Chapter 2 – Fate

Munternplatz, 14. Herbstmond, 1027 nach dem Blitz

An Regionalleiter Baan der Pummel-Karawane,

Eure Majestät wünscht sich Ihren Service der Pummel-Karawane für eine dringende Bitte: einen gesicherten Waggon mit ihrer nächsten Karawane von Reinhafen nach Neuengelstadt unterzubringen. Eine Partie, die für Eure Majestät Siegmund wichtig ist, reist im davorgenannten gesicherten Wagen. Mitunter sollen die reisenden Mitglieder dieser besagten Partie unter allen Umständen geheim bleiben. Sollte auch nur etwas dieser Partie geschehen, wird es mitunter existentielle Konsequenzen für das Wohlsein des Gebietes und den Sieg des Krieges gegen das Königreich der Ideale geben.

Eure Majestät wünschte besonders für Ihre Karawane für ihre erfolgreichen Einträge in Ländern von ganz Wunder, spezifisch ihre Erfolge und Erfahrungsgeschichten von Diensten des Königreichs der Wahrheit, und ihre Kompetenz der Gruppe im Kampf. Als Rücksichtnahme der Geheimhaltung, ein Kommando der Gendarmen von Reinhafen und Munternplatz wird Ihrer Karawane direkte Unterstützung bieten, während meine Streitkräfte in einen fünfzehn Minütigen Abstand zu Fuß folgen. Sollten Sie trotz der vorderen Truppe zusätzliche Unterstützung benötigen, sollten Sie mit den von uns zur Verfügung gestellten Lichtsignalen meine Truppe informieren. Unsere zügigsten Mitglieder werden Ihnen schnellstmöglich mit aller Kraft zur Hilfe leisten.

Eure Majestät ist bereit 200.000 Karolin für Ihre Dienste der Karawane zu bieten. Die Hälfte vor der Abfahrt, und den Rest bei erfolgreicher Ankunft der transportierten Partie. Wer in dieser Partie ist hat Ihnen und Ihre Gruppe keinesfalls zu interessieren. Wäre diese Partie jemand, der ohne weiteres mit einem Träger einfach nach Neuengelstadt ohne ernsthaftes Risiko von Verlust gebracht werden könnte, würde ich sie selber dahin fliegen anstatt auf Ihre Dienste der Karawane durch diesen Brief zu bitten. Sie haben einen Tag nach Empfang dieses Briefes zeit, um sich zu entscheiden, und keine Antwort wird als Ablehnung des Auftrages angesehen.

Wägen Sie Ihre Entscheidungen mit Bedacht. Ich warte auf Ihre Antwort.

–  Brief des Grafen von Wellenhafen, Lacan Dragoransohn an Regionalleiter Baan Togedemarusohn

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A little over an hour later, under the glow of the stars and galaxies in the night sky, Lyle crouched amid the tall grass of a hilltop overlooking the chosen site of their ambush just north of Moonturn Square.

The Quilava dutifully suppressed the flames from his vents to better conceal himself as he watched other Pokémon in green garb take their positions. Ford’s Terra Tyrants had fielded its stronger members up to the position and flushed out the grasses between their vantage point and the riverside route of stray Wilders with a few well-placed Foe-Fear Orbs.

Much to Lyle’s relief, their efforts proved largely unneeded as the lot made their way up to lie in wait, with Lyle having been posted alongside Alvin and a Mismagius and Scyther from his crew. The other two Terra Tyrants largely kept to themselves, leaving their Marowak and Quilava compatriots to pair up a short distance away and peer down intently at the darkened path below.

“Are you ready, Lyle?” Alvin whispered.

Lyle raised his unlit head and peered up at the night sky. The stars twinkled down as they always did, and a waning half moon hung in the sky, reflecting its glow off the water of a winding river in the background. A new moon would’ve been ideal for mounting the raid since the auroras over Waterhead Cave were weak tonight, but it was the caravan that set the schedule and not the night sky. The lights twinkling above were out of their paws to control, and the few ways they had of even attempting to obscure them through techniques such as Rain Dance were surely net negatives from the additional attention it’d draw.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” the Fire-type replied.

“Good!” a Sneasel’s voice suddenly piped up. “Cause that signal from Whiskers and her gang from the river down there means that the caravan’s due to show up at any minute!”

Lyle and Alvin jolted up and turned around, seeing Kate in her blue Mistral Marauder scarf waving behind them. Lyle’s fire flickered to life with a start for a brief moment, before he hastily smothered it much to the sharp displeasure of the nearby Mismagius and Scyther. The raid hadn’t even started yet and here he was slipping up already. But that was getting beside the point, as the Quilava flattened his ears and raised his voice in a low, sharp hiss at his Sneasel companion.

“Kate?! What are you doing here?!”

“Yeah, your crew’s supposed to be stalking the caravan and following them in!” Alvin added.

Kate said nothing in reply for a brief moment, before giving a dismissive shrug of her shoulders and giving an impish grin back at her companions.

“Well, Boss Myra needed some scouts to go out,” the Dark-type explained. “She never said they all had to come back…”

Lyle let his muzzle curl down into a sour frown and reared up to point a paw sharply at Kate’s chest, the Quilava straining against his body to fight back irritated spurts of fire from the vents on his head and tail.

“Look, just do your job like everyone else, alright-?”

“Oi, get down and shut up for a moment, you three!” the Mismagius hissed. “That caravan just arrived!”

Lyle, Kate, and Alvin quickly hushed and sank into their cover in the tall grass, their eyes peeking just above the tips of the blades to see flecks of lanternlight and what appeared to be various Pokémon’s natural illumination proceeding down the path. The lights carried on a way, before they slowed and began to pool along the riverbank in a large cluster. The meager light was evidently enough for some of the others with better farsight to make out the caravan, as Alvin raised a paw and quietly counted off the shapes of the caravan in the distance. Eight wagons, forty Pokemon… just as they’d been told. He couldn’t get a solid headcount of how many of those forty Pokémon were guards and escorts, but everything seemed to align with the numbers that Myra and the other Outlaw leaders had presented in their briefing.

