"Yeah so anyways," Linoone continued, briefly stopping to shake the snow from his coarse fur. "You're gonna find the place around a corner down in the gutter, yeah? It's before the pub but not after. Don't go after, unless you're into that sorta thing. And it's the pub on Second Street, the one with the broken sign. Not the one a quarter mile out with the trees. I mean, you'd know it if you saw it, but what I'm sayin' is that you shouldn't be seein' it. You follow me?"
Vallion snorted at the mucus in his nose and grunted, wishing in vain that he could spontaneously adapt to the cold. "Yeah, I hear you."
West District didn't seem like a particularly nice place to live regardless of the time of year. Beige masonry and red brickwork all faded into monotone in the Serperior's eyes, overwhelmed by the white and the grey and the black that smothered everything. This whole section of the city had been built upon the turbulent foothills of a nearby mountain. As a result, much of the stone that had been laid years ago started to crack from the gradual movement of the earth, affecting everything from sidewalks to buildings. Sometimes he would see a vain attempt at filling in the gaps with grout, but such glimmers of hope were few and far between.
The people didn't seem too pleased to be here, either. Most of the faces that he and Linoone passed kept their heads low and their eyes lower. Those that did look up often had predatory eyes, glaring at passersby in their vigilant search for trouble. One thing Vallion did notice was that Linoone's presence made most of those pokemon avert their gazes. The fool must not have been lying about his position after all. Or perhaps they knew Linoone wasn't worth the effort.
"You know what?" Linoone suddenly started again, as if the mere thought of the pokemon was enough to gain his attention. "I've been wonderin' 'bout all this. I don't actually know how they're gonna, y'know, induct you in or whatever. Outsiders almost never join with Shardurr. They typically go to the guys across town if at all. Actually, we're usually the ones that crack down on outsiders in the first place, so…"
"I'm sure it'll be manageable," Vallion brushed him off.
"All I'm sayin' is that- Ah dammit this better work out! You better do whatever they want you to, bright-eyes! If they tell ya to jump off a bridge, I better see your splat mark on the ground by tomorrow morning!"
"You might see somebody's splat mark. Couldn't say for sure if it would be mine, but again, that depends on how they want to conduct their business."
Linoone hissed. "Don't fuck this up for me, pal! I got a lot ridin' on this and I ain't got any second chances! Anyways, I've led ya far enough that anyone with half a brain cell could find the rest of the way. Go figure it out why don't ya? I got places to be."
With that, Alexander's loyal informant scuttled off down some side road and left Vallion to his own devices. He was almost relieved, since the constant chatter that spilled from that guy's mouth didn't help his nerves at all. If the cold wasn't enough to make his spine try to lock up, the gravity of what he was about to do certainly was. Sighing and shivering in the same breath, the Serperior went on his way through the downtrodden streets.
It was on a particularly steep stretch of hill that he eventually came across his destination. Every piece of real estate along Second Street was built to remain level along the ever-descending slope. It was so unforgivably vertical that Vallion felt himself start to slip on the ice at times. His saving grace from the cold was some run-down old business with a sign hanging loosely out front. It advertised the faded image of what looked like a tankard over some illegible text. The alley before and not after, right?
Even in the bright of day, light had trouble infiltrating the space between the two buildings, making the alley feel more like some foreboding abyss than anything else. The path was unsurprisingly lined with graffiti and vandalism. The most prevalent of symbols Vallion saw as he pressed onward was a specific letter carved out of the stone. Two offset diagonal lines parallel to one another, and a perpendicular diagonal slash to connect the two of them, forming a rudimentary 'S' shape. Shardurr didn't seem very creative when it came to branding, it seemed. In any case, every instance of the symbol was specifically carved out of the wall, never written.
There was a backdoor into the pub all the way at the end of that murky corridor. It was small enough that Vallion probably wouldn't have been able to fit if he had any other body shape. Another wave of graffiti warned him that this was no place for strangers. Even so, there was no lock to stop him from turning the handle. He would've taken a deeper preparatory breath, but the air back here was stale and filthy.
