“Mhm, Travel back towards Byerlfal on Route 1. About a third of the way there, you’ll see a tree with some talismans hung on it. Go south from that tree and you should soon find a small, overgrown path. That should take you to it. Wild pokemon are a bit more prevalent in that area though, so be careful if you do go.”
Back towards Byerlfal…third of the way…tree with talismans, turn south…small, overgrown path…Isla tried to mentally imagine the route, especially when it was one she had taken up to Pines End. She couldn’t recall any such tree with talismans when she’d gone one way…maybe they were hung a certain way or Isla had just not noticed the tree as she’d walked along. Of course, as she was busy with contemplating the route, taking out her Pokédex with one hand to draw out a little map with a general approximation of a third back, the priestess and her Pokémon had been busy talking. The young girl caught only portions of it and the end.
“Hatty wants us to go with you if you go to the shrine.”
Isla blinked, almost owl-like in the proposition. She wasn’t completely against it, though…last she could recall, that type was especially sensitive to emotions. It might make things somewhat more uncomfortable for the little guy, considering what Yasu had said about wild Pokémon being more prevalent. She couldn’t say for certain, but imagined that they might become a bit more aggressive as one ventured further into the forest, into what was their domain.
The garb of a gravekeep was not so different from the garb of any other peasant of the soil, he supposed. A too big rat-quilt tunic, patched over and over again in colors faded from age and darkened from road-dirt, trousers of the same sort of wear, shoes worn-down from the hard road, and a rope belt whose loose strands had become a halo of wispy barbs about his middle, that was all the man wore and all he had kept in his walk. The cloak he had taken from an abandoned cart had fallen apart on the walk, the straw hat he had found off a scarecrow in a black-soiled field had likewise been stolen as a halfway joke. Better it than the boots. The five who trailed behind in a loose gaggle were no worse clothed than he, better in fact as some had spent less time on the road. A dust cloud rose in the distance, riders from the city.
What could but give him away as an oddity to the vast world was a shovel, for any self-respecting farmer would carry a hoe if not have any cart for his work, a tome wrapped in thick clothes from the rain at his waist, for few peasants would deign themselves to lose precious time in the effort of learning to read nor have the coin to procure such a service for leisure, and that he was walking the opposite way any farmer might walk, save to sell their crops in the markets. He had gained a few odd looks here and there whenever the topic had arisen on the walk. They hadn’t believed him for some, others thought he was mad, others still had gotten curious. The gravekeeper supposed he knew exactly who those last few were, for they still trode behind him in the morning sun, the stink of sweat drowned by the dust in the air.
The ground wasn't ground up ahead, turning from smooth fields into the jagged landscape of a shantytown. The city at the end of the world, the center of the world, was no new city to be sure. He had never been there before. Clouds of brown obscured those groups of travelers ahead, as well as the parts of the sprawl itself, though he could hear one of those behind him mutter a thankful prayer through cracked lips. The pilgrimage is over, the man said, with work to be done at last. He snorted at the exultation, though he heard more from travelers further ahead. There was work yet to be done. Hands gripped the shovel and fingers brushed the ledger. Yes, there was work indeed.
They neared it, dust-stained details coming into clarity with each handful of steps. Shacks, cluttered streets, the stink of humanity imbued into the very essence of the air, and a chaos to which the gravekeeper had never exactly been subjected to, that was all there was and more. Dirt kicked into the air until it was all you needed, a hustle from one place to another, and so many souls that he couldn’t tell precisely who was close to their end and who was not. Of course, it was quite likely that far too many nearby would be dead by the day’s end, cut far short from their usual destination.
He stepped off to one side of the road, the others close behind in a cluster as they too were wary of the whole issue. The gravekeeper took a deep breath, steeling himself among all the noise and chaos. They’d need some things to make themselves at home in the new city, things that would be best found further on to the center…the places closest to the Abyss, where the dead were likely more wanting of his services. One of them spoke up, a younger voice ran raw by the road-dirt.
