Chapter 6 – Carrier

Die Zeit unmittelbar nach dem glühenden Blitz war eine Ära großer Umbrüche. Wie ohne die Menschen, die einst unsere Vermittler waren, wandten sich die Pokémon unserer Welt gegeneinander. Inmitten von Verwirrung und Gewalt zogen sich die Pokémon, die unter den Menschen lebten, in die Räume zurück, die ihre Vermittler gebaut hatten und die nach dem großen Aufruhr der Welt immer noch standen. Zu ihren Türmen, ihren Amphitheatern, ihren großen Märkten. Überall, der zu einer Schanze und einem Zufluchtsort ausgebaut werden konnte.

Diese chaotischen Zeiten ließen unter dem Schutz der Gelöbnis und der Führung von Klaus der Erbauer und der Göttin, die auf seine und unsere Bitten um Hilfe hörte, nach. Nach der Geburt der Ordnung, die unsere Welt untermauert, gab es eine kurze, glänzende Ära, in der es schien, als gäbe es Hoffnung, dass das Wissen der Menschheit gerettet und an unsere Zivilisationen weitergegeben werden könnte. Mit einen großen, strahlenden Glanz, von dem einige sagten, dass es das Potenzial hatte, das wiederherzustellen, was unsere Welt durch den Glühenden Blitz verloren hat. Während andere, der Erbauer selbst eingeschlossen, darauf bestanden, dass es riskierte, sie vollständig zu ruinieren.

Diese Hoffnungen wurden mit Blitz und Feuer in Schutt und Asche gelegt, als Wunsch und Wirklichkeit in Wunder zum ersten Mal zusammen mit den Ländern, die sie als Gönner begrüßten, aufeinander prallten. Da schnitten sich die beiden zum ersten Mal zusammen mit der Schwelle, die zwischen ihnen stand. Inmitten der zurückgelassenen Unordnung wurde jener strahlender Glanz zerschmettert und mit ihm verblasste das menschliche Wissen, welches wir uns noch nicht angeeignet hatten. Was auch immer vor diesem schicksalhaften Kampf der Götter geschrieben worden sein mag, nichts als bloße Fetzen blieben für uns übrig, über die wir uns danach hermachen konnten.

– Auszug aus »Die Wahrheiter Chroniken – Eine kurze Geschichte der frühen Jahre unseres Königreichs«

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The hour after Lyle and his companions reached the top of the hill and set off for Moonturn Square and its anchoring spire went by without incident. The expected scenery of the hinterlands was there, with fields and simple dwellings whose only markers to distinguish them from a Wilder’s nest were the presence of mailposts and mats set out in front of them. A few particularly unenviable abodes of the style consisted of nothing more than such a mat and postbox, with naught but the bare sky above and a threadbare blanket or two for shelter.

Right about when Lyle had predicted they’d come across Moonturn Square, he and his fellow Outlaws approached a wooden bridge over a slender, swift-moving river, built over the stony stubs of something sturdier and more robust that used to stand there. After five prior invasions from Edialeigh, most newer bridges were built in such a fashion. As the four made their way onto the bridge and began to cross, their ears picked up the sound of loud buzzing that hung in the air much like the drone of an angry Beedrill. Kate and Dalton blinked a moment at the sound, as Irune shrank back, looking about nervously.

“What on earth is that noise? Is someone fighting up ahead?” she asked. Lyle quirked a brow briefly, before pinning his ears back in annoyance and rearing up to point off to his left.

“What? You’ve never heard a Schöpfrad₁ turning before?”

Irune turned her head and glanced off at a set of tall, wooden wheels upstream that rotated along with the water. The Axew watched as the wheels kept turning, bringing up buckets that transferred from one wheel to the next up to a stone aqueduct that towered high in the air. The Dragon-type followed the stone channel’s path, seeing the stone was visibly mismatched in color in different places, but snaked off towards the top of a flattened hilltop with straight, steep ledges and almost triangular protrusions that poked out of them. After noticing that the gray spire they saw from afar jutted off into the sky from behind the ramparts, the Axew blinked, and belatedly realized that the wheels were merely supplying water to the town they’d seen off in the distance. She brought a claw up to the back of her head, biting her tongue and blushing a little from visible embarrassment.

“Er… I usually saw smaller and quieter ones,” she replied. “I… didn’t exactly get out of my village much before I became an Outlaw.”

“Hrmph, consider this a lesson then. Just keep an eye out for a wagon we can hitch a ride on,” Lyle said. “We have no idea how much trouble we’re all in right now. Even with these Hunter scarves, I don’t feel like blindly gambling on the Gendarmen at the gate not noticing us.”

Dalton raised a brow back at Lyle, before folding his arms skeptically.

“So then why lead us here if you’re not even confident we can enter the town safely?”

“Again, we’re looking for a Carrier to get us out of here in a hurry. And as a trading hub, Moonturn Square is the closest place to find one,” the Quilava insisted. “If we’re really in enough trouble to the point where a scarf change wouldn’t help us for more than a day or two, we ought to get things squared away for getting out of dodge before word really starts getting around.”

The Heliolisk gave no rebuttal to Lyle’s explanation. Evidently, even though he appeared skeptical, he couldn’t think of a better alternative to propose. Lyle’s other companions seemed more unbothered by his argument, as Kate chimed in with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Personally, I’d be fine with just walking up to the gate and booking it if it looked like the guards were onto us,” she said, rolling her eyes theatrically. “Buuuuut you’re the local here.”

Lyle motioned for his fellow Outlaws to follow him under the bridge, where they crouched and waited. After a few moments, they heard heavy footsteps and rolling wheels approaching, prompting the four to poke their heads out and see a Mudsdale making her way over pulling a wagon laden with crates covered by a worn tarp alongside with a Gurdurr that kept watch with a scavenged metal beam at his ready that had visibly been flecked with patches of rust.

