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Chapter 2

Of the Release of Sal-Mon

It was a typical, sunny day in Kanto. The sky was blue; with not a dark cloud in it, as is often the case when it does not rain. Ash Ketchum, aspiring pokemon master (along with his faithful companion, Pikachu), was following a rather intriguing yellow brick road in hopes of discovering the pokemart fairy. Needless to say, he failed dismally, and found himself on the outskirts of a rather menacing-looking land instead. Backed by the intelligence of his race, the sharp-minded boy immediately began to assess the situation, and use his amazing skills of deduction to plot a further course of action for the two of them.

"What do you think, Pikachu?" His asked, brown eyes ablaze with an unhealthy fire, "They might have rare pokemon there! Should we go in?"

The yellow electric rodent shook his head frantically, made several gestures of discouraging nature, and pointed repeatedly in the opposite direction. He produced a boldly lettered "DO NOT ENTER" sign for good measure.

"Pi! Pikapii! Chu!"

"I knew you'd agree!"

Firmly seizing hold of his pokemon's tail, the trainer then proceeded to walk headlong onto a muddy path, overshadowed by acres upon acres of rotting vegetation. Pikachu whacked its furry head in his wake, cursing the Fates for their incessantly cruel sense of humour in bestowing such an idiot as its lifelong master.

Ash whistled cheerfully as he skipped along the path of death, seemingly oblivious to the flaming arrows whistling past his ear ("What interesting bird calls,"), randomly flung axes ("Did you feel that draught?"), and perfectly normal red glowing eyes that followed them in the underbrush. In the meantime, Pikachu had engrossed itself in writing it's will, and praying to whichever god still watched over unfortunate electrical appliances.

The aforementioned god, however, did not appear to be doing his job very well, for the very next moment, the duo found themselves at the rusty gates of a colossally tremendous black castle. Banners depicting the gruesome dismemberment of any and all trespassers hung from each of its thirteen turrets, and vultures, ravens and kites soared ominously above their heads. These, Ash immediately overlooked.

"'The Black Castle of Sal-Mon'," Ash impressed his now-trembling Pikachu with his incredible literary skills, "'only muffin delivery trucks, bakers, and pizza delivery guys allowed beyond this point'." He paused, "Well, I guess we're okay then!"

But Pikachu shook its head and pointed to yet another signboard.

'You have to be this tall to enter'

The chalk line included hovered several inches above Pikachu's head, and the pokemon faked a sigh of regret. "Pika pii chu…"

Ash's brow furrowed as he tried to jiggle his sedentary mind into a burst of creativity. Nothing happened.

"Oh well…I guess you'll just have to wait for me here,"

Pikachu fought hard to keep a disappointed expression. Perhaps Fate did have its little perks after all.

The interior of the castle was, as its name suggested, black. It was also, pitch-dark, murky, and crawling with Spinarak, Weedles, and other unidentifiable species of the insect family. After stumbling blindly off walls for the better part of half an hour, Ash finally made it to the Throne Room. Or rather, Ash crashed through a brick wall after slipping on a bar of soap, and demolished a previously nonexistent entrance into the Throne Room.

When the room stopped revolving on the spot, Ash discovered that it did, in fact, have lighting. Either that, or the blow to his head had done more damage than previously expected. In either case, Ash was able to make out the outline of a rather large and important-looking seat, which he instantly dismissed as a box of crayons. And perched on top of that box was a black sphere which his bruised brain interpreted as being a pokeball. Now, being used to helping himself to discarded pokeballs and escaping unscathed, Ash proceeded to seize it without any regard for the consequences. That is what one gets for automatically assuming that taking something that does not belong to you will result in a dramatic plot complication, and will end up with you winning a fight, getting thanked, and sappily waving goodbye as a girl sobs into a lace handkerchief and thinks that you are the finest creature to walk the face of the earth.

Naturally, of course, this did not happen. As the pokeball clattered to the ground and exploded in a flash of light, Ash was vaguely aware of the lights flickering, an unholy black mist filling the room, and several thunderclaps issuing from the unseen world beyond.

"Raaaai…"

The next fact that lodged itself into Ash's mind was that Thunderbolts hurt, and flying headfirst through wood and stone and concrete was not at all good for the scalp.

Several miles away, on an uncharted island off the coast of Johto, Agatha, Queen of the Elves, readjusted her feathery pink stick-on Dragonair ears, and stuck her finger gracefully up her nose as the sun suddenly went out.

"The Age of the Idiots has begun," She whispered hoarsely to Lance, her unwilling subject. The dragon master stared at her in an odd way, and edged away as inconspicuously as it was elfishly possible. "Sal-Mon has been released. The War of the Ring will soon begin."

"Then we must find the ring," Lance made a tremendous show of stating the obvious, "before Sal-Mon gets his paws on it."

"Aye," Agatha frowned, further enhancing her prune-like appearance, "we must. Call up the Wise Trio. We need to meet with the Legendaries and seek aid from those who have been against his dark influence from the beginning."

"I thought they tried to enlist as Sal-Mon's apprentices, but were fired when they blew up half his troops in a freak magic accident?"

"Against…rejected…what's the difference?"

"Ah…" Lance took out his frilly purple cell phone and started dialing, "Anything else?'

"Yes." Agatha nodded, and her multiple chins wobbled to the beat, "I need you to find three trainers who are dim-witted and easily expendable. They will be the backbone of our search party, being the few who have opposable thumbs."

Lance took out a notepad and started scribbling. "Mmhmm…got it…"

"We'll also need an update on the whereabouts of the Ring. The last bit of info was given over two centuries ago, so it's going to be a bit outdated."

"Update…on…Ring…okay…"

"And re-dye your hair, won't you?" Agatha snapped, "That bright red colouring is getting on my nerves,"

"You're one to comment," Lance muttered under his breath, as the elegant Queen hitched up her grass skirt and marched from the room. "At least my hair grows where it's supposed to."

~End fic~

Ha! Agatha's the Elf Queen; betcha didn't see that one coming! XP

Pinky's got most of the Fellowship down…vacancies for a couple of roles though …any ideas? Don't wanna make them all pokemon…but the choice of humans are kinda…hard-pressed…-_-;

In what unnatural places does Agatha's hair grow? I'll just leave that to your imagination, shall I? ^_^

Ideas? Comments? Suggestions? Juz click on the lil blue button below. ^-^