Chapter 6: The Threads of Fate

Torr knew when he was being watched. Dungeoneering intuition. Or perhaps thieving intuition. Whatever. It’s an unusual feeling of apprehension, a mixture between butterfrees dancing in his stomach and adrenaline coursing through his veins. As the krokorok walked along the Gaslight District promenade with his old friend, he couldn’t shake this ominous feeling.

The two sauntered down the stretch of cobblestone snugly fit between two nearly identical rows of stock buildings, most of which were empty. Grimy sundries and splintered furniture littered the sides of the road. What was once a busy hub of commerce was now a dilapidated plaza of broken dreams. There were still several mons milling about, mostly weary housewives deliberating between the two remaining bakeries and elderly citizens who had nothing better to do than reminisce about the days gone.

It was a sight for sore eyes, but that was hardly surprising. The coal industry had really gone downhill since the rise of synthetic energy.

“Here’s what remains of the Giving Fountain.” Poliko pointed at a nondescript pile of rubble sandwiched between two foreclosed storefronts.

“What in distortion happened to it?”

“The city decided giving was overrated.” Poli shrugged. “Truth is, mons just left. The gaps in the labor market slowly go unfilled, and now, there’s no one left to maintain this bloody place.”

“Dunno, seems like there are still miners aplenty.”

“Oh, but you know the mayor won’t spare any expense on the breadwinner of the city. Of course the first to get cut are public servants. This place’ll keep mining until it turns itself into a grimy block of cheese.”

“So, is there anywhere that hasn’t been beat into the dirt yet?”

“Umm, there’s still those Vanil-Nice stands at the edge of the square, if you want to grab some on our way back.”

Torr nodded eagerly. “Let’s go.”

###

As the bell tolled ten in the evening and the city lights grew dim, residents began trickling out of the market square and back into their huts. Torr and Poli sat by a heavily tarnished silver statue of a bronzong at the center of the square while enjoying some icy delights. The Vanilluxe Berrymix Deluxe was one of few remaining delights that struck at the fleeting nostalgic chords Torr had left for this soulless city. Its refreshing fruity core was enveloped in a smooth layer of vanilla cream, topped off by a fluffy blanket of sticky rice cake. They didn’t have this stuff over in Estias. Finally, his cravings could be satisfied.

But Torr’s enjoyment was cut short by a sudden yet subtle glint of steel in the bush to his left.

“Poli, not to be cliche but…” Torr downed the rest of his frosty snack in one bite, hoping it wouldn’t induce a poorly timed brainfreeze. “I think we’ve got company.”

Like clockwork, a bisharp leaped out of the bush directly in front of Torr, knife arms brandished.

“Seems like the gig is up.”

“Hello, uhhh… Jinko, was it?” Torr squinted at the assailant, then turned to Poli, who had whipped out their bone club. “At last, some action in this shithole. I was getting so bored.”

The bisharp was unamused. “Team Vigilant sends their regards.”

Torr stood up and crossed his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Alright, lapdog, I’m ready to dance.”

As Torr’s words left his mouth, a houndoom trotted onto the scene from an alley to their right.

“Weren’t planning on fighting two on one, were you? That’s playing dirty,” the canine said haughtily.

“Oh, hi Nisa. You would know about playing dirty, crashing my grand reunion with old friends,” Torr retorted. “Seems like I’m not a high priority target if they’re just sending you guys to deal with me. Run out of graves to rob, you lobotomized sock puppet?”

“Filthy exploration teams and unchecked egos. Name a more iconic duo,” the houndoom spat back. She circled around Torr and Poli, eyes locked on them. “Keep being a condescending prick and you’ll end up six feet under.”

“Oh, enough cheesy banter and get on with it already,” Poli interrupted, to the surprise of everyone. The scowling marowak twirled their club and swung it at Nisa, who performed a Detect just in time, blocking the weapon with an orange bubble shield.

