Session 53, VP1

Bergie, Eplina, & Takeru mounted up & began riding away from Streamsford. The cover of the trees felt borderline oppressive above them. Every so often, Takeru would fish something out of his backpack in secret.

 

It didn’t take long before the trainers came across signs of Torveig’s passing, though they did not recognize them as such at first. In the middle of her trail, they came across a small group of wild Pokemon.

 

Something was wrong. The Pokemon all seemed to be in pain but were blindly attacking each other regardless. Bergie dismounted to investigate directly. He was able to calm one of the wilds enough to allow him & Eplina to study it. They appeared relatively healthy, but…their Typing had somehow been changed!

 

A chunk of the Pokemon had become Water types, some suffering in a melting state. Others had large portions of their bodies turned to sludgy Ground. Seeing that the other wilds were growing close to killing each other, our heroes entered the fray themselves. Over the course of the battle, they managed to catch a handful of the strangely-changed Pokemon. Hopefully they could find a way to help them out when things weren’t so dire.

 

Bergie’s Pokedex began to ring. He excused himself for a moment while Eplina & Takeru made ready to continue on. Whatever the subject of the call was, it took several minutes. Gunnar & Saffa arrived during that time. By the time they were brought up to speed, Bergie had returned.

 

The Medic had a drawn look on his face. Sylvie had called to update him on how things had gone in Harbinger Valley. There was good news: Hestr had successfully been saved from his imprisonment. The bad news was that Hysterig, the Gym Leader, had somehow managed to make a connection to the Midgard Serpent. It had granted him access to strange new powers. With them, he had been able to close off the town with a dome of earth.

 

Takeru & Gunnar nodded along to this. It bode ill but seemed to be a problem for a much later date. Why was Bergie just standing there silently? He looked over at the Ace Trainer nervously. There was…one final bit of news. The worst. Morphada had been helping Sylvie & her friends, hoping to reconnect with Ingeborg. And she had, in a way. Takeru snapped at Bergie to spit out whatever he wasn’t saying. Bergie flinched.

 

“Morphada…was killed by Ingeborg.”

 

No one spoke. Takeru made no further attempts to be sneaky as he took a bottle of liquor from his pack. After pouring a bit onto the ground, he drained the rest in one go. He spurred his mount onwards with a cry. Gunnar, Bergie, & Eplina moved quickly to follow their friend.

 

As they exited Brynhilde’s Copse, our heroes could see that the tall grass of the Varfjell Fields was rife with crazed battle. An untold number of Pokemon cried out in fury in Torveig’s wake. It would be easy enough to track her across the country, though it was apparent they would need to pay for every step. And so, they dove into the fray.

 

The party rode as quickly as they were able. Avoiding what fights they could & ending those they could not. The days blurred together into one maddening haze of motion. Rain fell upon them as if it could wash away the blood & tears.

 

“You know what you have to do when we find her, right?” Takeru asked Gunnar. The Martial Artist nodded without hesitation.

 

“She cannot live.”

 

It was on the third day that the group reached their quarry. Torveig stood on the coastal cliffs just South-East of Hammerfest. The ocean thrashed far below, somehow in time with her breathing.

 

“What took you so long? Are you ready to die for me?” she yelled above the rain. “Come!”

 

Torveig slammed her fist into the ground at her feet. In response, geysers of water & loam burst forth, coalescing into shapes horribly familiar. Before our heroes stood shades of those who had died by Torveig’s hand. Whether their souls had been conscripted or if this was simply a cruel joke, the gladiator let out a manic laugh as the mockeries marched to her defense.

 

Knowing that he was her primary target, Gunnar did his best to draw the attention of as man shades as he could. Their Types meant this put him at risk but it would hopefully buy his allies time to reach Torveig herself.

 

Bergie & Takeru pushed forward as far as they were able. When their passage became blocked, Bergie tackled into the shades to allow Takeru to past.

 

The Ace Trainer had proven himself to be a potent fighter in Pokemon battles since they’d joined forces. Yet, he lacked martial training to truly stand a chance against Torveig. He swung a drunken fist into her again & again. Each blow served only to drive the gladiator into higher-pitched laughter. Torveig launched her knee straight into Takeru’s solar plexus. The alcohol- alone in his stomach- came spewing out with great force. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

 

Gunnar held out as most of the shades bore down upon him. He had been fighting valiantly, but even the mightiest rock will crumble over time. Saffa did her best to support him as Eplina hectically applied her skills across the battlefield. Bergie wished to go to their aid, but doing so would leave Takeru unprotected. This was all too much!

