/ New Coverart by Ratwednesday. Check them out over on the twitters.
A soft push of his wings quietly opens the office. Honchkrow peers inside, no Noivern to be seen but the fireplace heating the upper level still roars. And if she were here, she would have heard him already. Ever since the announcement her claws have been full, now is the only time he will be able to do this.
In a quick motion he swipes his spare key, shuts the door, and locks it. He needs to be swift and soundless. Rather than let his noisy talons scrape across the stone floor, he flutters across the room, landing on his boss' desk.
To his surprise, her desk is immaculate. There are a few circular stains he knows all too well to be the byproduct of a drinking pokemon but otherwise there are no strewn pens, stacks of paper, or clutter save for a single quill and pen. In the back are some noivern-sized drawers and racks filled to the brim with priceless liquor. If she has ever used this desk in the last month, it was probably to sign the bill to afford all these bottles.
Honchkrow hops over to the drawers, balancing himself on the cabinet's lattice while he pulls out drawer after drawer with his beak. He finds nicknacks, precious stones, things of value to everyone other than him. She absolutely keeps her money elsewhere. There is a place he neither knows the location of or wants to know where the wealth she cannot have on display is kept stowed away. He is just banking on this greedy dragon-type to slip up. She in her infinite drunken wisdom has to have left something about a sponsor behind.
Down he travels until his claws reach around a metal handle. It looks like a safe, or a chute for worthless things to be tossed down into. Something inside glows a brilliant gold. A Shiny Stone, perhaps? He pulls on the handle then hears a sound.
The fireplace flickers, he glances over and swears he could see a shadow scurrying past its orange glow. Too small to be her, too quiet to be anything running around. He looks into the glow of the cupboard. He can barely and even smell the paperwork left to moulder in the metal prison. The glow is intense, it feels like sunlight massaging his face.
Honchkrow takes a deep breath. He pulls just in time to see a shadow cast over him.
He swerves his head back, spotting a pair of golden eyes dangling from behind the desk, peering at him inquisitively. It does not move, it does not breathe, but those eyes quiver like they are about to fall out of their sockets in rage.
"You are not supposed to be here."
The door is massive, metal and operated by a single lever from this side. There are unseen mechanisms either on the inside of the steel or within the walls which likely control it. According to their guide this door, as well as the charred old stones around them, are the survivors of two separate infernos.
"One way to find out."
Lucario says to Masters, passing by him Masters keeps a firm hold on his lanterns. His partner approaches the doorway as Masters' eyes scan the scored tourist trap for any sign of what may have caused the chaos unfolding outside of the door. It could not have been any of the trinkets here: the armor pieces, the spears and weaponry a time forlorn. One stood out, a piece of pitch-white masonry which hovers above its glass stand, but not even it seemed as powerful as the treasure Lucario stole.
If Masters cannot see anything, if Lucario's aura sight dredges up nothing, then…
Masters sniffs the air. Brimstone. A sense of dread floods through his nostrils, and he shouts as Lucario's hand touches the metallic lever.
"Get away from that door!"
Too late. Lucario lets out a horrible shriek, gripping a hand which is now smoking before their eyes. Masters rushes over and shoves Lucario behind, briefly catching a glimpse of Lucario's hand: the brass spike protruding from it is red hot.
"You okay?" He asks instinctively.
"Do you want to kiss it better?" Lucario growls. "I bet they have Rawst out there, you think we can borrow a bottle on the way out?"
"Sure, they won't notice."
Masters steps forwards, pressing his ear up against the metallic door. He can feel the heat caking his face. It is intense. Lucario is lucky to have a hand left. And listening in, he can hear the familiar crackling of a house fire raging out of control. The smell too, is unbearably strong.
He looks around the solid metal surface for any kind of seam and finds a crack underneath the lever. Air is flowing through the dark opening. Of course there would be airflow here because what happens if a poor soul gets locked in? But where is the smoke? He places his hand near it, careful not to touch the metal, and it does not feel any hotter than the air beyond the door.
