Actual Travelling Experiences

Upon hearing Crysel's disapproval towards investigating the sound, Mordred could feel his inner conflict rise. His anger, fear, and urge to save whoever was distressed all meshed up into a rather unholy mix. He wanted, no, needed to rescue the source of that voice. That familiar, feminine, yet stern and mocking scream that made his head swirl. One moment, he could reclaim the memories linked to it clearly, but he was still unable to remember as they left as soon as they came. With a look of insecurity and shaking hands, he tried to decide whether he would obey his accomplice.

"NO!"

He didn't give the Sneasel a moment to respond. Turning on his heel, he made a dash through the halls. It was like a maze; what were a mere few halls started looking like a thousand, and the same could be said to how long it took to reach his destination. The scream died down much too early, which fueled his feet as he continued desperately searching. He continued frantically circling the mini maze, until finally detecting a very familiar stench. He looked down, being greeted by crimson spread about what had been a clean, shiny floor. His body began to tremble, followed by the racing beat of his heart. He took a step back, but he was met with a wooden wall. That was definitely not there earlier. He looked forwards, seeing once more the blood-stained floor which could barely be made out in the unnaturally dark hall. His eyes grew wide as he saw something shift in the shadows.

“Red?”

Mordred’s eyes shot open, followed by him sitting up all too quickly. His breath was in gasps, almost as if he had just returned from a rigorous fight. He took a moment to get air, his heart beating at an unhealthy rate. Once he regained composure, he began looking around. It seems he had woken up in the middle of a Marsh. He was luckily placed on a relatively dry patch just nearby the water. But then the stench got to him. He brought a hand up to his nose, coughing for a few times. What was that terrible smell?! He blinked a few times, before finally noticing the odd, purple-ish mist that shrouded the area. Were there Musharna nearby? No, Dream Mist was not this terrible- a bit powerful, but not in any way foul. Most likely this was gas excreted by Poison types.

The reptile staggered onto his feet, feeling ever so slightly nauseous at the putrid odor. He untied the red hood wrapped around his neck, moving it up to his face. The hood looked reminiscent of a bandana of sorts, one that was often used by one of those pitiful ‘gangs’. The dark type chuckled at the thought- him, a gang member? Truth be told, he’d actually most rather prefer going back to his clan than joining a bunch of foolish ‘wannabe’ kids. Ironic, in a way, as there had been quite a number of such gangs in his clan. Silly, silly, little children.

Once done tightening the knot behind his head, he began walking around. His feet made a disgusting squish as he walked around the wetlands. Soil was usually muddy when nearby large bodies of water, but even for a marsh, this was excessive. It was possible this area had been flooded numerous times in the past, which would explain how soft and mushy the earth was, but it still didn’t make the trip any less disgusting. He shuddered, not being too used to these types of terrain. Nearly all of his travels had been to forests and mountains, and because of this he had found solid ground much more preferable.

"You know, wandering in unfamiliar territory is one of the stupidest things you could do." The voice came from the right, belonging to Crysel the Sneasel. "I thought we agreed not to wander off alone. Its not safe to travel without an extra set of eyes." The Sneasel was a little messed up, a small bruise on her left cheek. She obviously been in a fight. She also felt a little ill thanks to the foul air, but she hid her sick feeling behind a cold look.

"Anyway, while I kept watch, I asked a local for directions. Long story short, we wanna go northwest to reach town. Should take a few hours. And for Arceus's sake, don't touch any food here. Only poison types can eat the food here without throwing it back up again." Crysel fell into step with Mordred, looking around as she continued to speak. "Were you attacked? I heard screaming."

Upon hearing a voice, Mordred instinctively went into a fighting position. With his hands curled into fists and positioned in a way that would allow for quick comebacks, he quickly turned to face the newcomer. His body relaxed upon seeing a familiar face, but immediately grew alert once more upon seeing her slightly battered state. Was she attacked while he was gone? Wait, was this pokemon even Crysel? He stood unresponsive for the while, fists still ready and alert. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make sure if the Sneasel in front of him was really his friend. The disgusting fog nearby was obscuring her slightly, but it was obvious it was her as she moved closer. He lowered his fists, but still felt threatened with the state his companion was in.

"Well, nice to see you too." He said, feeling slightly offended with her words but was nonetheless relieved to know that he hadn't been left on his own. Having to traverse such an unfamiliar terrain without company wasn't exactly something he thought he'd enjoy. "I think it's obvious enough from the toxins in the air that this place isn't safe for a picnic, but thanks for the heads up." He examined the ice type for a moment, briefly rubbing his eyes. Well, those injuries were definitely not a figment of his imagination.

