From: "Chet Weaver - Chicks Dig Giant Robots" <zeroohki@netscape.net> Subject: [PW] Scenic Mt. Pyre Date: Wednesday, September 08, 2004 1:50 PM A lazy fog caressed the moonlit city as Pokémon Ranger Sam “Ace” Adamson leaned against the guardrail on the roof of the Lillycove Department Store. Behind him, three of his Pokémon: Zubat, Numel, and Mickey the Poochyena, were enjoying the sodas he bought them from the nearby soda machine. His fourth, Artemis the Ralts, remained within her PokéBall on Sam’s belt. Nearby, a young woman was enjoying a similar view of the city lights, completely unaware that the Pokémon Ranger nearby was in fact Mason “Mace” Adams, a grunt-level member of the infamous ideological organization Team Magma. “You sure you don’t want a soda?” Mason asked. “Pardon?” inquired the young woman nearby. “Huh?” Mason replied. “Oh, sorry. I was talking to my Ralts.” “Your Ralts?” the young woman noted, trying to find a fourth Pokémon and understandably failing. “Oh, she’s in her PokéBall,” Mason explained. “They’re psychic, you know? She can communicate with me even from inside her PokéBall. Well, when she’s feeling communicative.” Mason winced slightly. He put a couple fingers up to his forehead and added, “Or, in this case, vindictive. She’s been giving me headaches and disturbing mental images since the other night.” “Now I know where I’ve seen you before!” the young woman exclaimed. “You were competing in that Cute Pokémon Contest the other night! You made the top eight in the appeals round, but your Ralts totally turned on you in your match against Ten. What happened?” “I promised her she wouldn’t have to fight,” Mason answered. “But I didn’t realize there’d be a combat round. So, when I sent her out against Ten’s Growlithe, she got upset.” Of course, that was only half the story. Months ago, Mason had rescued Artemis from Team Magma’s breeding program, but the Ralts had been less than appreciative. Anything less than total freedom had been anathema to her, and she’s had it out for Mason ever since. Mason had been trying to gain her trust and show her that he wasn’t as bad as the rest of Team Magma, but never had he failed so terribly as that night. The contest was the first enjoyable event she experienced since she hatched in Team Magma’s secret base, but the experience was tainted by being forced to do what she swore never to do: Fight on behalf of a member of Team Magma. “That’s terrible,” the young woman said sympathetically. “I should’ve just dropped out when she asked me to,” Mason continued. “I guess I just let my drive for victory blind me to the needs of my Pokémon.” That was not totally true. Had it been just a simple battle, Mason would’ve conceded when Artemis asked. The fact of the matter was that Ten knew information about Mason’s past that he lost when he was stricken with amnesia. Mason wasn’t able to get much out of him, but he could tell that what Ten knew was contrary to the little that Team Magma told him. When he inquired to his superiors about his past, he was only given the most general of information. They wouldn’t even tell him about his original set of Pokémon that had to be quarantined when he entered the country. They claimed he had to remember on his own; if they told him everything, it would only serve to create false memories that he never had before. Mason was beginning to suspect that frontloading was the least of Team Magma’s concerns about his memory loss. “Well, hopefully, you’ll be a little more careful in respects to your Pokémon’s feelings,” the young woman said, admonishing Mason. Her wristwatch suddenly startled them with a shrill tone. She checked the time and hastily picked up her bag. “Oh, my, I’m going to be so late! I have to get going!” Before she could dash for the stairs, Mason said, “Wait! Can you tell me about that mountain over there?” “The mountain?” The young woman looked where Mason was pointing. She could barely see it in the haze and darkness, but it was a well-known part of Lillycove’s skyline. To Mason, however, it stood out like a beacon in the night. “That’s Mt. Pyre,” the young woman explained. “It’s a Pokémon cemetery, but it’s also the home of the Red and Blue Orbs.” “The Red and Blue Orbs?” Mason inquired. “They say the Red and Blue Orbs contain a mystic power that maintains the natural balance,” the young woman continued. “And if they’re ever separated, it could cause the end of the world. Team Magma and Team Aqua stole them once and almost destroyed everything!” “You don’t say,” Mason remarked. “I’m sorry, I’d love to stay and chat, but I really have to get going,” the young woman said apologetically. “Bye.” The young woman disappeared down a nearby stairwell, leaving Mason alone with his Pokémon to stare ponderously over the evening fog. Mason glanced at his Zubat as the bat-like creature hung upside down from the rail and drained a can of Toka Cola with her fangs puncturing the can. “Mt. Pyre, huh?” Mason commented. #Are you going over there?