¤Game¤ Dragon Tamers Battle Range v.23 {MA Pidgeot}

[Crystalmaster Mike]

Well, there's this story I've been yearning to tell, and now's the time, I think.

I've been compiling this for quite a while, but it's been in my head longer.

Setting: Having heard her team member Dylan pour his heart out, Nora feels it's time to tell her story, too.

Background: Over time, we've come to know Nora as a caring person, that's been unofficially instated as the "mother" of the group. With a heart bigger than her body can hold, she has nonetheless been troubled by an event in her past. Because of this, she seems plagued by unprovoked fear and dislike of Bruce, the Machop in the team, and of Fighting Pokémon in general.
Her adoption had been worth remembering on its own (a sign-up list had been required to even stand a chance at adopting her), but her backstory had always been concealed. Until now.

Fun fact #1: This story was written using BBed. It's a good help at previewing your post, and it takes away some of that required C+P work you otherwise have at writing a story with lots of BB-code formatting.

Fun fact #2: I think this story can stand on its own, as there's little foreknowledge required, so I'm playing with the idea of posting it at FanFic, to get some advice and critique about my writing style. I'm not a fan of trying to reread or rewrite what I've written, as the story "is my baby", and the first time I write it, I've been trying to pour into it the mental image I've created in my mind of the events, so any changes seem to attack at that image.

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~ Nora's POV ~

Part 1: Life, Interrupted

I may not look like it, but I stem from an Aron tribe in Latin America.

The open fields, the crammed crevices... Our species is found nearly anywhere. But the place we're probably least expected to show up is in the damp, boiling bowls of the rain forest. Yet, many a native was found in a dirty excuse for a bar, telling stories in exchange for shots of pure liquor, of the bulky, armored figures he or she had been able to distinguish behind the steamy clouds covering the river banks... Never did these stories failed to end in mocking laughter of the "pale-skins", as they knew well enough that Rock Pokémon hated water, and that Steel Pokémon, though neutral towards the substance, certainly would favor clean, gently flowing currents above the muddy yet fast-forwarding rivers that formed the naturally irrigation system of the green lungs of Terra.

And still... there we were. A kind, introvert tribe of herbivores, staying inert in both heat and steam. The story went, our forefathers had fled from the firey mountain that dominated our peaceful valley. The volcano had become home to a flock of Combusken, and their combined forces had proven to get the better of even our own leader.

Ah, our leader... It's true I claim to be of an Aron tribe, but... We were more than that. Like almost every Pokémon on the planet, some of our kinsmen evolved in time, into the Pokémon that was almost thrice the weight, height and length of an Aron. And the Lairon were the only one of us that were allowed to breed (to be allowed to mate was a whole other thing entirely, more a question of maturity than anything else).
And though stronger, they past most of their time relaxing even more than the rest of us.
But not Alabaster. Bas was different. He had naturally become our leader when we migrated to the valley. Our first night in our new environment, and we already fell under siege of a new enemy... As the air was dampier and filled with gas clouds near the river, it had been our first choice of a new territory. But making that decision, we had stepped into the area controlled by the Frogs. Poliwag and Croagunk were natural enemies, but at the sight of us, they allied, and their leaders Poliwrath and Toxicroak knew how to make our lives miserable. Though we didn't fear the Poison Frog's poison, their martial arts packed quite a punch for us, and the Poli's only had to sprinkle them, sort of speech, to get them back into battling shape after we thought we had finished them of.
Alabaster was one of the Lairon protecting us that night... He was the only one daring to attack Toxicroak, and he almost paid the dearest price for it. Even now, though hidden under his large armour, he carried a gruesome scar as a living memory of that event.
Lingering on the brink of eternal defeat however, he found the strength to surpass his own limits... and evolved. The mighty roar of Aggron frightened a couple of Skarmory. They left their nests in the trees, never to return.
In an awesome display of power, Alabaster KOed half of the Croagunks with his Earthquake. The Poliwags and Poliwhirl had wisely chosen for a tactical retreat moments before.