His eyes had already adjusted to the dark, so it wasn't such a shock when he made the transition to strained candlelight. Inside was what appeared to be another bar entirely hidden beneath the one upstairs, but this one felt half-finished. All the wooden fixtures were cobbled together with raw, unflattering planks and dowels. The barren cobblestone walls lacked any sort of secondary construction or insulation. Even the dusty rafters and supports were exposed.
Ramshackle as it may have been, it was far from empty. At least a dozen heads turned to face the Serperior as he entered. An uneasy silence gripped the room almost immediately. In spite of this, the Serperior shut the door behind him. Then, without meeting anyone's direct eye contact, he started towards the end of the bar. There were even heat signatures up inside the scaffolding of the ceiling.
His cold, wet scales scraping against the splinters of the floor were practically the only thing he could hear. Vallion felt the pressure start to squeeze at his throat. He settled in front of the countertop and around the support of a cheap stool, too many eyes burning at the back of his head all the while. This was part of the plan, he reassured himself. To act like he belonged, he had to force himself in.
As that terrible moment dragged on, the Serperior glanced around where there weren't adversaries to meet his glare. The bar was actually rather well-stocked, and while it certainly had its fair share of watered-down swill, he spotted some rather interesting names to see on bottles this far north. Things that shouldn't be sold in a bar. Things so strong and so toxic that they could give a poison type a buzz, and kill any other pokemon who ingested more than a few drops.
There was a stomping that shook the very foundation of the building. One step after another, the massive presence advanced from the opposite end of the bar. Vallion resisted the urge to flinch as the pokemon slammed down right beside him. The silence fell again, but he could feel the creature's breath on the side of his face. After a few seconds, he finally turned.
A Druddigon, one that had no right being as large as they were, stared him down. There was an old bandage around their shoulder and a nasty scar on their cheek just below their eye. A low growl started in the base of their throat, which grew until just the vibration alone could be felt in the floorboards.
"You," they finally said, spitting the word out at the tail end of their growl. "You're came to the wrong place at the wrong time, outsider."
"Really? I don't think so," Vallion slowly spoke, as if anything said too rapidly might set off a bomb in his face. "I was told that this was where I should go if I wanted to join up with Shardurr. Was I lied to?"
"It's disgusting how you think you can use that name so casually." The dragon raised their lip to reveal a row of fangs. "You don't have any idea who we are. You don't have any idea what you're doing here. As far as I'm concerned, you're lunch, and you just walked through the door and sat on my plate."
Vallion's expression soured at the smell of the Druddigon's rancid breath. "If I'm so clueless, then would you mind filling me in? Is it such a strange thing that someone might want to join your group?"
A wave of snickers washed over the room behind him.
"He wants to know!" one of the voices sneered.
"Tell 'em, Brute! Fill 'em in!" another chimed in.
The Druddigon stepped forward to erase the few inches Vallion earned from sliding away. "You wanna know why you're such a dumbass? I hate your guts, but since you're so pathetic, I'll tell you. We run the streets of Paradise here. These are our houses. These are our shops. You're sitting at our counter. This is our place. And who the fuck are you supposed to be? You ain't from around here, and yet you're stupid enough to think that you can run with us?"
"Was I wrong in that assumption?"
Another round of laughter came from the shadowy audience. The massive dragon turned their head just a couple degrees towards them, and every chuckle was cut short almost instantly. With order restored, they redirected their teeth back towards their original prey.
"We've had outsiders join before," they growled. "They had to go through hell and back. Most don't make it out the other side in one piece. This isn't some two-bit group of smugglers and delinquents. We're the next generation of this city. Nobody gets in without a price, and that means double for your kind."
The Serperior narrowed his eyes. "Did I stutter at any point? Stop gloating and name that price already. I assume you have better things to do than lord over me."
Jeers filled the air. Claws and hooves slammed against the cheap tables and floorboards. It felt as though the room would crash down on him at any minute, the presence of their boss the only thing keeping a lynching from breaking out.
"Tell 'im! Tell 'im already!"