He paused for a few seconds, puzzled at her question. Embarrassment dawned him when he thought of the possibility of him screaming awake. He was sure he hadn't, but after recalling how he'd been gasping for air he couldn't completely dismiss it. "No, no I wasn't. What about you though? You look like you came from a fight."

Crysel waved off the question about her. "Just a few pokemon who thought that I was an easy target. I quickly proved them wrong. The pokemon here are the type that hide and strike while your back is turned. Be careful and do not let your guard down." Crysel wasn't used to others asking about her well being it was a foreign concept to her really. So much time alone and she had forgotten what that was like. She did think of Mordred as a fellow pack member, but reliezed she knew very little about the fellow dark type.

As they continued on their way toward Grassveil, Crysel was thinking hard. How could she ask Mordred more about himself? How were you supposed to act? What were you supposed to say. Crysel had little to no social interaction in her life so she had very little practice in the matter. So she decided to be direct. "So Mordred, what is your story? Where do you come from and why are you here?"

Mordred snickered upon hearing that Crysel had given someone a good beating. He had only traveled with a few steel-nerved pokemon during his days as an explorer, and being reminded that he was in the presence of one only made him all the more eager to continue. Odd, as usually this would've made him anxious or afraid, especially since Crysel was an ice type. He was never fond of ice types, but it seemed he had forgotten that fact. Or maybe it was just the fact she was already a good acquaintance of his.

Their walk started off as silent as usual. Mordred was actually very glad about this, as he was never one to socialize. He could talk and be friendly, yes, but he could only keep that up for so long before slipping up and looking like an idiot. He frowned upon recalling the many instances that he had made a fool of himself. To make matters worse, he also had the tendency to be too harsh and insensitive which triggered some not very good outcomes with his relationships with others. Oh the glory of being socially ignorant.

He stopped in his tracks upon hearing the ice type's question. It came out of nowhere, like a hard slap to the face. He turned towards the Sneasel, furrowing his brows (or at least attempted to as he actually lacked them). It didn't look like a gesture of anger, but more of confusion and uncertainty. He didn't know why she would ask something so personal so abruptly. It could have been caused by curiosity, but that didn't make it any better. Memories he had buried were threatening to rear, only to be shaken off. "Well, I wanted to be an explorer. Came to Grassveil, signed up, and now here I am accompanying you." He said simply, hoping she wouldn't ask further.

Crysel could tell that Mordred was was hiding something. Probably something painful in the past. Despite her lack of social experience, Crysel recognized that immeadietely. She had her own painful experience...

"Crysel! watch your back!" Crysel heeded the warning of her fellow pack member and brought her claws to swipe at the Sneasel behind her. They were fighting a rival pack for the right to these hunting grounds. This happened a lot in this land. Little food, harsh life. It made pokemon do bad things to survive. Crysel swiped again and the Sneasel fell. She was only a kid like her and she... No. It was required to survive. No need to dwell on it.

The young Sneasel looked at the two battling packs and saw her's was losing. She had to do something. There was only one chance. Avalanche. Crysel took a deep breath and gathered energy before releasing it at the mountain by them. The shout let loose the piles of snow into a wave of snow and ice that came to them. Crysel shouted a warning to her pack and climbed a tree, the attack soon rushing right below her as she hanged on for dear life.

When it was all quieted, Crysel opened her eyes. She was the only one above the snow. She shook from shock. She never meant to hurt... What had she done?! "NOOOOOOOO!!!" With tears in her eyes, she ran away as fast as she could, refusing to look back. But there was no denying what she did...

Crysel understood pain alright. She wouldn't push further.

Mordred seemed to notice his companion's sudden silence. Her movements seemed to slow, as if she were suddenly no longer focused on moving forwards. Her face seemed to indicate that she had blanked out, staring into space with a distracted gaze. Well, not exactly, but rest assured the scraggy could see that she was preoccupied by her thoughts for that quick moment. He also seemed to skip a beat in his walk, not having expected the ice type's subtle, yet abrupt reaction.

"...Was it something I said?" He raised a brow, clearly puzzled. What he had said didn't seem all too off. He considered it rather convincing actually, having shown no signs of negative reaction... sort of. His earlier pause may have hinted on his lie. More regrets to pile up. But was she worried? Did she think he had done some sort of crime? No way, he had clearly told her he was an explorer. His behavior wasn't all that suspicious during that trip. Or at least, he hoped.

"Uh, I was just caught off guard by the question. What I said was sincere, honest!" He said defensively, not wanting to arouse any casualties. He mentally slapped himself upon realizing how suspicious he sounded. How wonderfully ironic. Wait, what if it was empathy? Did he really just mistake empathy with doubt?

