Quote Originally Posted by Scytherwolf View Post


Okay! I'll search #(34) Bizzie's Fruit Farm first. Partly because I love berries. xD

After that I'll talk to Orin the Vivillon, a fellow bug type, about anything suspicious happening lately.
FIRST ACTION:

While Neo takes off toward the west, you decide to investigate the northeastern reaches of the town. Specifically, a lovely little farm that you have been told is owned by Bizzie, the local cutiefly. You briefly wonder how such a tiny creature can maintain a whole farm, but he must be capable if the farm is still running well.

As you flit towards the property, a seed of dread begins to swell in your stomach. The discomfort is present but weak, so you keep heading toward it, curiosity at the forefront of your mind. The closer you get, however, the darker the world seems to get. You know it's daytime, yet the growing murkiness around you might suggest otherwise. This seems peculiar, but perhaps it's one side-effect caused by the presence of the Stalkers.

You reach the outskirts of the farm and come face-to-face with rows and rows of tall, dense fruit crops. All appear to have been planted consciously in straight lines, but there are stray plants here and there which must have sprouted up as a result of seedlings spreading naturally. The crops tower above you, so you ascend to get a better view. Once you clear the tops, you realise that you can barely see ten metres in front of you. This strikes you as odd, as if an opaque fog cloud moved in all at once. You turn around to look out towards the distant buildings, but to your concern, everything seems to be covered in inky blackness.

Your heart begins to race somewhat faster as you hear a high-pitched screech. The screeching continues in intervals until it sounds like something sinister and foreboding is swooping you, screeching all the while. You duck and weave in an attempt to avoid whatever seems to be suddenly after you, and you panic as you make contact with something that brushes you. You pivot in midair with your powerful wings, only to see that you hit one of the berry plants. You almost feel settled until you watch it rot before you, a blood-curdling s͇̙̰c̳̺͞r̵̻͚̮̹̬̱̤e͏̰̼̼̹͍͔̫a̷͚m̭̼̲̜ͅ accompanying it as a face seems to appear while it melts.

Carly the Yanmega sustains 1 point of Purity damage.

You barely have time to react as something yanks your forked tail and your wings suddenly seize. Without the assistance of flight, you slam against the ground as you are continually pulled through the crops, black ene̪̩r̖͠ͅg҉̱̫͖y̛̗̺̥̯͖ swirling around you and red sparks flying off the parts of you that touch the cold, painful ground. You attempt to struggle free, but n͂̓͑͠o̎tȟ̿̀̾̒̇̚͏į̊ͤ̀̄̌nͤ͌͊̍̀ͫgͥͥ̏̒͐̍͂͜ ͯ͂͜s̸͒̇͒ͦͬ̒eë̓̾ͣ͟m͗ͨͦs͜ ͪ͗̒t̀̃ͨ̏͂oͬ͑͜ wͧ̈́ͩ̚o̽rķͯͧ̈́ͭ͊ͤ. A malevolent incorporeal hand of swirling purple and black bursts from the crops and glides towards you, fingers open in a menacing taunt. A crooked mouth appears in the palm, and from it sharp whispers curl and penetrate your mind. The pain shakes your core, but you can only panic as the hand begins to g̅͒ͥͯ͏̰͇̝̩͚͉̩ä̛̠͚̥̫̲̑̋̅͠i̇̓ͪ͏̻͔͚̻n̍ͣ̓̑́̿͏̯̩̫̰ ̏̂̅̍͒҉̸̥̹̗͉̣͜ on you.

