From: "Chet Weaver - Wishing You a Very Happy Non-Demoninational Winter Season" <zeroohki@netscape.net> Subject: [PW!] Warrior of the Sands Date: Tuesday, December 21, 2004 4:34 PM Kitsu the wereNinetales trudged on through the sands of the desert. The burning heat barely bothered her Fire-type physiology. In fact, it was probably the most comfortable temperature she had felt for most of her 16 years of life, as she rarely visited her ancestral homeland on the Boiler Plateau. She'd probably be enjoying her visit if it weren't for the raging sandstorm that threatened to blow her straight out of the desert. She put an arm up and squinted as she pressed on, the wind and sand whipping about her sand-stained white dress and sweater and dragging her tails along like streamers. She cursed herself for being unprepared. There is a certain technique to cursing that can increase one's strength and endurance, but Kitsu lost the TM after teaching it to her Scyther and didn't know it herself. However, Ninetales know many curses that can affect someone for years, and Kitsu was beginning to create some rather imaginative ones herself. "Sand-blasted, tick-hording, mongrel dog mother," Kitsu muttered. She drove the Hellstrike Bisento into the sand and leaned against it, turning her back to the wind so she could catch the least sand-filled breath possible. It wasn't her style to rush into deserts unprepared, but she had to learn to control the Hellstrike Bisento to protect herself and her friends from its furious power. Wildfire, the Magmar sword smith, had told her that the secret to controlling the Hellstrike lay with the Warrior of the Sands somewhere in this desert. Now she had been in this desert for hours with no clue as to where this "Warrior of the Sands" person was, and all she could see was a virtual wall of sand in every direction. The wind changed direction for a moment and shadows began to form in the blowing sand. Many deserts were patrolled by vultures or starved lions or both. This desert had creatures far more suited to the harsh climate: Cacturne, walking cacti that stalked its prey until it was weak. "Skin-pricking, triangle-headed scavengers," Kitsu swore under her breath as she yanked her bisento out of the sand, pulled her sweater over her head, and stumbled on in the direction she was heading. She considered the Cacturne an insult more than a threat. They considered her weak, but she could take all of them out with a blast of fire if she wanted. Between the pounding of the storm, the Hellstrike stealing her energy when she attacked, and the sand veil distorting her vision, however, it was better to move along and at least act like she still had strength left to fight them off. "Uncle-flipping, waste-recycling nitwit," Kitsu said to no one in particular. The wind pressed harder and she steadied herself with the Hellstrike. She could hear the cries of the Cacturne as they drew closer. "Monkey-loving, tree-hugging hipster-doofus. Snap- deciding ignoramus. Why did I run straight into the desert? It was like some hack author tried to force some sort of plot point without taking my personality into account. I didn't even stop for supplies. No goggles, no food, no water... could use some water right now, just to wash the sand down. Heh." "Cact-turne!" came a voice from the storm. Kitsu stumbled as a needle-covered arm slammed against her back. She spun around, lashing out with her bisento, but cut through only air and sand. She pulled her sweater down from over her eyes and peered into the roaring sands. The vaguely human shadows were closer now and the cackles of the Cacturne were more audible. The sands blew again, and the shadows grew more excited. Her strength drained like blood into the sea of the desert and drew in the Cacturne like sharks to frenzy. "Weeds!" Kitsu growled, the sand piling up around her feet. "I'll cut you all down if you even think of getting closer! It may take all of you to take me down, but it only takes one of you to die! Now who wants to go first!?" The Cacturne chuckled louder and pulled in closer, still remaining obscured by the sands. They knew the strength of her words only meant her strength was leaving her muscles. First she'll lose her patience, and then she'll lose her life. "Cowards!" Kitsu snapped. She knew it was only a matter of time before they struck, and she wanted to control when. She thought that if strong words didn't