"Hurry it up already! Let's get this show on the road!"
The Druddigon cracked a smile, revealing a back row of razor teeth. "Fee of entry is steep. Outsiders have to prove that they truly want be Shardurr more than anything. Think of it like a...a rebirth, from wherever the fuck you came from. It's been a long time since an outsider's showed up, and we were getting hungry. They each get to take a piece out of you, see? We slam some humility into your skull, and then maybe we'll see whether you're Shardurr material once we scrape you off the floor afterwards."
Vallion blinked. "So what you're saying is-in order to get in-I have to let myself get beaten half to death by everyone here? Is that what you mean?"
"Well ain't you smart?" cried an Incineroar from the crowd. A rousing roar agreed with the thug as they stood from their seat. "And you know what th' best part is? If you so much as throw a single punch back, we ain't gonna pull ours anymore! Happened to the last one, y'know. Guy that finished him off had'ta clean the blood outta the walls for days."
"Or," the Druddigon began, silencing the rest of the rabble with a single syllable. "If you're scared shitless, you can leave. You get the fuck out of the town, and you don't let any of us see your filthy mug ever again. We ain't monsters. You got one chance to change your mind and fuck off before we plaster you. One."
Displeased shouts and vicious insults exploded from the ruffians. Clearly they weren't too fond of this rule. Pokemon like these were the same kind that would gladly join guilds to hunt down outlaws for sport. Violent, but trapped in a place where violence was disallowed. They had to take it out on someone. Dammit, he was gonna have to do this the hard way after all.
Vallion furrowed his brow. "...Fine. I had no intention of backing down, anyway."
Drunken cheers filled the air. Vallion turned his attention away from the dragon to glare at the crowd.
"However!" the Serperior continued once the volume of their excitement began to wane. "I never said I intended on becoming a punching bag. I'm joining this gang either way, but nobody's going to lay a finger on me and get away with it. You would've been better off sending me away with some ridiculous task to complete."
"That ain't how it works, meat!" Druddigon bellowed above the uproar. Then, for whatever reason, they took a few large steps back and leaned against the opposite end of the counter. "But you know what? Go ahead. See how that ends up."
The Incineroar was the first one to step forward. There was a swagger in their step that pissed Vallion off, which made him glad that they were the first one who volunteered to be a demonstration.
"You fuckin' idiot. You got that much of a deathwish?" the fire type said with a sneer. More pokemon started to rise from their seats, or push off of the wall, or fly down from the rafters. They all egged the Incineroar on with their shouts. "Maybe you ain't so smart after all. If you know what's good for you, when I throw this punch, you ain't gonna do shit. Ain't that right?"
Vallion twisted his body towards the approaching thug. He was almost relieved that the situation was finally going to boil over. Perhaps he might have already failed Alexander's mission, but at least he didn't have to pretend to get along with these fools.
"Squaring up? Do you know who I am?" The Incineroar laughed. "Of course 'ya don't. Ain't even got a clue whose balls I came out of. Otherwise you wouldn't even be tryin'. Here. Lemme wipe that stupid fucking look off your face."
They reared back. Vallion didn't budge an inch. Their fist came barreling in without any grace or nuance, which made it exceedingly easy for Vallion to wrap a vine around their wrist and misdirect the attack straight past his head. The Incineroar had this expression of insulted disbelief like they hadn't actually believed him until now. That expression spread to the entire bar as he wrenched the Incineroar's arm and tossed them aside like the trash they were.
What started as a stunned silence exploded into a tempest of motion and noise. Wood scraping on wood was overwhelmed by a chorus of tribal yells, then a dozen charging footsteps. The first to reach Vallion were those in the skeleton of the ceiling, diving down together in a surge of malice. He sidestepped a swooping Yanma and wrapped his vines around a Spearow in the same motion. Before the bird even had time to thrash about, Vallion threw it at the closest target in the crowd.