All at once, the thing dragging you releases its hold, and you can only attempt to scream as the hand's chase comes to an end and engulfs you, flooding your body with bu̝͈ͭ͒ͬ̊̓̽̚ŗ̠̦̼ͨ͞͝ņ̣̩̌ͪ̆̈́ͫ̃̈́͟i̴͇̜̟̩̩͇̗̓ͣ̀ng, sḩ̸̺̀̑̿̆ͯ̋ͅa̮͋̐͐ͣͭ̇͑d̗̙͓̑̾owy c̡̧͈̞͙̖̩̙̟͕̘̯̻̤̜̹̗̟͕͚̽͗̈͞o̡͍̥̪̙͇͖͍̒͊́̑̌̆ͤ̆̔̈́̓̌̔͊ͨ͜ ̝͉̱̞̘͕͕̳̫̲r̭̪̞̩͛ͫͬͯͮ͛ͩ͑̄̍͂̽͆̇͘͝r͙͕̝̠̰̈́̅ͨ͆̐ͨ̂̊̒͘͘͢͜ ̥̦̻̞͕̟̖͔͖ú̴ͧ̽ͥͩ̐̈́̐̑̿ͫ̀҉̸̛͚͚̤̲̗͔ͅp̴ͧͬ̆̉̊̓̌̌̆̕҉̮͍̠͘ ̥̰͉͇̝͎t̨̬̖̳͓͇̱̼͚̖͈ͦ̓͋ͫͫi̡ͨͭ͒ͭ̐͛ͥͬͬ͂̌̿̐̏͠͏͎̠̫̝o̒̓̎ͥ ̸̦̖͚͚̹̺̦̟̱͎̖̬͓̮̘̜̰̝̬ͭ́̕͘͢n̏ͩ̏͊ͫ͆ͯ̽͂̽̚͏̦̭̗̦̟͟͞͠ ̣̜̱. You writhe in its hold, trying to bite, or stab with your tail, but the hold is paralysing and ago̡͍̥̪̙͇͖͍̝͉̱̞̘͕͕̳̫̲̒͊́̑̌̆ͤ̆̔̈́̓̌̔͊ͨ͜n̏ͩ̏͊ͫ͆ͯ̽͂̽̚͏ ̦̭̗̦̟̣̜̱͟͞͠ising.

Carly the Yanmega sustains 2 point of Purity damage.

The hand curls on you you further, and although the thick, shadowy fingers simply pass through you, you can feel your body being progressively twisted and crushed. Whispers louder than jets rake through your mind, attempting to reach your spirit. You try your hardest to resist, making every movement you can think of, trying to conjure an attack, or just trying to get your wings working again. The panic is cultivated and nurtured as the surrounding crops close in on you, slicing at you with leaves like knives, and shedding blue poison over your skin. Your eyes are tugged on, your belly is sliced at, and your mind is being ripped to shreds bit by bit.

Īͭ͐̋ͪ͒̌̽͑͊̒ͣ̒͐̋̒́҉̶̨̛̘̙̘̜̤͖̤̳͙̺̲̻̹̗̥̫̼̻̣͢ ̸̴ͯ̽ͨ̀͋̾̍̊ͮ̃̂͌͐͊ͨ̔͂ͪ̚͏̴̛̬̬͍̖̘̯̮̜̤̩̣͕̺̲̙̼̙can̅ͣ̈́̄͂ͯ ̴̪̝̫̺̳̘̯̦̯͉͍̓̓̓͋ͬ̂ͥ́͢͝ ̸̜̣̥͚̺͔̱͉̗̖̱͉̗͓͇̭̃ͦͬ̂ͯ̊̾͊ͩ͊̓̊͌̀ͫ͛͞͠͝ fe͛̾̐ͨ̾ͧ͐҉̷̵̧̣̫̦̰͉͚̗̹͇̳͈͚̭̹̪̘͚͠ē̟̪̫̯̘̦͙̻̱̩͆ͥ̆̀̕͢͠ ̘̰̙l y͍̖͉͉o̻u̦̘,̬ͫ͑͐ͪ ̬̩̼̤ͫ͌̌E͙͒͑ṃ̼̝̆̏̌͑ͮ̒̐i͉̖̝̔́̔͒s͇̭̭̰̓ͨ̆̃ͦ̋͛s͍̙̞a̝͕ͅ ͔͍r̖y̻̟̰̭͇.͔̘

Carly the Yanmega sustains 3 point of Purity damage.

