Sorry if I took a bit to update. I got most of what I need with this Fic Figured out now, expect things to be more consistent from here on in.

There weren't any bandits, just uninhabited swathes of drab coast that kept going and going. About the only thing noteworthy to be found on the ocean's edge was a forest's Come to think of it, there wasn't anything dangerous about their walk back save for the possibility of falling asleep and being swept into the waters a renegade wave. Though with this Prinn fellow at his side, the chances of that happening had been thrown out the window. This of course, didn't keep the Braviary from stopping to keep on an eye on Prinn, who innocent as he may seem, clearly wanted something of his. A slight dash of paranoia once in a while never hurts to have.

He's already been through through this once, but he wasn't about to belabour the point to himself again if it wasn't a darned good point in the first place. Nobody asks the person they had just helped off their feet for favours if their intent wasn't ever to help them in the first place, but to use them dry.

It's wasn't not too hard to hide favours as being charity, it was how most pokemon wind up looking to guilds after they drive themselves broke repaying the 'kindness' of whomever had steered them in the right direction. When the poor soul eventually gets roped up into their new job, said guild would give them everything they want for a generous share of everything they make. (The same guild who conveniently reopened recruitment the day would-be adventurers asked then closed the day after, go figure.) Give or take nearly a year of this and it'd be impossible for the beggar-turned-adventurer to leave everything done for the guild behind, so they'd continue completing their dangerous quests and all with a cordial smile.

For Prinn to want to dedicate much of their precious time trying to gain access to one such guild meant to Braviary he'd fallen into this hook, line and sinker.

Warning him wouldn't work. If the kid had wanted to make the mistake of being roped into a guildmaster's schemes, then by all means let him learn from it. And then he could move on with this life in a year or two after he'd been hung out to dry by his scarf. It wasn't his job to tell people how to live. He knew himself to be the worst person out there to ask for advice on adventuring because anyone experienced in the field like him would say it's all for naught. All he'd do is share the same sentiment as the kid and hope somehow that this guild was cut from a different cloth. Not as though it was the only possible thing he could do for Prinn, but it was the most he would be willing to. Paranoia has yet to hurt him, he shouldn't test it.

There was supposed to be a town near said "Scholar's Guild". A fact he'd forgotten about around the fifth time Prinn had described the place, which thankfully he remembered the sixth time he's told him right as they saw the town's pointed roofs up ahead. Leading from the shore all the way up to town was a pathway set deep into the rocky wall, both cobbled and walled with porous black stones. It was here where his time with Prinn should have come to its end. but he'd be pretty stupid if he thought he'd walk away from this kid so easily. Now that they were at the end of their travel together Prinn looked towards wide and eager, like a kid screaming for attention.

"You want me to show you around?"

Were he to say "Yes, Prinn, I would love to" he'd have to queue away what remains of daylight just so he could be lead straight to the front doors of this scholar's Guild. There he would be asked if their deal, which hadn't even been struck yet, was still on the table. He'd say yes again. Then he'd be lead right into the guild's trap. he'd probably only make off with one day's worth of his time wasted. Perhaps if he were to say yes while keeping his cards close to his chest, then maybe he'd get away from this kid with only half his day wasted.

"Can't say if I've been here before, if I had it wasn't for long." he looked at the water type who promptly smiled back, "You can show me around once you've told me the name of this place."

"Scoria Town!"

"Never heard of it."

"That's what most people say when they first hear the name. Followed up by 'Scoria's where that guild is, ain't it?'" Prinn traipsed his feet up the trail, Braviary dragging himself behind him. "They usually stop asking about Scoria after that. They probably think we're just the same as every other guild town."

"Have you tried changing their minds?" asked the Braviary, "What do you usually say?"

"Well, I start with saying 'it's a Scholar's guild, not an adventuring guild. It's a fascinating place, attracting the smartest around to come together and unravel the world's mysteries instead of poking our noses into dungeons. Maybe it's not all that useful from an outside perspective, but the things they uncover are going to be useful if not today, t-then tomorrow!"

Prinn threw up his flippers as through he scattered a pound of confetti, and for a rehearsed speech reeking of unpaid work, Prinlup sounded quite sincere.

"And after which they walk off don't they?"

"Yep. Every time." he huffed, defeated. "I've started to think folks just aren't interested in coming here. The last person said I should get out more, I think he may have been right."

For someone trying to apply to a prestigious guild, it seemed to him that the Prinplup was an expert in selling things short. To what would be Prinn's dismay should Braviary have decided to voice himself, there wasn't anything he said about Scoria being anything but a typical guild town. The empty look across Braviary's face was telling enough for him. Prinn kept his head down the whole walk up.

