Mystery Dungeon: Wayfarers of the Storm
Prologue: Storms
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Orchidia, a large continent placed away from the world of both human and pokémon, enthralls its sole inhabitants- pokémon who see humans as a myth- each and every day. Besides some of the closest landmasses, the ocean surrounding Orchidia seems to continue on infinitely, leading to nowhere. Only the water types far out into the abyss of the ocean know, and they are feral compared to their brothers closer to the shores.
Exploration, always on demand in Orchidia, gave a neat facet to trying to figure out this mystery. Time and time again, a new Orchidian would say that it is their turn to 'chart the unknown waters', and as their friends gave teary-eyed goodbyes, that pokémon's neighbors would cope by making up reasons why he or she is 'the one who can'. If the exact causes of death for these brave souls was ever known, no one cared or wanted to record it. And if there were any discoveries... those were just as lost as the explorers.
So, exploration closer to home, contained within the continent of Orchidia and some of its neighboring islands, became prime as death wasn't so assured. And this exploration was far from boring; imagine that each and every pokémon could journey to the limits of their village, and if they were keen, come back with many stories worth telling again and again.
Forests, mountains, caves and rivers. The four food groups for the outward-bound soul. Young children dream every day of being old enough to see these marvels. What made these places so perfect, so enthralling? Firstly, the inhabitants of Orchidia themselves were worthy of individual studies. Habitual traits, as well as physical features, developed a culture so invigorated and fresh that one town from another might as well be different worlds on top of this different world. A totodile may see a delcatty do something preposterous, like play cat-and-mouse with its siblings, and feel as though they discovered something unique.
Secondly and stated earlier, death was not assured in the exploration of Orchidia- but it was definitely probable. This single fact made Orchidia far more interesting than whatever was out at sea; each dark forest or jagged mountain was a gauntlet, a dungeon, but it seemed so cleverly made unlike the ocean. The ocean killed those who went out, regardless of their might. The mysterious dungeons of Orchidia provided honor, a test that didn't seem so much like suicide.
And interestingly enough, not a single pokémon explored one of these dungeons in the same way. They all saw it differently in their explorations, but they were still all right about its appearance; a long time ago, Orchidians came to the agreement that the forests and mountains change every day, and never come out the same way twice. Stories of the same place doing new and exciting things piled on top of each other, and even the greatest of accounts were soon stepping down for up-and-coming explorers to share their wealth of adventure.
But there are those stories that supersede any notion of time. Most famous being the tale of Lugum, the fiercest riolu to grace- and save- the lands of Orchidia. Instructors in the art of combat tell segments of her battles, intending to inspire their pupils by recounting her acts of bravery. Others, moral teachers of a sort, used her journey as an instructional fable for unruly youth.
Yet, quietly, in the town that she was born into, are parents who use her life as a cautionary tale. Elders, who against all of her successes still pitied her greatly. On days where she would go about town, she tried to keep her head high as the appreciative pokémon she saved feel guilty about what they had collectively done to her. In Oran Town, a few miles away, Lugum was a hero. In Treasure Town, her home... no one called her anything more than a victim.
Both the opinions of Oran Town and Treasure Town are true. A hero and a victim, the tragic story of Lugum of Treasure Town began on a night with two storms raging on different planes. These storms raged on, and while others could hide, Lugum and those involved with her were caught having no choice but to allow it to bear down upon them.
The first storm racked Treasure Town with much more force than was usually typical of its climate. The sturdy stone and wood houses of the citizens of Treasure Town made the storm worth no more than a slightly longer conversation on the weather. For Lugum, heaving and falling to all fours in her attempt to climb a steep hill, the storm posed a greater challenge.
She had promised herself that her attempt a month ago was the last time she would think about joining the 'Wigglytuff Guild', a composition of some of the greatest and most up-and-coming explorers in nearly all of Orchidia. But then the storm started... and she got anxious, as she was wont to do. The sedentary hours of sitting in her small cave helplessly made her feel pressured to act. It took only a matter of minutes for her to be convinced that facing the storm was something that the guild would honor.