The lights drifted about in their space for a few minutes, before a fire pit sprang up in their midst and revealed that the wagons had stopped to rest but were not circled in a defensive arrangement. Even if the figures were a bit murky in Lyle’s vision from the distance and the darkness, it was evident that the caravan’s Pokémon were evidently planning on continuing further on that night—relatively soon if the way the wagons were lined up to roll back out onto the path was anything to go by.

Lyle couldn’t help but find it strange that the caravan would be in such a hurry. Even in his father’s days as a wee Cyndaquil, travel at night was dicey in much of Varhyde. But no matter, it would make the job of parting those rodents and their pack mules from their goods a bit easier.

“Come on,” the Scyther said. “It’s time to move into position.”

The Mismagius and the Scyther set off down the hill, crouching to reduce their visible profile amidst the grass. Lyle and his companions followed suit, the grass rustling as they brushed past on their way down the hill, dutifully sticking to the darker patches to make use of the reduced light from the moon. On a couple occasions, one of the other Outlaws would quietly thump the ground with a foot to call for a stop after a guard with more dangerous vision was spotted, before doing so again twice to sound the all-clear. The three slowed their progress as the ground levelled out and the musk of Pokémon who’d been marching all day pricked their noses. With careful treads, Lyle and his companions crept forward, letting the canvas tops of the wagons poking over the grasses serve as their guide.

All the while, the Quilava fought back embers from his vents as he felt his stomach knot up. Part of him was quietly grateful that Kate had blown off her teammates to stick around. He should’ve expected he’d have pre-raid jitters coming back in from the cold after two whole years, and he could only imagine how bad it’d have been were he not skulking along with close companions. A series of sharp thuds pricked his ears and made Lyle freeze, and from the expressions on their faces, Kate and Alvin had heard it too. Thuds that kept repeating with a rhythm that revealed they were heavy footsteps from a bulky Pokémon, one headed straight for them.

“Guh,” a lowing voice groaned. “Finally, some actual greens…”

Lyle breathed in sharply and grimaced at the sight of a tired-looking Gogoat in a gray scarf bearing a white circle ringed with yellow and brown triangles approaching. The goat shuffled over to the grass, and lowered his head to stoop down to graze scarcely a dozen paces away from them. The three blanched, realizing that they had made it much closer to the edge of the tall grass and the site of the caravan’s temporary encampment than they initially assumed. One stray sound, one untimely sniff at the air, and they’d be discovered and their element of surprise would be lost before the Riparian Raiders had a chance to signal that they were in position. None of them dared to so much as breathe as the Gogoat started to drift in deeper, when a sharp squeak from behind rang out.

“Oi! Gogoat not wander away from caravan!” a high-pitched voice squeaked. “Dabohru say everybody go back on route once river drink over!”

The Gogoat paused and let out a low grumble, turning back and retracing his steps. There, at the edge of the grass, was an irked-looking Togedemaru in a matching scarf scowling up at the Grass-type. The ram lowered his head and gave it a vigorous shake, letting out an annoyed snort in response.

“Yeah, well we’ve already been pushing it long enough and we’ve been marching all day from Port Reyn!” the Gogoat huffed. “I was under the impression that these parts were supposed to have Outlaws come crawling out at night, so all the more reason to hunker down right now!”

“That all more reason to not wander off! Zazadan have no patience for this!” the Togedemaru shot back. “If Gogoat have problem with orders, Gogoat go tell Caravan Leader Dabohru by self!”

Back from their cover, Lyle, Kate, and Alvin crept to their left in the grass. Still close enough to hear the Togedemaru and the Gogoat’s argument, but distant enough to not be found by a casual nose in the wrong direction by the Grass-type. Kate flattened her ears, and let out a quiet murmur about the proceedings to her friends.

“Tch, those dweeby spike balls seriously run the show here?” she whispered. “I’m really quaking in fear from that little squeaker right now.”

Lyle and Alvin rolled their eyes, though it was hard to admit the Sneasel didn’t have a point about the little spike balls having downright mockable speech patterns if this Togedemaru was remotely representative. Why it was almost as if the ‘mon had gone out of his way to sound as unserious and unimposing as possible!

Even so, they knew better than to underestimate the rodent given the warning they’d received back in camp. And from the way wind blew along the argument between the Togedemaru and Gogoat, a peek through the grasses revealed the little squeaker to be adamantly standing his ground in front of the Gogoat. Far more than what any of them would’ve expected from a ‘mon with a speech pattern that’d embarrass most hatchlings.

“Dabohru say caravan on strict schedule tonight!” the Togedemaru insisted. “So Dabohru take precautions to defend caravan better!”

The sphere-like rodent turned and sharply whistled, drawing sharp wingbeats and a low screech as a large, vaguely draconic gray creature with lavender wings donning a caravan scarf landed behind him. The Pokémon reared up, visible to the three Outlaws over the top of the grass where they could make out a pronged tail, and a horned head with a long, square snout full of teeth that looked almost like sawblades. Lyle, Kate, and Alvin held their breaths and felt their blood run cold at the sight of the imposing flyer, as the Gogoat all but jumped back with widened eyes and visibly trembled at the creature’s presence. His voice coming out in something approximated a frightened squeak.

“G-Götterblut!₁” the Grass-type whined. “Wh-What is that thing?!”

The gray wyvern narrowed her eyes back at the cowering Gogoat, as she drew her wings in against her body with a sharp, offended huff.

“I’m an Aerodactyl. We aren’t that special,” she scoffed. “And I have a name, bub!”

The Togedemaru waddled over beside the Aerodactyl, pointing up at her with a proud smile in front of the still-quailing Gogoat.

“Reisenbach here is lead flyer tonight from headquarters!” the Electric-type answered. “Born and raised in Primordial Woods where the Pokémon are fierce dinobeasts! Dinobeasts that grow big and hungry enough to gobble up little Togedemaru in one bite!”