Soon they found themselves in the cobbled streets of Scoria Town having strolled in from one of the three roads which all converged on the town's marketplace. Most of the buildings were built from dark wood. As though they had somehow risen from the earth, every single one of them had their pointy rooftops covered in a layer of grassy dirt. Due to the work of some persistent gardening pokemon, these roofs remained evergreen.

The atmosphere was thick with the scent of crisp firewood, cedar resin, and ocean air air, which crept up the huge precipices and over the entire town. Banners decorated with dark green and gold flags hung above the streets and tree branches, mostly cedar, still bloomed with their evergreen leaves and little pine cones. There were carvings in the abundant driftwood from Scoria shores depicting aquatic pokemon lying on their sides, looking quite pleased to have been beached on a peculiar beach.

It was nearing nightfall. The town's windows glowed orange with roaring fireplaces, smoke stacks billowed, and lanterns cast many shadows onto Scoria's dusty roads. Scoria's glowing streets and its three highways proudly stood as the only light in the surrounding forests and pastures. Guild town or not, if Scoria had lasted long enough to have grown to this size in the middle of nowhere then it was remarkable in at least one aspect. Braviary felt home in the company of such staunch stubbornness.

They had finally made it to town with an hour to spare before nightfall, and stopped at a lamppost. Braviary inhaled sharply as he watched the lantern above sway quietly in the evening wind. After a moment or two he hears Prinn begin another one of his long-winded-explanations.

"If they already got the lamps up, then sheesh, we might've been walking for longer than I thought." Prinn chuckles, "Maybe an hour or two off? Maybe three? I don't know, but I'd hate if we got lost in the dark out there."

There was a pause.

"Are you well?" Prinn asked, pulling up to Braviary's side.

"I'm as well as you'd expect. As good as pokemon whose very first thing they had to do after being booted out of their bed was walk a marathon. Which while that's usually well and good for a hearty pokemon to do, unfortunately for me, I'm older than the average fellow." Braviary breathed a deep sigh. "Suffice it to say I feel like my back's out for my blood, and my talons want to join my wing in being torn off. I don't feel well, Prinn, not at all."

Prinn raised a flipper and, Braviary cut him off.

"Oh, and I just thought I'd let you know I could really go for a bed right now. Maybe some chow on top of that, oh, a drink as well – you know, anything to make me feel like I'm not going to keel over all of a sudden."

"I know a few places.." Prinn spoke up, "There's Garl's – everyone just calls him Golduck, though – place which usually has a few beds open year round. As I said, Scoria doesn't get much for visitors. You're kinda an exception, you know."

"Don't tell me what I already know, tell that to the Golduck fellow then. Maybe then he'd think this stranger you found washed up on a beach is someone special enough to consider having him loitering in his inn for a month or two." He was being incredulous of course. "Bed or no bed, if you can sit me down somewhere with a fresh glass of something I'll be fine. I take it you're treating me as some sort of investment anyway so either way, it can't be a bad guess considering how much you've talked about money when we first ran into eachother." Braviary adjusted his brass badge. "But don't go spending all your pennies on this strange bird you found on the beach just because he had a funny badge, alright? That's called being terrible with your money."

"I thought it was called not wanting to see someone pass out."

"I guess you can call it that too."

Prinn stayed still for a moment, staring down the street and further towards the heart of the town. Whether the one place he was looking for was still open so close to closing hour, he could probably pay a coin or two to get this old man a sweet berry to chew on for the time being. The mossy fountain in the middle of the marketplace itself, through dry a majority of the year, was a better place to sit than on the cold ground beneath a lamppost.

"Let's keep going." Prinn said as he waddled further into town, and the old bird followed.

The road thus far had been cobbled with varying levels of craftsmanship, though each of the dark porous stones making up the path seemed quite unique to this area. But the three highways paled into comparison to the craft of the town's square. Each stone brick in the square was wholly unique, all of which were hand placed, sometimes carved to form the vibrant image of a crescent moon. The image of one encompassed an old fountain overgrown with autumn-cored vines. From berry stalls to adventuring equipment, several venues dotted the market square, the majority of which serving their last few customers for the night.

In this case, Braviary sat at the fountain's edge as watched the little guy go up to one who had their stall brimming with berries, and possibly even more hidden in the hundreds of wooden barrels stacked to form three makeshift walls. There were two pokemon behind the stall: a bright yellow psyduck who seemed to be the face of the whole stall – and dressed in the finest golden cloths a pokemon could afford to get smeared in berry juice, and a mienfoo who was there to move all those giant barrels for him and who frankly looked to be having a lot of fun rolling the one they've been using as a footrest. He watched as Prinn pulled up to the counter, and being too far to hear what they were rambling about, he turned his eyes to his surroundings.

