Session 46, VP1

The respite of the Swap Meet helped the next leg of the trek go by quickly. Though the trainers heard sounds of life in the tall grass around them, they passed through undisturbed. They could see a large mound of sorts on the horizon. Reasoning that it must be The Hive, the group set up camp for the night.

It was early evening the next day when they finally arrived. Much like Stygian Falls, no settlement could be seen. All that stood before them was the large, grass-covered mound known as Skoll’s Watch. Strangely, the sunlight refused to move past the cave’s threshold, as if barred by some magic.

Echoes of their recent reception at Harbinger Valley flared up. Would this be place be any better? With a sigh, Bergie took the first step into the gloom of the cave, & lit his shoulders aflame.

All along the ceiling & walls, myriad bug Pokemon huddled together amicably. Bergie braced for an attack…but none came. If anything, the low drone of the bug’s wings seemed excited at the presence of a new friend. Buoyed by this, the three trainers made their way into the cave.

Thankfully, it was not a particularly long walk in the dark. After only a few minutes of walking, the group came upon a well-worn set of stairs, hewn from rock. Something on the wall glittered in the flickering firelight; etched into the wall by an ancient hand was a sprawling relief. It depicted a hungry wolf in pursuit of the Sun, all around the chamber.

Why did they hesitate before descending? Was it to admire the beautiful work of their forebears? Or were they perhaps haunted by Hysterig more then they’d wanted to admit? Regardless, they found within them the strength to go into the soft light emanating from below.

Rather than a dark cavern, they were instead greeted by a hexagonal room, shaped by human hands. One of its walls led into a longer hallway. Feeders were arranged along the walls periodically, & cuddled up to each was a Volbeat or Illumise. It seemed the Pokemon provided light in exchange for food & care. One of the fireflies fluttered away at the sight of our heroes.

The distant sound of voices drifted from much further down the hallway. As the party followed the twisting passageways forwards, they could periodically see more hexagonal rooms branching off. Most of these seemed to be personal living quarters- though none of them featured a door.

Before long, the path led to a significantly larger room. Not only was it at least 4-5 times as large as the living quarter rooms, but the ceiling was at least 50’ high. A long banquet-style table lay in the center of the space. Most of the chairs were occupied by denizens who had been just about to have dinner. All of them wore traditional robes in various cloths & trim.

At the head of the table stood a middle-aged woman. Her hair was a fading purple, & her she was fairly lithe in build. The lines on her face looked to have come from years spent smiling & laughing. The firefly from earlier was receiving pets & snacks on her shoulder.

The woman rushed over to greet the guests. Without even introducing herself, she invited them to sit & join the group for their meal. As they ate, the party had some light discussion with the woman. Her name was Morphada, & she was actually the Gym Leader & Head Priestess for The Hive. Plenty of the other residents began to welcome the trainers into their friendly discussions, following her example.

Conversation with the people of The Hive was overall pleasant. There was one moment that stuck out otherwise: Morphada had seemed oddly cagey when Gunnar asked if there were any bowyers or fletchers in town. Seeing it bothered her for some reason, he didn’t press the issue.

Each of our heroes felt stuffed when things finally began to wind down. Morphada excitedly rushed off to fetch dessert. As she did so, all of the townsfolk quickly dispersed. Our heroes were quite confused as to why- until their new friend returned with a food cart.

Plate upon plate lay covered in globs of…something. The Gym Leader talked about her love of honey-glazing food as she set some of the desserts out for the guests. Each let out a solid “thunk” as it was set down.

Bergie was nothing if not polite: he bravely took a bite, & regretted it instantly. After the initial taste of honey, which was fine, all flavor dissipated. The texture could best be described as “sand-like”, which did the dish no favors. It was a good thing Morphada was swept up in conversation with the trainers, else she may have noticed Gunnar surreptitiously avoiding trying his own dessert.

While cleaning the table, Morphada explained that there were guest quarters that the group could use for their stay at The Hive. Seeming somewhat embarrassed, she asked if she could trouble them to do her a small favor. The trainers decided to repay her welcoming attitude in kind.

Soon, they found themselves loaded down with two large containers of food to deliver- it seemed some of the townspeople had missed attending the dinner. To guide them, Morphada released a Larvesta whom she introduced as Jeofree. The caterpillar slowly wormed its way up onto Gunnar’s chest. It began to “lead” them by gently tugging on his shirt to indicate directions.

First, he took them to the first room they’d seen thus far with a door. It was wooden & hand-made, adorned with various messages. One read “do not disturb; another read “no moms allowed”.  The most prominent simply said “Ingeborg”. Knocking brought a yell of “what” from within. A few awkward sentences later, a woman opened the door a crack.