“Poli… you really shouldn’t get inv-” Torr began.

“Ooh, this commoner’s got bite! Jinko, let’s get this show on the road.” Nisa cackled sinisterly with fire in her eyes. She was a real piece of work.

Her bisharp teammate blinked forward to launch a Night Slash with his bladed arms, grazing Torr’s left arm. A grimacing Torr counterattacked by stomping a crater into the ground, striking the steel type with a barrage of jagged earth. The unexpected Bulldoze knocked Jinko onto the dirt.

Upon seeing her disoriented comrade, Nisa turned her focus towards Torr. The houndoom’s eyes glowed purple for a split second, allowing Torr to react to the incoming Will-O-Wisp. The blast of purple energy hit the bronzong statue behind him, generating a resounding BWONGGG.

Without missing a beat, Nisa threw up another Detect, denying Poli’s Bone Rush yet again. With wicked speed, the houndoom turned her attention back to Poli and leapt at the disoriented marowak, launching a Foul Play. The flurry of claws followed by a vicious headbutt sent Poli crashing into a stack of empty crates beside an abandoned storefront.

Torr’s vision went red upon seeing his friend downed. The passion of battle knows no bounds. “You piece of shit. I’ll kill you!”

Before Nisa could respond with any more smug dumbassery, the earth beneath her feet erupted into a torrent of stone. The houndoom was launched airborne, a trail of rubble left in her wake. Torr swiveled forcefully, his tail connecting with Nisa just before she hit the floor. The fire type went flying right past a fainted Poli and through the window of the empty store, shattering the glass panes.

Sensing some movement from behind him, Torr turned and threw a Sucker Punch. His fist went wide, completely missing the bisharp who had its arms above his head, performing a Swords Dance. Silver streaks of mystical energy engulfed Jinko’s bladed arms as he completed the ritual and stared at Torr menacingly.

“What’s going on here?“

The two combatants turned to face the interloper. A colossal tyranitar stood at the edge of the square, arms crossed. He glanced coldly at Torr, then at Jinko. A few klinks and klangs orbited around his torso, contributing to his imposing aura. “Fighting is prohibited in my city. Care to state your cases?”

“Ah, mayor!” Torr’s anger seemed to subside as quickly as it came. He flashed a smile and pulled up his defunct guild badge pinned to his red scarf. “I’m with the guild, sir, and I was brought here to capture this ruffian and bring him to justice!”

“What? Hey, wait no. I’m with the guild, and he’s the criminal!” Jinko sputtered.

“Do not listen to this devious wordsmith! He’s been creating counterfeit guild identification and distributing it around the state!”

“He’s lying through his bloody teeth.”

“That’s enough,” the tyranitar boomed, a look of deep scorn written on his scarred face. “You’re both coming with me.”

###

Poli wasn’t kidding. The mayor’s manor was massive. And thoroughly out of place. The golden mansion spanned almost the entire width of the underground coal town, sticking out like a sore middle claw. As they entered, they were met with a glistening arcanine statue five times Torr’s height that stood at the forefront of a carpeted hall. Well, it was less like a hall and more of a ballroom. A rotating cerulean chandelier hung at the center of the ceiling, sparkling up the floor with constant iridescent flares. Evenly-spaced grandfather clocks were embedded into the walls, emitting a series of droning tics and tocs.

“Hey! Get a move on!” Torr’s klang escort gave him a nudge. “We need to get to the courtroom.”

“Courtroom?”

“Yeah, the courtroom. Where you will be tried for your crimez against Klinklaton.”

“Why is the courtroom in the mayor’s manor?”

“Cuz he iz the law.”

###

The courtroom looked more like an old fashioned theater than anything. The judge’s table was placed above a stage, which was fitted with a parted velvet curtain. There was a cluster of seats aligned perpendicular to the judge table on both sides of the room. The podium was at the center, adjacent to two small tables.