The Gogoat lost his nerve at the mention of the Togedemaru’s mention of ‘dinobeasts’, much less the Aerodactyl hailing from a place where her kind ate others, making him bleat and jump back in an audible panic.

“E-Eek!“

The Gogoat tore off for the rest of the caravan as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving the Aerodactyl and the Togedemaru to look after him briefly, before the pterosaur trained a sharp scowl down at the furry spike ball.

“Really classy there, Zazadan. I left Primordial Woods and have been living as a Civil since before I could even fly!” the Rock-type snarled. “For crying out loud, I even used to be an Air Marshal with the Gendarmen!“

“What?” the Togedemaru insisted. “Zazadan just try to prove point about the rest of the trip!”

“So why didn’t you tell him about those guards that came along from the last town with us?” the Rock-type demanded, prompting her Electric-type colleague to shake his spherical body back with a disappointed huff.

“Pah, guards all a bunch of useless leeches that keep getting into berries,” he spat. “Especially fat white ferret with them! Why Dabohru not protest order from Regional Leader to let them along, Zazadan never understand.”

Lyle froze in the grass and breathed in sharply at the mention of ‘guards’, before turning to his teammates with a worried glance.

“What guards were they talking about there?” he asked.

“Does it matter?” Kate asked. “I’m sure it’s just some lackeys from their caravan.”

“Kate, nobody said anything about extra guards being here,” the Quilava insisted. “How do we know that someone didn’t tip them off about us?”

“Just keep it down!” Alvin hushed. “The signal’s about to go up at any moment-“

The Marowak trailed off as he looked up, where a light in the sky winked rhythmic flashes. One short, three long, another short one, and one last, long flash before going dark. The three watched as a sphere flew into the air and crashed into the ground in the middle of the encampment, spewing yellowish spheres of light as the caravan erupted into a confused uproar.

“Agh! Somebody throw Totter Orb at us!” a Togedemaru’s voice cried.

The roar of churning water and a sharp bellow rang out as Parker rode a Surf into the thick of the caravan with blades drawn, accompanied by a small party of fellow red-scarved Outlaws. The Water-type at once hacked into a hapless Hippowdon, keeling her over with an agonized bellow. Arcing beams and rays of different elements zipped in from the hills, picking off a few Pokémon near the edge of the caravan as its defenders hurriedly tried to assume battle positions. Among them, Lyle noticed a Magmar make a grab for a wooden cylinder and light it up with fiery breath, the cylinder suddenly erupting in a shower of light as it shot a flare up towards the sky.

Lyle froze, realizing that the caravan was signalling for help, when a sharp wind suddenly blew the flare off course just above the wagons and sent it crashing back down to the earth, with a cutting gust of air following shortly afterwards from above and sprawling the Fire-type out onto the ground. A quick glance along the wind’s direction revealed Myra swooping in, riding a Tailwind at the head of a formation of incoming fliers off to their left that fanned out into small groups to cover the airspace over the encampment. Not far away, the ground rumbled, with Ford burrowing out of the ground to their right and calling out behind him.

“This is it!” the Steelix bayed. “Get ’em!”

Lyle and his companions sprang out of the brush, the Fire-type’s head and tail erupting into flame as the three charged into the encampment. Lyle held his head low to the ground and let out a reflexive yelp as covering fire of attacks and missiles zipped in from the Terra Tyrants’ rearguard still on the hill and shouts and cries rang out about him. His breaths came short and sharp as he ran forward. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

The defenders had been caught badly off-guard, as a few of their numbers fell to incoming attacks, and others bolted from their wagons in a blind panic. Myra and the fliers had split up in the skies over the encampment, weaving about large bolts of electricity and beams from the ground as Pokémon from the caravan hastily sortied into the air. The three Outlaws ran ahead with Myra’s Tailwind at their backs, trying to make their way over to the line of wagons closest to the tall grass just as a passing Murkrow tore away the canvas on one with a spread-wing slash. Just as they neared, a trio of Togedemaru cut off their path and began to visibly spark.

“Outlaws responsible for this trouble!” the leader Togedemaru cried. “Assume formation for team Zing-Zap attack!”

Alvin ran ahead at the central Togedemaru of the trio as the three whirled and kicked up electrical bursts. Lyle and Kate reflexively flinched as they heard a deafening crackle, watching as overlapping waves of electricity shot out, and their Marowak raised his voice into a bellowing snarl.

“Oh, put a bone in it!”

The waves of electricity arced in on the Marowak and settled on his hide as inert static, doing little more than to slow his pace briefly. For a second, Lyle had worried that the sheer magnitude of the attacks would overwhelm it, but that was Alvin’s Lightningrod at work. The three Electric-types froze and went wide-eyed with shock as the Marowak zeroed in on the leader Togedemaru. The lizard brought his bony club down in an upward swing and a sharp thwack followed, sending the rodent flying with a pained squeak into the side of a wagon, where he flopped down and hit the ground twitching. The color drained from the other two Togedemaru’s faces, as they jolted back and squealed out of fright.

“A-Aah! Outlaws got Zazadan!” the left Togedemaru cried.

“R-Run for it!” the right yelped.

The two rodents turned and bolted from the three Outlaws, prompting Kate to let out a dismissive scoff as she flicked aside some ice that had built up on one of her claws for a now-unneeded attack. Lyle and his companions continued on, closing the distance to the wagon just ahead of them that had been abandoned in haste.

“Tch, they really do lose their cool when they’re not fighting in groups,” Kate remarked. “Though I’m surprised nobody’s disabled this thing yet.”

“Look, just don’t get cocky here,” Lyle chided. “Let’s just get started by busting up the wheels so that way those rodents can’t take this stuff with them if they cut and run.”