Lyle and the others shrank back into the shadows and waited for the wagon to cross over them, following after the sound of stomping hooves and wheels loudly clattering against its timbered span as the four crept along up the approach of the bridge. Lyle paused and waited for the Gurdurr to head up towards the front of the wagon to talk with the Puller as she stopped, before motioning to his teammates and letting out a low whisper.

“Come on, hurry!”

Lyle darted up to the open back of the wagon and hopped on, spotting a gap between a pair of crates just big enough for him to poke his shoulders into, which a quick glimpse revealed blocked off an empty space further inside. The stoat ducked up, and wedged his body between the crates, before curling in and pushing against the wood just enough to widen the gap just enough for Dalton’s body to fit. The stoat rolled back onto his feet and darted in where he discovered the empty space he’d seen had come from other crates and barrels that had jostled about in transit.

The Quilava heard Dalton follow after him, then Irune, and finally Kate, who wedged her claws into the wood of the rightmost crate and pulled it to the left to make the gap less noticeable. Not a moment too soon, it sounded, as the Gurdurr’s footsteps could be heard and for a brief moment, the Pokémon hesitated just past the freshly-closed gap. The Fighting-type hesitated and prodded at the crate with his beam with a few low thumps. Lyle and his companions held their breaths.

The scent of something that reminded him of seawater hung in the air, hopefully enough to mask their scents, though with how close their quarters were with the Fighting-type… either way, there was nothing for them to do but wait tensely, as worry that the Fighting-type would discover them at any moment burned at their stomachs. Except the feared discovery never came to pass, as they heard footsteps drifting away and a low, grumbling voice on the other end.

“Damn roads always jostle these things around,” the Gurdurr’s voice muttered. “We oughta invest in a better set of ties one of these days.”

Lyle and his companions flinched from behind the crate hiding them from the Gurdurr’s line of sight after hearing it creak against the wood of the cart, before the Gurdurr bodyguard carried on. The cart suddenly jostled forward, Kate losing her footing once and stepping on Dalton’s tail as he struggled to stifle a pained yelp. After growing satisfied that they had not been overheard and attempting to spread out to the best of their ability in the cramped space, Kate slipped her claws between the crates and pulled their covering one rightward, allowing the Outlaws a glimpse of the world behind them.

The wagon rolled along as the bridge and aqueduct shrank into the background, the wagon lurching up along the road up the inclines that climbed the straight, star-like defensive lines. The same ones they’d seen from the hill that led up to the town’s gates where cannons and dart-throwers to sling the likes of Apricorn shot and Blast Seed shells were meant to be wheeled out and dug in in times of trouble.

Lyle cast a wary glance at the surrounding crates and barrels, and shoved at them whenever they jostled too close to his body from a bump in the road. He stiffened up at the sound of chatter from the right side of the wagon, the Quilava wondering for a moment if they were passing a group of guards, only to notice mats and ragged tents pass their peephole along the right side of the road. A few Pokémon like a thin and scraggly-looking Mareep and Flaafy at the side of the road held their limbs out after the cart, only to turn away disappointedly as the cart rolled along.

“… There’s still refugee camps all the way out here?” Kate whispered. “After what I heard about what happened to Port Reyn’s, I’m surprised a place like this hasn’t been cleared out.”

It was a fair question. After all, it’d been seven years since the last Edialeighers from the last invasion had been driven from Varhyder soil or else taken prisoner, barring a few scattered groups that had turned to banditry. Most Pokémon who’d been displaced during the invasion had since drifted back to what was left of their homes, or else to new lives in their adoptive corners of Varhyde. Except, between much of the western coast having been sacked in the years before then, and Carolins seemingly losing their value by the moon, there were a large body of Pokémon that remained in limbo attempting to get by on odd jobs and the food dole outside larger settlements. Lyle could only guess that the refugees here hadn’t become too much of a burden on the town quite yet. Because once they had… well, there were plenty of stories surrounding Port Reyn’s clearances a couple years ago to give an idea of what would happen after that.

“What can I say?” the Quilava sighed. “Not every town is run by heartless bastards.”

Lyle wasn’t sure if he’d rather have preferred such types to have run Moonturn Square or not. The last time he willingly came here was when he’d gone to help recruit for the Foehn Gang about three years ago. Then, just as now, the camp had felt oppressive just approaching it. With how desperate some of the Pokémon they’d sized up as potential recruits were, the whole experience had left a bad taste in his mouth. Some part of him always felt guilty over the Pokémon they ultimately accepted, knowing they’d used those ‘mons misfortune to win over their aid. Much as had been done to him when he first dipped his paws into banditry…

Not that the ones they turned down from the camp back then made him feel much better, especially how gutted some of them looked from being rejected.

It was the first and last time he helped scout for talent as an Outlaw outside of parties that he or a buddy personally knew, but he couldn’t deny it was effective. Maybe some wiseguy among the local garrison figured out the math worked much the same for getting supposedly willful takers for army levies, and that was why the camp hadn’t been cleared out yet.

The refugee camp mercifully slipped from view when the Outlaws suddenly felt the wagon lurch down and heard the clops of hooves and rattling of wheels striking wood. Kate looked back and realized that they were crossing another bridge similar in construction to the one over the earlier river, with ledges that dropped sharply into what looked like some manner of canal that turned abruptly like the points of a star. Kate blinked a moment, recognizing them to be…

“Wait, is that a moat?” she asked. “I thought we were going into a town, not a fort!”

“Larger towns tend to have them,” Dalton remarked. “Still, I’m surprised Moonturn Square could build defenses like these. They couldn’t possibly have been cheap to make.”