“We’ve arrived. Take a seat before the stands,” the mayor demanded as they finally made their way in. Jinko and Torr complied, seating themselves at the tables near the podium. The mayor stepped onto the stage and took his seat as the judge.

“I, Mayor Rorick, will be the judge, jury, and executioner of your situation. You two were caught disturbing the peace, destroying property of the state, and inciting violence. The Guild has not contacted me about either of your arrivals.” The tyranitar cracked his knuckles. “The bisharp, first.”

“Me and my teammates were sent after a congregation of S-rank criminals on a short notice. We were specifically given a license to kill.” Jinko pulled out a neatly folded sheet of paper and laid it on the table. “Signed by the magnificent guildmaster herself. This krokorok is undeniably one of the fugitives in question.”

“And what have you to say against this, krokorok?”

“First and foremost, your honor, I would like to humbly apologize for bringing havoc upon your city. However, this bisharp fellow is a vile fraudster that has endangered countless lives across the nation by distributing forged guild documents, including the one he just procured.

“Initially, I came to Klinklaton to visit some old friends of mine. However, I was unaware that the nefarious bisharp Rinzo and his outlaw gang was hiding here. Upon realizing that I was part of the guild, he attacked me out of the blue!”

“What the- absolutely nothing he said is true! My name isn’t even Rinzo.” Jinko exclaimed, pointing at Torr. “He’s clearly the true criminal!”

“Well, it seems we have arrived at an immediate impasse. I have no choice but to lock both of you up until I get a response from the guildmaster, as neither of you have definite evidence,” the mayor said.

“Just a moment, mayor. Surely we have some civilian witnesses that can testify on my behalf. One being my good friend who Rinzo’s ruffian sidekick brutally knocked out at the scene of strife.”

“That’z true boss! There was a fainted marowak laying in the middle of the square! Methinkz it was Liebe’z partner,” one of the klangs orbiting the mayor piped in.

“Raagh, what a hassle. Fine, bring them in. We don’t want to get in trouble with the guild.” Several klink zoomed out of the room at the mayor’s cue.

“This is ludicrous! I have indisputable evidence!” Jinko jumped up and waved around the contract wildly. “When the guild hears about this nonsense we will be revoking service-“

“Silence!” the major roared. “No further interruptions, if you don’t want to end up in the dungeon immediately.”

The bisharp hissed bitterly and sunk back into his seat, his bladed body shredding the velvet cushions.

###

As the congregation waited in awkward silence for the witness to arrive, Torr’s conscience emitted an unfamiliar pang of guilt. He was built from his brazen confidence; his character was molded by it. He was born to be independent in the stricken slums of Palomere, and, for the longest time, his recklessness could only affect himself. But things are different now. The many years at the guild had not changed him, and now his friends are waist-deep in a pool of his own selfish controversies.

Now, it’s his responsibility to get them out of it.

A few minutes later, a dopey but now conscious Poli limped into the room. The marowak cracked a sheepish smile upon seeing Torr.

“Oh thank the Therians you’re okay.”

“This skull don’t crack that easily,” Poli responded, tapping their mask lightly with their club.

“Ahem,” Mayor Rorick exaggerated as Poli took their seat between the two defendants. “Poliko, you were here to witness and experience this brawl. Please explain, from start to finish, what transpired.”

Poli gave their account of the events, starting from when they were eating ice cream.

“Interesting. The guild must not be very busy these days if you’re out on vacation during recruitment season,” Rorick stated suspiciously, side-eyeing Torr.

“The rookies of yesterday become the heroes of tomorrow. Recruitment is at an all time high these past couple of years, which affords us more leisure time,” Torr replied without missing a beat. He wasn’t lying. Recruitment had almost doubled from five years ago as the guild built their prestige. Their incredible ability to strongarm villains to submission rang in the hearts of young adventurous souls across the nation. Dungeoneering was becoming an exciting mainstream career choice, rather than just an odd-job for those who didn’t quite fit in.