Human | 32 | Male | 6’1” | 140 lbs 0th Circle | Death
Born to a small family in a small village, poor as the lords demanded them to be for their taxes, Lethe would go out into the world before he ever plied the family trade. A hunter, a forager, and sometimes even a shepherd when the wolves grew hungry, it was a miracle the boy was not so shunned at such a young age, one born from hardship and a lack of hands. In time, though, Lethe would take up that family trade in that family place, helping his father dig graves for those who had passed on. It was by no means a good life, for the others soon looked sour whenever their gaze fell on the young man, nor was it particularly happy, but it was by all means an honest living.
In time, Lethe found bits and pieces to be lost, forgotten. Men couldn't remember when the old man on the hill had lost his remaining family member, or his name, and families seldom remembered the names of the stillborn after the wife, and gravestones weathered away into plain monoliths for none to mourn. Young as he was, Lethe took on the task with fortitude, working first alongside a priest of a church not far from the village before eventually marking down the names himself. It was hard work, but Lethe's ledger grew with every funeral, a task mandated by none yet quietly appreciated by all. In time, he would mark down his father's name too, before some days later his mother also passed. The newfound gravekeeper took the loss by not taking it at all, setting down to his work.
Then the ebbs and flows of monsters, a fact of the shattered world since the death of the Thousand-Faced God, would come for them. The village, small as it was, soon fled to a walled city for fear of being overrun and Lethe, though he abandoned his graveyard, took with him that ledger and so all those names. The fleeing soon became a motif as they began the inevitable trek to another city. The world was still yet mad with divine fools and Lethe, placid as he could try to be, dug graves wherever there was a yard, noted names whenever they were to be had. It was sparse as information went yet, even so, eventually grew to be a comfort to those other suffering souls. Eventually, at a graveyard long since abandoned, in a crypt opened and forgotten by the horrors of monsters slain elsewhere, Lethe found a coal-black tome of the journey of the dead, of the realms long thereafter. The tome crumbled to dust with a touch as that Spark lept from it to him, and in that moment the gravekeeper became Ichor-Blessed.
Lethe was, for a time, lost with this newfound power. He hemmed and hawed, took his time about the whole of the issue, before eventually finding what path would be best to take as the compulsion grasped against him. Lethe set off for the city at the Abyss, to the center of the issues and the great hundreds of yearning dead who needed his aid. As he traveled, Lethe has convinced a handful of pious souls to lend themselves to his cause, to dig graves, to learn their letters, to remember.
Domain of the Last Sleep - Followers of the Scribe better sense when another is drawing near to the end of their natural, mortal coil and are gently motivated to record the mortal life of that person, whether it be by their own hand, the hand of a learned priest, or by oral stories.
Starting Benefit
Band of Brothers - 5 Followers. Those you met on the way were moved or manipulated by you to joining your cause.
@Thayr This is an anime RP, so I'm expecting an anime-style character image.
For reference, the Thousand-Faced God was struck down some two hundred years ago. You'll likely have to revamp the backstory a bunch to account for that. Feels like there's a big amount of overlap between the Domain of Death and the Domain of Preservation, but eh, we'll see where that goes.
Ahhhhhh I uhhhhh dunno how I missed that portion. I will work on fixing that bit. Is the need for an anime style image a hard requirement? I notice some don't. As for Death vs Preservation, it seemed like the latter was concerned with physically keeping the body whereas the former is the "The memory keeps the spirit alive" deal.
Human | 32 | Male | 6’1” | 140 lbs 0th Circle | Death
Born to a small family in a small village, poor as the lords demanded them to be for their taxes, Lethe would go out into the world before he ever plied the family trade. A hunter, a forager, and sometimes even a shepherd when the wolves grew hungry, it was a miracle the boy was not so shunned at such a young age, one born from hardship and a lack of hands. In time, though, Lethe would take up that family trade in that family place, helping his father dig graves for those who had passed on. It was by no means a good life, for the others soon looked sour whenever their gaze fell on the young man, nor was it particularly happy, but it was by all means an honest living.
In time, Lethe found bits and pieces to be lost, forgotten. Men couldn't remember when the old man on the hill had lost his remaining family member, or his name, and families seldom remembered the names of the stillborn after the wife, and gravestones weathered away into plain monoliths for none to mourn. Young as he was, Lethe took on the task with fortitude, working first alongside a priest of a church not far from the village before eventually marking down the names himself. It was hard work, but Lethe's ledger grew with every funeral, a task mandated by none yet quietly appreciated by all. In time, he would mark down his father's name too, before some days later his mother also passed. The newfound gravekeeper took the loss by not taking it at all, setting down to his work.