Lyle didn’t know the full story behind how Moonturn Square came to have its present defenses—only that they’d been built sometime before his father was born, when the town had been sacked early on in the war. The defenses had been the town’s pride and joy since then, along with its great spire from the human era, and allowed it to endure the worst Edialeigh had thrown against it since then, even if some areas were more obviously patched up than others from past fighting.

Lyle’s mind turned towards tales his father had passed along about the moat. He had allegedly been told stories by his own parents of a time when the moat was originally dry and lined with Apricorn and Blast Seed mines that occasionally messed up some unfortunate traveler that wandered too far off the paths leading up to the town gates at night. At some point since then, the moat was linked to the nearby river and flooded for aquatic Pokémon to live in, and if necessary, to help defend the town with tooth and claw. Lyle was quietly grateful that he could only see a tiny sliver of all the water all about them, lest the knot in his belly get any worse from having his mind remember that he was surrounded by deep water right now.

… Maybe that had something to do with why the local Gendarmen were always looking for ‘donations’. If the defenses weren’t cheap to build, then how much did they cost to maintain?

The cart abruptly jolted to a stop, knocking Lyle down with a stifled yelp as he briefly flared up, blackening the wood of the crate beside him, earning an annoyed glare from Dalton and tense grimaces from Irune and Kate for his trouble. Movement could be heard from outside, as a pair of voices that Lyle couldn’t recognize spoke up.

“Hold it, Mudsdale,” the first voice growled. “We’re gonna need to pull you aside for an inspection.”

Lyle and his companions gulped inside the cart, when the Gurdurr abruptly cut in from outside, giving a frustrated huff in protest.

“We come here every week with the same old Gummi mix from Port Reyn!” the Fighting-type exclaimed. “What on earth is there to inspect?!“

“That’s not important, and I wouldn’t recommend you picking fights you can’t win, Gurdurr,” the second voice buzzed. “Though if you really wanna try your luck, go ahead and take a swing.”

The Fighting-type audibly quieted, and Lyle sucked in a sharp breath as his companions visibly tensed up. Blauflamme! Of all the possible turns of fate to be had, they were going to be discovered by a bunch of Grünhäuter because of their attempts to avoid trouble! The Quilava’s head suddenly felt dizzy and fought hard against a nervous urge to light up, when he heard a neighing voice speak up from ahead of the cart.

“Herr Duodino₂, Herr Scherox₃. I assure you that nothing has changed from the last time we made a delivery,” the Mudsdale’s voice insisted. “Surely we could come to an understanding of some sort?”

… Or maybe they wouldn’t. From the way the Mudsdale was schmoozing the guards and the faint sound of coins jingling from up ahead, it seemed that the Puller they’d hitched a ride with was intending to pay her way out of trouble. There was a tense silence, before Lyle heard the guards murmur amongst themselves, and then the first voice, ‘Herr Duodino‘ from the sound of it, spoke up.

“We guess we can take 30 Carolins between the three of us to move things along.”

“40,” ‘Herr Scherox‘ cut in. “Having two heads doesn’t mean you suddenly get twice as much as me!”

There was a brief silence with the sound of movement in front of the cart, before it lurched forward and carried on. Lyle and his companions looked back as they passed through a stone gate, where much as everyone had gathered from the conversation, they spotted a Zweilous and a Scizor in Grünhäuter armor readying themselves to badger another wagon approaching in the distance. Through their narrow window, the four caught a glimpse of earthen lanes and stone-and-wood shacks with thatched and shingled roofing on either end.

Lyle let out a stifled yelp as he abruptly pitched into one of the crates, the cart suddenly hung a sharp turn and he lit up out of reflex and blackened the wood again. Good thing that wasn’t his stuff there. The Quilava hastily smothered the errant cinders much to his teammates’ frowning annoyance when a tall, broad structure entered their vision from around the corner and the cart suddenly stopped and lingered. After a moment waiting to pick out the Gurdurr’s voice talking with the Mudsdale from the front, Kate wedged herself back between the crates, pushed them wide, before popping out onto the ground behind the wagon and motioning for her teammates to follow.

“Psst! This is our chance to bail!” she whispered. “Before that Gurdurr comes poking around!”

None of the Outlaws needed any further prompting. Irune hopped out first, followed by Dalton, who lost his footing and fell flat onto his stomach, dragging Lyle on top of him with a quiet yelp. The pair laid there and cringed, expecting the Mudsdale Puller or her bodyguard to whirl around at any moment, only to hear the cart’s wheels rumbling and see that she was mercifully lumbering on none the wiser.

“Oi, are you two just going to lie there?” Kate scolded. “Get up already!”

After a moment to catch their breaths, Dalton and Lyle got up with a shared sigh of relief and hurried away from the cart. The four darted out of the lane, which they quickly discovered to be a back alley, and stepped out into the sunlight where their eyes drifted up to the tall gray spire at the center of town.

After noticing that they were still deep in the shade, they turned around and discovered the broad structure they’d spotted earlier: a tall mass of structures built up atop what seemed to be a large, gray concrete base. The whole jumble of buildings had been laid out almost like a ring with small windows and gaily-colored buildings made of wooden timbers and shingled roofs attached to it. Kate, Dalton, and Irune stared at the mass of structures in rapt amazement, only to see that their Quilava guide appeared unmoved beyond a shake of his head as he dropped onto his forepaws and started off for the mass of structures.

“I know where we are,” Lyle said. “Follow me.”