“Hmm, yes. So you’re a former resident of Klinklaton. Now that I think about it, I do recognize you, now that I think about it. The young sandile thief living with the smith’s apprentice, up and left when my uncle was still in office.”

“Reformed thief, for the record. I worked my ass off cleaning my slate.” Torr tapped his foot, mildly vexed by the mayor’s statement.

“That’s right! Crime free for three years,” Poli piped up in Torr’s defense.

“Fair enough.” Rorick turned to face the bisharp, who was digging his blades further into the poor chair in frustration. “A solid testimony from Torr and Poli. Would you like to cross examine, Sir Rinzo?”

“It’s Jinko, you imbecile.” The steel type’s deathly stare grew intense. “And I’ve had enough of this moronic case.”

Jinko slammed a blade into his desk, splitting it in two and releasing a cloud of splinters and dust.

“HEY, WH-” The mayor slumped over his table, unconscious. A hulking feraligatr stood behind the collapsed tyranitar, wielding a steel baton. Several gnarly stripes of dark pink scars ran down the entire left side of his face down to his pecs. The sinews around his eye formed a black ring that twitched menacingly.

“‘Cressinger Guild’s Team Diablo dismantles corrupt mayor protecting dangerous outlaws.’ A sensational headline!” Jinko cackled, crossing his blades above his head to perform his signature swords dance.

“RED ALERT! RED ALERT!” The klinks and klangs spun around in a frenzied panic. “ELIMINATE THE INTRUDERZ!” Several arcs of electricity crackled through the air toward the mayor’s assailant. The muscular feraligatr raised his baton above his head. The rod flashed as it absorbed the dozens of white rays, grounding all the electric attacks.

Torr spun into action amidst the madness, grabbing Poli by the wrist and running toward the exit. Jinko swiveled and took off after them, ignoring all the frantic gear pokemon.

“This is insane,” Poli muttered, trying to crawl out of Torr’s grasp and get on their own footing as they sped through the mansion. “Let me go. I can run too.”

“My bad.” Torr let go of his friend, who stumbled but kept the pace. “But we gotta make a dash for it. Keep up.”

“Why don’t we just fight him again?”

“Oh, I’m not scared of Mister Butterknife. They got Cykk the Craniacrusher with them.”

“The Craniawho? Is that…”

“Yep,” Torr replied, pulling Poli’s arm as they made another turn. The sounds of mayhem echoed around the manor as they sprinted away from the scene.

---

“Hey. Dolkka, was it?” Raize asked as he entered the living room, brushing past a row of linen drapings.

The archen looked up from the tiny journal he had been scribbling in for the past hour. He cocked his head, then nodded.

“Well, I suspect we’re gonna be together for a while longer.” Raize took a seat next to the attentive kid. “So, what’s your story?”

The archen gave Raize a forlorn look, then started writing again.

Nothing.

“Damn, ominous. Well, this company’s perfect to start your story with, promise.” Raize pointed toward his chest smugly. “Y’know, I also had no direction once. Until destiny brought me to where I belong.”

Dolkka chuckled silently, his sudden change in mood surprising Raize. You’re weird.

“Hey! I just wanted to share some nuggets of wisdom,” Raize said defensively, trying to shake off the embarrassment. “Well anyways, you seem like a bright kid. Just wanted to get acquainted since you’re on the team now for the foreseeable future. What are you writing in there?”

Some stories.

“Not about yourself, I presume?”

The archen shook his head.

“Can I read them?”

No. Not yet.

“Alright. I’ll leave you to it, then.

Raize stood up and stepped toward the door. His ears perked up, detecting shrill sirens followed by some screams and shouts coming from outside. “Hmm, do you hear that? What’s with the ruckus at this hour?”

He rushed out of the room and straight to the front door, carefully opening it and peeking outside.

“Uh oh.”

---

“Where are you going… mate, are you crazy? Don’t get Liebe mixed up in this mess too.”