He saw the three main highways which cut through the streets and slithered into the wilderness beyond, recognized the aforementioned "Garl's Place" as a tavern whose second story looked as if it were about to spill out into the streets and was actually named "Golduck's Good Tidings" if the crude sign posted outside it was to be trusted, yet he didn't see anything pointing towards this Scholar's guild Prinn had been blabbering about. Maybe it was out of town after all.

Braviary glanced back at the market where his eyes met a curious sight, slightly larger than a Prinplup and alone at its own market. Although a smaller pokemon from him, its intense glare felt like it towered above him. Bird-like in appearance, it had a long mouth-less beak that curved like a scythe, had long white feathers which draped across the ground, and bright magenta feathers. If his gut feeling were true, she had been staring at him for a while. As quickly as their eyes had met, hers backed away when Prinn returned with a bottle in hand. The eerie pokemon who previously had it out for him, simply resumed packaging their stock of unusual billowing urns of all shapes and obtuse sizes.

Prinn uncorked the bottle, and filled a wooden cup he had brought with him. "What I have here isn't the first thing I'd turn for a drink, though given the fountain's dry, I'd say it's the next best thing." he said, "Here you go!"

Braviary took the cup with his wing, took one good look at the odourless black fluid and instantly hesitated. "I appreciate it." He showed the Prinplup the strange substance, " You sure this is safe?"

Prinn peered into Braviary's glass as his look turned from concern to bewilderment. He read the label of the bottle, gave it a good shake, then lifted it up as he took a very quick drink. After a moment, he spoke up. "Um, yeah it tastes pretty safe. It's just not supposed to stay black, maybe try stirring it or something?"

Braviary carefully jostled his cup, took a look, then showed Prinn it was still indeed pitch black. Assuming it was just going to stay the bland colour, Braviary chugged his cup like a plant soaked up water and handed it back.

"Tastes like caramel." he said.

"When you drink it from the bottle it often tastes that way, but I don't think it's supposed to. " Prinn explained, pointing to the bottle, "This stuff's made from Enigma Berries, stuff that only really grows once in a blue moon."

"Point being?"

"Well the guild around here found a way to grow them outside where you usually find them, and when mixed into a wine and exposed to the air – erm, lemme just show you."

Prinn filled himself half a cup of the wine, sloshed it around, and then quaffed it in a swig. Prinn flashed the bottom of his cup to Braviary who saw it the wood stained a slick cobalt blue.

"That metal-ish color in there?" Prinn said, confidently. "It means I'm smart, or a Mariner. I took it as meaning I'd chart the seas one day, maybe see what's out there other than colonies of water pokemon. As you can see, I haven't gotten that far yet."

"Ah, I think I get it. I reckon map-making is bound to do a fellow good if they're lost at seas. I don't mean to put you down, but you're trusting a lot in what looks to me like a parlor trick." Braviary replied.

"It's accurate enough for the guild to use it to introduce new people," the fringes of his smiling, confident face twitch for a moment. It's obvious he's unsure. "That's what this one explorer said when he came to town and showed everyone who was at Garl's at the festival Last Summer. I mean, I might be wrong about it being accurate, but like you said it's still a cool trick. Right?"

When deliberating an important life decision which will stick to them like burs to clothes it's important to base it off something more than a curious trick. It was impressive, if not delicious, but not all too reliable. The whole trick came off as unreliable. Possibly it only worked under ideal conditions, with the right species of pokemon, and required a certain technique he didn't care about. What did strike him was the distinct lack of colour where there was supposed to be something vibrant at the bottom of his cup, that was leagues more interesting than any vague claims about his future.

"You could probably sucker a few people into making some bad decisions with their life, but that's all the reason for you to prove me otherwise." Braviary must have hit a nerve because Prinn was stricken silent for all of a good minute. "Can I have the rest?"

"I did buy it for you." Prinn bluntly replied.

The pokemon's sour mood didn't last very long after he had handed over the bottle. He stared off, thinking for a moment, and something going on inside the pokemon's head made his eyes glow up like fireworks. Knowing all too well what he was in for, Braviary cocked his head back and took an especially long drink from the bottle. A sigh later, he turned to face Prinn, ready to listen.

"Gotta say now that I think of it, this stuff's pretty good. More of a spicy pokemon but I've yet to see spicy berry wine which doesn't taste like chalk, so I'd say your parlor-trick drink here gets a passing grade." Braviary messily jammed the cork back into the bottle. "But just because I've only now gotten a drink don't think for a moment I've forgotten what you said before. What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to come with me to the guild and when they ask, or when I ask – I honestly haven't rehearsed it enough to know which would come first," Prinn said. "Just show them your badge when prompted, okay?"