Masters glances at Lucario. "Are you having trouble breathing? Did you see any smoke"
"No." Lucario takes a big whiff of air, grumbling. "Damn stupid aura powers, if I didn't use my senses I would've smelt that burning. We need to get out of here before-"
"You immolate, yes."
Masters pulls out a half-eaten Colbur berry then presses it up against the metal. The thing spontaneously combusts,and falls to the ground as fiery goop. They both stare at the molten mystery.
"You're lucky to have your hand, Luc…" Masters ponders. "Is it hot over there?"
"No."
He takes a final look at the door. It is not melting, it is obviously way more heat resistant than he gives it props. It may still work. Freedom is a pull of a lever away. Was someone waiting for him out there? Where are all the water-types? Why haven't they doused the fire yet, and what happened to their froggy friend? The door cannot hold off the fire forever.
Opening the door is the only way for Lucario to find out, but Lucario Masters is not. He is a ghost, he can try slipping through. Masters has a theory however, a theory he is willing to try.
"Hold your breath, Luc."
"What?"
Masters grabs the lever as Lucario takes a big dramatic breath. With tremendous force, he pulls down on the burning hot mechanism. Several mechanisms creak through the walls, the seal is undone, and it blasts open into a raging hot miasma. Red flames rage all around, smoke chokes the air. He can barely make out the shape of the large dining hall beyond the wall of fire.
Masters slowly turns from the fire. Lucario is behind him, unharmed. He stops holding his breath, he's fine. None of this makes sense.
Lucario shuts his eyes, not wasting a second to try to look past the flames. The bands under his hat rattle intensely and he shouts.
"There's someone in there 'M! Beh-"
Masters throws himself in any direction other than into the flames. A cold gauntleted hand misses him, cutting through the air with a pitch-black energy. It follows with a horizontal slash.
He ducks backwards, throwing his head against and sinking right into the wall as if it were moldable clay. A Night Slash strikes the brick where his neck should be, gouging a wound into the ancient castle.
Masters kicks the figure to middling effect. It grabs his leg and goes for another chop just in time for an Aura Sphere to carve through its fiery aura and send the being hurdling away. The flames travel with the figure, stuck to the being like a localized wildfire. The stone, the wooden flooring, and metal door instantly return to normal. It's as if they were never burning in the first place.
Lucario comes barging forwards. He grasps Master's hand and reels the ghost out of the wall.
"The sucker isn't gonna be walking after that." Lucario says with a smirk. "Got him head on. You still got yours attached, spooky?"
The Typhlosion reaches for his own neck. Still on, minus this awful itchy-fuzzy feeling all over his head where he put part of it into a wall. Nothing will ever get him used to this feeling.
"I think you'd be able to tell."
He looks down at his hand. Lucario is still holding him tight. They share an exchange of glances until Lucario realizes what he's done. Lucario swiftly pulls away.
"Sor-"
"Don't say it." Masters looks over to the fire. His hands are firm on his lanterns - his weapons. "Do you have any idea what that guy is out there? Kicking him felt like kicking the door here."
"I can tell you whoever it has has a really angry aura." Lucario gawks alongside him. "As bad or worse than mine apparently. I think it's a fire-type."
"Steel/fire." Masters taps his foot. The floorboards outside the door are intact somehow. This guild is not aflame, not yet. "I don't know any creature like this."
Before Lucario can reply the glass looking into the dining room shatters as rope is thrown into the room. Three creatures climb up inside - fellows under the size of Lucario. Lucario bolts towards the nearest cover - reaching a small bar in the dining hall as these figures reach into quivers on their back. A volley of iron thorns rain down as Masters swiftly joins him behind the bar.
The first volley misses, the second volley breaks into the cabinets behind them and floods the floor with wine and broken glass. Lucario kicks one of these busted cabinets open, plundering for anything useful.
"What kind of people attack explorers like this?" Masters grabs one of the spears on the wall. He holds it up to the flames behind his hat. This is gonna sting. "You think they were here for the gear?"
"Not unless someone told them!" Lucario plunders a bottle of Rawst, and pours its contents out onto his hand. He grits his metallic teeth. "T-The little guys are Pawniard, unless there is another group I don't know of - they are my boss' goons."
"Goons? Is your boss sending baddies after us?"
