Sojaveña Wilds Escarpa Clan Camp

[Jackie Cat]

Sierra nodded with satisfaction at Bellatrix as she handled the Radiance without a meltdown – or very much of a reaction at all.

She considered Dave's words carefully, taking a long moment to paw her cheek fur and muse on the possibility he proposed. At last, she met his gaze and responded in level tones.

"I remain pessimistic, having seen how town 'mon of the Commonwealth have treated every conflict for the last generation. Yet all the same, I believe... in my gut... that I should give you offworlders a chance."

The chieftain's eyes narrowed, and her ears pinned back a little.

"My clan has suffered many years of restriction and humiliation, Poochyena. I am no bloodthirsty warlord, but a peace without justice will not be bloodless for long. I am taking a great risk placing faith in you – do not let me down."

Her meaning was clear. It would be difficult for Sierra to delay her clan's war footing and stay them from the path they'd prepared for over many years. If she were to do all that, only for the Escarpa to be forced back into the status quo with nothing to show for it, the situation would become more inflamed than ever.

 

[Butterfree]

"I mean, we can't exactly promise we can work any miracles," Dave said. "But if there's any justice to be found here we're going to fight for it."

If. He knew better than anyone that there was only so much you could fucking do if the rest of society was determined to be assholes. But at least it'd be likelier to lead somewhere than just perpetuating a miserable cycle of violence. Easy enough to sympathize, after all the fuckers had been through, but not exactly productive. There was a fucking middle ground between that and letting the settlers just walk all over them, even if Jesse Stranger had lacked the imagination to conceive of it.

"Thanks for the talk," he said. "We'll do what we can, try to find that Luz person, and then report back."

 

[JFought]

Isidora sobered down, hearing Sierra's words, and her expression turned complicated. A 'great risk' was right. Is it right for her to trust us off a gut feeling? They had some sway thanks to sheer numbers and some local popularity, but that didn't mean much. And her own gut feeling was saying that the writing was on the wall regardless of what anyone did. Their fight is in vain. Our contribution is insubstantial. You can't beat Dialga. But Isidora could never have the heart to say those things out loud. Not when the Escarpa showed the resolve to do something anyway, consequences be damned.

At least, they had a new ally, and they had a new direction. And Dave seemed to have the right idea in not making promises (though she hated to admit it). Maybe Isidora owed it to them to try her best, too.

"Thanks for the chance with Radiance. It was a good experience," she said simply.

 

[Jackie Cat]

The Wayfarers' thanks earned a small, shallow bow of acknowledgement, but no more. Sierra stood, and – glancing at the map that hung in the tent, her stoic expression not quite concealing her conflictedness – padded slowly out.

"You may leave when ready, offworlders. I am sure we'll speak again soon."

With their discussion concluded, and Betel confident of the party's next objectives, what came next?

Hello, everyone. I am pleased to report that the team sent to the rail bridge have been successful in an honour battle against several Escarpa cadets, and Halcón is ordering the pride to stand down. We have bought time to find other solutions and prepare to deal with the Shadow threat in Blaguarro.

I suggest everyone take some time to rest. I believe a team meeting may be in order.
​

More discussion, very possibly... But now, much more than before, the Wayfarers had information, allies, and goals in mind. The early days of their time on Forlas had come to an end.

<><><><><>​

 

[kyeugh]

The walk from the north side of Frontier Town, where Prim did her ranching work, down to the Escarpa Camp had become something of a ritual for her. The path was ever better-carved as the Wayfarers trod it with their many feet, but it was still a space between civilizations. No construction, no hollering, no clinking of glasses, no shrieking of children. The gentle weight of her supple fishing rod felt real against her shoulder. Here you could hear the twittering of fletchling, the rustling of sage. Could feel your own breath.

Even in this distant world, even in this fresh body, Prim yearned for the road.

Some of the Escarpa seemed to recognize her now and tolerated her well enough that they returned her curt inclines of the chin as she passed through their settlement. She didn't stop for chatter as she made her way to the river, over the water-smoothed stones, until she was thigh-deep in the currents. Then she cast her pole back, swirled the line lasso-like with well-practiced ease, and sent the fly sailing into the water.

This was how a plant was meant to live, she thought: mindfully, feet in the water, sun on the back.