The flood of thugs came crashing in. The Serperior rolled his body away from their snapping jaws and swings, picking up the stool he'd been coiled around and cracking it across a Hawchula's head. Flying splinters didn't dissuade the tide of bodies that rushed at him. Vallion curved himself to narrowly avoid the blades of a Bisharp, did the same with his tail to miss the wild swing of a Rillaboom, and slid up onto the countertop with his midsection. The Yanma came around for another pass, but was struck out of the air with a precise jab to the abdomen.
From that higher ground, it was even more difficult for the mass to strike at Vallion without hitting one another. The Bisharp's arm embedded itself into the cheap wood in a failed attempt at disembowelment, leaving it wide open to a slam from the Serperior's lower body. The blow knocked it free of the counter and cut a hole in the crowd where people had wisely dodged out of the way. A Venonat filled the gap and swung by to bite a chunk out of him, unwittingly crashing into the back of the Rillaboom that was about to land a blow.
Globs of acid arced through the air and splashed into the display of bottles. At the same moment, a Rhydon crashed straight through the countertop and attempted to launch Vallion into the wall. He reflexively lunged from from what little footing he had left and bit into his attacker's shoulder, clamping down. Though his teeth barely managed to penetrate their thick hide, it was enough of a grip to lift his whole body by just the strength of his jaws and neck. An entire Serperior shifting its weight around by a single point was enough to throw even the heaviest of pokemon off-balance, and this Rhydon was no exception.
The thug stumbled backwards to regain their footing, their swinging tail taking out two tables and three more of his opponents. Before the Rhydon could retaliate properly, Vallion yanked at their ankle and shifted their weight even further backwards, twisting the Rhydon's joints and bringing them down for good. Another volley of acid smashed into the surrounding area and splashed the Serperior quite badly in the lower body. Not that he felt much pain at the moment. It was more about the displeasure of letting something like that hit him at all.
More enemies piled in. The Incineroar had gotten back up, as well. Clutching at their dislocated shoulder, they covered themself in an aura of flames and charged at the Serperior, practically blind with rage. Vallion merely had to put himself low to the floor and slam into their knees to send them tumbling onward into the growing pile of fools.
A Shiftry thought they had a perfect opportunity to finish Vallion off and went in to slash at his jugular. The Serperior curled out of the way in the blink of an eye, and followed the motion to catch the Shifty the same grapple that took down the Rhydon. Vallion felt something break in them as he rode their body down into the ground.
It seemed like the rest of the battle went by in a blur. He barely recognized the pokemon he was fighting before he took them down. These thugs were vicious, but they didn't know how to fight like he did. Unprotected limbs were wrested away and easily pulled into submission. Stances and charging attacks rarely supported the weight of the attacker, so each redirection sent them flying. Friendly fire was all too common, and when the Gloom in the back hit one too many of their own kind, some of the gang members became distracted with stopping the poison type instead. It was chaotic violence in its purest form, and in this martial trance, Vallion had complete control.
The Serperior didn't make it out unscathed, but he was one of the few left standing when all was said and done. He heaved for breath, his vines curled in defensive postures in front of him, ready for the next surprise to burst out of his peripheral vision. However, the remnants of his foes were all left writhing on the floor. Those who hadn't been knocked clean out nursed their broken bones or crawled through the splinters.
Abuzz with adrenaline, Vallion finally turned to the Druddigon and shivered with anticipation. The dragon met his eyes, slowly build up a roar so loud that there was no way the pokemon on the street couldn't hear it. It paired well with the howl of the blood in his ears.
"Hold it!"
A feminine voice cut the Druddigon short. A nimble form moved through the shadows of the rafters, kicked off a support pillar, and landed gracefully amidst the mess. A Weavile. Vallion turned to meet his new opponent before his mind could catch up, but the ice type stepped over the debris and walked straight past him instead. Still holding his reactive stance, it slowly dawned on him who this pokemon was.
"What?!" the Druddigon snarled, their wings and claws twitching with anger. "Why?! Why stop me again?! Look at what he's done to us! I'm gonna rip his throat out and tear the spine from his back!"
The Weavile ignored them entirely. After calmly regarding the carnage for a moment, she pivoted around and sauntered towards a larger doorway at the far side of the bar. She beckoned to the both of them with a curl of her talons before disappearing into the darkness just beyond.