Then the ebbs and flows of monsters, a fact of the shattered world since the death of the Thousand-Faced God, would come for them. The village, small as it was, soon fled to a walled city for fear of being overrun and Lethe, though he abandoned his graveyard, took with him that ledger and so all those names. The fleeing soon became a motif as they began the inevitable trek to another city. The world was still yet mad with divine fools and Lethe, placid as he could try to be, dug graves wherever there was a yard, noted names whenever they were to be had. It was sparse as information went yet, even so, eventually grew to be a comfort to those other suffering souls. Eventually, at a graveyard long since abandoned, in a crypt opened and forgotten by the horrors of monsters slain elsewhere, Lethe found a coal-black tome of the journey of the dead, of the realms long thereafter. The tome crumbled to dust with a touch as that Spark lept from it to him, and in that moment the gravekeeper became Ichor-Blessed.
Lethe was, for a time, lost with this newfound power. He hemmed and hawed, took his time about the whole of the issue, before eventually finding what path would be best to take as the compulsion grasped against him. Lethe set off for the city at the Abyss, to the center of the issues and the great hundreds of yearning dead who needed his aid. As he traveled, Lethe has convinced a handful of pious souls to lend themselves to his cause, to dig graves, to learn their letters, to remember.
Domain of the Last Sleep - Followers of the Scribe better sense when another is drawing near to the end of their natural, mortal coil and are gently motivated to record the mortal life of that person, whether it be by their own hand, the hand of a learned priest, or by oral stories.
Starting Benefit
Band of Brothers - 5 Followers. Those you met on the way were moved or manipulated by you to joining your cause.
“I am well aware of what Celebi is and what Celebi does. And what, you want to damage the forest or cause something to happen? Did I hear you right? Yeah, no thanks, I’m not looking for extreme options.”
Isla's heart dropped just a ways at hearing how the priestess took what she said and twisted it about into something clearly a bit more severe than what she had intended. Clearly Yasu was the sort of half-glass-empty lady as she took the question to mean Isla wanted to cause damage or an issue in the forest. She hadn't meant that at all; Celebi, the forest protector, protected forests. The Pokémon might be busy elsewhere, or hurt because the forest was hurt, or was say…resting and cocooned in the deepest part of the forest after performing such an action. Despite that, though, the young girl took a deep breath. Clearly Yasu wanted to say more than just that.
“The only thing I can possibly say is aside from the shrine here…There is another shrine deeper in the forest. It's not hard to get to, but it's off any known trails.”
“Could start there if you wanted to, I guess. Might be some books or other material here too…there's a room over there that has some records, I think. Otherwise, leave. Hatty and I don't really care much for guests.”
Clearly she really wasn't the happiest sort of person. Isla shivered a tiny bit at the internal question of whether or not priestesses were all like her or if some were a bit more normal. Surely there wasn't just a priestess factory that turned people into just bitterness. Surely. She scratched Swiper just along the scruff of the neck in an almost absentminded way, a calming way.
“The shrine. That sounds like the best bet. Where exactly is it?”
“Hmph. Well, you’re nothing if not informed. Yes. Celebi, though not from Johto. Well, maybe it's the same one, but I doubt it.”
“You are correct. This temple was dedicated to it ages ago. Supposedly, it protects this forest…And this town. This town is probably one of the most rural places in Eidda. A lotta the folks here don't care much for the hustle and bustle of city life but..."
"Which brings me to my question. If you’re that smart and work for the Professor, then you must have some idea on how to go about finding this mythical pokemon.”
“Finding a mythical Pokémon is…” Isla bit her lip for a moment. The very proposition of it was so strangely outlandish that she wasn’t entirely sure if any of it could really be based on fact. Actual accounts of mythical Pokémon of any sort were so few and far between that she wasn’t sure there could be any facts to be found. The majority of accounts were…from shrines…
The young girl took a deep breath with it all. They didn’t have any account of how to find the mythical Celebi to whom the temple was, supposedly, built towards or the account to find Celebi did not actually work properly and well, that Pokémon was just…not there. One or the other, and she wasn’t sure which was worse. Surely you couldn’t just un-dedicate a temple to a mythical Pokémon…could you? Those sorts of actions would have summoned Celebi, or given some sort of warning. They were so close to where the Pokémon should be strongest, their protected forest, and yet…then again, forests had been destroyed before, for timber or mining or some other reason. She’d seen the whys and hows and pictures before. Celebi hadn’t protected those. What was going on?