 

[Jackie Cat]

Prim went undisturbed for a good while. At some point, a pair of Shinx cubs – she would recognise them as clanners, not feral – 'spied' on her from further down river with what they might have imagined was 'stealth', were it not for their audible stage whispers, until something else caught their attention and they went on their way. At one point, Lluvia happened by and – unusually for her – wished Prim fair skies and warm shelter, as if she were what the Escarpa called a 'civilian'. That is, a resident of Escarpa territory who was outside the clan itself.

In the end, the first actual interruption to her peace and solitude was the arrival of a Braviary on a southward flight path, who did not pass overhead, but instead gradually glided down to land not far from Prim with an impressive displacement of air. The bird stretched, briefly preened, and looked about herself. She didn't seem too concerned with Prim – only with checking if they were alone.

"I don't know you," said the Braviary, not in an unfriendly manner. "Are you clan?"

She bowed her head slightly, and added, "I am Braviary, one called Cascada, and I am both clan and Ranger."

The bird seemed very much more curious than defensive. After all, if Prim was an intruder, the clan would have routed her hours ago. So who was she?

 

[kyeugh]

Prim adjusted her hat, which had been unseated by the braviary's landing flaps. She'd seen and slain these ones in her last life; they roosted proudly in the southern peaks of Kalos, viciously attacking trespassers. This one seemed like a bit less of a cock. She regarded the mon for just a moment before turning her attention back to her pole.

"Clan and ranger, eh? That might make you rarer than me." Something bit on her line. "Name's Prim. I'm just a Wayfarer. Not a particularly special one, either. I just come here to clear my mind sometimes. Hope that ain't a problem." She jerked the pole back and then reeled, slowly at first and then with quiet intensity. She held the line up and dangled her prize for Cascada's inspection. "Not bad. You hungry? I can't actually eat these, myself."

 

[Jackie Cat]

"A Wayfarer? I met some of yours at Headquarters, just recently. You are an odd people! But you are welcome to clear your mind here, if you still wish to as I do the same."

They certainly were odd. Hopefully Cascada didn't mind odd – she didn't seem to, at least.

"I have just taken a long flight," she said, half to herself.

Cascada cocked her head, and stared approvingly at Prim's fishing efforts. Then when there was a prize to offer, she stepped forward and looked at it from various angles, her head on a gyroscope. Then she carefully took it in her talon, bowed her head in thanks, and devoured the fish.

"Many thanks," said the Braviary, her neck feathers ruffling in obvious satisfaction. "I lost the knack of diving for fish when I evolved, and I have not yet had opportunity to practice. I have missed fish so fresh, lately."

The clanner ranger settled down in an avian loaf on the bank and closed her eyes to appreciate the scents and sounds of the river.

"I have never heard of a sun-drinker like yourself learning to fish," remarked Cascada. "You said you were rare? What is your nature, Prim Wayfarer?"

 

[kyeugh]

"Must be nice, flying," Prim said. "It's funny, I got pulled between worlds and took a radically new form... but I'm still more or less shaped the same. I'll go my whole life without knowing how it feels to fly on my own wings. Things could have turned out worse, though. I could've been turned into a fish," she mused as she watched her catch slide down the braviary's cavernous gullet.

"I have never heard of a sun-drinker like yourself learning to fish," remarked Cascada. "You said you were rare? What is your nature, Prim Wayfarer?"

"Rare in the sense that I'm a Wayfarer," she said with a shrug, casting her line again. "It seems like the world I come from is pretty different from everyone else's, so maybe I'm uncommon in that way. But I don't know. Hearing about the places the others came from doesn't much interest me. I'd rather know more about Forlas, you know? It's where I am. Everything else is just a dream.

"Myself, I lived my life on the move, not too different from your clan. You find things to amuse yourself outside. Fishing's a good one. Gets you dinner. After a point, you come to love it for the sport. Nothing beats wading into a clear mountain stream, not another soul in sight, just you and your thoughts. I'm sure you know the feeling yourself, eh? Up above the clouds, a bird and the winds. Not everyone needs that, but me... I do.

"So what about you? Ranger and clanner. That seems unusual to me, far as I can gather anyway. What draws a mon to that path?"

 

[Jackie Cat]

Cascada listened with keen interest, and patience. Escarpa weren't active listeners, it seemed. Instead, the bird reacted with subtle nods and talon-scratches on the ground.

"Then in truth, you were a human in your home world," she observed. "Like Ranger Jesse. He once made a similar observation; he was brought here in a body not too strange to his own mind. Perhaps this is the way of such things."

The Braviary's face wore a thoughtful, almost playful expression for a moment.