 

The inevitable happened: Gunnar was thrown from Mary’s back. Before he could get back to his feet, several of the shades pummeled him into unconsciousness. Bergie was doing all he could to stay on his feet. Their enemies threatened to wash them away into the abyss…which is exactly when Laros the Beldum began to glow.

 

Within Takeru’s mind, a resolute voice rang out.

 

“Justice has not been done. Stand, chosen of Tyr. Stand, disciple of second chances. Stand now, & mete out the doom of law.”

 

From Laros’ eye, a blade of gleaming light streamed forth. The metallic Pokemon soared towards Takeru’s hand like a meteor.

 

“Stand. Now.”

 

The sacred power of Tyr flushed the alcohol from Takeru’s system & surged him back to his feet. He cleaved a shade in twain before levelling the blade at Torveig.

 

No longer worried about protecting the Ace Trainer, Bergie was free to run to where Saffa was struggling to keep the shades from killing Gunnar. He quickly applied his training to bring the Martial Artist back to the field.

 

As the last of Torveig’s shades began to wither away, she simply raised her fists with glee. Soil began to solidify around them. When she lowered them, each was now encased in a solid chunk of earth. With a punch, she summoned forth a lesser amount of shades back from their rest.

 

Having less foes to work around, the group began pushing their way towards the villain herself. The three trainers came at her from different angles, not letting up for a second. Every hit got them closer to their target. Even as drained as they were becoming, our heroes gave it their all.

 

Bergie spun into a ball of flame to slam into the gladiator from the front. Takeru & Laros lunged at her from the right. Saffa & Eplina worked together to hem her in from the left. And Gunnar?

 

Gunnar all but disappeared in a burst of speed. All present lost track of him in the tumult of the brawl, so focused was their fury. Until, with a cry of rage, his fist punched through her back & burst forth from her chest.

 

Everything seemed to freeze. The trainers stood in shock, waiting for their enemy to fall…but they would need to wait a bit longer.

 

Rather than blood or viscera, naught but dirt poured from her gaping wound. If it weakened her in any way, Torveig did not show it. Instead she summoned forth one last squad of shades as she backhanded Gunnar with a stony fist.

 

This was it. The party had little left to spend in the fight, & surely Torveig had to be feeling the same. For as long as she refused to fall, they must stay standing. Pokemon after Pokemon were knocked unconscious. Bergie & Gunnar felt their skin bruising & bones creaking, while Takeru’s arm grew nearly too heavy to swing.

 

In the tales, such fights are always won by some last second twist. Some unexpected boon sent to balance the scales. We are raised upon these stories, taught to look for the touch of heaven to see us through. But in life- true, raw, bleeding life- no one comes to save you. In those times it is only you against the darkness. You…& any brave enough to gaze into that abyss alongside you, screaming defiance.

 

So it ever is. And so it ever shall be.

 

All three of our heroes had no breath to waste on speaking. Yet, in this one desperate moment, they did not need any. Their weapons & hearts spoke for them. Fist, Hammer, & Blade struck Torveig at once. All across her form, her skin broke open with fissures, water weeping from within. The rain did not stop. It continued to fall down…as the villain finally, finally fell to her knees.

 

Takeru hefted Laros one final time to slice off Torveig’s earthen fists. Her head hung low. Her hair, turning into mud, obscured her expression- & what she was doing. There was a sound beneath the trainers’ labored breathing, a sound that seemed to poison the very air around the gladiator. Her voice, high & strained, invoking the master to whom she had sacrificed.

 

Vanachrom trembled. The ocean’s frothing kicked into overdrive. With a groan that threatened to shatter bones, a dread mass burst from the tempestuous waves. Jorgumandr. The Midgard Serpent. A monster beyond mortal ken.

 

The lamprey’s shadow fell upon them like an anvil. Its sludge-filled mouth arced high, higher, impossibly high, then began to crash down towards them. There was nowhere to go. No place any of them could reach that would be safe. Death filled their vision, promised it was their time.

 

But just as the tales lie, every so often…every so often, they tell the truth.

 

Jorgumandr’s maw hew into the coastal clifftop, engulfing the entire battlefield. Everything in that space tumbled down its gullet as it reared its disgusting head back- everything, but our heroes.

 

A thin dome of purple energy flickered in & out of view. A bubble of safety, denying the wyrm his due. Munnin floated in the air before them, pain clearly wracking his form. His shield dissipated as Jorgumandr belched with a vile stench. Where its tongue had once lay, Torveig took its place.

 

”HNN. TIME. TIME FOR. POWER,” the spectral raven croaked. The purple mist making up his body vanished, as his skull suddenly attached itself to the Rising Sun Arm Ring…