Slipping on a scarf and promising that it would stop her from getting sick, Lugum quickly scrambled to find her lucky rock. Although she had never made it through the gates of the guild, Lugum still tried to explore everything she could. The rock, decorated with various symbols, was the first thing she ever found. It was important to Lugum. In fact, she had a lot of trouble remembering what she had been doing that day, or the days before it. She arose next to the nearby river a few years back, and a brief few seconds of panicked searching got her the rock.
She recalled how it unreasonably relaxed her to have it in her paws, and how much she just wanted to settle down. This notion soon became obsolete as the pressure mounted within her, telling her to explore, until she was out in the middle of the harshest storm Treasure Town has ever seen, trying to brave what she couldn't do before.
Scrape after scrape, push after push, Lugum finally stood atop the high hill the Guild resided on. She wiped her eyes quickly with her scarf and winced away the gales of water peppering her face. The pink building towered high above her, and a single grate in front of its wooden gate seemed almost like an altar where one would offer oneself.
"Today is the day!" She yelled excitedly. "I feel great!" Her excitement became confrontational, and very confident. "You think that I'm afraid? Nothing scares me now! I'm getting into this guild tonight!" Lugum breathed quickly, hyperventilating to the sole purpose of curbing her rising anxiety. She shook her head violently. "No, no no no! Relax Lugum, relax!" She closed her eyes and listened to the storm.
This was it. all she had to do was step on the grate, listen to that loud, penetrating voice, and she could apply. How had it ever been so hard? What happened those last fifty, sixty, or maybe even seventy attempts over the years? "Tonight is," she said to herself happily, as a groaning came from up ahead, "the night where I begin the rest of my life."
Smiling towards the euphoria of finally having closure, Lugum opened her eyes again to hear a large bang, a whistling gust, and to also see a large metal grate hurtling towards her.
In the second storm, the situation called for a harsher kind of pressure. A young human named Ago whistled desperately, again and again in the same tone. High, low, and then high again: the call sign between him and his friend that meant 'help me'. Not a single noise sounded out from the surrounding forest besides the storm.
Normally, Ago was a storm-chaser with a small crew of 'meteorologists' or whatever one called them. He didn't know the science behind the storm- hell, he hardly knew the mechanics of one- but as the only one man enough to go out into them and do what needed to be done, he had become a quite invaluable, highly paid asset.
Ago decided to quit that job right then, however, because this storm was beginning to piss him off. The only reason he had joined that crew was to avoid a pitiful life as a farmer with his step-dad anyway. Thinking about it, Ago started having feelings close to regret, feeling that agitated him badly. He almost missed the wusses that told him where to go so that he wouldn't get torn in half or something like that. "Fuck whistling," he muttered. "Get the hell out here, you deaf shit!" He roared at the top of his lungs. A scuffle rang out, quiet but different from the storm.
Dropping down quickly, Ago grimaced as a dark object hurtled over him, cutting his shoulder. He looked up and saw a sableye, a small, impish creature that was determined to be the bane of his existence. So that was why they didn't use cuss words as call signs. He grunted as he tried to get up and away from the creature, but the sableye remained still. It knew that it had this slow sack of skin in its grasp.
Before it could make its move or toy with its prey, a shaded figure emerged from behind the dark pokémon. Its content turned to fear as the dark green shape effortlessly struck it down with a single swipe. The creature bounced away, wailing. Ago sighed with relief, but he sure wasn't going to show that he had gotten a little scared. "That took you long enough. It had been on my ass half the night."
"I am not deaf," the pokémon answered," I am patient. Huge difference. There are other things to do than watch your back all the time."
Ago gave him an incredulous look. "Things more important than me?!"
"Yes."
After a few moments of sitting in the storm, the two break out into laughter. "That sableye was so desperate. I've never seen one move in this far."
Ago's unofficial protector stopped laughing immediately and seriously considered what had just been said. Suddenly, the pokémon looked genuinely sad, as if he was about to lose Ago. "Ago... we need to leave. Which way is back home?"
"What are you worried about-"
"Home. Now."
