POKÉMON SQUARE
A little east of Baram Town, just across Tiny Woods, lies the place where the pelipper sing. Watch them fly, bills filled with mail, to deliver the day’s work of the local Rescue Teams. While their wings carry them over the sheer cliffs and gentle rivers that flow into cascading waterfalls; take a moment to visit the elder whiscash, sleeping in his pond.
Or head south for the heart pounding regiments of Makuhita Dojo: Where trainees go in and sore bodies come out.
And be sure to visit all the shops in between to spread the joy across Pokémon Square!
Crrrrzzzt!
Electricity surged in time with the impact of fists. Beyond the dungeon’s watchful eye, a pangoro sneered in silent taunt. The receiving machoke’s growl caught on a quickly spat out tooth, sparks leaping from the impact sight.
“Expected a former guildie to put up more o’ a fight,” panted Machoke. “Unless…” A twisted grin. “Them rumours are true.”
Pangoro’s eyes narrowed, his composure wavering. “It’s your arm Boss will be makin’ a trophy of, not mine.” He readied his fists. “So shut up and fucking punch! A happiny hits harder than you.”
Machoke roared and the Electric Wasteland swelled.
Have you heard of the Mysterious Geoglyph? That odd dungeon a half a day’s walk away from the last Ancient City? Where odd insects made of metal prowl the winding stones. It’s said that they were built to defend the city from intruders. From extinction.
The lengths that such a proud race would go to in their desperation to survive fascinates me.
I have seen them for myself. Terrible things. A blast from the odd cannon on their backs could cleave an aggron in two. I can only wonder what drives them now that there is nothing left to defend.
Dark desolation was the abyss’ only offering. Umbreon’s fur bristled, sieged by vertigo. Against his better judgement, he’d looked over the edge after he and Espeon had momentarily shaken off their pursuers.
Umbreon’s mind was flying at a mile per minute, this dungeon was one of the deadliest he’d seen, an MR4 at the bare minimum. Another glimpse of the depths and a horrid feeling set in. MR5. A convergence point. If either of them were to fall here, then—
He couldn’t hear Espeon. Had she stopped? Why? Now was not the time to—
He looked back. She had vanished.
An eager nod met the sourceless voice. The spring’s welcoming light caressed the ruffled fur of a yamper who stood at its edge. He shook. From excitement, anticipation, the chill of early dawn? He couldn’t tell. All that he knew was that he was ready.
Emboldened steps disrupted shimmering water. The shock the cold brought did nothing to deter Yamper as he carried himself to the great tree of crystal and bark that watched over the forest like a nesting talonflame. The mysterious voice awaited him where the water was at its deepest.
“You… who seek awakening… Let us begin.”
Between the frozen mountains, formed from the frigid, twisting depths, exists a cathedral of ice. Its heart is the body, the resting place, of a once great dragon that nearly brought the world to its knees.
An altar for some, a tomb for others but a reminder for all who dare seek the dungeon’s heart.
Are they stories of an Ancient hero who saved the world from ruin? Or a cautionary tale of how despair worms its way into the hearts of even the most formidable of legends? Whatever the case may be, only emptiness lingers in these vaulted halls.
Skitty double checked the crude map. “You’re sure this is the right way?”
“Dead ends everywhere else,” reminded Squirtle.
“Right. The air just… feels thicker here.”
“Okay, ‘Miss Active Imagination’.”
“Yeah, well— Hey!”
Noticing the cave opening into a larger chamber, Squirtle pushed past Skitty. “Jackpot!” he laughed. “It’s a treasure trove!”
Skitty was about to protest but the words died on her tongue. Her stomach churned with dread at the banquet of poké, scarves, and gummis. No… this was…
“Squirtle, run! It’s—”
From their hiding spots, numerous aggressive wildren descended on the two unfortunate explorers.
“It’s a Monster House!”
LAKE OF MYSTERIOUS LIGHT
In a land long abandoned by all, obscured by thick fog, laid a mighty lake known only by whispered myths. Part of a triad, it shone with a light that instilled great resolve in all who bore witness. Now it remained muted in ruin and decay abandoned by all, even its stalwart guardian.
Dark waters pooled and spread influence, hidden away from all living things. The infected lakes grew stagnant, stopped only by deep mist. Blessed are the ignorant, for such a sight would make them weep.
None except the passing visitor, who rushes to meet the water that shrieks.
The leviathan awoke with an impatient grumble. His domain had been intruded upon. Again.
What is it now? he thought. A blessing? Council? Perhaps a challenge? Best to send them Ho-Oh’s way and call it a day.
Damned chosen heroes. Acting like they own the place. He’d have to move again for a few more decades of peace and quiet. And this shrine had been such a nice place! Much nicer than when it had existed above land lifetimes ago. They were right around the corner. Great.
Lugia spread his wings wide. Time for a battle that would inevitably disappoint.