Gather 'round, children, to hear a tale, a tale of strength and of triumph, of treachery and wickedness. There is vast good and evil amongst the world, and when they conflict, the impossible becomes the guaranteed.
WHY WOBBUFFET ALWAYS ATTACK LAST
Long, long ago, there were two mighty kingdoms to the far East of Johto and the far West of Kanto. The kingdoms reached just that far- they had been growing for hundreds of human years.
Alas, all was not peaceful, not at all- for these kingdoms had been in conflict from their very start, right down to the first kings ever to grace the spectacular mansion in the center of their capitals.
The two were twin brothers, rivals in greatness since they hatched out of their eggs so, so long ago. They were always trying to one-up each other, from birth unto death.
These two war-filled kingdoms were separated from each other by a vast forest of pine, the forest where both had grown before spreading outward.
The forest was inhabited by all of the many pokemon wishing not to have to participate in any of the the brutish battles that seemed to happen constantly, as they almost nearly did.
You see, the battles were not battles of land, nor of sea, or even of sky- these battles were battles of Dark Earth, as they occurred in deep tunnels buried hundreds of feet below the forest. However, they never, never came into the forest itself to fight - it was neutral ground, where bloodshed was banned.
There, they found peace from the rampaging kingdoms, ruled by rampaging cousins, hoping to once and for all prove that their grandfather several generations removed was, in fact, the better creature.
One day, there was an especially terrible battle. Both kingdoms knew that hundreds of the dead would be dotting the borders by dawn the next day, and those in the forest did what they always did. They slipped into their huts, their houses, and even any nearby caves.
But two of them remained- a farm boy swalot, and his best friend, a farm girl kecleon. The two of them had grown tired of the dead they had found across their shared land, as they lived close to the underground tunnel's entrance.
They decided to take a stand, to try and cease the battle, as best they could.
Once word of the terrible battle reached them, they immediately came to the cave, ready to end it, once and for all. They would seal up the tunnel, and the armies inside. The death inside the tunnel would be more peaceful, or so they thought.
However, things, as they tend to do, did not go according to plan. The instant th two entered the tunnel, they were caught in the mad storm of war. Spears, swords, teeth and nails clashed in insane cacophonies.
The two quickly became separated, a dozen or more soldiers creating a barrier between the two. They yelled to each other, but 'twas in vain- soon their shrieks of horror at being attacked joined the thousands of others.
But it was the kecleon girl that screamed loudest, as a dagger was thrust deep into her chest. Soon her blood caked her scales.
Her swalot friend heard her voice, and, in a blaze of fury, shot his way through the many other soldiers. Her reached her as the last bit of her blood was lost, her body becoming limp and lifeless.
As could be expected, he was outraged. He let out a feral roar of pain and misery, and fell down on his arms over her, sacrificing his body to save hers from being molested by the battle.
His skin became tough as the dozens of weapons hit it, but still, he stood. Dribbling of blood from his back burned his eyes, forcing him to close them. Then, a miraculous change took place. His body changed, morphed into something new, something hard. Hid body became blue with bruises, and his mass came to his head and feet, to stabilize himself.
After many hours, the soldiers killed each other, leaving the prone swalot.. or what was a swalot. He had changed, not evolved, but changed all the same. As he stood to see just what had occurred, the sight of the blood forever filled his mind. On that day, he vowed to only ever act in defense, never offense- never commit such horrific crimes.
With the last of his strength, he pulled himself and his friend's body out of the cave. Pokemon from the forest watched with horror as they saw her form. Such events were brought to the kings of both kingdoms, who saw what they had done. Such terror they had instilled, such havoc they had wrought. Never again would they wage battle.
But to this day, that new pokemon, and his children, and his children's children, and so on maintain his noble decision- to never attack on offense. To never do as those soldiers had done.
To never harm another creature unless forced to.