Lyle ran up and spat a thick cone of embers at one of the wagon’s front wheels, the heat blackening the wood behind it before Kate smothered it with a gust of icy air she blew out from her mouth. The pair quickly ducked around the other end and repeated the process on the other front wheel, charring the spokes when they heard the crack of splintering wood and saw the wagon sink forward, the blackened and damaged spokes on the wheel closest to them giving way as the entire front of the wagon crashed to the ground. The pair ducked into the front to peel back the damaged canvas, when they saw Alvin’s attention turn off behind them as he motioned with his bone.

“Look, over there!”

Alvin pointed off at a wagon tipped onto its side not too far away from them with signs of being struck by a heavy, stony missile of some sort where the Mismagius and Scyther from earlier had already stripped away the canvas and begun to pick through upended crates and barrels. The three turned their attention from the wagon they were about to clamber aboard, realizing that the pair of Terra Tyrants had already done much of the hard work of sorting through the contents of their wagon, and that any money or pocketable loot would be easier to get to.

“Heh heh! Looks like we just found payday! It’ll be much easier to root through that one-!” the Marowak began, when a loud screech suddenly pierced the air.

The three flinched as the air churned overhead and a lavender blur descended on the overturned wagon. The Mismagius was suddenly wrenched from her place and pinned to the ground by the Aerodactyl from earlier, who opened her jaws and bit down on the Mismagius’ neck before she could turn incorporeal. A loud, bloodcurdling scream rang out as the Aerodactyl dug her teeth in and shook the Ghost-type much like a ragdoll, the Scyther flinching and cringing as his companion’s cries died out and the Rock-type threw the Mismagius aside to flop limply into the dirt.

“A-Aah…”

The Scyther froze out of terror and attempted to flee just as the Aerodactyl stomped the ground, tearing a hail of rocks out of the ground with a great dirt plume that struck the mantis from below. The Bug-type sailed into the air with the stones, before stalling and crashing back to earth headfirst with little signs of life beyond a weak twitch of his wings. Alvin and his companions felt the color drain from their faces, as they realized the Aerodactyl was scarcely twenty paces from them, and hastily ducked behind the disabled wagon just as she turned towards their direction.

“G-Gih! Never mind, let’s let one of the bosses handle that one!” Alvin insisted. “Let’s try our luck closer to the water!”

The three turned and ran from the scene deeper into the encampment, ducking from the cover of one wagon to another as the din of fierce battle raged around them. Mercifully, the Aerodactyl seemed to be driven away by a few beams zipping in from the grasses, which forced her back up towards friendlier airspace. A glance up revealed the Rock-type wasn’t alone, as the defenders had gotten more of their own fliers into the air. All above them, the air in the sky rippled and churned with Pokémon overhead throwing attacks and pursuing after each other, with thick bolts of electricity periodically zipping up into the sky.

Every now and then, Lyle and his companions would throw an errant attack back at the defenders, as battle cries and the yelps of wounded and felled Pokémon rang out until they could see darkened water just ahead, along with Dalton and a Golduck flanking a Tauros laden with baggage that’d slipped off from a nearby wagon, with Artem circling above to provide aerial support. Even in spite of his outmatched circumstances, the bull stubbornly dug his hooves in and lowered his head, attempting to drive off his assailants with a bellowing charge as sparks danced on Dalton’s hide.

“Clear!” Dalton cried.

The Swellow and the Golduck hastily fell back before the Heliolisk flared his frill and disgorged a wide hail of sparks at the Tauros, the bull seizing up with a pained bellow before flopping over unconscious. Lyle and his companions watched as the three descended on the fainted Tauros, pulling bags off of his faintly breathing body as the Heliolisk approached with a seeming spring in his step and let out a satisfied harrumph.

“Hah! It’s not about how much power you have, but how you use i-“

“Dalton, watch out!” Artem squawked.

A spray of black orbs abruptly flew in, making Dalton hop back with a startled yelp as it shot past and tore up a patch of earth. Lyle and his companions watched as a Zangoose, a Morgrem, and a Venomoth in silver and white scarves with matching sets of green plated armor descended upon them. The Golduck crouched and glared back at the guards, lunging for the Zangoose only to be cut off with a slashing uppercut and sent sprawled out groaning.

Dalton and Artem grimaced, the Heliolisk hastily attempting to lead with another Parabolic Charge, only for the three armored Pokémon to resist his blow from their plates and took advantage of their respite to slip back out of his attack’s range. The Venomoth was quick to retaliate, flying up and blowing a plume of purple, toxic powder into Artem’s face that made him lose altitude, spluttering and hacking much to the Zangoose’s sneering satisfaction.

“Hah, you thieving scum all crumple up from a little love tap!” the Normal-type sneered. Artem righted himself and pulled up, fighting against the effects of his fresh poisoning to glare back at the Zangoose ringleader.

“Grr… don’t you have some travellers to shake down for drinks or something?” the Swellow growled.

“We did, but then we got stuck babysitting these dweeby rodents,” the Zangoose spat back. “Getting to tan your hides will be a nice bonus!”

Lyle’s eyes shrank to pins at the sight of the three attackers as they lunged again at Dalton and Artem. Armor of any composition wasn’t exactly common among Pokémon from how much it cost to make, and with the lot of them sporting sets of the same banded-cloth composition and the same color as Nils’, that meant…

“Th-Those are Grünhäuter!” Lyle yelped. “Why on earth would they be guarding a caravan like this?!”

“Don’t question it too much,” Alvin insisted. “This is way beyond what we were supposed to run into, just find something to snatch and let’s get out of here!”

“What, so soon?” Kate asked. “We’re not just leaving Scales here get worked over like that!”

Without a further word, the Sneasel darted off ahead for the beleaguered Outlaws in the middle of their battle. Lyle and Alvin’s jaws flopped open, before they ran after her, the Quilava barking after her with a frantic shout.

“Kate! Get back here!”

Undeterred, Kate fished through her satchel and pulled out a Pecha Berry, tossing it up to Artem with a sharp cry.