The iron glowing hot in his hand, Masters peers over the counter for a split second. He aims at the nearest one, throws the Iron Thorn and pins the Pawniard down next to a table. The others reach into quivers then throw in response, turning their cover into even more of a pincushion. The fiery thing is still up there by one of the tables.
"I hope not! She's the organizer, she probably wants the gears!" Lucario throws the empty rawst bottle away, collecting his breath. "We're not giving her anything, understand?"
"I didn't think that for a second, Luc." Masters interjects. "Does she command the pawniard, do they have a Honchkrow of their own?"
There is a considerable pause. Lucario is dead-faced. His ears suddenly twitch, instantly throwing him back into the heat of things.
"There's more coming!" He looks to where he and Masters first came. Metal feet are clattering towards the dining hall "What about-"
"He will be okay. He's a knight, nevermind him!" He repeats himself, slowly. "Who is their boss, Lucario?"
"It's Bisharp! He's a hitman! She's sent her hitman on us, 'M!"
The word sends a chill down Masters' spine. The worst breed of criminal - the one who would do the unthinkable for wealth or their superiors - the kind he was lucky to never have wandered into the eyes of. This Bisharp is truly irredeemable, and unless these explorers apprehended him after this quarrel, he would hunt them down to their last breath. If his servants are here, so is he. Lucario said the flaming thing had a dark aura about them, is that Bisharp?
"It's nothing Team Chaser has never quarreled before." Masters assures himself, biting down on his tongue. "We can get out of here."
"Team Chaser? Now you're inviting me to an exploration team?"
Team Chaser, Exploration Team. The words echo in Masters' mind. Suddenly, a tingling sensation builds in his hand. He feels Lucario's previous touch, and the sensation travels up his arm to his mind where it becomes a painful, ear-splitting scream. Masters grips his head in pain. There is a white flash; his vision becomes black.
Four figures begin to take shape in the darkness of Master's mind, one of whom lugs a sack over their shoulders. The yellow sheen of Blast Seeds peers out of the cloth, and fire lights the tunnel where these forth come. As they pass one arch, one throws the bag to their right and the others toss torches. Masters' body becomes engulfed in a burning pain, shooting him through time back into the here and now.
"'M!" Lucario shakes him by his shoulders. 'M! Are you okay?"
He's fine, he just knows something Lucario does not and he can't waste a single second. He grabs the hand Lucario is shaking him with, then pulls him away from the bar. The archers take notice. A third barrage of thorns grazes Masters while Lucario dodges the three.
As they reach the table Masters kicks it over as more thorns come, sticking themselves into the thin cover. Safe and sound in cover for the split second, Masters looks down the arched hallway to see the four ordained foes. They throw a sack behind the counter, and light it.
The Blast Seeds spark, and a ferocious fireball erupts behind the counter - engulfing everything on the back wall aflame. Shrapnel in the form of glass bottles fly outwards, hitting the steel hides of the nearby Pawniard, posing little more than a slight inconvenience. While they are distracted Masters reaches into his lantern and throws a wayward Infernal Parade overhead. It homes on one of the newcomers while the rest scramble to the cover of the tables, taking up positions near their thorn-throwing comrades. .
"What just happened?" Lucario shouts. "They're setting the whole place on fire!
"The Scream happened." Masters hurriedly explains. "They burned the hallway too. They're trying to corner us back into the safe room! They don't want you to leave here alive!"
"Was the scream because I touched your hand?"
He hears several pawniard approach. Masters sucks in as much air as he can, then spews a smokescreen out on the floor, engulfing him and Lucario in a purple haze. The archers begin throwing blind shots into the smoke. None hit.
"Yes! You'd be roasted if it didn't show me what these goons were doing!" Masters scoops his second, and last ghostly flame, throwing it out into the mist to let it seek these runts out on its own. "I need you to get as many as you can, we need to thin them out if we're gonna get out of here!"
Lucario holds out a hand as a glowing, bone-shaped bludgeon appears in it. Bone rush, of course. What Lucario does not know about bone rush?
"Free rain to grease them for good?"