It was so that we could live in peace in the jungle... Until one day...
Alabaster was gone for the week. Every year, he took a week off from leader duty. Not to slack off, but to meditate, and meet with the Elders in an open clearing, deep in the heart of the forest. Together with Parasect and Pidgeot, and a dozen other pack leaders, he discussed the situation in the forest. There were no hostile disputes allowed at this meeting, though it was apparent Blaziken and Poliwrath were less than happy to have Alabaster around, and as such had ignored to show up the previous year.
In Alabaster's absence, it was life as usual in the group, as there was an unspoken truce for the whole duration of the meeting. That year, however, this truce was broken.
I can only think of one thing that might have stopped Bas from returning from the meeting at the designated hour. An ambush. Fact was, he was three hours too late, the sun was already rising, and the elder Lairon were becoming nervous in the knowledge they were pretty much defenseless without the large Aggron around. True, he was often down-talked for his bulked appearance and no-nonsense decision-making, but in times of need, his attack power outweighed any jealous streaks on the part of the Lairon. It was simply a matter of survival.

I remember my mother, the caretaker for the younger children, coming in my direction. My friends and I had been feeling the anxiousness of the grown-ups, and we had become restless ourselves. I think Mom wanted to sooth us, maybe take us inside one of the large hollow trees we used for shelter and sleep, to play a game with us to pass time until we heard the cheers and roars accompanying Bas' return. It would never come to that.
A light got reflected off the thick armor covering her head. Nothing to get alarmed by... except, it didn't shine down from above, and it was bright red, like the light of the sun setting. I was too slow to turn my head, otherwise I might've seen the assailant... But the options for his identity were limited anyway. The ball of fire struck a tree in my mother's path. Its trunk erupted in flames and broke, separating her from the children.

The last look I got from my mother was one of fear. Fear for me, not herself. The look in her eyes then shifted, and I could tell that she was ordering me to go hide and stay hidden, for a whole month if I had to. She would be able to track me down: her mother instincts and well-developed nose would lead her to me. I understood, and finally turned to follow the rest of my friends, who hadn't bothered to look back at my mother, who was only a nurse to them. I was already alone, and I scurried away into the undergrowth.


Part 2: Two Sides Of The Same Coin

Cries of terror and terrorizing were following me from the way I came, and I hurried to outrun them. In my crazed dash, I momentarily lost every sense of direction, and by the time I came to, it was too late. I had already left our forced habitat, and now I was on unknown grounds.
You have to be a Pokémon to understand. Like some people blindly know their way through a darkened room in their house, a Pokémon crosses his territory, subconsciously avoiding pitfalls and trip traps. Take the Pokémon from its territory, and it will bump into threes, jump at the sound of the wind rustling in the bushes, and run around shadows. I should know, that was exactly how I was at that moment.
I didn't stop to catch my breath, as I could hear the Combusken that were my chasers catch up to me, having both the advantage in type and shape. I was straining my stubby legs, and for the first time I cursed the armour that had shielded me from lesser evil before.
As I came to realize I had to stop and hide or else I would become as good as a sitting duck, Faith turned the tables on me. Hidden on the small trail I was following, which had been dug out in the jungle soil by countless feet before mine, a small rope was spanning the width of the path, approximately at ankle height for a Lairon. I ran into it head first, was sent tumbling through the air from the momentum, before getting caught in the net I had triggered to appear out of the mud. It wrapped around me, and as it yanked up a feet or five into the air, it thoroughly shook me whole.
Dazzled, I nearly hadn't the time to notice the Combusken had caught up to me.

Rather than stop, they continued their hurried chase, uttering excited cries and chirps that informed me they hadn't seen me in the net, dangling from the rope. Though the fact I was no longer chased was soothing, I was still worked up about the fact I had been caught in the contraption.
Mind you, I had never seen a human, nor heard more than folklore about them. Too me, they appeared as some sort of evolved Primeape. Heh, and I can bet even some tamed Pokémon never stop thinking about them that way.

Fact was, my opinion on humans was going to worsen before it improved. I was caught by poachers, and they were less than careful with their "winnings".
It was night before they came to inspect the trap, and I was already cold and hungry. Thoughts of home and my family had kept me from catching sleep, and the position I was in did nothing to help.
A dim roar announced the arrival of my "hosts". Four large eyes, shooting beams of light through the darkness, was all I saw of them at first. Then they took the key out of the ignition, and the hungry beast was silenced. Two loud pangs (the doors shutting), and for a while, that was all I heard from them.
Suddenly, a sharp voice began to talk. Annoyingly nasal, it spoke disapproving of something - probably me, tiny as I was. A calm tenor responded, and I felt thick, greasy fingers feeling me out. Eventually, they seemed to agree I was worth their while, and they cut me down... to catch me in an iron cage. They stayed deaf to my soft pleas, but I hadn't expect anything else - we didn't speak the other's language, after all.
They put me in the belly of their noisy vehicle - gently, I'll give them that - before getting seated in the front. Two loud pangs, the beast roaring into motion, and off we went. The little I was from the outside already seemed alien to me: it was unknown territory, and I wasn't used to seeing my surroundings flash by me like that. I admit I got a little nauseous, but the trip was short enough.
Their base camp was made on the bank of a small stream. Grunts, growls and cries informed me I wasn't the first guest (or inmate). I got dumped next to a cage containing three Oddish, which were sleeping, even when it was already night-time and thus high hour for these nocturnal Pokémon.
I soon learned everyone's biorhythm was disturbed: you ate when the men ate, you slept when they slept. They kept us well fed and out of harms way, but that was the end of it. We were mere merchandise, ready for shipment anytime.