“He’s already in this mess. My connection with him is clear.”

Poli’s eyes grew narrow beneath their mask. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

The duo sped down the gloomy promenade, dodging and weaving between random barrels and sundries and heading directly toward the old blacksmith’s abode. They didn’t dare look back, but the incessant buzzing of klink sentries was comforting. The city was on their side… for now.

As they got closer, Torr could make out an unmistakable orange silhouette at the doorstep.

“Hey Rai!”

“What is it this time?”

“Turns out the guild hasn’t forgotten about us.”

Raize’s eyes narrowed. “Who did they send?”

“Nisa’s team. And unfortunately, Cykk is actually with them this time.”

“Oh boy. Are they still on your tail?”

Torr peered back at the street behind him. A few mons had opened their door, wondering what the noise was at this hour. Myriad sirens could be heard in the distance, but the source of the commotion was distant.

“Looks like it’s the city’s problem for now. Don’t worry, those numbskulls defnitely underestimated security in a city like this.”

“Phew. So, uh, what’s the plan?”

“We get the fuck outta here…”

“Wait a bloody second,” Poli interjected. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just yet young man.”

“Ahem, yes, of course. Rai, could you excuse us for a few?”

“Yeah of course, take your time.” Raize stepped back into the building and gently closed the door.

Poli let out a deep sign, lifting their paw up to rub their temple.

“Torrenek.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten you two wrapped up in any of this. I didn’t mean t-“

“But you did. You haven’t changed one bit, always dreaming up these bloody awful plans and rushing in head first without any forethought. And it looks like you’ve gone and surrounded yourself with a couple yes-mon who are either unwilling or too incompetent to give you a second opinion. Sorry isn’t enough this time ’round.”

“I get it. I will pay my dues, I always do.” Torr gulped a large lump of guilt back into his stomach, then sighed. “So, you’re gonna come with us?”

“Well, we’re really left with no choice once the city figures out what’s up. But we can’t hit the frog and toad just yet. We still need to pack. How much time do you reckon we got?”

“It’ll probably take at least a few days until the guild gets word.”

“Don’t you guildies have them magical badge thingies?”

“Those hardly work within the city. The signal cannot be transmitted farther than like a few miles.”

Poli stopped rubbing their head.

“Looks like the situation isn’t as critical as I thought. Let’s get some shuteye, you’re gonna need it for tomorrow.”

“Again, my fault. I promise I’ll do anything I can to make the business flourish in Ardenvale.”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t doubt your skills in that regard. But there’s one promise you keep breaking. Liebe is too mellow to give it to you straight, but I’m warning you that this is my last straw.”

Poli walked into the building and into their room, shutting the door. Oh, the nostalgia of being scolded by Auntie Poli.

The sirens in the distance grew few and far between and curious murmurs of the city slowly faded into the night. After basking in the evening Klinklaton glow, Torr headed into the building as well.

His reclusive hydreigon teammate lay on a stack of linens on the living room floor, eyes shut.

“Hey Black. I know you’re up. Did you hear all that?”

“More or less.”

“May I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why do you never question my plans?”

“There’s no point.”

“Am I really that stubborn?”

“Yes. But it’s not that.” The hydreigon blinked and stretched his hand mouths. “It is because I believe in fate.”

Torr paused. “Man, you’re a big sack of secrets. What do you mean by that?”

“I prefer to let the winds of fate guide me. Simpler that way.”

The krokorok snickered. “And I’ve been playing the role of your ‘winds of fate’, huh.”

“Something like that.”

---

The sun had just peeked over the horizon as the trio and their now permanent addition trudged out the gargantuan cast iron gates of the cliffside city. An amber glow blanketed the rocky mountains in the distance, which served as an immovable border to the state of Ardenvale. The chirping of bird pokemon in the distance and the rustling of trees formed a tranquil morning rhythm. The crisp outside air cut through the former mustiness like a pinch of tamato sauce on a slice of stale bread. Raize’s nose scrunched up as he recalled the first meal he ate outside of the guild just a few days back. He missed Marshtomp’s Grotto.