What did he mean by that? Masters prepares to run from the fog as he clacks his fist together. Lightning forms between his fingertips.
"Just move already!" Masters growls.
His partner bolts off into the fog towards the newcomers, leaving Masters to deal with the archers up by the dining tables. Lucario, being faster than the draw than he is, gets their attention as he emerges first.
He hears a crunch through the fog, followed by the howl of a Lucario smashing the steel-types to bits with a super-effective bat. Masters climbs over overturned chairs, emerging through the fog as the throwers are just already reaching into their quivers. He sees two. Masters goes for the paniward closest to him and kicks the table out from under it.
It falls straight onto its back. He delivers a brutal Thunder Punch to the face under its rotund helm. The one next to it turns his way, thorn in hand.
Masters grabs the nearest thing which so happens to be the poor little pawniard and blocks the incoming spear with its body. He drops it, rushing the second archer who meets a similar, lightning-infused fate. His fists throw them over the dining area, sending them to the pile of their unconscious comrades by Lucario's feet. Masters glances at his partner.
Lucario is covered with cuts and scrapes - nothing as bad as what the door did to him. With a twisted smile he looks his way, only for that grin to turn to horror. Masters follows his eyes to the creature on fire. It rises. Flames surround its shadow, and within its figure is a piercing orange light. Is that…?
"Eight hundred." He speaks, pointing his gauntleted hand towards Lucario. "No longer employed and you're still a coin sink, Rei."
Lucario turns to face him, as does Masters.
"I don't care. It's your fault for coming here." Lucario points a battered club past Masters at Bisharp. "Cut your losses and get on with your life already! If I can, you can."
"I'll move on once you have given me what you stole from Honchkrow." He spits a glob out of his flaming aura. Masters feels his attention turn to him."Are you his friend?"
"Unfortunately for you, yes." Masters answers, putting himself in the way of the figure. "You're Bisharp, aren't you? You're a hitman sent to deal with Lucario, am I correct?"
"That you are." Bisharp's shadow looks his way. Fire follows his metallic steps as he approaches Masters. "I was told by Honchkrow you were his new friend, you and he are equally responsible for losing him the gear. Unlike Lucario however, I am not required to bring you in alive."
Between the fire and smoke, Masters can see the blurry figure of a bipedal pokemon standing with him face to face. His armored body, combined with this aura following his every move, makes hand to hand combat near worthless for anyone who cannot withstand the life-threatening inferno. And deep within the figure is an all too familiar orange. The glow of a time gear dangles around Bisharp's neck.
The fire is because of his gear's ability. Did he light the door aflame too? Theories and thoughts begin racing in his mind, trying to piece together an answer in the face of this wicked criminal.
"Under what authority?" Masters asks.
"My authority. You are in the way.."
There it is: an ultimatum. Masters does not dare move, he watches Lucario from the corner of his eye brandish his gear as his cuts mend and the many pawniard at his feet start rusting with age. Lucario knows where this is going. This is going to end one way, Masters knows too; no sense denying it.
Without wasting a second, Masters goes for Bisharp. He enters the flames as his lightning-infused fists make contact Bisharp's metal skin, sending a shock through their metallic body which he answers back by cutting downwards with Night Slash.
He answers with fists and is swift to regret it. The slash tears straight through his hands, ghostly ichor splashing into Masters' face as pain shoots through his undead body. Masters slithers backwards, his heels on the edge of the dining area. The follow up grazes him nd he topples downwards into the arms of Lucario who catches him in the nick of time.
"Why all the lightning?" Bisharp steps onto the floor, scorching it with his metal boots. "Why aren't you burning me down? I expected more from a fire-type."
Eruption would be bad for everyone. Masters could easily blow this fool to the moon, and in doing so he will burn this exploration society to the ground with his purple flames. A hitman is terrifying enough, a whole legion for explorers chasing them down in revenge would be a living nightmare.
"I know Rei's tricks, I have been with him longer than you have. He needs to see me in order for his Aura Sphere to work. By striking me earlier he has shown he has overcome this weakness, but it is nothing I can't adapt to."
The air is getting hotter. As Bisharp approaches, what was once ablaze on the platform is now perfectly pristine, and the polished dining floor is now turning to cinders.