This wasn't like him. This scared Ago, and he didn't hide it very well this time. "Uh, it is hard to navigate in this storm... I think it is that way."
A voice rang out above the storm, nearly drowning it out. Ago clutched his head, as if that would do anything- he might as well have put on a tinfoil hat.
"A little late for that, pitiful rebels. Hello again, old friend. You will not get away with this abominable act you've planned with that putrid traitor."
Ago's companion kept a straight face, but widened his bladed arms. He threw out the leaves that made them into the ground, and didn't replace them. "Into my arms, now." He wanted to object, but he knew that this was bad- they had been caught. "I know it is demeaning, but we need to move quickly... which way to the cliff?"
The cliff? Ago gave his friend and appalled look as he climbed into his arms. Why were they cornering themselves on purpose? He pointed silently, not trusting himself to speak. They broke into a speedy pace, going towards the cliff. "I need you to whistle as hard and as long as you can. Can you do that for me?"
Ago could not hold back his questions any longer. "Why? What is going on?"
"I've found a way to keep you safe, and to ensure that we can collect the pieces. You must trust me. Remember: have trust in friends or die."
He nodded meekly and started whistling hard, trying to get it to be louder than the storm. Ago cried out as he accidentally bit his finger when the running pokémon ducked under a crashing tree. The storm was picking up, and it was picking up fast. After a minute of whistling, the result finally showed: a familiar giggling pink sprite appeared, flying right besides them.
She wasn't Ago's favorite pokémon to know, since she could be pretty obnoxious. Yet he couldn't deny that she had saved his life many times in the past few, very chaotic years. "Heehee," she laughed while fluttering in front of Ago, "tell me Ago, do you like flying?"
It was a mistake on her part that she assumed Ago couldn't add two and two together. What were they planning to do at the cliff? There was a sick feeling in Ago's stomach that he knew. "Wait, what are we doing? Why are we going to a cliff, exactly?"
The running pokémon swatted at the sprite angrily, nearly stumbling as he did so. "Damn it, Celebi."
"P-put me down!" Ago pleaded, "I'll take my chances with whatever's out there. I hate heights!"
"Calm down," Celebi said smoothly and evenly, "we're not doing anything that will hurt you. You'll enjoy this." She turned away, muttering to herself. "We don't have much time... uh... oh! You like storms, don't you?"
Ago shrugged nervously. "Not right now. But usually, yeah. They're powerful- wait, c-can someone fill me in?"
"How about electricity?"
"Haven't used it in years, ever since I got dragged to this hellhole," he answered.
"You volunteered," the running pokémon coughed out. Ago couldn't deny that.
A great choice that had been. "Listen to me," Ago's companion suddenly begged. "You must remember me. Celebi says that what we are about to do may not work perfectly, but you must make it work."
Ago didn't understand. "Make what work perfectly?! Fuck, just tell me!" They were coming upon the cliff. A crashing torrent rang from the bottom of it, waves most likely beating upon the jagged shore. They did not stop moving forward, and Celebi went ahead to the front of the cliff, like a gate-keeper.
"Stop now, Daté! I shall make you suffer! STOP!"
Daté gave his friend a confident look as they stopped at the edge of the cliff. "You are my friend, Ago. Promise that we will find each other."
Whatever was going to happen, there was no delaying it. Ago trusted this pokémon with his life. "I promise."
The moment Daté had assured that Ago promised to find him, he planted a deft foot on the edge of the cliff. "Close your eyes, and it will be over quick," he said.
"Wait!" Ago cried out desperately. "Don't leave me!" There was no place for a human to survive without help. He had also come to like this pokémon, which was a fairly unique thing for him to say. "W-what if I can't find you?"
Daté looked out beyond the storm, taking the time to think of a real answer for his friend. After a moment, he had it. "Though the parting hurts... the rest is in your hands. I trust you to perform your tasks well, Ago."
And then they leaped off the cliff. Ago closed his eyes as the nauseous feeling of free-falling overwhelmed him. Yet he never felt himself hit the sharp rocks below. Only falling, and falling, and falling...
