A possibly joyless cause

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Black Mist Mountain. As the name implied, a black mist was prevalent in the higher sections of the giant slab of stone which reached into the sky above. Who would have guessed? Thick, heavy and smog-like as it clung to the air above like some sort of infectious gas, its nightly body tainting the mountain and causing many chills to shiver down many spines. The sky was, as to be expected, blocked out from this sinister gas up above. Of course, within the Northeastern Mountains, that terrifying mountain was not the only one. Other spires of stone circled its mighty leader like a ritualistic circle, or perhaps as a warning to keep curious adventurers away from its deep, dark depths. Ha, needless to say it never worked. The treasures within always lured explorers inside.

Early morning, the sun cracking open dawn as it rose higher and higher into the sky above, the faint cooing and chirping of roosted bird pokemon singing the morning a hello. Yet one pokemon in particular payed this no heed, nor did it care for such traditional greetings to the sun. A purple mist, connected to a little brown stone, dragged its way to this terrifying black-stained mountain. A spiritomb. Her body but a thick, swirling vortex of purple, with emerald orbs circling the central face - a jagged grin and crescent eyes with swirled pupils. Below her was that stone, with an unusual lightning-like pattern, her mist body protruding outwards from the little crack in the stone. A keystone, in fact, which bounded this pokemon to this realm through the use of a powerful spell.

It traveled empty-handed, and that may possibly be due to the lack of hands. It also traveled alone, which was both concerning and awfully brave considering the location, and it was not a location where one would go for a nice, lovely stroll. But the spiritomb needed something from this mountain. It needed equipment. It needed power. And, for some odd reason, the smog which plagued the atmosphere up above calmed it. The ghost-type followed the path onwards, keystone dragging against the dirt road, towards the spires which pierced the sky.

The forbidden ghost followed shortly behind the two, that little brown keystone lazily dragging from behind her as the ethereal mist-like body pulled it along, brushing past the occasional leaves in her path which had resisted the red beast's movement, the path in front certainly a lot more clear after its lumbering, thick body wavered through the undergrowth. The sneasel, Ko assumed, was scouting ahead for danger. Did the little runt know more of the mountains? Or was it simply too stupid to consider, just for a moment, what safety was? At least if they heard its screams, there was danger that way. Perhaps she would consider catching a glimpse of the mauling just to laugh at how better she was.

She said nothing through the journey there, but occasionally did the ghost mutter to herself every now and again in a low tone, that jagged grin sometimes jittering with hushed speech; those many many whispers debating, contemplating, plotting. An unusual ghost, a spiritomb. There were so many ideas, so many thoughts running through their minds that it was impossible to tell what they would do, usually. Would they deceive? Would they befriend? It was like a council, in a strange sense. Except rather than vote on the decision, it was simply a matter of what was screamed the loudest.

She took a glance to the side, noticing the forest becoming more and more dwindled, and the rocky holes and the occasional crevice within the ground becoming more prevalent as time went by and as the group moved on. Leaves were replaced with gravel, trees were replaced with stone spires. Many, many opportunities for an ambush. Who knows what would be waiting for them? ...Well of course they were waiting, the rumbling monstrosity in front was causing enough ruckus for anything to expect them.

Proteus continued along with the group, his tail tailing behind the entire group due to his sheer length. The gyarados tried to make as little noise as possible, since he did not want to attract the unwanted attention of feral pokemon. His eyes scanned the floor around him, searching for items, or possibly any signs of an attack. Strong feral pokemon would be common in this area due to the danger that shrouded his area. It would be difficult to climb up the sloped mountain, since slopes usually cause trouble for the gyarados that he usually resolved by "stepping" over to the top which just meant skipping the slope entirely. He wouldn't be able to do that here, and it would be even harder for the pokemon with legs and the pokemon with seemingly no legs or limbs at all!
His thoughts about the difficulty were interrupted by a grumbling sound...

This dice is not existing.

This dice is not existing.

(scuze le crappy post)