Her face & hair resembled Morphada’s, & she appeared to be nearly 30. From the sheer number of open scrolls littering her room, it was clear they had interrupted some sort of work. In a huff, she demanded to know why the group was bothering her. When they offered her the food, she pointedly refused to take it. She slammed the door shut in their faces soon after. Bergie left the container sitting outside her door, should she change her mind. Hopefully their next stop would go better.

Now Jeofree led them into darker portions of the labyrinthine settlement. It looked like it had been some time since most of these rooms had been occupied, & several were coated in layers of dust. The passage ended at a room roughly double the size of the normal living quarters. Within it loomed the decaying corpse of a shack. Besides the detritus from the crumbling building, several large puddles took up the “front yard”. Even this far beneath the surface, weeds had somehow taken root in the earth.

The light here was dimly strobing. The trainers saw there was a withered Volbeat clinging to a perch missing any food. They happily gave it some food & water, giving it the strength to light the space better. Suddenly, the sounds of a struggle came from behind the shack. Ready to help, the party rushed over.

A sleeping bag lay on the ground in a tangled heap near a small campfire. Running in circles around it were an unfamiliar man & Pokemon. The man looked to be close to Bergie’s age, but stood much shorter. His skin was fair, while his hair was black. He was dressed akin to a “high school jock”, including a letter jacket.

He shouted in frustration as the Pokemon kept dodging from his outstretched hand. Their Pokedexes registered the black & yellow bird as a Wattrel. It clutched what must have been the last of the bacon in its beak as it ran- whether it had forgotten it could fly or was simply too lazy, they did not know. Hesitantly, the trainers introduced themselves.

Upon realizing he had company, the man aggressively said “no solicitors allowed” on his private property. Gunnar & Bergie exchanged a look of confusion before holding out the box of food. The man smacked himself in the head, realizing he had missed dinner. As he rifled through the contents of the box, he expressed his disappointment at the lack of mead.

After some more back & forth, they learned his name was Takeru Stahl. (“You may have heard of me…”) He had been an up-and-coming Pokemon trainer some years ago in the League circuit before falling on hard times. He had sold his badges, his trophies, & even his Pokemon to get by. Speaking of Pokemon, the Wattrel, seeing Takeru was distracted, flew to the top of the shack. It let out a raucous, laughing cry before horking down the bacon. This prompted another outburst from Takeru, who shook his fist at the bird ineffectually.

Seizing the opportunity, our heroes awkwardly took their leave. For such a friendly community, it sure had some “interesting” personalities. Jeofree seemed apologetic as he led them to their guest quarters. He waved one of his spikes at them as he began crawling his own way back home. There were only two rooms: after some- barely any- convincing, Saffa agreed to bunk next to Gunnar in his room.

Morning woke them from a deep sleep. Despite being underground, they could somehow feel the Sun was up. Bergie & his Growlithe, George, followed the scent of pancakes & waffles back to banquet room. Though not as crowded as the night prior, a good number of townsfolk were present. The Breeder found himself welcomed with several cries of “good morning!”

Gunnar was only slightly behind Bergie in arriving. Saffa slept in some: by the time she found her way in, most of the residents had begun to go about their days. Those who remained had much less enthusiastic greetings for Takeru only a few minutes later. When Ingeborg stalked in to gather a plate after him, all of the denizens left in a hurry.

The mix of shame & pain on Morphada’s face was clear at the reaction. She did her best to quickly mask her feelings as she excused herself back to her quarters. In the now nearly-empty room, Gunnar & Bergie spoke some more with Takeru. He had been having trouble finding anywhere to stay long-term until he had stumbled across The Hive. Morphada had been doing her best to help him get back to his feet for a few months, with…little success.

Eventually, Bergie asked if Takeru knew where the town’s Pokemon Center could be found. The former trainer acted put-upon for a minute, before begrudgingly leading the way. The group healed up their Pokemon & made a few swaps to their parties. It was as Takeru was taking them back to the guest quarters that something odd began to happen.

Saffa, Gunnar, & Bergie were all struck by a blinding headache at the same time. The initial spike of pain subsided somewhat, to a dull, endless buzzing. Strangely, Takeru was completely unaffected. When George went to pounce on Bergie to cheer him up, the Growlithe knocked his trainer flat with unexpected strength. Whatever was weakening the group appeared to be powering up their Pokemon somehow.

Worriedly, Bergie suggested returning to the Pokemon Center. Bergie took Saffa with him to do so, while the other two went to check on Ingeborg. Her relatively remote location meant no one was likely to have seen if she was in distress.