The fourth night in, and I was already coming to terms with the fact I would never see home again. Unexpectedly, the rest in the camp was disturbed. Laurel and Hardy (I named them afterwards) exited their tent in their sleeping clothes, rubbing their eyes, peeking in every direction, pointing guns and knifes upwards. A roar tore through the jungle's normal sounds, and it wasn't the jeep of the poachers. Then, a second roar joined in, then a third, and soon a quire of sirens and motor sounds was singing. The camp got surrounded, beams of light dissolved the last shadow, and the duo found nothing better than to stand in the middle of the camp, in front of their large tent, with their arms in the air.
Voices barked instructions through speaker phones, and I saw a whole bunch of legs passing through the camp. Cages were opened, Pokémon released into the wild, and others taken in for nurturing. The Dragon Tamers' Guild had arrived.
I watched the trio of Oddishes get set free, after getting sprayed by a potion of some kind, which seemed to restore their health. Then it was my turn, as one of the last ones. As the ceiling was removed from my cage, a familiar sound of appreciation reached my ears. I got prodded all round, covered in healing potions and what not. My hunger and thirst got stilled as I was given a full plate of juicy Sitrus and tasty Oran Berries. A small flame of hope flared up inside me again... I almost didn't dare to think about going home.

Alas, it was never meant to be. Later, I would come to understand the whole story. The people that had rescued me hadn't heard of any Aron tribe living in the jungle, so they didn't know what to do with me. It was soon decided to take me in with the rest of the Pokémon requiring health care, which meant moving farther away from my home turf.
Today, I have decided I don't want to return. No, I do want to, but... Oh, it's so difficult. The jungle is so far away, and the tribe may not want me back, now I've been so far away for so long. I only wish I knew how my mother was doing, whether she even survived that fateful night...

But I'm running ahead of myself. I wasn't in Ulthuan just yet. The road to the port was long, and I was going to see a lot more of the jungle during that trip than during all my life before that.
The first night after the Guild's intervening, my past decided to catch up with me, jeopardizing my very future.


Part 3: Tropical Fright Night

It was a dark and windy night (no, not stormy). The moon was frequently shadowed by clouds rushing to the horizon, causing light and shadow to cross the camp in short intervals. I was still held in an open cage, "for my own protection", the Guild had probably thought. This made it hard for me to sleep, however, as the wind chilled my bones, and the rays of moonlight making it to the ground occasionally pierced my eyelids.
My ears picked up on something. Unsure of it at first, I quickly confirmed my suspicions: that the leaves in the bushes were being rustled by more than the wind alone... Small silhouettes were circling the clearing in the middle of which the camp was put up. I heard them breath, and mutter and laugh under their breath. Dark Pokémon?, was my first thought, but none of those living in the jungle walk straight up.
They crept nearer and nearer, and I was uncomfortably aware of my cage being positioned unsafely close to the edge of the camp. Their eyes seemed to glow in the dark...
As they finally stepped into the open, the moon decided to enlighten me on their species. As I gasped for air, my body started to shake all over. I tried to scream, but my voice seemed as paralyzed as I was.
"Now, what is a nice little Aron like you doing in a place like this?, their leader said, smirking.
"And so far from home, even!", his second in command added.
"Makuhita...", I whispered. "... and Meditite and Machop! What... w-what are you doing here?"
"Poliwrath was very disappointed when you all ran away," the Thick Fat Pokémon explained, "he much rather have given you a piece of his mind right then and there!"
"But when the Combusken came back and told us of the little one that got away, lost somewhere in the big, wide jungle..." I gulped, as I heard his voice grow raw. "Well, let's just say he knew how to assemble your little pack, even if they were keen on hiding."
"What do you say, Meditite?", he asked his loyal right-hand, all the while keeping his voice down, while his group was closing in on my cage. "How long before Alabaster comes to the rescue of his lil' pup?"
"The boys are bettin' two hours, sir."
"Two whole hours? 5 Joy Seeds say he'll come running in 90 minutes, tops."
"I'll keep you to that bet, sir."
"Likewise.", he snorted.
I cringed as he had now reached me. He had to crouch to be at eye height with me, and as his face got dangerously close to the bars, his face twisted into a mischievous grin. "Now, dearie... You feel like placing a bet too?"
His troops burst out in amused laughter, though they contained themselves so as to not alarm the Tamers.
"S-s-stop it, y-you big e-e-... you!", I said, trembling, trying not to cry.
"Into the woods with her.", Makuhita commanded. Drilled as they were, 4 of his minions immediately grabbed hold of a corner of my cage. With careless ease, they lifted the whole of it onto their shoulders, marching behind the rest of their gang.
I started shaking all over in fear of what was going to happen to me next. Makuhita and his crew were infamous, rogue Pokémon hired by Poliwrath to do his dirty work.
They were henchmen, but they had minds of their own... minds bent on power, unfortunately. The Beat-Up Squad, was their off-record name.