The voice is chilli͉̖̝̔́̔͒ng, but the mention of your role as Emissary seems to take a hold on you somewhere in your resolve. You remember Mew, your fellow Emissaries, and the mission to defeat the Enthrallers. This, what you're suffering inside of now, must be some kind of technique created by the agents of Abyss, and now that you recognise that, you feel a renewed strength.

You snap your wings back out and take off at once, barrelling through the crops as hisses and whispers try to grasp at you. But you remain strong, and continue through. You came here to help dissolve the Stalkers, and that's what you're going to do.

"H...help," you hear suddenly, and you find yourself surprised.

You grind to a halt and eventually follow the voice until you find the small form of a yungoose lying between a few berry stalks. Upon seeing you, the normal-type grows hopeful.

"C...can you help me, please? I was just going to see Balene...and I got stuck...here," he explains, spluttering.

You rack your brain for anything that you think could help, but your specialties lie elsewhere. However, you are aware that some of your fellow Emissaries might be able to help, so you explain to the yungoose that he must wait for a little longer until someone is able to come to him with help.

{Wounded Yungoose: <Medicine>} has been added to the Team Records.

The yungoose seems grateful but sad, and although you hate to leave him, he seems like he should be okay for now. Given how long he has been here, you figure that he is not as susceptible to the evil shadows as you seem to be.

Steeling yourself, you power out of the property and find somewhere to recover for a bit before you head out again.


Carly the Yanmega (L: Bug/Flying)
Health: 12/12 | Sanity: 8/8 | Purity: 2/8
Battle Stance: Flee
Perk: Technical


SECOND ACTION:

Interview Rapport: VERY POSITIVE
+1 Shared type
+1 Shared evolution stage
+Intimidation Flying > Bug
+Modesty Bug < Flying

Your first instinct is to try to find another Emissary who might be able to help the yungoose you found, but upon reflection, you realise that you have no idea where your fellow Emissaries chose to go or what they decided to do. Not the ones with medicinal knowledge, anyway. Besides, you had a mission to complete, and the yungoose could surely hold on for a few more hours.

Through asking around a little, you find Orin at the fortress from which the town got its name: Salvage Keep. You come to the Keep's entrance, where a male zweilous with a down-turned gaze stands guard. As you flit past him, you notice him muttering strange things under his breath, and it's as if he doesn't notice your presence at all. Noting it as strange but not important enough to switch your trajectory, you head inside, coming to a courtyard. You stare up at the large stone building before you and fly upwards toward the top, where you find a window big enough for your form to fit through.

You pop out into a hallway with a stone floor and multiple doorways coming off it. There's also a staircase, which you elect to fly up. At the top of the stairs, you nearly run into Orin as he seems to be making his way down.

"Ahh!" he screams, taken aback by your presence.

His eyes seem to flare momentarily as he readies himself for battle, but you calmly explain that you're a curious investigator who was hoping to find some answers by coming to him. The vivillon waits for a moment, looking you over with his large, black eyes with white patches, and purses his lips. Half of one of his antennae is missing, which you find yourself distracted by for a moment. He remains silent, contemplating something - whether it's you, your words, or your intentions - for almost a minute.

Finally, a smile licks the edges of his mouth. "You're lookin' for information on the Stalkers, aren't you?" When you confirm his statement and bring up suspicious things he might have seen, the bug-type merely snorts, maintaining his smile. "Very well." He turns around, making his way toward what you can now see is the only door on this floor. When he reaches it, he turns around to you. "Well, come on."

You follow Orin inside the circular entrance, only to realise he has led you into his quarters. It is a fairly large set of rooms, and its own apartment by all rights. Many natural plants are placed around the room, and the floor is not stone, but dirt. Flowers sprout up in a few places, and the ceiling is almost entirely one big window looking out into the sky. All-in-all it seems like the perfect habitat for a bug-type pokémon. You find a nice rock to land on, which is thankfully big enough for you.

