And We're called...

Douglas was standing in the door way, holding his hat brim, steely eyes sweeping the guild's foyer like a Watchog on Bravairy duty.

"Stap beenin' so rash Galai, you get in lotsa trouble that way."

And trouble is unhealthy. Douglas brooded. This little wannabe can be the death of herself, Ah ain't followin' so close on HER heels.

The guild foyar was cut into rock and lit by large torches. Pokèmon of every creed ran around in a seemingly aimless fashion, squawking commands to each other and calling out about "How good the Ludicolo chant was."

Douglas spat out the door. "Ah hate this place."

At least it looks nice

Molars pounding the grass stalk's end to a fiberious mush, he walked up to the impatient Ralts.

"Great balls of fire, what's yer hurreh anyway? This guild is once of the finest constructions Ah've ever seen. And Ah've seen many. Cut the 'shrew some slack if he want's ta look around afore he gets his face smashed by some unexpected happenin' you go and trigger."

"Well," Douglas mused, his hatted head appearing behind Galai. "Ah'd go and say we should try and see the master a this place. Kill two birds with one stone..." Douglas shrugged. It was awkward being with this girl. He didn't like her attitude or her approach. It was changing his approach.

Best drop the prissy fool ASAP. She'd only end up hurt anyways.

Douglas looked around. "Ain't this fantastical buildin' ever heard of 'signage'?"

Bemused, he sat back in the corner by the stairs. "Well girl? Yer guild, yer call. But Ah'd say find at least somebodeh who looks like they know what happens 'round here."

Cookie was just giving her official paw-mark on her registration form when her ears picked up some mumbling from the guild's foyer. She lightly hopped down the staircase to the lower floor, where a funny pair of pokemon were preparing to enter the fray of explorers. The Ralts carried itself with a deal of confidence, but the sandshrew...

Oh my god what a cool hat. she thought, her tail wagging back and forth on the lowest step of the staircase. She didn't know this fellow, but he just seemed so awesome. With her mind working in overdrive, she crafted a clever plan to snatch the hat and try to sap some of the rad-itude from this cool dude.

She hunched back and began to wiggle, ready for a greeting pounce. The ralts moved her had toward her mouth, and Cookie leaped forward, ready to swipe the headgear.

"TWEEEEEEEET!"

The ralts whistled loudly, distracting Cookie and skewing her trajectory. She crashed to the ground besides the sandshrew.

"Augh!" Cookie yelled, "Nooo! I wanted to be a country bumpkin with your hat."

Douglas exhaled long but softly as Galai made proclamation about her "abilities". He stopped actually listening when his birmed eye picked up a peculiarly possition Skitty near the entry way of the stairs leading to a level he and the Ralts had not yet been. Douglas made the quick summarization that it was either attempting to ease a itchy chin without removing its front paws from the ground or was about to pounce.

It's gotta be the first one. There ain't no one ta ponce at 'cept... Oh.

Douglas blinked with surprise as Galai whistled shrilly and the Skitty jumped towards him in the same moment. Followed his impulses, he did what he always did when not sure what to do. Douglas grabbed the brim of his hat, stepped his right leg back and twisted his shoulder into the oncoming threat. Worked in the sandstorms and hadn't failed him yet.

But the validity of this tactic wouldn't be tested today. The Skitty's aim was flawed and it landed in a crumpled heap next to Douglas' braced body.

Having failed the tremendous leap, the Skitty writhed about on the floor beside the Sandshrew, who had now stood to face her.

"Augh," the Skitty squeaked in a fashion Douglas found most irritating, "Nooo! I wanted to be a country bumpkin with your hat!"

Douglas picked up the Skitty by the scruff of the neck, she still too disoriented from her fall do avoid his powerful, dig trained grasp.

Douglas looked the Skitty dead in the eyes. "Why the hell is evereh person in this god forsaken place tryin' to make me madder than Gyarados woken by church bells on a Sunday mornin'?"

Douglas growled, shaking the Skitty like a rag doll. "Ah have one major rule, everythang else comes second. Do not. Touch. My treasure hat. Yous don't even know me and yer still tryin'. Ah swear, should..."

Douglas looked around, the subsequent events taking place after Galai's whistle had drawn all attention from her to him. It seemed hundreds of eyes stared at the now startled Sandshrew. Galai, still next to him, mouthed "Put it down."