“You want to find Celebi. I…honestly couldn’t say a…mechanical way or method or-or system to just…find Celebi. The only methods I’ve heard of are from temples. Do you…or did yours not…?”
She didn’t want to say the words out loud. Saying that someone who should know something and didn’t, or that something they believed in didn’t work, in such a setting just somehow seemed…wrong. Stars! Isla felt as nervous as could be with the sudden pressure to know something about finding or discovering the actual…location of a mythical Pokémon. She took another deep breath about it all. What could it be, what could it be…She could feel Swiper almost trying to dig himself further against her, nuzzle up into her belly. The distraction helped. She breathed deep again. Ideas sprang forth, straws to grasp at. Where could Celebi be hurt, where could Celebi spring forth from, where could Celebi affect the most…those three, maybe.
“Is there something…that could maybe be damaging the forest? Or some sort of…source, maybe? The densest part?”
"Oh! Umm, Isla, was it? I'm surprised anyone came out this way toward Pine's End. Is your Eevee doing well?"
Isla smiled, looking up sideways at the so-proclaimed Eevee. He was awake, now, blinking with his face half-hidden amid the great fluffy collar as the ears had perked-up to listen to the great wide wonders that was Pines End. The little black nose peeked-out amid the wispy fur, sniffing away, just made her melt for a moment. One hand reached up to pet Dancing, the Eevee moving his head out among the collar and nuzzling into her hand. “Yeah he’s ah…he’s doing good.”
"Oh! Sorry Isla, one minute. So, yes, apologies. When will you reopen? I have a scientific curiosity... Not to mention a personal one at that."
She paused, looking-over the…employee, Isla had thought previously. That seemed to be right enough, anyways, considering that Camila was so eager to get information from her and that the lady, apparently, had enough control over the shrine to say whether or not it was open. That or she was…just an employee. Wasn’t there a schedule somewhere or another that said when such places were or weren’t open? Isla sucked on her tooth at the thought as she pet Dancing some more, Swiper prancing back and forth about her legs in figures-of-eight.
“...Never- You work for Professor Camphor…? Well…look, the temple isn’t open because I say it's not. But if you’re with the professor, then…you know a lot about pokemon right?”
“Alright, you can come in, but don’t touch anything…and try not to uhm, be too excitable…For starters, my name is Yasu. I’m…well, the priestess here I guess, if you want to call it that, though most days I just clean and make sure the shrine is well taken care of…”
She followed Camila and the priestess -ha, that first impression had been right- into the shrine, stooping briefly to scoop up Swiper in her hands to bodily carry the little fox in her cradled arms. He went limp immediately at the motion, staring upwards at the ceiling as though contemplating whether or not the sheer accostment was acceptable. After a few moments, the Nickit whined-out a, “Niiii,” shifting his head left and right to get a better look about. Isla breathed-out a sigh, and tried to keep things respectful for the sake of the shrine. At least, that’s what she thought the priestess, Yasu, had meant by not being too excitable.
The building itself was beautiful, bits and pieces of how it was arranged, the detailing on parts here and there, reminding her of pictures she’d seen about other such locations in Kanto or Johto. Parts of the style weren’t familiar, though, possibly being more Eidda in origin if Isla were to take a guess. It all looked remarkably well taken care of, maintained as much as could be expected from the fact that it looked ancient, yet did have a priestess…a brief thought rose in Isla’s mind. How did such priestesses come into the job? There couldn’t be an order, or something, seeing as how…well, there was no one there and Yasu wasn’t wearing some traditional clothing or another. Isla had an image of priestesses always being in the traditional clothing. Did priestesses wear normal clothing? She wasn’t really sure. She also was certain such a question wasn’t something that bore asking while in the shrine itself.