"I have what it takes to put your friend to rest, you however, are the rogue factor." Bisharp glowers through his fiery veil. "As long as you breathe, my victory is uncertain."
Masters feels the pain fade from his fingers. His wounds close, and the peons lying around him rust into gnarl statues. Lucario may not have the magic touch of Whiskey or Celebi, but his gear is keeping them in this. He can take at least one of Bisharp's Night Slashes, If two connect he will be seriously rolling the dice of fate.
"Let me get him." Lucario whispers, watching Bisharp loom.
"Don't you dare even try." The Typhlosion stutters out. "He has a gear, I don't know what it does but his burning aura has something to do with it. You'll be turned to ash if you try to exchange blows with him, he wants you to get near."
"Then what do I do 'M?"
"Get a read on him, try to hit him with your Aura Sphere." Masters mutters back. "Even if you accidentally lock onto my Aura, it won't phase me. It's a fighting move, I'm a ghost."
Masters rises up onto his feet with the help of Lucario's arms. He wrestles free of Lucario's hands, stepping towards the walking inferno as his partners look towards the fire behind the bar and the one slowly encroaching from the hall. Their cover is gone, their escape is cut off - he needs to make this work.
"Anyone with cursory knowledge of Aura can smell your awful stench from miles away." Masters speaks, facing the firestorm a paces' distance away. "You are truly wretched, and I have been given the task of exercising from you this world."
"Is it so? Talk all you like." Bisharp hisses. The floor catches flame at Masters; air becomes thick with smoke. He is in his aura. "It does not matter who is right or who is wrong, you won't live to tell this tale."
A Night Slash streaks through the air. Masters sidesteps it, delivering a deft blow to the Bisharp's side. Bisharp retaliates with a kick, and Masters catches it, clasping it inbetween his electrified hands and throwing the man down onto his back. The fire-type grabs the nearest thing - the overturned table they used for cover - wielding it as a crude shield as Masters goes in for a devastating strike.
Bisharp's gauntlet slashes the wooden thing into two, but Masters' fist barrels through the splinters. The gear near Bisharp's shines. a blink away from turning his helmet into a dented mess and Masters' fist stops.
The table's back together, his hands are now melded into it! Amid his shock a Night Slash strikes down Masters, cutting a clean slice through the table down his body. A kick sends his carcass tumbling across the floor, crashing and crumbling into the burning bar.
On queue, Lucario lets an Aura Sphere loose. It hits Bisharp spot on, then simply shatters into sparks of nothingness as a Protect barrier disperses the fatal attack. Lucario panics, scrambling towards Masters as Bisharp's flames loom.
"M! You-"
Lucario shakes him. Within moments, Masters takes in a painful breath, and billows out Smokescreen.
The cover makes him feel safe enough to think. These next few moments are going to be crucial. They are backed into a corner worse than if they stayed inside the musuem. Masters does not dare to look at his wounds as he looks Lucario in his eyes.
"I keep making the same mistake." Masters gurgles. "I can't go to blows with this man, you're going to have to think of something, Luc."
Lucario hoists Masters up onto his legs. He hurls a wave of Dark Pulse towards the encroaching inferno only for it to be engulfed by the two different colored smokes, vanishing. Masters can hear Lucario breathing like mad. His fur is damp with cold sweat.
"The Vault." Masters coughs, looking past behind himself to the open door. "Get into the vault! It won't be hot in there!"
Bisharp hears them. A brutal fighting-type chop phases through Masters' body; missing Lucario by inches but splitting the bar into two. Masters spots something blue splitting out, bipedal and unconscious. Is that Glenn? What is he doing trapped inside of a bar? Was he hiding?
Masters is thrown into the vault, landing on the floor like a sack of berries. His partner pulls down the lever, seemingly no longer red hot, and forces the vault door shut. He darts over to the half-conscious masters, digging through his things immediately.
"Grave robbing already?" Masters musters up a chuckle.
"I'm not interested in you haunting me in your un-un-un-life." He feels Lucario jostle one of his pouches. "Where is your Colbur Berry?"