goad them into attack, they would at least scare them off. "If you want my blood, then come and take it already!" The shadows danced around her, the cackling became a foreboding song. Mocking, laughing, chiding. The poor little fox wandered into the desert alone, where the land was as dry as bone. The winds took her spirit and the sands took her strength. Now how will she find her way home? "Stop laughing!" Kitsu cried. She punctuated the command with a blast of flame that disappeared into the storm. If the attack made contact, the desert prevented her from knowing. Kitsu dropped to one knee as the Hellstrike sapped her energy. "Darn it..." The shadows were more distinct now, or they would be if Kitsu's vision wasn't blurring. She could make out bits of green among the black and brown. With the Cacturne closing in, Kitsu had few options. She took up her bisento and breathed flame into it, feeding her energy directly into the weapon in hopes of bringing its energy storage capacity to critical mass and triggering the Hellstrike's inferno explosion. She sputtered and coughed. Out of firepower. It was barely enough to light a fireplace, much less start an inferno. Kitsu lunged to her feet and swung wildly at the nearest Cacturne. The walking plant merely stepped out of her way. She attacked again, the Hellstrike trailing with flame. Kitsu fell to her knees again and held herself up by her bisento's shaft. She was burnt out. She glared at the cacti dully. Like warriors often are in her situation, clinging to consciousness by a thread while facing an ever-looming threat, Kitsu felt the need for one final comment. Perhaps a prayer or just some stirring last words. Unfortunately, when one's consciousness is slipping away like sand through your fingers, it's difficult to think of anything impressive and they are prone to saying whatever comes to mind. "I don't suppose you could spare some water?" Kitsu asked. Then everything faded to white. Kitsu awoke to the sound of crackling fire and the whistling of the raging sandstorm. Beneath her she could feel solid rock. She opened her eyes, sat up, and found she was in a cave. "So, you're finally awake," echoed a lilting voice from the darkness. "Who's there?" Kitsu called out. Seven points of light gleamed from a far wall opposite the entrance. They were the eyes of a large, metal creature reclining in a throne of stone at the back of the cave. But it was a small, feline creature, tan furred with a purple mane, that stepped from the shadows and into the warm glow of the fire. "I'm there," the feline said. "You're a Delcatty," Kitsu noted. She crawled a little closer to it. "You don't smell Aenarian. How is it that you speak a human tongue?" "Any Pokémon can learn to speak human," the Delcatty replied. "It just takes time. My name is Bast." "I am Kitsu," was the reply. Kitsu was not, in fact, entirely unfamiliar with talking Pokémon. Her friend Alex had a Murkrow named ShadowWarrior that could speak quite well. But even on Aenaria very few of the lesser-evolved creatures spoke more than the repetition of their species name. "I seek the Warrior of the Sands. Do you know where I may find him?" "I know not of any Warrior of the Sands," Bast answered. Gesturing towards the back of the cave, the Delcatty added, "Perhaps you mean Registeel?" "Registeel?" Kitsu repeated, staring up again at the metallic creature. "Registeel is legendary," Bast explained. "This cave was built centuries ago for Registeel. Registeel sleeps now, but maybe it will awaken soon." "What is Registeel legendary for?" Kitsu inquired. "Registeel is legendary for being a legend," Bast replied. "I have lived here a long time, but this is the first time I have ever seen Registeel. You must be very lucky to be here right now. Registeel dragged you here from the desert and dropped you where you lay. Judging from the Cacturne limbs it was also dragging, you must be very lucky indeed." Kitsu had a vague recollection of being kicked by something very large out in the desert. She surmised that Registeel might have unthinkingly plowed straight through the horde of Cacturne as it tromped through the blinding sandstorm and somehow hooked her in the process. It certainly looked like it could, although it looked too smooth to merely be snagged upon. "My Hellstrike!" Kitsu suddenly remembered. "Where is it? What happened to it?" "What is this Hellstrike?" Bast inquired. "It's