Session 29, VP2

After a brief moment of hesitation, the group dashed out the door after Brunick. He hadn’t gone too far: his house sat near the northern edge of the town, and he was grappling with an unknown Pokémon just over the city line. The Pokémon, a Drampa, had horribly purple veins shot through its eyes. A light haze formed a cataract over its pupils, and it appeared to be staring off vacantly into the distance. Nonetheless, it was thrashing around, causing damage to both the nearby earth and Brunick. 

Reinhold and Ariela ran forward to help, asking where he was trying to move the Pokémon to. Brunick seemed pleasantly surprised at the help and motioned a bit to the east. Once the Pokémon was a safe distance away from town, the trio managed to pin it to the ground. The Drampa’s breathing was labored as it began to slump over from fatigue. Brunick gently pat its head and spoke in a soothing voice. 

In a few seconds, the Pokémon had clearly passed out. Sylvie put a hand on its head. A soft pink glow emanated from her palm, and the Drampa’s expression seemed less pained. Brunick thanked the party for their help, explaining the situation. Apparently, wild Pokémon affected by the poison mist were occasionally driven into a sort of fugue state. While like this, they would wander around, lashing out at anything around them. 

Unfortunately, several had been stumbling into Forgerun, causing damage to the town’s buildings and farms. Brunick explained that though they were hesitant at first, he had convinced the townsfolk that the Pokémon should not be met with violence: these were innocent creatures, suffering a terrible malady. The frequency of these incursions had been increasing every day. 

Answering some of the group’s questions, Brunick clarified that the Pokémon seen hailed from the Varfjell Fields, Sindri’s Kiln, and Sol’s Bed. When Bronze suggested perhaps catching the afflicted Pokémon, Brunick grinned, pointing to a spot a few feet from where the Drampa lay. If it hadn’t been pointed out, the group likely wouldn’t have seen it: a strange circle was etched into the dirt, filled with pale blue ink. 

Bronze and Ariela rushed over to examine the runic circle. Brunick began to gently drag the Drampa towards the circle as he continued: having had the same thought, he had been attempting to reverse-engineer Capture Runes to use on a larger scale. So far, he had been able to successfully create these small “Capture Traps” in a few spots around the edge of town. The trainers watched in surprise as the circle began to glow, and the Drampa faded from view. Brunick immediately started scratching his shoulder: when asked, he told them that it was the presence of the new runic Pokémon tattoo. 

Reinhold expressed that this idea would have to run out of steam once Brunick ran out of room for tattoos. In response, Brunick pulled off his shirt. His entire torso, and nearly the entirety of both arms, were already densely covered in runic Pokémon tattoos. Some were even seen to overlap on top of others: these ones seemed raised and itchy, like the Drampa tattoo. 

When he was done explaining, Brunick apologized for the disturbance, inviting the group back inside to finish their conversation out of the mist. Dagaz, his Kindloof, was standing just inside the doorway to await their return. After giving the Pokémon some pets to calm it, the party sat down again. 

Our heroes asked a few more questions of the gym leader, before Ariela asked Sylvie about the display of power from earlier. The trainers talked amongst themselves about the strange dreams and abilities they had been experiencing lately. Brunick sat quietly, drinking his tea and observing the conversation.  

Eventually, this topic died down. Ariela pulled out her notebook, asking if Brunick had seen anything like the footprints she had recorded. He nodded, mumbling something to himself. 

At the group’s request, Brunick explained that there was a man in town who might know more about the subject than he would. Due to recent events both at home and across Varfjell, the people of Forgerun had begun to feel that they had been abandoned by their Old Gods. This sickness, which affected Fire-types the worst, was the final nail in the coffin. 

Roughly a week ago, the townsfolk began renovating their old temple to Baldur, converting it to a place of worship for Ho-Oh. Bronze in particular seemed confused by this, as Ho-Oh had a quite different mythology in her homeland. Among the citizens working on the temple was an older man named Ivar. Brunick said that he believed he had seen a tattoo similar to the pawprint on the man at one point. 

Following this, Ariela asked Brunick to scrutinize the piece of metal she had found at Sol’s Bed. As he examined it, Brunick’s eyes grew wide. He had never seen anything like this before in his history as a blacksmith. The most confusing part was the charring on it: this could only have been caused by an intensely powerful fire, but such a fire should have completely melted the metal. How it had retained any form was a mystery. 

Seeing that the sun was setting soon, Brunick wrote the group a small missive, marked with his personal seal. If the group brought it to the inn, they would allow them to lodge for free during their stay. The group thanked him for his time, and expressed hope that they could find a way to help. Brunick and Dagaz bid them goodnight as they set out towards the town square. 

Upon entering the inn, they could see no one manning the front desk. A man called out from upstairs that he would be down in just a moment. He stumbled down the last few steps, overloaded with folded blankets. At the last step, he tripped slightly, but luckily managed to ensure the linen fell on a nearby table rather than the floor. 