"Celebi didn't have any growing up there, she's too much of a sweet tooth. I used my last berry to test the door, I have nothing on me."
Lucario groans, extending a hand once more. Masters takes it, standing back up as a familiar feeling dwells on his skin. He is too exhausted to pay it heed. All his thoughts are concentrated on getting them out, the massive metal in the way of Bisharp has bought him a precious minute to think.
"He already has a fire started in the bar." Masters heaves, speaking at the same slow pace as his breath. "I'm the ghost, you're not. If he lets that fire go you'll either stop breathing or burn - whatever first."
"What about what Glenn said?"
"Just because this place survived doesn't mean the pokemon hiding here didn't join the ashes." Masters struggles to find the best way to keep the conversation away from the doom of this situation. "His gear has something to do with what took place here, but I don't think his ability has anything to do with fire."
"Well then! I should just go punch up and punch him!"
"What? No! Listen, Luc!" Masters cuts him off. "Bisharp has some sort of bubble around him, a bubble I suspect distorts time in some way. His fire is not some shield he has, it's like a projection. Everything within distance of his field is brought back to a certain time - to when this place was burning down!"
Lucario glances his way, then at the giant door.
"Is that why we weren't burning in here? So it can't spread?"
"Exactly!" Masters confirms. "I didn't become a quilava when fighting him, so I think it only affects things. Like Louisa. He's turning every object around him to when it was aflame, it's why this vault is safe from his ability! Why else would he light a real fire? Because he can't smoke us out on his own."
"If he's lit the fire then he knows more about his gear than Honch did." Lucario reaches for the gear hidden around his neck. "I'll bet Honchkrow told him what mine does too, damn!"
It has to be only objects. He turned back the time on the door to close it; turned back the time on the broken table to trap his hands; broke apart the bar to hide Glenn inside of it. Bisharp is turning back the clock on these things while theirs runs short.
They hear a click. The door is being opened. Glenn had a key.
"I'll try to get him in and you use Eruption on him!" Lucario snarls, brandishing a glowing bone club. "If I can't, then blow up this whole place! I don't care!"
Masters is not given a chance to bicker as pain returns to where Lucario held him. It shoots right into his mind, stunning him with its ear-splitting scream. It's worse than last time. Masters holds by a thread as an image flashes across his eyes.
It is him standing in the way of the door, a decisive Night Slash cleaving into his shoulder through his body. Masters is doomed.
Dark smoke and the glistening remains of smokescreen ooze through the expanding entryway. Lucario readies his club. He told Masters what to do. He expects Masters to follow through.
Masters books for the door. The smoke billows inwards. Lucario's body is engulfed by tendrils of smoke as Masters reaches Lucario, wraps his arms around him, and vanishes.
A cold metal hand cuts through the shroud, carving right into its preordained target with wicked energy. It sears into Lucario's flesh and grazes the ghost-type hiding underneath his skin. Just as the Dimensional Scream told, Night Slash met its mark.
For a brief second, Masters can see through Lucario's eyes. A figure tall, gaunt, with armor consisting of natural blades. The small, beady eyes under his helmet are as wide as they could be. When Lucario delivers a swing of his club, the steel-type protects against it - cancelling each other out. In doing so, Bisharp seals his own fate. He is left defenseless.
"There is a law every explorer abides by, we bring back our criminals safe and sound." Masters' body oozes through the wound on Lucario's shoulder. "For scum like you? I always make an exception!"
Lucario pulls Masters' hat off as he bows. His head of flame explodes into a shower of purple fireballs, chunks of molten earth spewing out from the cracks in his undead skin. Fiery hailstones tear holes through the dining hall and send the Bisharp careening. The scorching figure lands with the corpses of his cronies, alight with both the fire from a time long past and a ghost's wrath.
The hurrah took everything from Masters, and he is left a shambling wreckage which Lucario easily lifts onto his shoulder. He sprints through the dining hall, ignoring the molten mass which was once a Bisharp.
"His Gear…" Masters says weakly.
"-Can wait."
The last thing he sees is Lucario grabbing onto a rope by the window. Something pulls on the other side, and they are whisked from the burning keep.