I learned firsthand why. Even on the short distance they carried me, they managed to "accidentally" hit a five-odd trees and low-hanging branches on the side of the path they were following.
I got exhausted from merely trying to keep standing up, which probably showed how they always managed to beat even a higher-levelled Pokémon they'd caught. Oh yes, the stories had reached us... how they made sure a captee was "conditioned" to lose when they decided to set him free from his chains, in his last struggle for escape, honour... and sometimes even life.

We halted some time later. The sun was already reaching over the world's edge, colors were returning to the world... And all I could think was: is this my last sunrise?

A last knock, twist and turn, and I was left tumbling in my cage as it was abruptly released a foot of the ground, next to an old oak tree. As I came to my senses, I realized I'd finally collapsed. Between the bars, I could see a yellow shape towering above me. The general intimidation radiating off it was further supported by the voice that started speaking just then...
"So, little one," said the Makuhita mischievously,
"I have my orders to interrogate any captees about the whereabouts of their kin. Now, since we caught you going off into a completely different direction, I suspect you don't know a thing about where they're hiding. Alas, orders... are orders."

This comment provoked laughter from his minions, and uncontrolled shivering from me.
"Meditite, if you'd please..." he said, as he stepped away from the cage.

"Sure thing, chief!" The short Pokémon came standing in front of me, his trollish fingers starting to glow.
I was lifted from the floor... and then was sent flying into all eight corners of my cage. (Confusion knows no gravity.)
At the end of the ride, I was on the brink of fainting already... but they wouldn't stop.

"Up for round two, shortie?", the Meditite asked mockingly. I vaguely felt myself being lifted again... then tossed towards the nearest wall of the cage for what would be my second round-trip, now aimed for the sides of the cubicle. Just then, Faith jumped in for me. I didn't know it then at that moment, but that moment would come to mark not the prologue for my demise, but instead a milestone in my life.


Part 4: Deus Ends Massacre

A strange sound echoed through the forest, like a Bronzong being rung, or a ten-foot Chingling chiming. Meditite's Confusion was abruptly stopped, by a much more skilled wielder of Psychic energy. As it enveloped me, I felt my powers returning. I opened my eyes to the shocked faces of the Beat-Up Squad, with Makuhita's face leading the tally in stupefaction.
The light of the sun seemed to have changed, for every thing I saw was wrapped in blue, with static energy seeming to flow between the trees.

As my senses returned to me, my vision seemed to worsen still. However, I realized this was actually because everything around me was becoming rapidly unclear. Just as Makuhita came to, and ordered his crew to try and stop me from escaping... I was warped away from that place.
I felt myself racing through hidden spaces, only acknowledged by the mix of light and shadow flashing by (like flying through hyperspace) that I could see around me. I was clearly leaving the scene at a major speed. Then, I became aware I was slowly coming to a halt. As the feeling of moving decreased, my surroundings became better to see. I found myself at a different clearing, where everything, up to the perfumy smells waving through the air, seemed to be in sharp contrast to the violence I had been saved off. Gravity grabbed me again... and I was pulled onto my knees, momentarily fainting from exhaustion again from all the suffered torments.
Thankfully, my saviour could even take away the effects of that mental scar for me, at least as long as he was with me. I felt... someone nudging at me, telepathically, helping my flailing consciousness upright, sort of speak. I could stand up and face him... and how thankful I am for that even now, because it's a sight I still cherish.