He apologized for the mess, rushing over to get room keys for the group. When he went to pass over the keys, the man paused for a second as his eyes narrowed. After a second, his face lit up with a bright smile. The young man stumbled over his words as he asked the group how they had been. Realizing they didn’t recognize him in turn, he reintroduced himself as Herleif. Lauren and Sylvie both let out small sounds of surprise: Herleif was one of the two former bandits they had helped out along the Himinglaeva River on their way to Ever Dam. 

Herleif and the group lightly caught up with each other. The man explained that he and Grigor had returned to Forgerun after their departure. In an effort to turn over a new leaf, they had both found work in town. Grigor was apprenticing as a mason, while Herleif was learning how to manage the town’s inn. Recalling that Brunick had mentioned the townsfolk were making new stonework for the temple, Reinhold asked if Herleif could arrange for Grigor to come visit the next morning. He readily agreed, and the party went to their rooms. 

The poison mist maintained throughout the night, unchanged by time of day. Our heroes woke, performed their morning routines, and went downstairs to break their fast. There were a few other patrons also enjoying the spread, so the group lightly questioned them. One of them, a Bird Trainer, mentioned that he had flown into town. According to him, the poison mist seemed oddly resistant to the winds: he claimed that the sea breeze should have caused it to spread and dissipate some. Instead, the mist seemed to be maintaining a position. 

In a short while, Grigor stopped by the inn to grab an early lunch. Though he was less enthusiastic than Herleif, he greeted the party, asking what they had wanted to talk to him about. The trainers explained that they were curious about the temple reconstruction and were hoping to meet a man named Ivar in particular. Grigor agreed to take the party over to where he was working. 

Though most people were still doing their best to stay indoors, there was a small number of townsfolk by the temple grounds. The building itself was a small, two-story tall affair: nothing at all like the grand temple to Frigga in Drillsberg. Grigor excused himself to continue his stonework and pointed out Ivar. 

Beneath a nearby tree, a middle-aged man sat, playing a lute for a small audience. Not wanting to interrupt, our heroes took a seat at the back of the small crowd. The other listeners were a mix of the young and old, with a few families as well. Though they had never heard the song before, something about it seemed oddly familiar… Bronze, Lauren, and Sylvie all turned to look at each other at the same time: the song’s lyrics were about the events of Drillsberg. Specifically, it told the tale of how the Old Gods sought to destroy the people of Drillsberg. They only failed because the New Gods had sent their chosen warriors to save the town. 

The small crowd dispersed when the song ended, and most of the party stood still in confusion. Suddenly hearing an embellished tale of their own deeds seemed to have thrown them for a loop. Reinhold, having not realized their connection with the lyrics, walked over to speak to Ivar. 

The older man was welcoming, seeming happy to greet travelers to town. After some inquiries about the temple, Ivar led the group around the space. As they went, he pointed out the various ways the people were repairing and rededicating the temple. The more they heard, the more abrasive the group’s questions became. The idea of covering up the past did not sit well with a few of the trainers, an opinion they made known. A surprisingly in-depth theological discussion ensued. Despite the party’s clear feelings on the matter, Ivar didn’t seem to take offense at their arguments. 

Eventually, our heroes decided to change track. Ariela once more pulled out her notebook to display the strange footprints. Ivar visibly flinched at the sight, but claimed to not know anything about it. Reinhold pressed a bit further, telling Ivar to talk about what could have been behind such a quick change of faith. Appearing flustered, Ivar began to say that he thought the group mistakenly thought he was somehow in charge of the temple’s reconstruction, when he was merely another one of the townsfolk engaged in it. Ivar made to leave, but Ariela and Reinhold moved into his path. Taking advantage of the distraction, Lauren reached out with their psychic senses. 

From what they could tell, Ivar seemed genuine in his words and ideals- except, he had thought of something at the last line of questioning. It was slight, as if he were trying to bury it, but Ivar couldn’t help thinking about fire and fear. Lauren tried to calmly explain that the group knew he was not telling them something, but Ivar was clearly done with the conversation. 

Sylvie also sensed his rising panic, and gently took one of his hands in her own. A subtle glow surrounded the clasped hands, as she pleaded with Ivar to talk with them. The sway of Sylvie’s empathic powers had a clear impact on the man. His shoulders sagged, and he appeared defeated. Quietly, he asked the group to follow him to his home.  

Along the way, Bronze’s eyes glowed yellow behind her glasses as she scanned for any signs of a potential trap. Seeing that Bronze did not appear worried, the rest of the group followed her lead. Ivar’s home was small, clearly meant for only one person. The main living space was full of bookshelves from wall to wall, and various scrolls lay littered about. A few were held open on small tables, as if they had been consulted recently. 

Once inside, the man sat heavily in one of his chairs. Ariela was awed by the number of books, especially as she glanced at some of the titles. She caught sight of a familiar one, letting out a small gasp of surprise. Meanwhile, Lauren asked Sylvie to prepare some tea to help calm Ivar’s nerves: the man was clearly very unsettled. Our heroes began to question Ivar about what he knew. Hesitantly, he began to explain what he knew of the history of Sol’s Bed. 