"I know the feeling you describe. Peace at high altitude. It is something I experience often – it makes me suited to being a clan scout, and an extended-patrol Ranger. In truth, it is usual for there to be one or more Rangers of the clan, and more who are veterans of the Ranger Union, since returned to clan life. Sierra our chieftain is one such. Myself, though... You might say I am restless. Townies have this word, 'wanderlust'. In truth, I think I just become bored if I can't travel in my own way."

She angled her head from side to side, in a gesture like someone tilting their flat palm back and forth.

"Or maybe I do like to help other 'mon, and spare the vulnerable. It does not have to be my first and only reason, is that not true? I want to help, but I live to tavel."

The thoughtful-playful expression returned.

"Would you like to know the feeling of flight, Prim?" asked Cascada, extending her wings to warm them in the sun.

 

[kyeugh]

"Then in truth, you were a human in your home world," she observed. "Like Ranger Jesse. He once made a similar observation; he was brought here in a body not too strange to his own mind. Perhaps this is the way of such things."

"Hmm. Maybe. I know a few humans that got turned into dogs, and they don't seem too happy about it." She shrugged. "Waking up in a new world in a body I can't understand probably would've been more than I could handle, personally. Maybe the powers that be understood that."

"I know the feeling you describe. Peace at high altitude. It is something I experience often – it makes me suited to being a clan scout, and an extended-patrol Ranger. In truth, it is usual for there to be one or more Rangers of the clan, and more who are veterans of the Ranger Union, since returned to clan life. Sierra our chieftain is one such. Myself, though... You might say I am restless. Townies have this word, 'wanderlust'. In truth, I think I just become bored if I can't travel in my own way."

She angled her head from side to side, in a gesture like someone tilting their flat palm back and forth.

"Or maybe I do like to help other 'mon, and spare the vulnerable. It does not have to be my first and only reason, is that not true? I want to help, but I live to tavel."

Prim nodded deeply. "I understand better than you can know," she said. "Where I'm from, most people live in towns. The way I lived was unusual there. But sitting around in the same place, knowing every detail of it, not being able to take off when I've had my fill... It's..." She trailed off, searching for the word. "Constricting. Maybe you relate. I traded a warm bed and hot food for the cold ground and forage, but I don't regret it a bit. A roof doesn't replace the stars, it extinguishes them. As for the helping others part... Well, that's enough for some people. For me, it's a living."

"Would you like to know the feeling of flight, Prim?" asked Cascada, extending her wings to warm them in the sun.

You don't really realize how big a braviary's wings are until they're unfolded in front of you. Cascada's unfurled almost lazily, each to a span twice Prim's human height, and she was not a slight woman. This was a massive creature—it defied belief that she could catch the air.

"Uhhh..."

She had no doubt the braviary could handle her weight—for all her mass, she may as well be a tick burrowing into her lustrous blue feathers. Still, something about the prospect unsettled her. How best to put it...

"Is it... safe? Is this like asking a fish if it'd like to spend some time on land? Not that I think you're trying to kill me, but..." She pressed her mouth into a line. "There's much I don't know."

 

[Jackie Cat]

Cascada didn't laugh, as such, but something about the curve of her beak and the twitch of her head communicated deep amusement.

"I am an expert at taking passengers, new friend. It is my vocation to rescue lost pokémon – I must often carry them clear of danger."

She glanced towards the camp proper, and smiled fondly.

"You mentioned 'constricting'. The clan moves regularly, and even when encamped, there is much movement. But it is not random, it is seasonal, predordained. It is the uncertainty I seek, I think. The lack of comfortable familiarity. No stars 'extinguished', as you say it."

She looked back at Prim, and bowed her head in invitation.

"Come, wanderer. Take a risk or regret your fear."

 

[kyeugh]

The great eagle bowed her head, and the fan of feathers that extended from the top of her beak was almost as big as Prim herself.

She shifted a little in place. Suffice to say she hadn't exactly factored a high-speed, high-altitude ride over the country into her agenda for the day. But Cascada's words were ringing in her ears:

"Come, wanderer. Take a risk or regret your fear."

She swallowed hard, head pounding a little.

"Alright. I'm trusting you."

Carefully, she climbed onto the braviary's back—her feathers were a little slick but soft, each one bigger than a human hand. As she maneuvered, she held her fishing rod in place with an extended vine. Then, once seated, she reeled it feverishly and pulled in one last fish. Not as impressive as the last one, but better than bait for sure.

"Snack for the road?"

