the, what he considered, a nude cubone. “Naw, he ain't dead.” The treasure hunter nudged the fallen tranquill with his foot, causing it to stir slightly. “He dyin' though.” Douglas felt himself chuckle deep inside his throat at the joke.

The sandshrew paced about the bird a moment before he came to a stop in front of its head. “Fella was only protectin' his matin' rights. Then we stroll on through. Or you do. What are you doin' out here?” Douglas knelt before the grounded avian, removing his backpack. The adventurer popped the strap and removed a pecha berry he had risked a mild dampness for earlier. He split the berry down neatly into halves and chewed one into a pulp which he spat out into his hand.

Douglas pointed to the cubone. “’ere. Grab him and turn him up. He needs the gravity. Actually I prolly didn't have to chew this but it’ll be easier for him.” The two ground types tilled the weakly flapping tranquill so that it sat belly up. Using one digging paw, Douglas lifted his foe's head and scraped the pecha mash down into its wheezing gullet.

The armadillo grunted and began to rub the bird's neck, encouraging it to down the antidote. “Grab the other piece an' rub it on the wound here.” Douglas indicated a small ring of bleeding marks that were staining the avian neck feathers. “Ah'm Douglas, by the way... What did you say you were doin'?”

Douglas nodded. "Sebastian."

Fitting for magic.

Douglas dropped the birds head back to the ground and stood. "That'll do there. You can stop now." The sandshrew sniffed. "Ah hate fog. Lets go back."

The treasure hunter moved to go, but paused to observe the cubone. "Yer new. You ain't ever seen a fight in yer shut in life huh? You alright?" The sandshrew looked genuinely concerned. This cubone seemed like little more then a kid.

Douglas felt like chastising the cubone. Foolish and irresponsible. He was the sort the put others in danger by needing help. This cubone had no experience of just about anything it seemed. A real shut in.

Despite this, he uncharacteristically held his tongue, particularly after hearing the word 'magic' issue from the smaller ground types mouth.

"Hey now, yer talkin' magic. Surely that's somethin' great?" Douglas shrugged. "Ah like the idea of that. Can you... Can you tell me about it?"

Douglas felt surprisingly expectant as he lead the cubone back through the brush. He felt the slight buzz he associated with his temple raids when he had finally located his true prize.

Maybe this cubone is who I've been waiting for. Maybe he can take me to the sandcaller.