---

After a moment to regain their bearings, Lyle led his companions off towards the tall mass of structures that loomed over the surrounding shacks and huts’ rooftops until the four came across a cobbled road that ran straight from the gate to a broad breach in the heaped-up buildings. Through the gap, they could see that there were really two layers of buildings built on top of some sort of foundational structure underneath with exposed passages at various levels that seemed to lead to other shopfronts and homes built directly among ancient halls and pillars. There was a long, tawny tarp hung from the right end to the left over the gap to provide shade, and the street in between the two sides of the breach was packed with Pokémon and carts making their way in and out of an open space beyond it.

“This is probably the best place to start looking around for a Carrier,” the Quilava remarked. “Come on, there should be some places they hang out in up ahead.”

Lyle’s companions traded curious looks with one another, before the Quilava led his companions past the tarp, where they emerged into a large, almost bowl-like square filled with a bustling crowd of Pokémon of what seemed to be every imaginable form and color. Steps seemed to radiate in all directions around the square, going up some manner of hill that rings of the timbered buildings had been built up along. At the center was a plaza with a prominent pole with lights made of ancient resin hung from it, and colorful stalls and shops about it in all directions.

The four made their way deeper into the square. There was a Turtonator blacksmith working a red-hot lump of metal over an anvil in one of the shops around the ring, a shop displaying scarves from the awning staffed by a Leavanny tailor, and more stalls hawking produce and assorted bric-a-brac than they could count. Why, there was even one specializing in playing cards with illustrations of Pokémon on them that had both youngsters and grown ‘mons alike gawking at its wares.

A few of the places had been obviously styled after various Pokémon, including one prominent, rounded shop modeled after a Kecleon’s head wedged near a set of steps up the bowl-like hill that loomed over the nearby stalls.A number of the shops sported signs insisting on payment in Poké. There probably was some sort of sad comment to be made about how the Kingdom’s own coinage was less trusted than what was essentially merchant scrip from the Colorswap Consortium, but that was hardly an Outlaw’s problem beyond knowing which of the two was safe to hide away in a hole in the ground.

And of course, there were the Gendarmen and soldiers in their green plates loafing around that made the four reflexively stiffen up as they drifted by. Lyle didn’t know if they were on-duty or not, but he doubted any of them had any interest in going over to find out. In spite of it, here in the market, one could almost forget that Varhyde was bleeding and reeling from a war being fought from across an entire sea. The Quilava noted that Irune seemed particularly impressed by the sight, as she blinked and eyed her surroundings with a sense of bewildered awe, before turning with a puzzled tilt of her head to her partners.

“Where are we?” the Axew murmured. “I thought you said we were just going to a trading town, Lyle.”

“This is the trading town. More specifically its central marketplace,” Lyle explained, cracking a small smile. “Long ago, Moonturn Square was founded in and on top of the human ruin underneath all these buildings here. The town obviously outgrew it, but you could pick worse places to build a settlement.”

Lyle led the party over to the lightpole in the center of the plaza and hopped atop a small platform at the base as he raised a paw to scan his surroundings. Dalton stared up at the ancient pole and its wreathing lights, before giving a curious tilt of his head.

“You certainly don’t come across too many ruins like these,” the Heliolisk remarked. “Though do you come here often? You speak as if you’re familiar with this place.”

“I’ve been around enough to get a feel for the place,” Lyle replied. “The field I worked at normally’s about an hour’s journey just west of here.”

The Quilava trailed off and pinned his ears back nervously. He brought his paw back down to his side and glanced about his surroundings uneasily.

“I just hope that that doesn’t work against us…”

“Oi!”

The Outlaws froze and felt their blood chill as they saw a shadow fall over them and heard a low, rumbling voice bark at them from behind. The lot turned around, where, much to their horror, they saw an Aggron in green armor plates glaring sharply down at them.

“That’s a historical landmark, not a bench!” the Aggron snapped. “What do you think you’re doing clambering on it like some Wilder Mankey?!”

Kate, Dalton, and Irune felt the color drain from their faces as the Aggron lumbered forward. Just then, they noticed Lyle’s features ease as he seemed to sigh out of relief, before hurriedly hopping off his perch and forcing a sheepish, apologetic smile over his face. The Aggron stopped briefly and eyed the four suspiciously, when his attention fell on the four’s red-and-silver scarves as he gave a puzzled quirk of his brow.

“Eh? I’ve seen those patterns of yours before,” the Aggron said. “You’re with that traveling rescue team that pulled into the guild the other day. ‘Team Wayfinder’, I think.”

“Heh heh, that’s right, Oberwachtmeister₄Stolloss₅!” Lyle spoke up, giving a cheerful smile back. “Sorry, didn’t realize you weren’t supposed to climb up there. We just joined the team and were having a bit of trouble finding our new digs!”

Kate and Dalton quietly shot back befuddled stares at their Quilava teammate. Thankfully, the armored Aggron didn’t seem to notice them, as he trained his attention back to Lyle with a toothy grin.

“‘Oberwachtmeister Stolloss’? Please, you don’t have to try that hard to get on my good side, Quilava,” he remarked. “‘Sheriff Mack’ is fine. Rolls off the tongue a bit easier, too. Though I assume you were trying to find the lodgings at the Guild, right? Because that’s easy.”

The Aggron turned and pointed off at the gray tower poking high into the sky over the rim of the bowl-like mass of buildings, and then off at a path leading through another gouge in the walls of the central market off in its direction. Lyle and his companions blinked a moment, as mixed in with the traffic, groups of Pokémon in coordinated scarves could occasionally be spotted shuffling off to and from the tower’s direction in pairs, trios, and occasionally in still larger groups. There was nothing to doubt the Aggron’s insinuation that there was Guild for Hunters at the spire, and the Steel-type seemed to be proud of himself for being able to point it out so effortlessly.

“It’s built right in the hollow of the Great Spire,” Mack said. “Why even a Deino wouldn’t be able to miss it!”