 

[Jackie Cat]

Cascada watched with a curious glint, holding still for Prim to take position.

"How unusual. Why not?"

The bird swallowed the smaller fish whole, and took a satisfied breath... then spread her wings.

"You are safe with me," she told Prim, with the confidence of a ranger who'd done this a hundred times.

Braviary didn't need a running takeoff. Cascada's wings beat the air, and her body lifted forward and upward with a sense of authority. The bird had a right to the sky, and the ground fled from her as she ascended.

 

[kyeugh]

Madness.

Prim held tight to her hat as the wind-force threatened to rip it away. Her poncho whipped wildly, deafeningly. The air chapped her cheeks and drew ichor to them, eyes watering with pellucid sap. Each mighty beat of Cascada's wings sent the braviary's body lurching heavenward, and Prim's stomach lurched with it, all kinetic fury and fierce roiling.

Reflexively, Prim released a pair of vines and wrapped them around Cascada's trunk, latching herself tight, becoming her own saddle. Hopefully the braviary wouldn't mind.

After a moment, when her breaths began to steady, she blinked away tears and craned her neck over the braviary's shoulder, daring to gaze below.

The world was like a diorama. The Escarpa encampment was no more than a little scribble along the banks of the river, its inhabitants less than ants. The creases and the folds of the foothills were so clear, as if God had crumpled up a fistful of parchment and left it there to the weather. Was that Frontier Town in the distance, rail tracks emanating from its beating smoke-heart like scars on the earth? The ruddy country stretched out endlessly, punctuated by hoodoo and brush, so vast, but—from here—so insignificant.

The conflicts the Wayfarers had been embroiled in here felt so important, more substantial than anything she'd known in her homeworld. And there were hints of greater conflicts to come. But from up here, it was hard to imagine any of it mattered. They were mites, mites playing mite-games spilling mite-blood. A great tree bid nothing to the moss that climbed over its trunk, and they were less even than that.

The memory of the great black sea echoed in her mind, looking down at all this—the one the cleffa-like had foolishly plunged into. She'd gotten a sense of its vastness then. An expanse that defied reckoning. Infinity.

And yet, somehow, it was depending on them. All that was worthy on this great sphere depended on the works of these lice. So few in number. Every action by each of them counted. Including her. And here was she, spending her days fishing idly at the stream.

She swallowed hard, wind still battering her face, emerald heart still hammering in her chest.

"Thanks for taking me up here," she choked out, sure her words were lost to the wind.

<><><><><>​

 

[Jackie Cat]

When the Wayfarers had last seen the Saint known as the Wandering Light, she'd met briefly with Chieftain Sierra, then appeared at the invasion of Terminal Two to grant the light of Radiance to the party. Since then, she'd barely been seen for several weeks, spending her time with Sierra on wandering journeys north, south, and who knew where else. Training, perhaps? Searching for something, maybe?

In any case, she was back now, and holding court in the Escarpa Clan's autumn camp. Rumour had it that the blind Zeraora would spend hours at a time fishing in the Silver nearby, or sitting in some meditative state atop a convenient sandstone stand or white fir tree. Or that she would play with Escarpa cubs and kits – impossible to sneak up on despite her blindness, to the squealing delight of assorted youths. Or that she chewed peyote, to then spend hours introspecting and seeing visions. Others said tobacco, mad-apple, poppy, mezcal, tequila.

Right now, she wasn't using any of those. She was alert and relaxed in Sierra's tent, one knee against the ground and her arm resting on the other. She looked somehow healthier than before. Brighter. The weather, too, was pleasant – cooler in late autumn than it had been some weeks ago, and breezy enough to take the edge of the sun's heat. The chieftain's tent had been opened up a little, flaps of canvas pulled back to let in air and light.

The Wayfarers had been invited to come by Sol, a clanner Fletchinder, and several had arrived in hopes of learning more from the ageing Saint, or else for reasons of their own. Sierra was present too, laying sphinx-like to one side. The offworlder Lycanrocs, too – quietly observing, talking to each other about some private matter – and the ARK Unit who'd chosen the name Sage. These three held in common that they were lucid Shadow-wielders – did Luz have something in mind for them...?

"So – looks like your crowd are sticking around," observed Zeraora Luz, once the Wayfarers began to filter in, escorted by Zangoose Lluvia.

"I have persuaded Luz to give you some form of mentorship," said Sierra, with a hint of amusement.

