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Kivara Kivaran Bivouac

Jackie Cat

A cat who writes stories.
Heartache staff
Pronoun
they or she
Far to the north in the western tundra, life is sparse much like its eastern tundra counterpart of Malantau. However, it is not completely barren. Harsh conditions make for small, insular communities that have more in common with the nature around them than with other cultures. The sneasel of the Kivaran Tundra are no exception.

Nomadic by nature, it is rare to find the colony in the same place twice. During the prolonged summer days, they will travel to find a suitable site to hunker down for the cold tundra winters. Once a location is found, they set up their hide-and-bone shelters in concentric rings that spiral out from a singular central clearing. Large, communal structures supported by curving mamoswine ivory make up the centermost ring, while smaller individual dwellings arer erected at the edges of the colony, creating a patchwork of brightly-dyed hides in various states of sun-faded color. If one were to fly overhead for a bird’s-eye view, the colours and geometric pattern might evoke the image of a child’s pinwheel.

At the center of the colony stands a ceremonial pyre, serving as its only light source during the winter months. Lighted on the equinox, it remains burning until the first signs of spring break through the permafrost. Small torch-stands are located throughout the colony for ease of travel in the winter months, but most of the sneasel prefer to go without light. Instead, they spend the majority of their time stargazing, trying to divine the fortunes of the colony from the heavens above. More often than not, they eschew conversation in favour of sitting in silence outside the glow of the pyre-light, staring up at the stars.

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Many thanks to @Panoramic_Vacuum for writing up this location opener!
 
Ch09: Tales from the Stars New
These frozen lands only truly thawed in the dead of summer. With the earliest wisps of spring on the horizon, it would take a while yet for winter's icy grip to loosen. Still, the signs were there, if you knew where to look. Icicles glistening with meltwater from the noon sun. Adventurous sprouts peeking through the ground-frost.

As twilight deepened, a greying Typhlosion ambled along a well-trodden path, his hindpaws leaving partially-melted footprints in the snow. He located a small clearing surrounded by a ring of smooth stones, which held an assortment of hardy evergreen shrubs, and set to work. With a few coughs, he ignited his neck blaze, violet flames dancing across his collar. Then, with a light touch and the gentle flicker of embers on his paws, he carefully melted the snow from the tender young leaves.

Nightfall had come by the time his work was done. Satisfied, he turned to head back toward camp. Alioth hummed to himself as he went, occasionally glancing over the hills to the east. Were his old eyes playing tricks on him, or were those travelers making their way across the tundra?
 
Ah, at long last! They finally found a way out of that dungeon! No more uncomfortable confessions or skeletons thrown out of closets to please some eavesdropping pseudo-sentient cavern! They were outside after who knows how long, and hopefully that meant finding civilization and some quiet accommodation. They definitely needed some rest after both the emotional stress and the physical fatigue.

…Though, where exactly was ‘outside’?

Silver took some wary glances and a few whiffs at the air. Nothing looked nor smelled familiar to him. He inwardly groaned as he felt his chest burning in protest: his energy reserves were almost entirely empty. Did that mean they had to… hunt some feral creature or something? Their group was made of mostly carnivores, after all.

‘At least someone can eat the shrubs and roots to get some energy,’ he mused, glancing briefly at Andre before diverting his gaze and grumbling to himself. ‘Ugh! What a terrible time to not be a herbivore or omnivore!’

Then, he spotted something in the distance, cutting through the growing darkness: a light source. Were they… flames? Their motion was very fire-like, but they had a purple tint. So… some ghosts? A cloud of Gastly, maybe? (Was one of them his Gastly…?)

But just as quickly as he spotted them, they slowly faded away. Silver frowned, weighing their options. While fire could mean civilization, there was also the chance that those were lures from feral ghosts. Though, stranded as they were, it’s not like there were many options.

“D’you see them? Those lights?” he asked the others, motioning a clawed paw towards the direction of the strange glows. “I say we should get closer, but carefully. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with.”
 
Maybe it was the part of her that knew she was a Dark-type, maybe it was knowing that – even exhausted – they could probably take any individual 'mon they encountered, but Laura didn't much feel like being cautious.

"Well, whoever they are, we're dealing with them," she quipped.

Malachai descended from his aerial loops and flapped in place just off from Laura's shoulder. "I make this one out to be a Fire, a Ghost, or both," he announced. "What will be our approach?"

Laura nodded. "We ask for hospitality," she said, firmly. "And we defend ourselves if they're hostile."

"Very well," replied Malachai. "And why do you expect hospitality?"

"I don't expect it. But I think it's more likely than not. Contrary to what people think, harsh environments like this often have a culture of looking after guests, rather than, like, hoarding resources or whatever. We just gotta make sure we come off as guests, and not invaders."

She looked over her shoulder at everyone else. "Any objections?"

"None from me," replied Matthias, smoothly.