Lyle gave a cheerful smile back as his teammates traded nonplussed looks with one another. After flattening her ears out and pawing at her shoulder, Kate warily spoke up and began to pace forward.

“Er… thanks?” she said. “Though I think that we can handle it from here.”

The Sneasel started off for the guild, with Dalton and Irune hesitantly following along. The lot hoped that pretending to head off for it for a minute or two would be enough to keep the guard’s curiosity at bay, only for him to abruptly sidestep and cut off her path.

“Huh? What gives?” Kate asked, only to be met by Mack peering down and holding out an open claw.

“Well, it’s been a bit of a long day on the beat,” the Steel-type explained. “So I was just wondering if you four would be interested in helping a humble Gendarm beat the heat a bit.”

Kate shot a frown back up to the Aggron, before attempting to brush past him with a quiet harrumph.

“… Have you considered just standing in the shade for a bit?” she asked. “I think that’d help you a lot more than anything we’ve got-“

The Sneasel was abruptly cut off by a low growl, Lyle shooting a wide-eyed stare back at her. Kate blinked, before looking back up at the Aggron, where any trace of his earlier friendly attitude was gone, and replaced with a sharp glare with his horns lowered threateningly towards her.
“You oughta not blow off ‘mons so casually when they’re being polite, Sneasel,” Mack insisted. “The least you can do when someone gives you a helping claw is to show a little appreciation in return.”

At once a realization came over the group, as Irune’s features fell into an unimpressed scowl when she realized just why this ‘Sheriff’ wouldn’t let them pass.

“Wait, are you seriously asking for a bribe for giving us basic directions?” the Axew scoffed. “That spire was literally impossible for any of us to miss!”

The Aggron’s mood seemed to take a turn for the worse, as he stomped forward with bared fangs, the Steel-type held a claw out and pointed it accusingly as he snarled down at the little Dragon-type and her companions.

“Look, Fräulein. I bust my tail to help keep little runts like you safe,” Mack snapped. “If you and your team want to have a good time here in town, I’d strongly suggest that you show some respect where it’s due-“

“Here.”

Irune, Dalton, and Kate fell silent as they watched Lyle take an Oran Berry from his satchel and hold it up before the Aggron. The Quilava gave a visibly forced smile, as he spoke up with audibly overeager friendliness to the much bigger and stronger Steel-type.

“We really don’t have a whole lot. Times aren’t exactly easy,” he insisted. “We don’t exactly have any drinks on us, but hopefully this’ll help, won’t it, Sheriff?”

The Aggron took the Oran Berry, and after giving a sniff at it, popped it into his mouth and chewed it. The Steel-type’s features eased, as he gave a knowing smile down at the Quilava and his companions.

“Heh, that stoat friend of yours has got a good head on his shoulders,” Mack remarked. “The rest of you could stand to learn a thing or two from him.”

The sound of a crash rang out as a Clefairy holding a jug staggered about in a daze after knocking over a clay pot off a market shelf, a quick glance revealing the Pokémon had dilated pupils and red stains leaking out the corner of his mouth. An angry, shouting Diggersby stormed out, shoving the Clefairy over as the jug fell to the ground and spilled a thick, red liquid onto the ground. The Sheriff and the Outlaws watched as the Clefairy noticed the spilled liquid and got into an angry scuffle with the Diggersby, Mack throwing a claw over his face with an exasperated growl.

“Gottverdammt, another syrup drinker?” the Aggron grumbled, before shooting a stern frown down at the four Outlaws.

“I’ve got my claws full at the moment,” he harrumphed. “Don’t let me catch you four getting into any trouble again, you hear?”

“Heh, wouldn’t dream of it, Sheriff!”

Lyle forced a smile and waved the Sheriff off before hurriedly scurrying in the direction of the other exit to the marketplace, his companions keenly keeping pace after him. After putting a bit of distance between themselves and the Aggron, Dalton’s face fell into a sharp frown, as he looked back at his Quilava guide with an unimpressed harrumph.

“Hrmph, I never pegged you as the type to grovel like that, Lyle,” the lizard scoffed. “I do hope that’s not going to become a habit for you.”

Irritated fire danced from Lyle’s vents, the Quilava turning his head back with his eyes narrowed into a sharp glare at the Heliolisk.

“That Aggron’s in charge of the Gendarmen of the entire Grafschaft₆ that covers this town and everything within a day’s walk from it, you dense skink,” he huffed. “If you want to burn through these Hunter disguises even faster than normal over your pride and whatever passed for ‘idealism’ on your old crew, by all means, go ahead.”

Dalton scowled back but said nothing in response, as the stoat led his teammates up a flight of steps going up the bowl-like hill. After all, this was familiar territory for Lyle, while he was the ‘mon presently in uncharted waters. Even so, Kate seemed to find something puzzling about the encounter, as she tilted her head back at Lyle with a small frown.

“I thought you said that the ‘mon in charge of the Gendarmen here in Moonturn Square was some bossy pill of a Stoutland,” she said. “You never said anything about him shaking down ‘mons for bribes.”

“What, Sheriff Vandamme? He got deployed to Edialeigh over a year ago,” Lyle replied. “Though that was just him that was clean, and that’s about the best that could be said for him. Considering the sort of ship he used to run with the guards, I’m not holding my breath on him coming back from Edialeigh in one piece.”

The Sneasel flattened her ears and let out a grumbling sigh. Even if it was relieving to know that the local garrison hadn’t been tipped off about them just yet, the wound to their pride lingered with the four. Even Irune seemed bothered by the Aggron’s casual extortion, as she pawed at her shoulder and shook her head with a low grumble.

“Are we going to have to do this for every guard we come across?” she asked.