The raichu’s world had been turned upside down in the blink of an eye. As hard as he tried to maintain a peachy facade, his nerves betrayed him. His usual confidence had completely melted away into a pathetic puddle of anxiety. He needed to keep his mind off himself for a moment.

“Are you sure they’ll be fine back there?”

“Team Diablo will stay locked up for a good while until word gets to the guild. The mayor seems in no rush to report the incident, since I assured him he got the right guy.”

“Ok. Wait, what about those bandits you were so desperate to recruit yesterday? You told them to be here at noon. We’re heading out like, six hours early.”

“I thought you said they’d be bad company.” Torr squinted. “Well, if they really wanted in, they’d be here by now.”

“Aww, that’s a bit unfair isn’t it? Now I’m even feeling a bit bad for them. Wait a second, is that…”

“Dang, speak of the devil.”

Down the road, the silhouette of an ornery snake and a shaggy wolf emerged from the wisps of morning fog.

“You knew this would happen.”

Torr shrugged and maintained a smug smile. He cupped his claws around his snout and shouted. “Hey there, friends! Come to a verdict?”

“Yep! We’re coming with you guys!” The mightyena named Pashu dashed ahead of his companion, skidding to a halt before Torr.

“What ever happened to ‘noon’? Plan on leaving usss behind?” Caranaga flicked his tail back and forth as he caught up.

“Just the first of my little tests. You passed! Good work. Any bandit worth their salt knows to secure the premises no less than six hours in advance.”

“I’m gonna hate working with you,” the arbok muttered.

“Wow, I haven’t passed a test since like… the third grade!” his mightyena beamed.

What an odd duo. There was a fair share of curious folk at the guild, but Raize had never seen a team this mismatched before. It was always a pleasure meeting interesting mons, even if they may be outlaws.

“And with that, welcome to the Nightscale Order!” Torr exclaimed with a toothy smile.

“The what?” Raize side-eyed his friend, thoroughly confused,.

“You didn’t think we’d be using our guild team name, didya? We need to lie low.”

“Fair enough. But couldn’t you have come up with something uhh, not lame as hell?”

“It sounded cooler in my head, I’ll admit. You got any bright ideas?”

“Yeah, actually. How about the Shockfur Squad?”

“No.” Torr shot down the idea with a glare. “Black, your turn.”

The hydreigon let out a nettled huff, but otherwise remained silent.

“Nothing?” Torr scratched his snout. “Alright then, let’s compromise. The Shockscale Syndicate.”

Raize pouted. “Now it fits neither of us.”

“Guess we’ll just have to recruit a heliolisk.”

“Dude. No.”

Torr tapped his chin in thought. “Okay, okay. Here’s something more generic. The Fatespinners.”

“Dude, whatever, fine. I’m just itching to hit the road.”

“I’m raring to go, too!” Pashu piped up.

“Onward!”

And with that, Raize was on the move again. Torr always managed to shove him out of his comfort zone one way or another, and, for once, he was oddly grateful for it. All of a sudden, his mood took a wild turn for the better. He wasn’t sure if it was the added company, the banter with his friends, or something else entirely, but the thrill of adventure set in for the first time since his early days in the guild. His terrible anxiety was starting to transform into a longing anticipation. He’ll miss the buds back at the guild, but a whole new world was about to unravel in front of him. He was opening a new chapter, a thrilling sequel to his eventful guild life. With a determined grin plastered on his muzzle, he marched on toward the craggy mountains over yonder.

“Hey Rai? The taxi carriages are that way.” Raize was snapped out of his visions of grandeur by his teammate. “You didn’t actually think we’d be walking through the Azan Slopes, did you?”

“Oh. N-no, of course not! Ha.”