a bisento," Kitsu explained. Not seeing a look of recognition on the Delcatty's face, she added, "A pole, with a wide blade on one end." "Oh, that," Bast said. "I think Registeel has it." Kitsu stood up and approached Registeel. Striking up a flame between her fingers so she could see through the shadows a little better, she saw that the bisento had lodged itself in the craw of Registeel's thumb and smallest finger. She carefully slid the weapon out of the steel legend's hand and its fingers settled over the armrest underneath it. Kitsu and Bast leapt back when they saw the movement, but Registeel made no other response. Kitsu sized up the metal monster, and then made a respectful bow. "Honorable legendary Registeel," Kitsu said. "I humbly request to train under you as an apprentice." After a moment of windy silence, Bast said, "I don't think it heard you." "Honorable legendary Registeel," Kitsu repeated louder. "I humbly request to train under you as an apprentice." "It must still be asleep," Bast surmised. "But the eyes are lit," Kitsu said. "Lit eyes mean open eyes." "Maybe Registeel sleeps with its eyes open?" Bast offered. "But I saw them light up," Kitsu replied. "Hello? Registeel? Can you not hear me? I require your assistance!" Kitsu banged on Registeel's foot with the blunt end of her bisento. Again, nothing happened. "It may not be the wisest idea to awaken Registeel," Bast warned. "Yes, well, I don't want to spend more time in this desert than is absolutely necessary, thank you," said Kitsu, sizing up Registeel once again. "Besides, some mad man is after me and is all too willing to go through my friends to do so. I may need them more than they'll need me, but in any case if I don't master my Hellstrike Bisento I'll be a danger to everyone. It has the power to destroy everything and I must learn to control it." "Sounds like a heavy burden," Bast said. "All part of being a princess," Kitsu sighed. She stroked her hair back and said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to do something extremely rash." With that, Kitsu leapt up and struck Registeel above its central eye with the Hellstrike. Aside from the vibrations necessary to create the deafening cacophony of Metal Sound that echoed through the cavern, Registeel failed to respond to being used as a makeshift gong. It just sat there, still as a statue. "Are you sure this thing is alive?" Kitsu asked after the ringing in her ears finally quieted down. She prodded Registeel a few more times with her bisento. "I saw it move with my own eyes," Bast replied. "It sounds hollow," Kitsu pointed out. "Maybe you just dreamed it?" "Do you know how much machinery it would take to move something that big?" Bast asked rhetorically. "More than can fit in this cave, that's for sure, and I would've noticed. No, this thing wasn't here yesterday." Kitsu thought for a moment, then climbed onto Registeel's lap. She checked every surface she could for signs of a hatch or access panel, but its structure was practically seamless. She then hoisted herself on top of Registeel's headless torso and banged it experimentally a couple times with the Hellstrike. "It could be a robot, or some kind of riding armor," she said, slumping into a sitting position atop Registeel. "With a secret hatch hidden by the throne, maybe. But whatever it is, I don't think it'll be much help until it shows signs of life. I guess I'll have to wait here until it wakes up, or at least until the storm dies down." "Oh, that sandstorm never goes away," informed Bast. "It's been here forever, or at least as long as I've been here." "And how long has that been?" Kitsu inquired. "Most of my life," Bast answered. "About... What year is it now?" Kitsu told her. Bast gave her the figure. It wasn't very encouraging. "Oh," replied a downtrodden Kitsu. She curled her tails around herself. Between the sandstorm and the Cacturne, she had a feeling it would be a long time before she returned to her friends. To be continued... -- Chet "Tech" Weaver - If you're a mall Santa, and a child accuses you of not being the real Santa, it's not a good idea to shout, "Crap! They're on to us!" and run out screaming. "We never feel we are ready for whatever's calling us; The point is to do it anyway." AIM: PanGatomon MSN: Nichirasu@hotmail.com eMail: zeroohki at netscape dot net Yahoo! Messenger: tech_weaver ICQ: 122744531 Webcomic: http://desperadocoyote.keenspace.com