Crysel waved off the unneeded paranoid apologies from Mordred. "You don't need to explain yourself Mordred. I understand. I respect your privacy, especially when it comes to painful matters in the past. You aren't the only one who has done terrible things or had terrible things happen to them. Try to relax and stayed focused." The Sneasel let out a cough, more like a hack. But she acted like it was nothing. "Its hard enough without the added trouble of the air here."

Something was watching them, Crysel could feel it. It was that feeling you get when the hair stands up on the back of your neck. Like danger was targeting you, stalking you, hunting you. She didn't know what it was, but Crysel was already ready to strike when necessary. Then, all of a sudden, it lept out at Crysel who had a sudden bit of dizziness which left her vulnerable to its sneak attack.

This dice is not existing.

Mordred couldn't help but frown upon realizing that the sneasel had indeed called out his bluff. Well, so much for having the ability to lie. So far, he couldn't carry conversations or give false information. His repertoire in social situations seemed to be diminishing every second, but at the moment he considered that the least of his issues. His companion was already aware of the terrible past of his, or at least seemed to know he had one. Luckily he hadn't given any further information, but knowing this ice type's keen eye and his idiotic tendencies, it wouldn't be long before she found out. That fact alone gave him chills.

"...Right." He said, not knowing how to reply. Although he felt more conscious now that earlier, he still took comfort in the fact the sneasel had also experienced a very dastardly history. So far, he had met pokemon who didn't display any signs of bad experiences, which only lessened his opportunity to empathize with them. Crysel seemed to share his grief, and he was lucky enough that she had enough sense not to prod further. Her coldness didn't exactly help him acknowledge her as any more than a traveling companion, but he didn't complain. His clan could still be on the move to kill him off, and making close connections would only worsen his situation.

The scraggy nearly fell back when he suddenly saw a green blur pop out from the tainted waters, ramming its body at the ice type without warning. The green attacker attempted to cling to the sneasel, using its mouth to grab hold of one of her limbs. It seemed to be a Gulpin, pitiful green blobs that were known to reside in putrid areas. They were well-known to be gluttons, with powerful digestive systems that would absorb anything it ate in a matter of seconds. What made them worse was that they had the ability to use poison-fueled attacks. The fighting type couldn't help but scrunch his face in disgust, already picking up the disgusting odor that clung to the green pokemon. He wasn't sure if it was caused by its poisonous aspects or by its habitat.

"Cry, don't move too much! That Gulpin could poison you if provoked!" He said, trying to remember his lessons about poison types. They were more susceptible to ground and psychic, which meant his and possibly Cry's attacks wouldn't be of much effect. If they tried to use brute force, it would most likely emit extremely toxic fumes that would make the situation all the more dire.

Crysel knew nothing about Gulpins, but she had enough sense to listen to what Mordred was saying. Laying on the ground thanks to the weight of the poison type, she relaxed and looked straight in the eyes of the Gulpin. It was a small trick when spotted by another pokemon. Calmly looking into the eyes of another pokemon, not looking away and not moving your body. It was feeling the calm before the storm, not wanting to make a move to disturb the other pokemon. Still she was still in a spot.

She called out to Mordred. Her voice was monotone and calm to avoid startling the other pokemon. "I cannot do anything but hold its attention right now. If I make a move, it will probably damage me to the point I will be crippled. Also, I am feeling dizzy. I am barely focusing. If you can do something, I suggest you do it now...I feel hot all over I think I have a fever." Crysel did not look good. She was obviously sick.

Mordred was beginning to panic - badly. Crysel's body was looking limp. The Gulpin continued to cling, stubborn yet relaxed as it drained the ice type's energy. The Sneasel's reaction had luckily not triggered it, allowing it to continue its slow pace. However, that still didn't eliminate the risk. It could exert a gas of poison at any moment now if there was so much as a single alerting step.

His mind rushed as it attempted to look for a solution. None of his moves would be effective enough to knock the Gulpin unconscious. Poison Types were surprisingly resistant to Fighting moves, and their known weaknesses were Ground and Psychic attacks. He needed to get it away from his acquaintance in one fell swoop, else they would both be poisoned. But what else could he do to get rid of - And, like a spark, an idea finally hit him.

He drew close to the green blob as quietly as possible, trying not to alert it of his presence. Gulping, the scraggy raised his arm. He swung it down with as much force and speed as he could muster, grabbing the Gulpin's feather-like adornment. It seemed he had used just enough force, triggering a rather loud squeal from the blob which loosened its grip. It released its poisonous gas impulsively, but the reptile had thrown it as quick as he had grabbed it. It flung into the air, leaving a growing trail of toxic air behind it. The disgusting toxic spores spread about like mist, advancing towards the two.

"MOVE!" Mordred said, urging the dark type to run. The poisonous cloud would reach them in a second if they wouldn't hightail it out of there immediately.