Laura narrowed her eyes at the frog. As much as she begrudgingly appreciated his consent, she wasn't sure the rest of the party gave a shit what he voted for.
 
Isidora wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but somehow the Kivaran tundra seemed colder than what she remembered of the Pokoynyy. It's probably just been too long, she eventually figured, though with the night now just upon them... perhaps that was why she felt relief upon seeing the flame in the distance. She squinted. Can't make 'em out. What kinda 'mon are they? And why do I feel like I should be able to tell...?

Laura said:
"I don't expect it. But I think it's more likely than not. Contrary to what people think, harsh environments like this often have a culture of looking after guests, rather than, like, hoarding resources or whatever. We just gotta make sure we come off as guests, and not invaders."
"Can't say you're wrong about that," Isidora remarked, remembering the fuss her mother always made whenever someone came over. "They could be wild for all we know, but I'm willin' to risk it." Malachai's type forecast looked like it could go either way for her if things turned south, but with all seven of them she was fairly confident a lone 'mon wouldn't be picking fights with them any time soon.

As they got closer, Isidora realized the figure was watching them. She raised a paw high and waved it, her long claws as sheathed as they could be. "Hey, you friendly?!" she called out. "We're lost out here!"
 
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Alioth raised a paw as a greeting. "Ah, good evening. I might have asked what brings travelers such as yourselves to such a remote place, but being lost would explain it."

He chuckled heartily at his own comment, causing a brief flicker of ghostly flame along his collar. "Forgive me for saying, but you don't seem well-equipped for travel. Might we continue our chat someplace warm? The Kivara have been gracious enough to host me, and the more the merrier."
 
Laura practically bent forwards as she exhaled in relief. Good, this was a good sign, such a good sign.

"Yes, totally, I agree completely," she babbled, grateful once again for her heat gloves, gifted by Steven.

"So, uh, you're not Kivaran yourself?" she asked, curious. "What brings you here? Uh, for us, it's um. Kindof a long story. I'm Laura, this is Malachai, Isidora..." – and so on – "...so, uh. What do we call you?"
 
Alioth chuckled at Laura's eagerness and motioned for her and the others to follow him to the encampment. "It's nice to meet you, Laura. I am Alioth. You might say I've found home in many places over the years as a nomad, communing with spirits and strangers alike. But the Kivara and I are old friends, and northern skies are excellent for reading the stars."

As they traveled along the partially-melted path he'd taken before, Alioth inclined his head back toward the newfound companions. "So, what brings you and your friends out here? Something tells me it is something more than a bit of light stargazing." He chuckled again at his own joke.
 
Since everyone agreed to getting closer to that unknown source of fire, Silver merely replied with a casual shrug, not having any real objection on the matter.

As they approached, he could finally see what kind of ‘specter’ was wandering those half-melted lands. Silver blinked, puzzled by what his eyes were registering, and he tilted his head in confusion. Was that a… Typhlosion? It seemed like it since he had the typical traits of one, like the burners on his neck and the sharp muzzle and ears, but his flames were strangely gentle and alluring, unlike the explosive bursts of Hibiki’s starter Pokémon.

Also, didn’t Malachai say that was a ghost? So maybe he was a regional variant, like Isidora and himself?

"I am Alioth. You might say I've found home in many places over the years as a nomad, communing with spirits and strangers alike. But the Kivara and I are old friends, and northern skies are excellent for reading the stars."

‘Communicating with spirits… ah! So he’s a monk?’ Silver wondered, straightening his stance.

The more he studied Alioth, the more he saw the semblance between that Typhlosion and the Elder Monk of the Sprout Tower. Huh… what was his name again? Li Something? That old geezer who gave him the HM Flash and who criticized him by saying what a terrible Trainer he used to be?

‘Times truly have changed, huh,’ he mused, feeling a small warmth spreading in his heart as he remembered how much he had improved since his early days. ‘What would he say about me and my ways now?’

"So, what brings you and your friends out here? Something tells me it is something more than a bit of light stargazing."

Silver rubbed his neck, gathering his thoughts to piece up a good enough answer. “Ah, y’see, we got involved in some messed up case of teleportation gone horribly wrong, basically. So we ended up separated from our friends, stranded in that starry dungeon and, well, then we had to find our way outta there. Simple as that.”

That was most of the truth, at least.

“We’d like to figure out what happened to them,” he continued, and after another fruitless attempt to connect to Betel, he sighed. “Is there some transportation that could take us to Frontier Town or somewhere close?”

If Alioth was a nomad, he must have known a few ways to travel the various regions, right?
 
In the cold of the now exposed tundra, Andre did not fare well. He hadn't dressed for this weather as he'd only expected to be at the CDE instead of flung... whereverthefuck. Honestly, it reminded him of the Wayfarers' battle with Articuno. And those memories weren't very nice.

At least it wasn't long until they came upon someone friendly. Typhlosion, but not quite like the ones he was used to... Hisuian?