# Artemis telepathically inquired from within her PokéBall. “Mt. Pyre calls to me,” Mason replied. He knelt down and up-turned a can of Pomeg juice into a small dish in front of his Numel. “Don’t ask me to explain it. I feel like I must go there and find something.” #Your miscreant Team Magma instincts are probably telling you to steal the Red Orb,# Artemis accused. In a more sarcastic tone, she added, #And now what little humanity you have is telling you to leap off this roof for the good of all mankind.# Mason ignored the comment and asked his Numel, “You know anything about Mt. Pyre or the Orbs, Numel?” “Numel, numel,” the small, camel-like Pokémon replied unhelpfully. “Right,” Mason said, realizing that precious few Pokémon actually speak a human language. “Artemis, you wanna give me a hand here?” #You wanna go stuff yourself?# Artemis remarked. After a moment, she sighed reproachfully and said, #Numel says that the Orbs were deemed too dangerous for Team Magma’s purposes.# “That says a lot, coming from a cult that wants to dry up the oceans,” Mason remarked. He pulled three PokéBalls from his belt and pointed them at his Pokémon. “Zubat, Mickey, Numel, return.” Red beams lanced out from the balls, enveloped the Pokémon, and drew them within. “Still, it might be a good idea to check out Team Magma’s folly,” Mason mused. #You know, if you want to get there quick, you could start by jumping off he building,# Artemis suggested hopefully. “Base jumping, huh?” Mason noted. “Sounds like a lark.” Mason looked down to ground level, taking into account all seven floors beneath him. “On second thought, I’m in no hurry,” Mason decided quickly. “I’ll just take the stairs.” A short walk out of town and a ferry ride later, Mason found himself at the foot of Mt. Pyre. The fog was much thicker here, as if unwilling to part with dead held within the mountain. Having divulged it’s passengers to the narrow strip of shore, the ferry seemed to fade from existence. The whole of this shadowy world was but a few feet in any direction. What wasn’t rock was water, which reminded Mason of the legend that said that spirits couldn’t move over it. He had to wonder if the citizens of Lillycove had reason to fear their dead and most likely cremated pets. The entrance to Mt. Pyre’s cavern stood before him. Had the entrance been sentient, it probably wouldn’t have felt the need to do anything fancy like looming. It had a great deal of confidence that its costars, fog and silence, would cover all that was needed to make a large hole in the wall seem as inevitable and final a destination as death itself. Unlike some Pearly Gates it knew, which put in a great deal of over-acting with its over-the-top massiveness and flagrant glittering. Those two wouldn’t know subtlety if it bit them on the hinges. Mason walked right through the cavern entrance, just barely acknowledging the gloomy atmosphere. The interior was just as one would expect of a giant mausoleum. It was all stone blocks and arches with small gravestones indicating whose remains were contained beneath them. This masterpiece of gothic masonry was poorly lit by the torches placed intermittently along the walls and illuminated the loose layer of fog that hugged the ground. The air was rife with spiritual activity as ghosts in various forms fluttered about the chamber, sneaking through gravestones, startling the occasional visitor and fighting with the odd adventurer. One ghost, looking like a black handkerchief draped over a baseball, popped up in front of Mason and made a loud shriek. Unimpressed, Mason walked right through the specter and ascended some nearby stairs. There were a number of levels inside of Mt. Pyre. Each floor was evidently painstakingly crafted with great care, but the same was not so apparent with the arrangement of the gravestones. It seemed that over time the dead had managed to gather in such away that they formed simple mazes across the floor and occasionally formed barriers around sections of the floor that had become shortcuts to the lower levels. The paths through some floors effectively doubled the distance from one side to the other. #Are we going to be here much longer?