“Hrmph, those Grünhäuter always give some sort of self-justification for extorting ‘mons like that. Usually they like to pretend it’s circumstance forcing their claws as if just about everyone else in Varhyde isn’t also having troubles with that,” Dalton scoffed. “If we keep our berth from them, we should be able to stay in the clear.”

The Heliolisk’s advice drew a low sigh back from his Sneasel teammate. While it was sound, it was a bit late for them to act on. Lyle watched as the Dark-type pinned her ears back briefly, folding her arms with a wary frown.

“… Weren’t we supposed to be talking to some Carriers right now?” Kate pressed. “Heck, how are we supposed to get a lift without getting asked questions about why we want to get out of dodge so badly?”

Lyle raised a paw and motioned off to a low-slung building up a flight of steps straddling a ramp on two sides that went up to a ledge that stopped just above some rooftops. On it, was a pictorial sign hanging over the door with a merry-looking Tepig and a somewhat drunken-looking Delphox with a mug of beer on it. Completely unsurprisingly, the runes on it revealed the establishment’s name to be the ‘Laughing Delphox and Tepig’, with the smell of stale beer wafting out evidencing if nothing else, there was a tavern onsite. Like most other businesses in Varhyde, the proprietor couldn’t take it for granted that all his customers could read, and while it was a bit subtler than a giant Delphox head, the signboard made it hard to confuse itthe tavern with another shop or competing tavern.

The place looked decently trafficked as well. Up in front of the tavern, a Bouffalant could be seen being unhitched from an empty cart and leaving it behind in a small row of similar carts and wagons wedged between the steps and ramp. The Bouffalant shuffled in through an open entrance lined with pull-down shutters followed by a Pelipper that grumbled about needing a drink after a recent mail run.

… Didn’t they all? Lyle lowered his head, before giving a quiet snort back to his teammates.

“They tend to have a few hangouts they like to gather at in town, and just about anyone will take a job without asking too many questions when the right amount of money is on the line,” he said. “That tavern’s one of their more popular ones in town, and as you can see, it’s conveniently located for us. Come on, there’s bound to be someone inside who’ll take a few passengers.”

The four shuffled up the approach of the ramp and steps and past the eave of the tavern into an open doorway. There inside, they found a musky space that smelt of cheap beer set out with round, wooden tables. On the right side of the room, there was a long counter on one wall manned by an Emboar sporting a few prominent battle scars on his right arm. On the wall behind him was a display of bottles and jugs of various shapes and colors, with a dog-eared set of green army plates proudly hung just to its left. All about, the space was packed with patrons, many of them, like a Rhyhorn standing at a table opposite a seated Ambipom were burly Pokémon well-suited to pulling the carts and wagons up, while others like a Skarmory and a Talonflame preoccupied in a game of chance had wings.

A quick sniff of the air by Lyle revealed it smelled strongly of alcohol and the musk of patrons’ sweat and other markers of a long, hard morning’s work… or at least he hoped that was what he was smelling. Given the likes of an audibly slurring Spinda the four passed by, one could never tell in taverns like these. Sometimes it was better to remain blissfully ignorant. Over the hubbub of the chattering Pokémon, the sound of instrumented music floated over the air carrying a peppy tune.

The Outlaws turned and spotted a small band in the corner on a makeshift stage. A Rillaboom behind a wooden stump of a drum, a Kricketune whistling and chirping, and a Toxtricity with a frill of yellow sparks strumming his chest. Most curiously, there was a Pikachu seated at a row of orbs, rubbing at them to make them chime according to their kinds. Allegedly such arrays of orbs were used by musicians to try and recreate sounds from instruments where the knowledge of how to make them had been lost in the wake of the Great Flash. From the noises that were coming out—some of them that reminding him of a Porygon’s chirps and drones—he guessed that the band was attempting to do much the same. At the fore of the musicians, a second Toxtricity with a frill of blue sparks and matching markings tapped her foot to the tune, before crowing out a small ditty over her gathered audience.

♫ Don’t worry about the future, it’s alright
Because a better picture we can’t find
Just like our dreams, they’ve gotta be free, so
Anyway, let’s move on~ ♫

Lyle pinned his ears back and moved along with a sour frown in reaction to the lyrics of the Electric-type’s song as she continued on with her peppy tune that he was pretty sure had something to do about flying. Even if they weren’t Outlaws who’d had their world collapse around them last night, Varhyde was in its… what, seventieth of war with Edialeigh now?

On top of that, there was the kingdom’s Carolins losing value by the month, the on-and-off food shortages, and the threat of impressment by military levies. Worst of all, there was the lingering specter of the war’s tides turning once again, to the point that the frontlines would come back home from across the sea along with a tide of baying soldiers in red plates.

How could one not worry about the future? Why, the only reason Lyle could think of was if one just concluded there was no future worth worrying about in the first place.

“… Catchy tune, it almost makes you feel like you’re flying.”

Lyle turned his head over to Irune and blinked for a moment, before shaking it back with a low sigh.

“Just don’t get too used to it,” the stoat remarked. “The sooner we get out of this place, the better.”

Lyle shuffled forward as the other Outlaws watched him keenly, noting that as he went about, his attention stopped and lingered over Pokémon seated about the tavern who had wings. Irune looked about and took in her surroundings uneasily, before pawing again at the Quilava with a curious tilt of her head.

“Do you know any of these Pokémon, Lyle?” she asked. “Otherwise how do we know who it’s safe to approach?”

“By looking for someone big who can get into the air and take us along with no questions asked,” he explained. “Even if it’d potentially mean trouble for him.”

Kate and Dalton raised a brow before the three’s attention fell on a Dragonite seated on his own at a corner table with a trio of empty seats. The Dragon-type wore a teal scarf with three white bands forming an inverted triangle intersected with a stroke for a pattern, with a harness meant to be worn along his back with empty bags attached to it that had been dumped unceremoniously on the floor beside him. There, the drake pushed a frothing mug forward, before taking a small flask and pouring a red, syrupy liquid into it. The Dragon-type shook the mug around slightly, before drinking deeply and smacking his mouth, the three Outlaws staring at the sight with quiet blinks.