It was around that point when Vallion finally started to notice his wounds. Burns stung, gashes throbbed, and the countless contusions he'd suffered swelled with blood. He grit his teeth and hurried through the door before the Druddigon. Judging from the wanton destruction the dragon started to unleash upon what was left of the furniture in response to their master's orders, it was probably a better idea in the long run to follow a dark type into a poorly-lit hallway than stick around.
The passage led up some stairs and opened up into another dim room. This one seemed more fitting for the location, looking just like any other backroom you might find in a business like this. Flashing Vallion a crooked smile, the Weavile hopped up on some barrels and took a coy seat among the freight.
"Who are you?" the Serperior asked, knowing full well who this was.
"Give it a minute," she said. Once the rest of the crashing downstairs ended, she gestured away from the door and clicked her tongue.
Right on cue, the Druddigon's claws crushed the corner of the doorway. They stuck their head into the light, enough daggers in their stare to arm a small militia. The bandage around their shoulder had turned scarlet as their wound reopened. "Why, Chenza?! This one deserves to die a terrible death for crossing us! You know he does! Let me-"
"Shut up, Brute. Really, you're giving me a headache," she spoke without even an ounce of fear or intimidation. It was strange, seeing such a small pokemon lord over as overwhelming a beast as this.
"Tell me why! Such a humiliating...I ought to skin you alive, snake! You should've left when you had the chance!"
A grating sound pierced the air as three claws dragged up the side of the brick wall. The Weavile punctuated her point with an impatient rapping at the end. "Be quiet already! You know damn well why we're back here! Unless you've already forgotten your own entrance into this little group, that is. I wouldn't put it past you."
"What's all this, then? On with it already!" Vallion nearly shouted.
"Hm? Still wound up, are we?" Chenza sat up from her recline. "Why not take a load off? Relax. You're already in our ranks as far as I'm concerned. And for your information, what I'm concerned with happens to be very important to what Shardurr is concerned with."
"You can't-!"
The Weavile cut the dragon off with a loud hush. "You really don't remember, Brute? How very disingenuous of you. How could you forget the time when you first traveled here from Sand Continent? We tried this exact trick on you, as well. Only you know what? This guy didn't kill half the pokemon in the room in the process. In fact, I don't even think he killed any of them, and I certainly saw some points where he could've wrung a neck or two. Subtlety is an important skill to have in this business. You don't have it, buddy."
Brute deflated with another earth-shaking growl. The fire in his eyes had faded, but it still felt much safer to stand as far away from him as physically possible.
A shuddering cough left Vallion's frame. He hadn't quite caught his breath yet, and the adrenaline that still lingered in his blood felt absolutely terrible. Now he remembered why he hated fighting like that. "So, what? Have I passed the secret entrance exam or something like that?"
"Ha! It'd hardly call it anything like that. I don't think I call it anything at all. Regardless, I have a discerning eye when it comes to pokemon that can defeat an entire bar of drunken bastards. Not that that's a particularly common measure of ability." The Weavile hopped down from her perch on all fours. She began to size up the Serperior in earnest, gauging the extent of his injuries.
"People call me a lot of things. Most call me boss. My mother called me Chenza. I suspect you didn't slog through that to walk away empty handed. Did you, Serperior?"
He exhaled. "I came here with a goal, and according to you, I've accomplished it already. That's all there is to it."
She raised a palm towards him. "Now wait there just a minute. That most certainly isn't all there is to it. Sure, you beat down a handful of my guys to force your way through, but that doesn't explain why you did it. An outsider wouldn't go and do all that without a damn good reason to. Now that we're past the hard part, you're gonna tell me that reason."
The Serperior winced a bit on the inside. This was fine, though. He had a feeling that such a question might come up at some point. This conversation was one of the few he came to expect out of this excursion. It was all a part of the character he had to become.