# Artemis telepathically inquired. “Getting scared, are we?” Mason asked back. #No,# Artemis replied. #I’m just... bored. I don’t want to look at old, creepy, h-haunted, stone buildings all day.# “You can’t be bored if you’re scared,” Mason commented. “And you have good reason to be. You’re vulnerable to ghost attacks. If you got away from me, you’d never make it out alive.” #I-I kn-new that,# Artemis stated. #I can take on any of these g-g-ghosts n-no problem.# “I didn’t think it was possible to stutter telepathically,” Mason noted. #I’m not stuttering!# Artemis exclaimed defensively. #I’m just-# “Scared witless,” Mason finished for her. #W-well, why shouldn’t I be!?” Artemis demanded. #This place is dreadful! It’s dark and creepy and full of ghosts! Why the Hell aren’t YOU scared!?# “I don’t get scared,” Mason explained. “I welcome danger. The rush it gives me is empowering. Nothing scares you when you know it can’t hurt you.” #Tauros-hockey!# Artemis snapped. #I don’t know what I’m sensing from you, but your gusto isn’t coming from a lack of fear. You’re not even creeped out. It’s like you belong here or something!# “Maybe I do,” Mason replied with an eerie calm. “Maybe I’m dead.” There was a tense silence for a moment as Mason navigated around the various tombstones. After a while, Mason chuckled to himself. #That wasn’t funny!# Artemis scolded. “Oh, I wish I could’ve seen your face,” Mason chortled. “It must’ve been priceless!” #Let me out of here and I’ll show you priceless!# threatened Artemis, shaking her PokéBall violently. “It takes a disturbed individual to laugh in a graveyard at midnight,” said an assertive, feminine voice. Up on a terrace Mason saw a young woman dressed as a witch. She wore a dark, purple cloak adorned with grayish PokéBall logos and a pointed hat. Mason had seen other girls dressed similarly on the way up and knew from a conversation with one of them that they called themselves “Hex Maniacs.” He thought it was a rather interesting play on words, although when he brought it up the girl had no idea what he was talking about. “Laughing breaks tension,” Mason informed as he climbed a nearby set of stairs up to the terrace. “If anything, it’ll maintain your sanity. If you take this place too seriously, it’ll kill ya.” “I suppose there’s a certain truth to that,” the Hex Maniac replied. “What brings you to this morbid place?” “I thought I’d check out the Red and Blue Orbs,” Mason explained. “I’m a bit of a mythology buff. I hear they have power over the forces of nature. Is that true?” “I wouldn’t know,” the Hex Maniac answered. “I’ve never been here before.” “Oh, really?” Mason noted coyly. “Then what brings you to this morbid place?” “I’ve come looking for you,” said the Hex Maniac. Her tone became more hostile as she added, “Magma Grunt Mason Adams.” Mason blinked. He looked around, pretending to be surprised, and gave the Hex Maniac a confused look. “Me?” he asked. Waving his hands defensively, he added, “You must be mistaken. I’m not with Team Magma. I’m a Pokémon Ranger. The name’s Sam Adamson.” “Don’t give me that!” the Hex Maniac spat. “I know exactly who you are! I’ve chased you all the way from the Orre region, and there’s no mistaking you! And for Chrysler’s sake, come up with some better aliases! Anyone can see it’s just an anagram of your real name!” Mason grunted in annoyance, turned his hat and jacket inside out, and put them back on as the common Team Magma hooded windbreaker. “I thought it was rather clever, myself,” Mason said. “Of course, I would’ve gone with ‘Sadam Nasom,’ but I didn’t think I’d be able to pull of the Middle-Eastern thing. But you seem to have me at a disadvantage, miss...?” The Hex Maniac tore off her cloak and hat, revealing a black bandana, red shirt, and low-slung pants. “Miss…?” Mason prompted again, partially out of lack of familiarity. “Dammit, Adams!” the young woman cursed. “I’m the Chaser that’s been tracking you since you were just a thug in Pyrite Town!” “Ah, yes,” Mason said, feigning recognition. “All you Chasers look the same to me. I’ve been chased by so many, they all just seem to blur together.” “What!?” the Chaser exclaimed as if betrayed by a lover. “Who else has been chasing you?” “Too many to count, too few to mention,” Mason answered cryptically while examining his fingernails casually. “Oh, but I was thinking of you the whole time.” “That’s it!” the Chaser declared, punching a nearby wall so hard it practically dented. “You may have evaded those other Chasers, but I’m the one that’ll bring you to justice!” She grabbed a PokéBall off her belt and tossed it to the