Ingeborg’s door was half-open when the pair arrived. The woman herself was nowhere to be seen. Several of the scrolls lying around caught their attention. Amidst the various histories & lore, Ingeborg’s hand-written notes detailed her finding a strange metallic octagon somewhere deeper within The Hive. The notes devolved into what could be labelled as heresy, suggesting that to “truly commune” with Forsetti, the people of the town must become a unified hive-mind. Unsettled, the two gathered some of the scrolls before heading to the Pokemon Center.

A long line wound out from the medical facilities when Bergie & Saffa arrived. It looked like the entire towns population was here, & all of them were suffering from the same ill effects. Takeru went to harangue the staff, who were clearly ailing themselves. Saffa vomited across the floor, prompting Bergie to help her to a chair.

As a Medic, Bergie’s curiosity was piqued. He took some time to speak with & examine the gathered townsfolk. None of them showed any signs of physical injuries, but he was able to at least discern something from his study: the people most strongly affected were those with the most Runic Pokemon tattoos.

He shared his findings with the group once they’d arrived, only to be met with more puking from Saffa. With a sigh, Bergie brought her a Styrofoam cup of ice chips to ease her stomach. Misunderstanding instructions, Saffa took a large bite of the cup with a wince of disgust. Gunnar seemed galvanized by Bergie’s discovery. It explained why Takeru wasn’t sick, as he had no Pokemon. But if the sickness was worse for the people with the most Pokemon…what about the town’s Gym Leader?

Leaving Saffa at the Pokemon Center, Takeru led the others to Morphada’s room. It appeared virtually the same as every other living quarters they had seen: no extra size or benefits for her position. The only thing different was the presence of a wooden writing desk- which the Gym Leader currently lay slumped across.

The three ran over to check on their host. Though severely weakened, she was conscious & breathing. The group helped lay her down on her bed. Takeru & Gunnar asked if she knew what might be going on, but her ignorance was genuine. They showed her some of the scrolls & notes taken from Ingeborg’s room, causing her face to fall.

These rantings were the reason most of the townsfolk distanced themselves from Ingeborg. Still, Morphada didn’t know what her daughter could be doing to cause such pain. She weakly attempted to push herself to her feet. Surprising the other two, it was Takeru who gently told her to lie down & rest. He knew the layout of The Hive well enough that he could help the trainers locate the room Ingeborg had unearthed. Then, maybe the guests could help resolve the issue.

He was already at the door when the Gym Leader weakly called for him to wait. It might be dangerous in the unused tunnels- there was no telling what other effects these psychic pains could be causing. She made eye contact with the former trainer as she held out her hand. Faintly, she apologized if she was asking too much…while pressing a Pokeball into his hand.

It was one of her strongest Pokemon, a Millimic named Authigr. “For protection.” She hesitated a moment, before removing a glittering arrowhead from a necklace, passing this to him in turn. “To end this.” Takeru stood silent for a moment as Bergie & Gunnar watched. Finally, he nodded to Morphada, & began guiding the guests through the halls.

If there was one good thing about Ingeborg’s mad scrawlings, it was that they were incredibly detailed. It took only half an hour or so to reach the oldest portions of The Hive. The group knew immediately that they were on the right track, as a group of wild Pokemon blocked them from moving on. All of the Pokemon’s eyes were glowing bright pink as they advanced in unison.

Muscle memory is a powerful thing. It had been years since Takeru last held a Pokeball, but he jumped into the fray like it had been yesterday. Working together, the three managed to knock out the aggressors. Beyond, the dilapidated passage led to a room filled with an unearthly glow. Staring at it made Gunnar & Bergie’s headaches feel worse- this must be the source of the malady. This close, the backlash proved capable of Flinching them in their tracks.

Several more Pokemon were guarding the chambers of the tunnel. Through a clever use of Saffa the Curaurus, Gunnar was able to distract some of the patrolling wilds. They managed to reach the glowing room without taking much damage.

Which was a blessing.

Soft pink & silver light burned atop a podium at the far end of a cavernous space. Ingeborg could be faintly seen with her hands on a large piece of metal, her eyes rolled back in her head, caught in the throes of a psychic tide. The trainers reasoned that if they could destroy the metallic octagon, it would likely end the madness. To do so, they would simply need to cross through the room…and the horde of wild Pokemon within it.

There was no need for words. As one, working in true concert, the trio dove into the fray. Each step closer to the podium was a battle. Pokemon attacks took up practically all the space around them as they desperately pushed on. Their goal was nearly within reach when they were surrounded by a quintet of powerful Pokemon.

Arrayed to stop them stood a Machamp, Salamence, Seismistrix, Tyrantrum, & Vaporeon. In some situations, the only way out is through- situations such as this. One final fight began to rage. Froza downed the Salamence with a single Aurora Beam. The Machamp made short work of Saffa, while Authigr wrangled the Tyrantrum.