"Uhh..." Douglas released his grip on the Skitty, who landed with a cloud of dirt at his feet. "Well, Ah swear you should apologize and then we can let bygones be bygones." The Skitty, groggy from its ordeal, lifted its head and mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Yeah, that's it, Ah forgive you too." Douglas made a show of patting the Skitty on the head and forcing a grin up at everyone. "See folks? We alls aces. We-"

It was at the point a quiet yet athoritive voice rang out. This vioce was not demanding attention, yet it could not be ignored. The guild master had arrived.

"Skiiiiii..." Cookie mewed, disoriented from the fall and from being shaken up somewhat fierce by the sandshrew. As he dropped her flat on the ground, the young skitty managed to squeak a quick word in.

"Whatever you say, mister hat." she let out with a winded gasp. She didn't care. Making a mental note that "the hat is a no-no", Cookie allowed herself to be patted on the head and rolled over onto her back.

"Good... night." Cookie mumbled.

A Meganium had wandered into the area having heard all the commotion from downstairs. She blinked, watching them for a moment before she decided to interject.
"And what's going on here?" she asked. Her voice wasn't exactly loud nor powerful, but there was something about it that made some of the guild members in the area shrink back slightly.

Douglas felt this was his cue to step forward. He physically stuttered a moment, unsure exactly how to proceed. It had been a long time before he had stood before someone of supposed authority. Even if he hadn't seen the reason for it yet. Settling on something, Douglas tipped his hat, but did not remove it.

“Aye, that’s my reason fer being here.” Douglas looked around at all the guild members.

Ah hate audiences...

“But afore we’s get ta that, could we move elsewhere? You gots an office or some place? Assumin' you'd permit us yer time."

The Meganium smiled, "Of course. Follow me!"
She then wandered back the way she had come, presumably leading the two to her room. Although it was her room it was also the room all the records were in and she supposed because of that it also doubled up as an office too.

They reached the room, Faye pushing open the door with a vine and welcoming the pair inside.
"I'm Faye," she said, realising she hadn't introduced herself earlier. She then stood, waiting for Douglas to explain what Pokemon he was looking for.

"Douglas." The Sandshrew said out of habit as he looked around the room. It was... Normal. Built out of the same materials as the rest of the guild, the office, for the want of a better word, was a spacious affair, the center dominated by a large wooden desk and seating arrangements. To the right of the desk was a large box. A leather strap hung over the side but Douglas was too short to learn of it's occupants.


To the extreme left a corridor lay, followed by a sharp turn. The treasure hunter's interest was peaked. He amused at what lay at the end, thinking of the value of the guild's spoils. But leaving the room and following the corridor when he was meant to be in audience with the guild master was probably considered uncouth. The final object of the room was a small bookcase, carrying books of identical make and colour.

Having surveyed the room completely, Douglas gave the guild master his full attention whom he now realized was looking at him some what expectingly.

What is it with the Pokèmon and their eyes 'round here. Is there somethin' in the water?"

"Noaw, as Galai said before, Ah'm lookin' fer... Somethin'..." Douglas trailed off, again realizing how much of a wild Swanna chase his journey was. Not that that was his fault.

"Well, somethin' is the best way ta explain it Ah suppose. It's a large, cloak wearin' desperado, though I ain't sayin' he's a wanted man. Well, other than by me. He has, in previous times, been a great help ta those he comes across, and I ain't heard nothin' bad from those that seen it. But I guess seen it is wrong." Douglas paused.

"Doya know of any beasts that be able ta cloak themselves an' their happenin's in winds a whirlin' sand? Everywhere Ah go, even when Ah saw him, they say he was followed by vicious desert winds filled with sand that stung even the Steelix's keen eyes."

Douglas let his story fade a bit before asking his question. "So Ah ask fer yer help. You hear of anythan' like that? Do you know where Ah can find it? Of anywhere else Ah should go?" He looked at the guild master expectantly, praying he was not, yet again, at a dead end.

Cookie shook her head, trying to clear up her stupor. What a hit! she thought, stars circling her aching noggin. Unfortunately, the missed jump failed to knock any sense into the little skitty, and she began to scamper after the guildmaster and her two new friends.

(They were all friends now. Obviously.)

Scooting along the floor with all the finesse of a groggy kitten, Cookie followed the trail of her cohorts, and ducked behind the legs of Faye, who towered over the tiny cat. She listened intently to Douglas' story--making careful note of this cloaked sandy fellow. Was he talking about something with sand stream? She could have sworn she had learned about the great beasts who spout sand into the air for a quick getaway...

Regardless, Cookie stood still, wagging her tail back and forth, waiting to see if anyone else knew anything.