floor. “Go, Arbok! Use Poison Fang, now!” In a flash of white light, a giant, purple cobra materialized in front of Mason. He barely dodged its lunge, the monster’s bite taking a chunk out of the stone railing behind him. Mason slid down the stone banister and leapt off onto a gravestone some yards away. “Wrap him, Arbok!” the Chaser commanded. “Shaw-boka!” the Arbok confirmed. As the giant snake slithered swiftly down the stairs, Mason reviewed his options. He was told he was one of Team Magma’s best trainers, which meant that he old team was pretty tough. As such, this Chaser was most likely prepared with a whole team of Pokémon that would most likely be just as tough, if not tougher. Unfortunately, Mason’s old team was quarantined and his current team practically had training wheels on. That meant fighting was out. Artemis could teleport, but even if she felt like cooperating she wasn’t powerful enough to leave the building. That left one option. “Gotta fly!” Mason called out as he dashed across the tops of the tombstones. “Oh no you don’t!” the Chaser shouted, leaping from the terrace. “You’re not getting away that easy! Arbok, block the exit!” In a flash, the Arbok was between Mason and the stairs leading down. He glanced back and saw the Chaser standing behind him. “It’s no use, Adams,” the Chaser said. “We’re on the top floor. You’re not going anywhere. Arbok, restrain him with your Wrap attack.” The Arbok lunged at Mason and he charged at the Chaser. The Chaser prepared for an attack, but instead Mason vaulted over her shoulders, landed behind her, and hit the ground running. The Chaser turned to chase him, but the Arbok crashed into her and entangled her. Mason dashed across the room and found what he was looking for. He turned back to the Chaser and her Arbok and said, “You know, I had a real blast. I’ll be sure to drop you a line!” With that, he dropped through the hole in the floor behind him. Sure enough, there was another hole a few yards away. The Chaser and her Arbok dropped in just in time to see him drop through another hole. A couple floors later, a conundrum presented itself to Mason. “Two holes?” Mason noted. “Imagine that. Artemis, I don’t suppose one leads to my certain doom?” #What am I, psychic?# Artemis replied. “Uh, yeah,” Mason answered snippily. #Well, that doesn’t mean I can see the future or anything,# Artemis informed. #You’re on your own, Magma boy.# “Now I’ve got you!” the Chaser declared as she and her Arbok dropped from the ceiling. “Arbok, Poison Sting!” The Arbok launched a barrage of needles from its mouth as Mason raced for the nearest hole. One needle caught him in the ankle and the sudden shock sent him tumbling. He cracked his head against the far edge of the hole as he dropped through. “Jeebus Chrysler!” the Chaser exclaimed. “I think we hurt him!” “Shaw-boka?” her Arbok questioned incredulously. “Well, not like that!” the Chaser answered defensively. “You know what I mean! Let’s see if he’s alright. I don’t want him to get killed or anything.” The Chaser and her Arbok dropped down, careful not to land on Mason’s body. He lay with his head propped up against a gravestone. “He looks okay,” the Chaser said. “He’s unconscious, but otherwise fine. Maybe I should check for a concussion or...” Before the Chaser’s eyes, a gray, translucent egg gently rose out of Mason’s chest. “Oh, no! I killed him after all!” the Chaser wailed. “His soul has escaped from his body and is reincarnating before my very eyes as a Ghost Pokémon! I gotta get it back in before its too late!” The Chaser tried put her hands on the egg, but they just moved through it. “I can’t touch it!” the Chaser cried. “I’ll need to find a Channeler or something!” Hair-line fractures began to form on the egg’s shell. “No, don’t hatch!” the Chaser shrieked. “Don’t hatch don’thatchdon’thatch! For the love of Goddish, please don’t hatch!” “Huh, what’s going on?” Mason asked sleepily as he began to sit up. “Zombie!” the Chaser screamed. “Holy crud, calm down,” Mason replied. “I just hit my head, like, twice. I’m fine.” “So, you soul hasn’t escaped and is reincarnating as a Ghost Pokémon?” the Chaser asked fearfully. “Hell no,” Mason answered. “Only Pokémon become Ghost Pokémon. I thought everyone knew that.” “Then what’s that?” Chaser asked, carefully poking at the egg in front of Mason. “This?” Mason inquired. He grabbed the still-hatching egg and surprisingly turned it around in his hands. “Just some egg that a Ghost Pokémon lay here. Sometimes they rise up when...” Light erupted from the egg’s cracks and was followed by a brilliant flash. When Mason’s vision cleared, a Pokémon that looked like a gray sack with a skull face pasted on it was floating in his hands. A single, purple eye opened in the darkness behind one of the sockets, then moved to the other before fixing on Mason. “Duskull!” the ghostly Pokémon cheered as it at least attempted to wrap its stubby arms around Mason’s chest. “I’m a daddy!” Mason exclaimed, tears welling up in his eyes. #No your not!