It was a bipedal feline figure, its hind paws four times as long as its front paws. Floating through the air, it didn't seem to need the majestic pair of wings it was stretching out in front of me, them having a wingspan rivalled by a Fearow or a Hunchkrow only in size and overall appearance, but not in beauty. In fact, lately I've been thinking of those wings as physical copies of an Articuno's, but at the time, my pool of reference was much smaller. As the blue glow coming from its active Psychic energy faded into its body, it became apparent to me its body wasn't glowing on itself... it really was the most azure blue color! Sitting on top of its forehead was its royal hair, which had taken the form of an Azelf's toupee. Embedded into its forehead was a crimson red jewel, enough to make a Persian turn green of envy. Its eyes... those golden eyes... they soothed my spirit and being more than subsequent Pokémon Center treatments ever would.
I am no fool, nor a mere fangirl, fulfilled by the mere memory of the encounter for the rest of her life. When I had come to trust Mike enough - admittedly after quite a while -, I expressed to him my desire to learn of the Legendary Pokémon in this world, without specifically mentioning the reason behind it. He laid out a bunch of pictures in front of me that night, printed results of a quick online image search. None of the dozens figures in front of me bore any close resemblance to that divine force of nature... bare two.
I was puzzled for a long time... before concluding what is likely the truth.
During my visits to the Eevee House, and in passing by the different Pokémon Adoption Centers that exist throughout Ulthuan, I've met and seen the most unlikely range of deviations from the "standard" of a Pokémon specie. Take our two youngsters, for instance. A Bagon normally spends his entire life before evolution training to fly... which has been passed into the genes of the specie itself, winning them that incredibly rock-hard head. But our Skyler, he was born from a magical interspecies union, resulting in him being born... winged. I can't imagine your species' inbred desire being fulfilled... five minutes into your lifetime.
As for the other one... I've known him for only such a short time, and I can feel his hidden power will amaze us all before the end of the year. And... he's an Eevee that's most obviously carrying the black-fur, blue-ringed gene. What more is there to say?
Such being the case, I am now aware that what I encountered that day was more than likely a Forme of that Pokémon species never seen before... except perhaps in ancient times, where people could have worshipped it as a God of Life.

And it was clear that this figure knew how to keep its true Forme a secret, as the moment I had fully regained consciousness, I saw its wings folding into itself, eventually disappearing into its back. It bore no doubt that it could change its appearance and color beyond that, causing people who heard the story of anyone who'd briefly observed it before it transformed to pass off the whole encounter as a mirage, or the effect of dehydration.
I for one haven't taken my chances before I told this story, as I know it sounds literally in-credible, me having been harassed moments before.
As it saw I would live to see another day, I think it judged its work to be done. The last thing it did was to put its left front paw on my forehead. It started glowing, and the sound of those bells was heard once more, its vibrations ricocheting through my body, lifting my health unquestionably from the red zone, any status ailments I had acquired fading away. And what was also starting to fade away... was the creature itself! My eyes started to cry, and not from the piercing light still coming off my healing body, no.
I didn't dare call after it, afraid it would shatter the memory of my saviour. I collapsed onto the ground and started weeping, my tiredness getting the better of me again. I could hear footsteps approaching... I gathered later on it were the Humans, who'd found my cage missing when they finally awoke.
I know I couldn't possibly have understood them at the time, but I had been trying so hard to take in every detail of my faithful encounter for later, that I still rememember what sounds they uttered at the sight of me. Now, so much later, I still dream of it. The difference is that I've learned the human tongue in the mean time.
The last thing I heard that night was: "No... my responsibili-...! ... inform Lady V-... later on... for now, she... brought... to heal. ... Once... are... in Ulth-... inform..."
After that, my vision turned black and my mind, blank.

And that's the story of how I, a small, insignificant Aron from deep within the jungle, came from the other end of the world, to be here, known at first, before I ever was adopted or levelled up, as simply:

Aron (LV5) ♀
This rare Pokémon was stolen from its cage prior to release to the public. Dragon Tamer Staff have resolved the situation, but the Aron was badly damaged in the incident. Dragon Tamer Staff may or may not release this Pokémon up for adoption, but there is a waiting list for all those that are keen.
Tackle, Harden, Body Slam