According to legend, once every century or so, two Pokémon would meet and duel near Sol’s Bed and the Kiln. Their battles would wreak havoc on the landscape as they fought for ownership of the volcano. According to the lore, the last time the volcano had erupted was a result of their first such combat. Of the two combatants, Ivar only knew details on one of them: a great quadrupedal beast, with gleaming white fur. It appeared to be some sort of feline, with mastery over spark and flame. 

Of its foe, all he could recount was that it appeared to also be quadrupedal, and potentially armored in some way. Ivar paused momentarily. His breathing was fast and shallow, and his hand shook as he took up a cup of Sylvie’s tea. Lauren recognized that Ivar appeared to be having a mild panic attack at the thought of whatever he meant to speak of next. 

Once he had collected himself enough to continue, Ivar told the group that he had seen the beast in person. As a child, he and some friends had been playing in Sindri’s Kiln. The air around them began to grow hot, and the massive creature crested a nearby hill, its burning eyes set on Sol’s Bed. It shook the very earth with a roar, responded to with a deep, rumbling groan. Ivar and his friends had attempted to flee, but the two titans met before they could get to safety. The explosions and flames devastated the nearby portion of the Kiln. His friends died in the crossfire, leaving Ivar alone amongst the ash. 

The beast lost its fight to the volcano’s master and left to tend to its wounds. It paid no heed as it trampled over Ivar in its flight, leaving uncaring destruction in its wake. At this point, Ivar pulled the collar of his shirt down and to the side: the group could see the exact same shape of the strange footprint, seared into his flesh. 

Recounting the tale seemed to have drained much from Ivar. In an increasingly dead voice, he explained that he had studied whatever he could find related to the monstrous beings and their battles. His research showed that the fights did seem to hold true to legend, occurring only once every hundred years. Additionally, it appeared that the feline beast seemed to lose the fight more often than not. The story was horrible, true, but the group didn’t quite see what connection this had to the situation at hand. Until Ivar squeezed out, in a trembling voice…that he had seen the beast again two weeks ago, striding towards the volcano. 

Having unloaded everything he knew, Ivar sagged further into his chair. The group lightly discussed what they had been told, as Lauren and Ariela both wrote in their notebooks. Our heroes apologized for forcing Ivar to relive a traumatic memory, promising that they were going to use what he told them to help stop the poison mist. The party left, debating their next course of action. Lauren suggested they speak to Brunick once again, now that they had some more information. Brunick’s door was open when they neared his cabin, as if he had expected their approach. Eager to get out of the poison, the group came inside and shut the door. They caught Brunick up on what they had learned, though he did not seem overly surprised. When asked if he knew anything related to the myths, Brunick’s demeanor grew considerably more earnest. He told the group about the annual Fire Festival held in town, and how partaking in it was one of his greatest passions. From what he remembered, they had once put on a shadow-play related to the myth, but he was unsure where the story originally came from. 

Lauren recalled the necklaces Brunick had mentioned the day before and changed the topic to them. Brunick gladly passed over his third necklace for examination: he and Dagaz were wearing the other two. Ariela, Bronze, and Lauren inquired a bit about the necklaces and how they worked. Unfortunately, Brunick was not an expert in the field of runic magic. He had been able to reverse-engineer the Capture Traps but hadn’t had any success with the ward necklaces. His grandparents had mentioned once that the ink was the most important part of the process and needed to be tailor-made to match the item’s intended purpose. Ariela recognized this as being similar to how she had learned to reanimate fossils. 

Next, the group debated where they could find the great beast Ivar had spoken of. All the evidence so far pointed to the fact that it was staying somewhere in Sindri’s Kiln or Sol’s Bed. Brunick pointed out that the glow in the carbonized trees was from fires that still raged beneath the earth. This meant that there must be a cave system of some kind…a burning cave certainly sounded like a good place for a fiery monster to make its den. The entire time Lauren was holding the necklace, Sylvie kept fidgeting in her seat. She felt something moving in her chest but wasn’t sure what it could be. Finally, she opened her mouth to ask Lauren if he could pass her the necklace; Lauren moved to pass her the necklace before she could speak, anticipating her question somehow. Sylvie’s hand closed around the ward rune, and she closed her eyes. Her friends’ discussion faded away into silence. The only things she could hear were the sound of leaves, swaying in the breeze. When she opened her eyes, she found that she had subconsciously grabbed hold of her Gracidea petal in her other hand. 

Whatever feeling had been washing over her seemed to have stabilized now, syncing with the energy the ward rune produced. Though she could not explain how she knew, Sylvie could tell that she was somehow resistant to the poison mist. She had been carrying the Gracidea petal, plucked from her dreams, ever since Ever Dam. Could it have truly been a gift from the being she had met as a child? Why had it been given to her? And what price would she one day be expected to pay in return?