“Here, take it, Swellow!” she insisted. “Don’t just loaf around like that!”

The three guards turned around at the sight of the approaching Dark-type, just missing the Pecha Berry which zipped up at the Swellow’s head with him catching it in his beak. With no time to apply it properly, the Flying-type bit down and consumed the berry. Artem flew up, weaving around a Dark Pulse from the Mogrem Gendarm and climbing into the air as his wingbeats grew more steady—and then dove back down, clipping his Mogrem foe from behind with a spread-wing tackle.

“Heh, thanks for the help, Sneasel!” Artem snickered.

Kate’s generosity had not gone unnoticed, as she was forced to swiftly jump aside from a jagged ray of greenish-yellow light from the Venomoth of the trio of guards. The Mogrem opted to leave Dalton and Artem for his Zangoose comrade and tore at Lyle and Alvin, who braced themselves for battle. With their hopes of sneaking off dashed, there was only one way left out for the Outlaws, and it was through knocking these Gendarmen into next week.

“Hey, you stupid imp!” Alvin bellowed. “Let’s see how you fare when you don’t have numbers on your side!”

Alvin threw his bone forward in an arcing motion, sending it twirling through the air as it sailed along and clocked the Morgrem in his nose. The Dark-type yelped and instinctively cradled his face, getting clipped from behind by Alvin’s club as it flew back to him. With the Morgrem still stunned, Lyle ran up and let smoke build up at the back of his throat, spewing a Smokescreen square up the Dark-type’s head that made the guard lurch back with a disoriented totter and hack for air as Artem swooped in to throw in an attack of his own. The sound of a sharp yowl rang out, as Lyle and Alvin turned to see the Zangoose stumbling back from Dalton, static still dancing on his fur.

“Oh, so it’s gonna be like that, huh?” the Zangoose snarled. “Have it your way!”

The Normal-type flashed his claws and swung at the Heliolisk, his first swing missing as Dalton jolted back and readied a weak arc of electricity, only for a second to connect with the Heliolisk’s chin and knock him flat on his back with a sharp yelp. The Zangoose’s ears swiveled as he heard Alvin run up with a bellowing cry, turning and giving a sharp jab at the Marowak’s stomach that made him gag and wheeze for air, the Zangoose noting his foe’s state with satisfaction as he readied a claw for a crushing downward swipe.

“Lights out, bonehea- Grah!”

The Cat Ferret Pokémon’s taunt was cut short by a burning tackle striking him from his flank. The Normal-type wheeled back, beating out the flames that clung to his pelt and armor as he looked down to see Lyle blinking in surprise for a moment before glaring up at him, and flashed his claws with a taunting smirk.

“Aren’t you a gutsy one? Do you really think you can take me on, Quilava?” the Zangoose sneered. “Then let me cut you down to size!”

The Zangoose lunged for Lyle, swinging at him once with a swipe that missed his right ear by a hair’s breadth, and then a second time that forced the Quilava to roll out of the way of another that was meant for his flank. Lyle rolled onto his feet, when his luck ran out and his newfound swiftness after using Flame Charge on the Normal-type fell short, as he felt a sharp slash from a pair of claws run across his back and squealed in pain.

“A-Aagh!”

Lyle pinwheeled and flopped to the ground, struggling back onto his feet and paws just in time to look up and see the Zangoose darting at him on all fours to strike again with his claws drawn. At the last step, the Zangoose lunged at him for a slashing pounce, when Lyle’s ears heard the Morgrem’s voice snarl from behind.

“Gah, verdammtes Wiesel!₂” the Dark-type snarled. “Let’s see how you like-!”

Without thinking, Lyle hastily rolled out of the way, leaving the Normal-type’s slash to carry on and dig into the Morgrem, knocking him to the ground with a pained shriek. The Mogrem looked back up from the ground, his eyes flickering as he struggled to hold a furious glare.

“D-Dolch, you idiot.”

The Dark-type’s eyes rolled back into his head before he sprawled out. The Zangoose looked down, seeing that he’d dug his claws into a gap in the imp’s armor, and pulled them back and got up, giving an exasperated huff down at the still-groaning Morgrem.

“Eh?! Fritz?!” the Zangoose exclaimed. “You’re supposed to give me space while attacking! We’ve been over this before!”

Lyle blinked, realizing that the entire time, this ‘Dolch’ Zangoose had been focused on him and not the surrounding battle. The Quilava heard a sharp yelp and turned just in time to see Kate getting knocked away from Venomoth after trying to slice at the straps for her armor when an idea dawned on him. He wasn’t sure if lightning would strike twice, but if this Zangoose Grünhäuter was as reckless and inattentive a fighter as he seemed to be, perhaps he could work his magic on his other friend as well.

“Hey ferret!” he snorted. “Let’s see how well you can keep up!”

That taunt certainly got the Zangoose’s attention, as his red eyes lit up with fiery anger. Lyle ran ahead towards the Venomoth, where he saw Artem had flown in and pinned her low near the ground to try and provide relief for Kate and he cried out to the pair.

“You two!” the Quilava cried. “Fall back a moment!”

Kate and Artem quickly obliged and darted away from the Poison-type. Just as the Venomoth attempted to give chase, Lyle ran up behind her and spewed out a cloud of smoke, ducking under the moth’s body and popping out the other end just as the sound of blows and confused shouts from Dolch and the Venomoth rang out. Seeing his opening, Lyle flashed a knowing smirk, and called out to his compatriots.

“Now! While they’re distracted!” the Fire-type cried. “Keep your distance and give them something to chew on!”

Lyle breathed out a cone of cinders into the cloud of smoke, Kate following with an Icy Wind, Alvin his Bonemerang, and Dalton and Artem a Thunderbolt and Air Slash respectively. The hail of attacks stripped the smoke away, revealing a pair of haggard guards with the Venomoth visibly struggling to stay airborne, until her Zangoose partner lobbed a punch blindly and sent her crumpling to the ground. The Zangoose paused and blinked at the sight of his Venomoth comrade lying limp at his feet, before flattening out his ears with an annoyed hiss.