"Looks like they got you already," he chuckles, settling on a branch growing from a small tree in the room. "You run into 'em or something? Or you just...ran into those shadowy places. Heh, yeah, they've been cropping up here and there. Some folks have died from overexposure to the soul-crushing intensity of the evil in those parts...or so I've heard." He clears his throat. "So, what exactly do you want to hear about them? Let me guess--you went to Shila first, but she was too busy for you?" He pauses to wait for an answer, and when he gathers he's wrong, you notice a look of smugness creep onto his face. "My, my, you're actually smart. She claims to be all 'for the people,' but that lardy grime-ball revels in the attention she gets for--" He stops himself there, watching your reaction carefully. Then his tone seems to shift.

"Right, so you gotta know one thing about Salvage Keep--the town, not the Keep. Gods, Shila and her brilliant ideas. 'Let's call the town the same name as the Keep!' ...Ah, whatever, anyway--we ain't got no police force or anything like that. No, apparently it's not important enough to worry about. So who's left to do the cleanup? Mercenary Guild, Bounty Hunter Guild, or anyone who damn-well pleases. Post-cataclysm times aren't too easy to navigate, so we do what we can, right? I like to think of myself as capable, though the fact that I'm hardly included in any important decisions around here anymore doesn't help my pursuits. Carly, I can't tell you how relieved I am to see that some pokémon are actually reasonable, decent folks who want justice. Well, the Stalkers don't understand what's just and what's not, so you got your work cut out for you.

"They say there are...six Stalkers," he begins, averting his eyes as he thinks. "First, there's Indulge. It stuffs its victims to the brim with food until they're so full that their sides split. Doesn't sound so threatening, but once the food bursts the stomach and spreads into your other organs, you'll think it is then. Apparently it keeps forcing food down the victim's throat until their body is incapable of containing it any longer, and their flesh starts to split. Or exoskeleton, or whatever.

"Repose, the fluid parasite. Yeah, gross, I know. Sucks the life out of its victims, or more specifically, the moisture. Captures them, probably...ties them down or something, then drains all moisture until they're dry, cracked husks of their former selves. Mummified afterwards just to top it all off. Bodies are just left in random locations.

"There's Payload, the Stalker obsessed with demolitions. Evidence of black powder and bomb shells have been found linked to Payload, whose victims are exploded into bits and pieces, then scooped up and places into little boxes, like sick gifts. They, uh...get delivered to their loved ones. Sick bastard, that one.

"You got Abatis, who seeks out sharp, pointy things and sticks them in its victims. I don't know how they get lured into places where a stabbing with a javelin is possible, but it's happened. First victim was found jammed onto, funny, the Keep's abatis. Goes right the way 'round. Abatis ain't one to show mercy, either--pidove a few days back was littered with needles. Death by a thousand cuts, or, uh, stabby things.

"Gravemeld. Ain't that a creepy name? This one...skins its victims while they still live. Keeps them until they're breathing their last breath, then releases them onto the streets. Can't help but die of pain, shock or infection. Mm, this is why you don't buy real fur.

"Last, Netherfall. I dunno, seems a little try-hard to me. But you won't catch me saying that around a Stalker. This one, well...kind of hard to tell. Victims been turning up with no brains. Surgically removed. I don't know if that's the extent of its efforts, but...seems pretty lackluster if you ask me. I wouldn't be surprised if this thing was testing something on its subjects. Maybe you'll be able to find out more if...more people get murdered. I know that's messed the hell up, but I don't know what else to tell ya.

"Carly," Orin begins, sailing down from his position and landing in front of you. His yellow wings trimmed with orange and tipped with black move slowly as he breathes. "You came to the right 'mon. Shila thinks she knows it all, but when you're cast aside and ain't busy with diplomacy and meetings, you see things others don't. You find anything related to the Stalkers, you make sure you tell me, alright?"

He gives you a slap on your back, about where he thinks your shoulder would be, and opens the round door for you.


Carly the Yanmega (L: Bug/Flying)
Health: 12/12 | Sanity: 8/8 | Purity: 2/8
Battle Stance: Flee
Perk: Technical