“Someone like that guy?” Kate asked. “Just how many questions is someone drinking Lansat Syrup gonna ask?”

“Yeah, he’ll do,” Lyle said, nodding back, prompting Irune to turn to him with a dubious frown.

“Will a ‘mon with a substance habit like that even be able to get us out of here in one piece?” she asked.

“We’ll figure out pretty quick after asking a couple questions,” the stoat insisted. “Come on. He’s not going to get any more lucid at this rate.”

The four made their way up to the Dragonite’s table, Lyle, Dalton, and Kate shuffling up the free seats and claiming them as Irune leaned onto her tiptoes to peer over the top. Lyle tapped his paw against the table for attention, prompting the Dragonite to look up from his drink with a start and shoot him a distrustful scowl. Had they really caught this ‘mon that off-guard? One would think that a ‘mon with as good of eyesight as Dragonite were supposed to would’ve seen them heading over well before they made it to his table. Lyle bit his lip and sucked in a breath quietly, before he raised his voice just loud enough to speak over the background chatter.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” the Fire-type said. “Been on a long flight recently?”

“It comes with the territory,” the Dragonite replied. “I’m set to run a batch of parcels out to Newangle City tomorrow morning, so I’m taking some time to unwind before then.”

Lyle tensed up at the mention of the Dragonite’s mention that he was headed off to Newangle City. Why, that was exactly the sort of Carrier they’d need to convince! From his end of the table, Dalton shot a wary glance from the side of his eye at the Dragonite’s flask, before giving a small frown.

“By spiking your drinks with Lansat Syrup?” he asked. “You do know that that’s not supposed to be a healthy mixture, right? Aren’t you worried that anyone will notice?”

The Dragonite pinned his antennae back and shot a sharp glare across the table, clearly not thinking much of the Heliolisk’s line of questioning.

“Hrmph, so I need a little more than some cheap swill to put myself in a good mood and forget about the world around me? So what?” the drake snapped back. “Odsent doesn’t mind as long as he doesn’t have to explain anything that happens in his bar to the Gendarmen, and a little dash like that will just put a ‘mon my size into a minor buzz.”

Lyle hesitated briefly. He’d heard stories of the army tolerating soldiers drinking some berry syrups at least as far back as his father’s own stint in the army. Enough so that some of the merchants that orbited army encampments and garrisons were bold enough to ply flasks under euphemistic names like ‘Drive’. Allegedly there were even some ‘mons among the Trosse₇, the entourages that trailed after army units in the field, that had gotten into the act themselves.

There were syrups that went around among them made from the likes of Chesto Berries to stay alert and the likes of Kasib Berries to dull feelings of fear and anxiety, but never Lansat Berries. Whatever its effects for putting Pokémon into good moods, not even the most incompetent Hauptmann would tolerate his underlings going off to fight with their senses distorted as badly as what Lansat Syrup was capable of.

Gods, they had gotten lucky here. They’d found a Carrier who was already headed towards Newangle City, had reason to be tight-lipped around the guards, and was even making his next leg at just the right time they needed…

So naturally with the way the stars were lining up, there had to be a catch to fortune this good. Though there was only one way to find out what that would be, and it’d do them good to get a better feel for this ‘mon anyways.

“That’s actually about what we were hoping to hear from you, Dragonite,” Lyle said. “Got a name by any chance? We were wondering what your rate would be to take four passengers out towards Newangle City as part of your next run.”

The Dragonite paused, before shaking his head and lifting his mug again with a sharp frown.

“It’s ‘Hermes’,” the Dragonite replied. “And sorry, I don’t do passengers. I can’t fly as fast while carrying ’em, and they’re too much of a liability to keep safe on my runs.”

“Too much of a liability for a Dragonite to keep safe?” Kate asked, raising a brow. “That shouldn’t be a hard feat for a ‘mon of your sort. Though it makes me wonder how on earth a tough guy like you managed to dodge conscription all this time-“

Hermes seemed to reflexively stiffen up at Kate’s ‘tough guy’ comment and quietly bared his teeth. Maybe Hermes wasn’t as tough as he looked. Lyle supposed he’d heard of stories before of Wilders that had evolved unnaturally early from exposure to the Distortion of Mystery Dungeons… had something similar happened to him in the past?

Whatever the story behind it was, the comment seemed to have hit a nerve. Given the turn in the ‘mon’s mood, it was probably for the best not to press the matter further.

“Look, having flights that go wrong on your record isn’t good for business for a Carrier. Especially ones with passengers,” he spat. “I already have my claws full keeping parcels safe from Outlaws and crabby Wilders taking pot shots at me during my runs.”

Kate, Dalton, and Irune traded wary glances with one another. The Sneasel of the group pawed at Lyle and quietly mouthed ‘let’s just try someone else’, only for him to brush her off and harrumph back at the Dragonite.

“Everybody’s got a price at which they’re willing to make an exception,” the stoat insisted. “So what would be yours?”

Hermes drank from his mug, before folding his arms and scowling. The drake reflexively opened his mouth to speak, before pausing and easing his features with a skeptical tilt of his head.

“And what’s got you in such a hurry, huh?”

“That’s not any more important than us knowing why you’ve got illicit substances on you,” the Quilava retorted. “The point is that we need a lift in the direction of the Capital.”

The Dragonite said nothing at first, before narrowing his eyes back at the four across the table.