# Artemis snapped. “Well, excuse me for having a moment,” Mason replied darkly. “What is this thing, anyway?” “It’s a Duskull, weren’t you listening?” the Chaser answered. “Hey, I’m supposed to be apprehending you!” Mason and the Chaser leapt to their respective feet. “I don’t think so!” Mason declared. “Now that I have this baby Duskull that probably thinks I’m its mother, I’m not going to allow you to take me anywhere! This Duskull needs me now because the real mother won’t take it back if it smells like human. Uh, unless that’s Ursaring.” He took out a PokéBall and tossed it to the floor. “Go, Mickey!” A small, black dog materialized before Mason. The Poochyena immediately ran around Mason’s feet with a lot of annoying yipping. “Yeah, it’s good to see you, too,” Mason said exasperatedly. With more enthusiasm, he commanded, “Mickey, use your Crunch attack! Use Crunch, boy! Use Crunch!” “Arbok, use Poison Fang!” the Chaser commanded. “Yen!” Mickey yipped as he dashed across the stone floor. He leapt up as the Arbok lunged, dodging the attack and clamping its own jaws around the Arbok’s midsection. The Arbok shook Mickey off and backed away. “Arbok, use Wrap!” the Chaser ordered. “Mickey, sit,” Mason commanded. Mickey obediently sat in the middle of the floor as the Arbok began to circle around him. “Now hop!” Mason declared. Mickey popped up into air just before the Arbok’s coils could get a decent grip. The Poochyena bounded back to Mason. “And finish the job with your Return attack!” Mason called out. Mickey streaked across the floor as the Arbok lashed out with its tail. The Poochyena leapt into the air, slamming headfirst into the Arbok’s chin. The Arbok was sent tumbling past the Chaser and kept rolling until its head slammed into the wall. The impact left a crack in the wall that expanded up to and across the ceiling until several large chunks of rock fell on the Chaser and pinned her to the ground. “That was unexpected,” Mason remarked. “Dammit, Adams,” the Chaser growled as she attempted to wriggle free. “When I get out of here...” “You okay?” he asked with concern. “Anything broken?” “Nothing that won’t keep me from kicking your butt from here to Realgam Tower!” the Chaser snapped. “If only I could reach my PokéBalls...” “So your arms are caught, then?” Mason inquired. “Nah, the rocks are just in the way of my PokéBelt,” the Chaser muttered. She writhed for a while longer before looking up at Mason and smiling sweetly. “Mason, sweetie, I don’t suppose a big, strong man like you could possibly move these boulders off of me? Pretty please?” “Nah,” Mason declined. He turned and hopped over a few gravestones on the way to the exit. “I’m sure emergency crews will be along soon to get you out.” “What!?” the Chaser exclaimed. “Adams, you bastard! Get back here! At least try to move something! Hey! Are you listening to me!?” #You really are a bastard, you know,# Artemis said. “I’ll call 911 once I find a phone, okay?” Mason offered as he switched his costume back to a jacket and cap. “So, ready to teleport us back to the Magma Base, Artemis.” #Get bent,# Artemis replied. “Looks like we’re swimming, Mickey,” Mason said. “Yen!” Mickey yipped, once again circling Mason. “Yenyenyenyenyenyenyenyenyenyenyen!” “Duskull, duskull!” the baby Duskull chirped as it orbited his head. #What are you going to do about that... thing?# Artemis asked. “I don’t know much about Ghost Pokémon,” Mason admitted. “I guess I’ll have to do some research or something on care and feeding if it follows us home.” “Duskull, duskull!” the baby Duskull chirped again. #You can’t keep that thing!# Artemis exclaimed. “Don’t worry, it won’t eat you,” Mason said reassuringly. “Besides, if I don’t keep it, who will?” -- Chet "Tech" Weaver AIM: PanGatomon MSN: Nichirasu@hotmail.com eMail: zeroohki at netscape dot net Yahoo! Messenger: tech_weaver ICQ: 122744531 Webcomic: http://desperadocoyote.keenspace.com My Adventure Quest character: http://www.battleon.com/aq-chardetail.asp?temp=131213 You can play Adventure Quest at http://www.battleon.com Sometimes, I notice someone has posted a reply to one of my messages and I think, "Oh, great, what did I say this time?"