"Is that it?"

Prinn nodded.

"Well I'll be! You should've just said so!"

Credibility was something earned, not innately given. Sure, the circumstances of where and when a pokemon was born could play a part. Being born in a family of traders but never being one would certainly give the pokemon more merit as a business person than startup tradesman number two-hundred. But a pokemon had to first prove themselves. When a pokemon proved themselves to be reliable, trustworthy, and useful, then they can be counted on to have any modicum of credibility.

For a merchant, she hadn't travelled very far from home, and that was unusual for her, even in her mercantile family She had gone one one trip when she was much younger, but had she known at the time it'd be her last, she would have picked somewhere else other than miserable Scoria Town. Miserable was too harsh of a word to describe the seaside town. It sure beat being in a village out in the middle of nowhere, but given whoever settled this town decided to place it as far away from every other big settlement as possible, it may as well be no different than any other isolated shire. But no, it was hardly the case. For a town to be established by a whole guild of self-proclaimed scholars there had to be something different about Scoria she was missing, and pokemon who she'd view as quite credible, claim to be the case.

However, as many of the bigger merchant clans had yet to set up shop in this nowhere-land, her family decided to take advantage of this untapped potential. Perhaps they had been foolish to make the investment in the first place, but when they had decided to leave for greener pastures the onus had been on her, the second youngest at the time, to keep their store here afloat. She had remained in Scoria Town ever since.

After years of living here on her lonesome, only occasionally seeing the lone sibling drop off product for the shop and collect their share of the income, she had come to have an affection for this strange town.

It was by the sea, it was close enough to an abundant forest where she could forage to supplement her shop's inventory, but somehow too far for any bandits to have to waste their time coming all the way here. They likely didn't want to mosey with a guild of any size. What the guild didn't deter were the odd strangers and entrepreneurs looking to make their names in this town just like her family had so many years ago. Pokemon like that rambling old seer who appeared on the night of last summer's fair.

The fellow was strange enough. For a self-professed wanderer, he had only the clothes on his back, many of which looking much to pristine for a man who's walked the land; and a satchel which was borderline empty save for a couple coins and a set of dice he claimed were carved from a very elusive dragon-type. Something about his uniquely blue feathers seemed to make him stand out in the light of many dangling lanterns, his pelt practically glowed as he meandered from pokemon to pokemon in the marketplace. At the time she hadn't seen him as anyone important. Simply another weird pokemon attracted by the sounds of the festival who she'd do well to keep an eye on. Although all he got from the fair-goers were consistent no's, it had only taken him an hour for him to eventually come crawling up to the merchant at her stall.

He had introduced himself as a traveler, calling himself Xatu while never giving her his real name. He had said he was a psychic, which sure enough his whole species was but he had claimed to be an especially talented soothsayer who possessed the ability to commune with the stars. She hadn't believed believe him in the slightest, what proof did he even have? Listening to the stars shouldn't even be possible given no pokemon had ears that big. She had, however, invested the measly fair he had asked for to get him to do his little jig and keep well away from her customers. To that end, he had been very quick about what he had to say.

For a short time he had stared into the sky, beak agape, until he had finally spoken She recalled him saying much, although little of it amounted to anything of importance. His claims had gonewent from prophetically vast and profound, corroborated by much smaller predictions of the coming days. Little things like how she'd leave a yellow incense to burn too long in her chambers one night, how that on another day she'd come to see five bottles – no more, no less, arranged around teh fountain. In truth she had not care for his talk of the stars, her family's wealth, or his dire soothsaying about the stars one day vanishing therefore leaving people such as him as their only emissaries, What she had really wanted was to know if his prophetic abilities held so much as a pinch of merit.

Sometime when she had all but forgotten about this and the Xatu had long since stumbled back to whence he came, she would get her answer as another strange looking traveler with came into town, hardly similar to the last especially unusual character she'd seen, but looking as terribly dishevelled as she pictured a wanderer should. She kept a stern eye on him in much the same way, watching as the pokemon he had been ravelling with – a wannabe guildie who seemed to have plucked this bum from off the road – left to buy the fellow a drink from Golduck's stall. Yet something hadn't settled right with her about him, something she had been warned about, although only remembering when she looked at what was pinning his ragged robes together.

An explorer's badge made entirely of brass with wings emblazoning a featureless, diamond-shaped emblem made familiar to her by a Xatu long ago.