“Nrrgh…” the Zangoose groaned. “Why do you two dorks always keep getting in my way-? Huh?”

Dolch trailed off as his eyes fell upon a boxy wagon made entirely of reinforced wood with a set of small grates with flip-down shutters on its sides where an Azumarill and Linoone were attempting to force their way into the back. The Zangoose’s eyes widened in alarm, as he seemed to forget about the Outlaws around him entirely and bolted for the wagon.

“Ack! Get away from there, you little rats!” the Normal-type barked. “Where’s that lousy aerial cover when you need it?!”

A quick glance revealed the bulk of the activity in the sky coming from the southern end of the encampment, with the flash of massed Protects revealing that the caravan’s ‘mons had been driven off from their wagons and were attempting to dig in and repulse their attackers. Lyle and Kate spat fire and ice after the Zangoose, only for him to pay them no mind and continue barreling off for the strange wagon.

What on earth had gotten into him anyways?

As Dalton and Artem turned their attention to their Golduck counterpart’s injuries, Lyle looked off back at Dolch for a moment, before making their way over to Tauros’ unconscious body. A quick search revealed the Tauros had a satchel, which turned up some some money and a small handful of healing items had been stowed, among them a Tiny Reviver Seed that Dalton took for the Golduck and a pair of Oran Berries that carried faint radial lines on their rinds indicating they’d been exposed and altered by the Distortion of a Mystery Dungeon.

Lyle, Kate, and Alvin snagged one of the Oran Berries and divided it amongst themselves, pressing them haphazardly against the wounds they could reach before popping their remains into their mouths. While the sting of their juices still lingered and they still chewed the Oran Berries’ pulp, a moment of dawning realization settled over Lyle’s eyes: that Grünhäuter wouldn’t have cared so much about that wagon if there wasn’t a reason for him to.

“Finish up those berries quick and let’s move on,” the Quilava insisted, motioning off at the reinforced wagon. “Let’s hit up that wagon over there!”

“Eh? The boxy one the Zangoose is by?” Alvin asked. “Why do we want to fight him again?”

“Because whatever’s in there, it was good enough for him to drop everything to try and defend it!” Lyle explained. “Do you think he’d have done that if it was just another merchant wagon?”

Lyle’s companions traded glances with one another at his explanation, as a devious grin spread over Kate’s face.

“Heh heh, you really are getting back into things, Lyle!” she chuckled. “Come on, let’s go!”

He probably should’ve been a bit more concerned by that comment, but a part of Lyle couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride over the Sneasel’s praise. The Quilava and his companions ran along for the strange wagon, spotting the Zangoose engaged in battle near its front with the Azumarill and Linoone. The three ducked under the wagon and crawled to the rear, popping up behind it where they discovered that it had a reinforced door with a padlock over it. Lyle stopped and blinked out of surprise at the sight. Just what sort of cargo justified that sort of security?

“H-Hey!” a small, raspy voice cried. “Whoever’s out there, get me out of this thing!”

Lyle’s eyes widened in realization that the wagon was a prisoner transport. Breaching it would be a point of no return and be sure to draw the attention of the guards. But if whoever was in there was friendly, surely it wasn’t right to just let them rot in the middle of a raid where they’d already been caught off-guard by the defenders’ strength. If nothing else, they could use some extra helping paws at the moment.

“There’s someone in there!” Kate exclaimed, before Alvin shot a skeptical glance back.

“But how do we know she’s not with the Togedemaru though?”

“Do I sound like one of those spike balls to you?!” the voice inside cried. “Whoever you are, just hurry up and open this thing!”

Lyle hesitated for a moment, before his eyes fell on the padlock and a quick run of his paw over it revealed the metal was brittle and weak. Outlaws didn’t get many opportunities to come to each other’s aid, and for whatever ‘mons were inside this thing, this was as good of one as the three would get to help out. With his mind made up, Lyle forced the fire on his head and tail out into a searing blaze, turning with a sharp bark to his Sneasel teammate.

“Kate, follow my lead and freeze that thing!” he insisted. “If we heat and cool it quickly, it ought to weaken enough for Alvin to bust it with a good swat afterwards!”

“Right!” the Sneasel piped. “Let’s do it!”

Lyle breathed in deep and spewed a small cone of embers on the lock, breathing in to force more out in an almost sustained stream. The flames licked the surrounding wood and charred them as the padlock heated up and turned red under its glow. As soon as the Quilava’s Ember subsided, Kate ran up and breathed out a frigid wind flecked with stray ice and snow that struck the still-smoldering back of the wagon, sizzling and dripping water on contact. The pair repeated the process again, leaving the lock visibly glowing with a noticeable crack that had sprouted along its top, which prompted Alvin to wind up his club and smash the lock.

A sharp chunk rang out, followed by the bottom of the padlock falling to the dirt in pieces. With the back of his paw, Lyle brushed away the remains of the red-hot lock still holding the door closed and threw the door open.

Contrary to their expectations, there was no immediate sign of Pokémon inside once the wagon’s door swung open. Kate pinned her ears back and hesitated, looking about the seemingly empty interior.

“Is this some sort of trick?” she asked. “Sure looks awfully lonely inside for a prisoner transport-“

“I’m back here! Hurry!“

The three raised their brows when the small voice pricked their ears again, its sharp cry bidding them deeper inside the darkened wagon. Lyle hunched forward to allow his head’s flames to better illuminate the back of the chamber. There at the end, they saw the form of an Axew in a cage with a wooden top and bottom with iron bars, donning a mussed gray scarf and bound up with silk webbing. The Dragon-type jostled desperately, looking up at the three Outlaws with frantic red eyes.

“D-Don’t just stare at me!” she cried. “Help me already!”

The Quilava blanched, looking about the cage as a small door with an integrated lock could be seen. Far sturdier than the padlock they’d forced their way through, and without any sign of an obvious weak point to exploit. Why this was just some kid! What on earth did she do to earn this sort of treatment?