Leaving Saffa unconscious on the ground, Gunnar rushed across the battlefield to the source of their issues. All his might couldn’t seem to pull Ingeborg’s hands from the metal. He slammed his fists into it repeatedly, to no avail. Some protective magic was at work here. If only they had magic of their own…

Gunnar called out for Takeru to throw him Morphada’s arrowhead. The former trainer cocked his arm back & let the metal fly. Sadly, he was considerably more experienced throwing Pokeballs: the arrowhead fell a few feet short of the podium. The Seismistrix let out a potent Magnitude attack, nearly killing Saffa as Gunnar fetched the relic.

Bergie & Froza rushed to Saffa’s defense, disintegrating the Seismistrix. Placing the arrowhead against the metal, Gunnar drew the Gible Dagger & reversed his grip. He brought the hilt slamming down onto the arrowhead. A resounding crack could practically be felt as the metal began to break. The Martial Artist raised his hand for one more blow- & froze. Flinched by the mounting psychic pressure, he could do nothing but watch as the horde of Pokemon began to rush over his companions.

Out of breath, Takeru heaved himself up onto the podium as Bergie held the surge back. He wrenched the dagger from Gunnar’s paralyzed grasp. With a wordless cry, he brought the hilt crashing down on Morphada’s arrowhead, right where Gunnar had formed a crack in the steel.

An explosion of silver light washed over the room. As their eyes began to clear, our heroes saw the wild Pokemon confusedly wandering back to their homes. The pressure in their heads was gone. Ingeborg lay unconscious on the floor, while Takeru…Takeru stood in front of the remains of the metal.

There was a more concentrated glow coming from within the wreckage. The man slowly reached his hand into the egg towards a glistening blue sheen. His fingertips brushed the edge of a cool steel-

Takeru’s Charmander fainted. The opponent laughed as he walked away, but Takeru stood back up.

The roar of a crowd fell alongside his Torterra. Spotlights focused on the Gym Leader, but Takeru stood back up.

And now, shaking off a shell he hadn’t realized he’d hidden under- Takeru stood back up.

The glow was gone. A Runic Pokemon tattoo now graced Takeru’s arm, while a familiar Compass tattoo gleamed on the back of his hand. Silvery-blonde streaks now filtered through his hair as he blinked himself back to the waking world.

Their mission complete, our heroes carried Ingeborg back to The Hive. When they reached the banquet hall, it was to see Morphada doing her best to calm the townsfolk. Though the group offered to explain the situation to her in private, Morphada asked them to share their story with everyone, pain still in her eyes.

It did not take long after the party’s explanation for cries for justice to begin. Morphada calmed the crowd, & asked for a verdict in a trembling voice. The shouts of “Exile!” were not a surprise, but it was clear they still stung. The Gym Leader bowed low to the citizens, saying it would be done. But for now, she wished to attend to her daughter as she recovered. Once she had, Ingeborg would be made to leave.

The sourness of this rankled the trainers as they watched the people disperse. Still, there was little they could do, for the moment. Somberly, they accompanied Takeru back to his shack. It was subtle, but there was something different about the man. Perhaps a stronger set to his shoulders, or something less definable.

Squawking greeted them as they neared his “home”. There was that Wattrel again, another strip of bacon in its beak…only, Takeru hadn’t been home to cook any more bacon. A closer look determined that the “bacon” was wriggling mightily to break free. Takeru rummaged in his sleeping bag, pulling out a cap. He set it on his head, then turned it around with a flourish.

“Beldum! Use Psychic!” he said, hand outstretched. The tattoo leapt to life off of his skin. Before it had even finished coalescing, the Pokemon sent a wave of pink energy at the Wattrel. The bird dropped its prey as it fell, momentarily stunned. Takeru looked down at the “bacon”, only to find two thin yellow eyes staring up at him.

A Sizzlipede! The fiery Pokemon gave him a nod of thanks, before setting its face into an adamant expression. It seemed to be saying “thanks for the assist, but I would’ve gotten out of there eventually”. Liking the creature’s spirit, Takeru lobbed a Pokeball its way. A success!

By then, the Wattrel was on the move. It scuttled along the ground as fast as it could to escape. The second it remembered to open its wings, another Pokeball bonked its head from behind. Had it always been this easy?

Takeru turned to say something to the guests when they all heard sputtering coming from the “front yard”. In one of the puddles, a very sickly-looking Marril floundered. Despite its buoyant tail, it looked to be on the verge of drowning. More out of pity than anything else, it quickly found itself taking a spot on Takeru’s belt.

A spark had lit the former trainer up after the groups’ recent adventure. Ingeborg may have failed in her attempt to meld the minds of The Hive together, but she succeeded in one thing: proving to our heroes that it was never too late for a second chance.