“Maybe, but you can’t expect me to accept a job from a ‘mon that can’t give me any details to work with. Why, you haven’t even told me your names,” the Dragon-type scoffed. “What’s gotten you so tight-lipped? Did you four kill someone or something?”

Kate and Dalton shifted uneasily, as Lyle paused with his features kept in a firmly neutral expression, before he spoke up with an impatient huff.

“… You don’t need to worry about it, just like we don’t need to worry about the things you do to keep yourself going in the day,” the Fire-type replied. “Though the name’s ‘Igel’. My pals and I together are ‘Team Forager’, the Exploration Team we put together.”

Hermes raised a brow at the Quilava and curled his mouth into a frown.

“Your parents seriously named you ‘Igel‘ when you hatched? As in the same ‘Igel’ from ‘Feurigel₈‘? Talk about being unimaginative,” he scoffed. “What, do you have a brother named ‘Quil’ or something?”

“Look, you asked for a name and I gave you one, alright?” Lyle snapped. “So just what’ll the cost to persuade you be?”

“Where specifically do you need to go?” the Dragonite asked. “I’m running an express flight tomorrow and the only stop I was planning on making was at Toya Square to rest my wings a bit before making the final push into Newangle City.”

“Toya Square would be fine,” Dalton cut in. “We were planning on doing some missions on our way into the capital to work towards our team rank, and Toya Square’s a couple days’ journey from there on foot at most. Works out fine for us. Just give us a number to work with.”

Hermes moved a claw to his chin as he mulled things over for a moment. The drake still didn’t seem particularly enthused with the proposition, but from how long he was wavering, he clearly had thought of a price he’d be willing to entertain. The Dragon-type lowered his head, before letting out a gruff harrumph in reply.

“If you really want to come along, I’ll do 25,000 Poké for the four of you. Bring it an hour after sunrise, since that’s when I’m leaving,” Hermes said. “Carolins have been inflating a bit more than normal this month, so might as well get paid in something with a bit more security.”

Lyle couldn’t help but have his body’s fire flicker to life with a brief start, as his companions visibly blanched. 25,000 Poké?! Lyle knew that air travel got expensive, but he didn’t know it got that expensive!

Why, even if they exchanged everything they had to their name from the caravan raid into Poké, it still wouldn’t have been enough. In fact, it was probably worth more than what their combined bounties were at the moment!

The other Outlaws stared back blankly at the Dragonite, as Irune spluttered, before waving her claws with an indignant huff.

“How’s any ‘mon supposed to come up with that in a day?!” she demanded.

“Look, last-minute flights in general aren’t cheap, buddy. Especially since I’d need to get a set of loops made in a day to carry you safely,” Hermes snapped back. “You asked me how much it’d take for me to make an exception for carrying passengers? Well that’s my price. If that’s too rich for your blood, find some other Carrier to take you out to Toya Square!”

The four Outlaws traded uneasy looks with one another. Would it make sense to just approach another Carrier? They’d known that Carolins didn’t buy what they used to in Poké, but 25,000 Poké for a flight for four that didn’t even make it all the way to Newangle City was little better than extortion!

… But then again… were they actually in a position to consider other options? There weren’t many Pokémon that worked as Carriers that could carry a party of four at once. Or who were willing to take last-minute passengers at all. Would anyone else really offer them a cheaper price? Bright and early the next morning? For no questions asked?

Lyle traded glances with his teammates. He couldn’t tell if this ‘mon had quoted them such a high price to try and get them to buzz off, or else if he’d somehow put two and two together that they were stuck between a rock and a hard place and was trying to wring them dry. But it was hard to argue they had many other options. The money they did have would at least get them most of the way to Hermes’ price, wouldn’t it? After a noticeable pause, Lyle noticed Dalton shake his head back from the corner of his eye, and let out a low sigh in response.

“We’ll see what we can do, alright?” the Heliolisk sighed. “But you’re definitely not making this easy.”

The four got up and retraced their steps out of the tavern for the lane. All the while, Irune stared blankly at the ground, wracking her mind as to how they could even begin to get that sort of money in a mere day. The Dragon-type looked up at her teammates to ask them for ideas, where much to her surprise, none of them seemed particularly worried about the matter and more concerned with the name Lyle had offered up as their team moniker.

“‘Team Forager’? Seriously, Lyle?” Dalton scoffed. “Why didn’t you just go ahead and introduce us as ‘Team Bandit’?”

“Yeah, if you were going to be cheeky with names with hidden meanings, you should’ve gone with something like ‘Team Raider’,” Kate chimed in. “At least that one sounds impressive.”

The Quilava let out a defensive huff, the flames on his vents flaring up in annoyance.

“Look, when a ‘mon talks about a ‘forager’ the first thing that comes to mind’s some peasant picking berries in the woods and not someone lurking in said woods waiting to jump them,” the Fire-type shot back. “Double entendre or not, it’s not that bad of a name.”

Irune blinked at her teammates’ seeming nonchalance, before giving an impatient stomp of her foot and crying out to them incredulously.

“Will you three just shut up about the names for a moment?! How can you all be so calm?!” she demanded. “25,000 Poké would be almost enough for the four of us to each learn Outrage from a move tutor!”

Lyle, Kate, and Dalton traded glances with one another, before the Quilava looked back at the Axew with a shake of his head and low murmur.

“It’s not such an impossible figure. For one, I’m pretty sure the loot we’ve got between us will get us about two thirds of the way there after we convert it,” Lyle said, before pawing at the back of his neck with a quiet wince.

“The last third’s… a bit of a lift, yes, but we’ve got ways of scraping that much together in a day. One that should be right up our alleys,” the stoat insisted.

Irune blinked back puzzledly at him. “Wait a minute… we do?”

Lyle cast a glance around, before leaning in with a low whisper.

“We steal it, of course. What else were you expecting?”