“Uh… where do we even-?” he started, when the sound of a sharp hiss reached his ears.

“You!“

The three Outlaws whirled around and saw Dolch at the entrance of the wagon, evidently having fought his way through the Azumarill and Linoone. The Zangoose entered with a low snarl, flashing his claws as he forced his way into the wagon.

“Get your paws off that prisoner!”

Lyle froze as the Zangoose approached in, the Quilava hurriedly spitting up smoke at the Normal-type’s face to stall him. As the Zangoose coughed and tried to brush away the smoke filling the wagon, Kate quickly looked back at the cage and grappled onto it before calling out to her Marowak teammate.

“Alvin! Grab the other end!” she shouted. “We’re gonna throw this thing forward!”

Lyle hurriedly ducked out of the way as Alvin and Kate picked up the Axew’s cage, the Dragon-type’s eyes inside widening with a start as they lifted it up and swung it back just as the Zangoose reoriented himself.

“Wait!” the Axew cried. “Not like tha-!”

Kate and Alvin threw the cage forward, which sailed at the Zangoose’s head. The Normal-type attempted to raise his claws to shield himself, only to get struck in the face and bowled over. The cage sailed up into the roof of the wagon, before falling back down and striking the floor at an angle, which splintered the wood of its base near the bars along the front and spilled the Axew out as the cage collapsed into pieces. The Dragon-type lay stunned for a moment, before stumbling up and whirling around with a furious glare.

“What is your problem, you stupid jerks?!” she fumed. “You threw me straight at an attacking Pokémon!”

“Yeah, well now you’re out, Fräulein₃,” Kate retorted. “So don’t argue with results here!”

The Axew bristled a bit at Kate chiding her like a child, even if she arguably still was one. The three hurriedly shepherded the Axew out, Kate stopping to snatch a coin bag off the stunned Grünhäuter along with one of the dislodged bars lying on the floor of the wagon and made their way back outside with the newly-freed prisoner. There, just as Kate left the wagon, the Zangoose got up cradling his face, pulling a paw back from a snout dribbling blood when he saw the four standing outside, and narrowed his eyes into a livid glare.

“Hey!” he shouted. “I’m not finished with you-!”

Lyle quickly slammed the door shut, prompting Kate to slip the iron bar through the hoop where the padlock had been. As soon as the bar made it through, the Outlaws jumped back with a start at the sound of a heavy thump on the other end the door, as muffled snarls and curses rang out on the other end mixed in with the din of battle in the background.

The Outlaws looked about their surroundings, and after seeing that the back of the wagon and the others nearby were unattended, sighed with relief. The thick of battle must’ve moved deeper into the merchants’ encampment, and the caravan’s still-standing defenders were surely on the run by now.

Perhaps then it was safe for Lyle to indulge his curiosity. The Quilava shook his head and scowled down at the Axew.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “And what on earth were you doing being held prisoner in-?”

A blood-curdling screech suddenly filled the air, as the four looked back towards the front of the wagon and paled. Lyle looked off at the center of the encampment, where he saw a good half-dozen of their comrades running off frantically from a hail of attacks and thrown missiles. Thick bolts of electricity lit up the sky from above, a few figures crashing to earth as others desperately tore away with frightened squawks and shouts.

Among them, he and his companions noticed a Trumbeak frantically trying to fly away from a large, swift-approaching shadow, only for a hail of stones to overtake him from behind and send him crashing to earth. And just behind where the Trumbeak had been swatted out of the sky, he saw the screech’s culprit: the same Aerodactyl from earlier, now staring down at them with a Togedemaru riding on her shoulders who visibly sparked and leveled a nubby paw down at them.

“Down there! Nobody make Dabohru look like fool!” the Togedemaru cried. “Reisenbach! Don’t let Outlaws by priority wagon get away!”

Lyle felt the color drain from his face and his pupils shrank to pins, as he let out a startled squeak and tugged sharply at the Axew from the wagon.

“N-Never mind!” he yelped. “We can talk later!”

Lyle tore along and tried to bolt for the tall grass, turning back to see that Kate and Alvin were doing much the same, with Alvin lagging behind thanks to his kind’s natural slowness. The din of startled cries rang out among the Outlaws further in the encampment, and Lyle’s ears pricked when he heard the earth churn behind him. The Quilava briefly saw stones getting launched into the air from the corner of his eye followed by a blinding electrical burst.

 

And then he felt it. Something heavy struck the back of his head and Lyle tumbled to the ground and watched the world roll about him as he came to a stop. He he heard his companions yelp out in pain, the Quilava wincing and letting out a low whine as he struggled back up to his feet. He was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to feel this light headed, and a quick glance back revealed Kate, Alvin, and the Axew stumbling up groaning, evidently not much better off than him.

A bloodcurdling cry turned his attention skyward and he felt his fire come alight and he screamed out of fear. There above them was the Aerodactyl flying in a holding pattern with her Togedemaru rider, who shot a disgusted scowl down and called out to her in that squeaky voice of his.

“Now, Reisenbach! Finish Outlaws while they still down!”

The Rock-type screeched and swooped in, as Lyle found his body suddenly locking up as the Aerodactyl dove at him with her jaw opened wide, flashing her saw-like teeth. The Quilava flinched and curled up as the sound of churning air drew closer and closer, the Fire-type desperately flaring the fire on his body to try and drive off his attacker, screwing his eyes shut out of fright when a sharp cry pricked his ears.

“Not so fast!”

A deafening electrical crackle rang out, followed by pained screams. Lyle gasped and cracked his eyes open. There, standing between him and the Aerodactyl was Dalton, static still crackling on his and the Aerodactyl’s body from the aftereffects of a thick, crackling bolt of electricity.