"I've been persuaded to keep an eye on the lotta y'all," amended the Saint, her milky eyes not moving. "And to shed some light on the countless questions you no doubt have lined up in those skulls of yours. About the likes a' me, an' so forth."

Her tone was begrudging, but for the meeting to be happening to begin with, Luz must be serious about helping the Wayfarers. Something about Sierra's leonine smirk and Luz' sardonic deadpan suggested that the Wayfarers ought to be able to handle a modicum of rough speech, if they were really all that...

 

[Ambyssin]

Nova hadn't heard of the invitation directly, but rather through Sage. And given they were going, Nova felt compelled to accompany them. Technically speaking, this was his first time heading to the clan's camp. He'd taken a couple of type disks with him, but ultimately decided against using one, figuring it proper to be "himself."

He nodded respectfully to the various clan members and the big luxray he assumed was Sierra. Then Luz started to speak. Nova imaged there were plenty of questions. His was simple, but he wasn't sure if it'd hit on sore spots for the zeraora or not.

"You've been the Light for quite a while now," Nova said. "But when did the 'Wandering' part come into play?" He didn't think she started that way, but he'd been wrong before.

 

[MintyMimix]

There was no grand entrance, no fluttering across from place to place as he wondered about every little thing in sight, no ceaselessly prattling on this time; the Mismagius had simply followed with his head straight his hat just a bit tipped over his face. In the span of a short amount of time, they had already directly been involved with or brought out all these Pokémon — these historically significant figures — and if he were being honest with himself, he couldn't help but fidget at the thought of it. He wanted to help the world, of course, but just how much had they disrupted, and how much would they all disrupt? He lips couldn't decide whether to grin in excitement or frown in contemplation.

He'd think about it later. That's what he always did. "Well, ain't no reason why we wouldn't," Ghaspius remarked with a mirth wave of a tassel. "There's still an underbelly waitin' to be flipped over from my understandin'. We've only seen the shadow of it." Pun intended, of course.

He started digging through his bag as he spoke. "Well, since y'all are openin' up the floor to it, how 'bout a simple question: what got y'all here?" The Mismagius asked as the glass clanged and cloth ruffled. "As the Wandering Light? As a Radiance master?"

 

[Jackie Cat]

Luz leaned forward, grinning.

"Ah, you want my whole backstory, is that it? Well, I can give you the gist in a flash. The 'Wanderin' Light' is just the title for Zeraora, so as folks don't have to invoke the species name an' risk needin' the Saint. Pretty common superstition, that. Every Zeraora is a traveller – there's somethin' in the essence of this body, I guess, as makes me yearn to leave every place I ever stepped paw. The Light is maybe 'cause every Zeraora makes damn sure to pass the proper use of Radiance to the next, and over the generations I s'pose it became... iconic, y'might say. That, or p'rhaps wieldin' lightning was enough in th'first place. Or 'cause most Zeraora were Luxray before, an' Luxray are light-bearers after a fashion themselves – it's in the name. Ray of light."

"You mean you don't know?" came a vexed whisper from a cub peeking through the entrance tent flap. Shinx Nube.

Luz shook her head. "Nope."

"Were you a Luxray?" probed a second Shinx – Bosque – trying to look past from underneath Nube's foreleg.

Luz nodded. "Yep. Don't they still tell of me in the Clan? I was actin' Chieftain, once. I lead warparties against Tenacindean tercios, I learned under half the shamans and stargazers of the Soja', and I knew how to throw a goddamn party."

"We tell of you," purred Sierra, with a trace of amusement. "All the stories, in fact..."

Luz grimaced. "Don't you start. It's no sin to wax nostalgic about my mortal life. I don't get to boast about nothin' I've done in this sack of flesh."

Sierra nodded with understanding, and with a gesture of tail and paw, instructed the Shinx cubs to hurry someplace else.

"So... You trained under the previous Zeraora," she said, returning the topic to where it had been.

"That I did. He chose me 'cause I was good at fightin'. Personally I reckon he oughta have chosen fer more'n just that... Legendary pokémon ain't meant to be warriors an' nothin' else, and not much good ever came of my bein' able to punch a sorry sonofabitch into the subsoil from a standin' start. S'why I looked fer more'n just bein' a battleheart in my successor."

 

[Ambyssin]

Nova looked down. Not meant to be warriors and nothing else...

Well, good thing he didn't get to be a warrior on Forlas, he supposed.

"The proper use of radiance, huh?" Nova hummed in thought. "What does properly sharing radiance to new generations entail, anyway?"