"Alexander," he answered with as steady a voice as he could muster. "The Serperior that rules this territory. I'm after him, or more specifically, everything that he owns. I've heard that many have tried and failed to take this territory from him. That should make it all the more glorious when I finally manage to overthrow him."
"Ah! So you're one of those, I see! Makes sense. You don't see any of your species around these parts for the exact same reason." Chenza continued to circle around him, her footsteps somehow almost completely silent. "But that's also kinda weird, don't you think? All the other Serperior who tried the same thing went about it in the same way. They'd march up to the capitol, demand a duel or whatever it is they'd do, and usually get their heads chopped clean off. What the fuck's with you, then? A Serperior coming for help against another Serperior?"
Vallion cleared his throat. "History is written by the victor, as they say. The fools who attack a hopeless problem head-on get cut down like they deserve. I cannot take him on myself, I admit, but I don't necessarily have to take him on with an even playing field. Who's to say what I did or didn't do to win when I'm on top?"
Chenza snickered. When she had circled just outside of his field of vision, the Weavile jumped up and slipped right past his neck. She landed directly in front of him, having somehow dismantled the knot in his Harmony Scarf in that fraction of a second. With the most mild of curiosity, she held his precious thing up to the light and halfheartedly examined it. Vallion struggled not to rush forward and swipe the scarf out of her grimy claws then and there. Before his vines could make that decision for him, she shrugged and carelessly tossed it over her shoulder. He rushed to catch it and hastily reattached it to himself.
"Sounds like a pretty good plan you got there," she finally said. "Put yourself below someone else for just long enough to use them as a bridge to the top. Not many of your kind would have the ambition to do that. Those prudish cunts would rather get decapitated than have to bow their head for one measly moment."
"Naturally," the irritation in Vallion's voice had no hope of being smothered at this point. "I didn't come here to be a meager pawn. I've come to earn what is rightfully mine, by any means necessary."
A haughty laugh left the Weavile's mouth, rows of needle-like fangs on display. "That's funny! I happen to sympathize with that exact sentiment, in fact! That's a fairly common state of mind around here. Perhaps you'd fit right in after all. Though that line of thinking has led to some...unfortunate consequences, I've found."
"What are you-?"
"Hey. Serperior. We've just met, but I think you'll come to find that I'm not fucking stupid. You're not telling the full truth. Not that I expected you to, of course, but slimy fucks like you are the exact kind of pokemon you can't trust with your back. I've learned how to pick apart what's real and what's bullshit over the course of my life. How about you tell me why you're really here and I'll help you get what you want. As long as you help me get what I want in turn, obviously."
In that moment, Vallion wondered if she had picked up on the way his heartbeat skipped. There wasn't a second answer to this question. He had thought that what he came up with would have sated anyone's curiosity. What was he supposed to answer with? What could she possibly mistake with the truth?
"Well? You gonna take all day with this?"
"I-..." the Serperior cut himself off, inhaled, and tried again. "Alexander is...This isn't the first time I've encountered them. Our paths crossed for the first time on the Water Continent a very long time ago. He did something that I would never be able to forgive him for. The fame and fortune are pleasant rewards, yes, but they aren't the reason I've come to this god-forsaken wasteland of a kingdom. I want revenge."
Chenza's eyes brightened as she rolled her wrist forward, urging him even further. He bared his fangs in protest, but relented all the same. "He hurt someone I love dearly. He betrayed our trust, disrupted the peace of the land, and nearly killed her as a result of his actions. Had things been different that day-had a single minute more passed before help came-she would have bled out beneath me and died."
"Ha! That explains the scarf!" Chenza's shoulders finally relaxed. He didn't even know they were tense to begin with. Her toothy grin didn't feel friendly at all as gave him a slap on the side, just barely keeping the tips of her claws away. "You know what, Serperior? I think we're gonna have a very fruitful relationship in the coming months. What do you say, Brute? Think Freak'll like him?"
"Your wishes are the only thing in the way of me killing him. That doesn't extend that far. If you step out of line a single inch, snake, I will snap you like a fucking twig."
"See? You're already part of our little family! And like the pillar of any family, you better be a damn good breadwinner."