The Rock-type desperately pulled up afterwards, when an overpowering whirlwind kicked up and knocked her off-balance. Lyle quickly glanced off above him as the Aerodactyl fought to stay airborne and her Togedemaru passenger clung on for dear life. Sure enough, it was Artem, the Heliolisk’s Swellow buddy from earlier.

Lyle uncurled himself and got back onto his feet after hearing his teammates approaching and barking at him to get up. The Quilava quickly looked up after where he’d last seen Reisenbach and spotted her trying to wheel around, her flight wobbly as her right wing appeared stiff and unresponsive. Blauflamme. After all that, she was still up in the air?!

Wait a minute, that was it! At once, the Fire-type’s eyes lit up, and he called out to his companions and their newfound allies as a bout of dawning realization came over him.

“Quick!” Lyle shouted. “Go for her right wing joint!”

One after the other, the five threw attacks up into the night sky as their elements allowed, with Lyle leading with a cone of fire. He watched as the Aerodactyl frantically ducked and weaved around the incoming attacks: past his Ember, past a bolt of electricity, and a gout of dragonfire from Dalton and the Axew respectively. Lyle tensed up and began to gave chase as he spotted a whirling bone from Alvin miss its mark.

“Agh!”

The Aerodactyl cried out when at last, a frigid gust of wind found its mark and encrusted her joint in ice. The Rock-type’s right wing locked up, sending her spiraling and tumbling to earth with a dull crash. Lyle glanced back briefly to see Kate crack a satisfied smirk, before charging ahead. That Aerodactyl wasn’t going to stay down for long.

He and the others ran over to the wyvern’s crash site, hoping that the impact would’ve finished her off only to freeze and flinch. There, they saw the Aerodactyl struggling to get up and Dabohru righting himself dazedly before shaking his head and sparking back in defiance.

“Th-This not over!” the Togedemaru snapped. “Dabohru will not be defeated by bunch of unwashed Outlaws-!”

Before the Electric-type could finish his words, a shrill cry pierced the air. Lyle looked up as the air rippled his fur, just in time to spot Myra swooping in at the Togedemaru’s flying partner with a flurry of quick, circling tackles. The Staraptor’s wings landing blows almost like punches before one final one struck the Aerodactyl in her chin. The Rock-type toppled over with a pained cry, hitting the ground flat on her back with a weak twitch of her wings.

That one was gonna leave a mark, but gottverdammt was it satisfying to watch. Especially with that dumb-looking expression the Togedemaru had right now.

The Togedemaru blanched as he looked over at his caravan’s fallen aerial escort, when the sounds of shouts rang out from behind them. Lyle looked back at the center of the encampment where the emerging rout of the Outlaws had been intercepted by Parker charging in on a Surf’s wave, breaking the defenders’ formation as she cut down a Bisharp with a swift, retaliating bludgeon from the flat of one of her seamitars. A little ways away, Ford scattered a formation of Togedemaru behind a screen of Protects by abruptly surfacing from the ground with a Dig. All the while, Dabohru visibly quailed and trembled, when the rodent’s nerves finally failed as he let out a frightened squeal and darted off for the path.

“E-Eeeek! Run away! Run away!“

Lyle spat a few cinders after the caravan leader for good measure, as it seemed as if the departed gods smiled on them The front line of the defenders abruptly collapsed as their still-able members tore away for the path after their leader as fast as their limbs would carry them. A few parting blows were traded, the encampment fell to silence but for the sound of Lyle’s pants and racing heart. The groans of wounded Pokémon scattered about snapped him back to attention, with a quick look around revealing naught but disabled and abandoned wagons and cinders from a doused bonfire left behind as evidence of the Roly-Poly Caravan’s earlier presence. Lyle and his companions looked up as Myra went over and snatched a satchel off of the Aerodactyl’s shallowly-breathing body, going back over to Lyle and his expanded party with a smiling nod.

“Nice work out there,” the Staraptor grunted. “Hurry up and grab what you can before these ‘mons start waking up.”

The order was echoed by calls elsewhere in the trashed encampment. Lyle looked about as the wagons teemed with activity with Outlaws going back to pick through them at their leisure. Others went about the fainted defenders left behind to snatch money and items off their persons, with the Quilava noticing a few felled guards that wore armor having their plates stripped as trophies. Still other Outlaws stopped to pull the wounded of their numbers aside to try and treat those who were well enough to walk or be roused, that they might have extra paws to help them cart off loot back to camp.

Dalton and Artem motioned for the others to follow, Kate and Alvin trailing along over to the wagon where they’d been ambushed by the Zangoose and his companions. Lyle started to set off after the four himself, when he noticed the Axew was no longer behind him.

The Fire-type reared up and glanced around, where he spotted the little Dragon-type attempting to slip off into the tall grass, prompting him to dash up behind her and snatch her by her arm. The Dragon-type reacted much as if she’d been suddenly burnt, whirling around and tugging at her arm with a fierce glare.

“Ow! Let go of me!” she hissed.

“Komm runter!₄”

Lyle shot a sharp scowl back after barking at the Axew to calm down and looked down, where for the first time got a good look at the scarf on her neck. The shade of gray reminded him of the shade of the stripes on Grünhäuter scarves, if darker. For its design, it had a pair of black and white swirls that curled in onto each other, with dots that made them appear almost like the eyes of serpents.

He didn’t know what the story was behind those colors, even if something felt vaguely familiar about them. But with his and his companions’ objective being to snag as much loot as possible and slip away, he didn’t exactly have the time to ask for the kid’s back story.

“Look, we just saved your hide back there, and you clearly have quite a few enemies,” Lyle insisted. “The least you can do in return is to hang around us long enough to explain what’s going on here.”

The Axew sharply huffed back and tensed her neck and shoulders, seemingly for a swing of her tusks—only to hesitate. The Axew looked off at the Outlaws pillaging the remains of the encampment, and then back off at the tall grass, where after an uneasy silence, she turned back to Lyle with a low grumble.

“Fine. I guess I can’t argue the point,” she admitted. “But where are you taking me?”

“A safer place.”