Isla looked over the carvings about the door, though…they were beautiful, complex. It was clearly something connected to the forest, with depictions of Pokémon as they had existed in the far, far past there. Of course, the shrine would be connected to the forest - where else would it be connected to, built where it was? She suppressed the urge to scoff at the dumb question. Yasu said they were to not be too excitable.
“Right…Hatty?”
“Teeeen?”
Isla turned slowly, considering that she was cradling one fox with another guy lounged about her shoulder. What she saw, though, would make her pause again. She didn’t exactly know the Pokémon, but whatever he or she was didn’t seem entirely comfortable with the presence of two new people. Maybe that’s what she’d meant before, about not being too excitable. Was he or she just nervous about people? Could this Pokémon sense excitability? Was that a thing for it?
She tried to not be excitable, but of course that would just…make Isla nervous about not being excitable. Was being nervous excitable?No, no, no. That was just a cycle of stuff here and there and again. The young girl closed her eyes, breathing deeply as Swiper pawed briefly at her hands. After a few brief breaths, she felt…better, maybe? Better to just not think about it. Amid the whole ordeal Isla had missed the brief exchange between Yasu and her Pokémon. It was fine, though, fine since she was now talking to Camila and Isla.
“So, if you really are interested in the shrine and not just here to gawk like some tourist, then you can visit. As for what I want help with…I’m looking for information on a pokemon that you might know about or have seen. It’s a small pokemon, small body, green in color. Two antennas. I realize that is not the best description but it's all I really have to go on.”
A…small Pokémon, green, with two antennas…Isla stared, thinking for a moment about it. What Pokémon was there that would warrant worship or notability near a shrine connected to a forest, ancient as it was. Surely it had to be one that wasn’t from Eidda…they knew all about their own myths and legends, Pokémon of long-past, and wouldn’t ask some strangers about one. It must be another, from another region…one that could travel the distances. What Pokémon like that were connected to forests…Shaymin, from Sinnoh? That wouldn’t be, though…Shaymin had no antennas. What else was connected to forests…Suicune? Not green, not small, no antennas. It didn’t match any of Sinnoh’s lake guardians, either, small as they were…what else, what else…
Johto and Kanto. Narrow things down to the styles she could see in the building. Kanto didn’t have anything of the sort, maybe…Isla could smack herself at being stupid about it. She’d forgotten about…Cele…what was the name. Celebe? Celebi. Celery was how she remembered it. It fit everything, was connected to…oh heck, which forest was Celebi connected to…Santalune? No, that was Kalos. Ilex, that was it.
1 x Ruger Mk II, Suppressed 1 x KS-23 1 x ST54 SCBA 1 x Ballistic Suit, Standard 2 x PARM 2 (DM22) Anti-Tank Mine 1 x Phosgene Gas Canister, Homemade 3 x Phosgene Gas Grenades, Homemade 3 x Thermite Charges, Homemade
General Plan:
Phase 1: Ambush Convoy Movement Utilizing PARM 2 (DM22) off-route anti-tank mines on a manual setting, destroy lead and trailing escort vehicles. 635 will engage any remaining escorting vehicles with RPG while 636 remains in an overwatch position. All others will engage remaining convoy personnel with small arms. Once ambush is complete, convoy vehicles to be moved off the road by 644 and stand by for further instructions.
Phase 2: Breach & Clear Compound Approach to compound will be on foot in SCBA, with 636 engaging targets on the wall facing the approach as necessary. Scaling the wall, locate air intake systems and plant Phosgene gas canister, setting to disperse in the building via AC. Stand by for 10 minutes until gas has sufficiently dispersed, then begin to scale the building to the roof. Locate nearest air intake systems, set Phosgene gas grenades as needed. Stand by for five minutes. Open SCBA valves, locate nearest roof access if a door or hatch is possible, apply thermite charges. If not possible, create roof access with thermite charge. At this point, 636 clear to engage all visible targets. Clear 3rd floor of all occupants, locate warlord for identification. Clear all floors down the structure and into the basement. Signal for convoy to move in for equipment extraction.
Arrangement:
Set up of PARM 2 (DM22) off-route anti-tank mines for convoy ambush
Member
TokyoPewPew
op2024
AWildSquirtle
The Otter
BurningCold
Danyel
Neziul
NoriWasHere
Mixtape Ghost N