"Forgive me for saying, but you don't seem well-equipped for travel. Might we continue our chat someplace warm? The Kivara have been gracious enough to host me, and the more the merrier."

"Yes, please," Andre squeaked, though something the typhlosion was interesting. The Kivara. It rung a bell... like he'd seen that on a map before. Maybe... northwest? And notably far from Magna City...

If Betel was down, how long would it take for them to get home? Fuck, yeah, Betel was down. Would they be okay? And if not... was it the Wayfarer's fault somehow?

“We’d like to figure out what happened to them,” he continued, and after another fruitless attempt to connect to Betel, he sighed. “Is there some transportation that could take us to Frontier Town or somewhere close?”

Silver had the right idea, even if the weather was probably no issue for him. Andre looked at Alioth expectantly.
 
Alioth hummed as Silver explained their predicament. "Teleportation, you say? Sometimes the caravans stop by to trade, but this time of year, it would only be once a month." He scratched at his chin. "I'm afraid it may be some time before you are reunited with your friends. But life has a funny way of surprising us, and I'm sure it will be easier to look at things after a hot meal—and of course, a hot cup of tea. You might discover some way to return to them, in time."

The Typhlosion's eyes turned skyward. "After all, the boundary between our world and the Astral Plains has grown ever thinner lately."
 
Laura nodded eagerly at the offer of hospitality. Yeah, some food and a cuppa sounded great right about now. Travel back to base could wait, as far as priorities went. Then her brow went up at the other thing.

"You don't say?" she replied, just avoiding her voice cracking. "Like, recently?"

"Really?" asked Matthias, looking pensive. "How interesting. Is this something you have a 'firm measure' of, Alioth-san? How does this metaphyisical thinness reveal itself?"
 
Alioth hummed as Silver explained their predicament. "Teleportation, you say? Sometimes the caravans stop by to trade, but this time of year, it would only be once a month." He scratched at his chin. "I'm afraid it may be some time before you are reunited with your friends. But life has a funny way of surprising us, and I'm sure it will be easier to look at things after a hot meal—and of course, a hot cup of tea. You might discover some way to return to them, in time."
Andre groaned under his breath at the stated infrequency of caravans, but it was drowned by an immediate, burning want at the mention of hot food and drink.

The Typhlosion's eyes turned skyward. "After all, the boundary between our world and the Astral Plains has grown ever thinner lately."
"Ah, fuck," Andre said quietly.

"What?" Ben asked, startling Andre. The cold had made him forget the bear was there. "Why's that an 'ah, fuck'?'"

Andre sighed. He wanted to explain, but really, he was tired and cold as hell.

"Well, you know how some mythologies have rulers of the underworld?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"The one in this place will have our asses on a platter because of this."

"Oh." Ben covered his mouth with a paw. "That is an 'ah, fuck'."
 
The Typhlosion's eyes turned skyward. "After all, the boundary between our world and the Astral Plains has grown ever thinner lately."

Silver felt his blood freezing instantly, and he was more than certain it wasn’t because of the weather (the cold never bothered him, anyway). Not only they were stuck in some frozen barren land in the middle of Who-Knows-Where for who-knows-how-long, but somehow they disrupted the fabric of time and space and crap by failing their mission?

Fan-freaking-tastic! What better way to end an already terrible and exhausting day than by adding ‘Doomsday Bringer’ to his already long rap sheet and the displeasure of an extremely likely visit from a surely furious dark overlord?

“…Is that so?” he muttered monotonously, resisting the urge to clench his claws. He was extremely grateful that Sneasel had a natural glare, so that he could mask his anxiety more easily. “That’s… a fascinating change, I guess. And what kinda stuff might we expect outta that ‘astral thinning’?”
 
"You don't say?" she replied, just avoiding her voice cracking. "Like, recently?"

"Really?" asked Matthias, looking pensive. "How interesting. Is this something you have a 'firm measure' of, Alioth-san? How does this metaphyisical thinness reveal itself?"
Alioth smiled mildly at the Greninja. "Oh, I wouldn't say that it's something that I've measured... more of an observation from the relative ease I have found walking the Plains to be as of late." His gaze turned thoughtful. "Ever since the start of the month, I'd say."

“…Is that so?” he muttered monotonously, resisting the urge to clench his claws. He was extremely grateful that Sneasel had a natural glare, so that he could mask his anxiety more easily. “That’s… a fascinating change, I guess. And what kinda stuff might we expect outta that ‘astral thinning’?”

"'Expect'?" Alioth repeated, a trace of amusement in his voice. "Unless you make a habit of walking the Plains yourself, I don't know that you would have reason to notice it. Unless you're a shaman yourself, and have yet to say so!" he added with a hearty chuckle.

"Ah, but the delvers do tend to say that dungeons get restless from time to time... it wouldn't surprise me if now was one of those times. Something tells me you may know something that I do not, however." He gave Silver a shrewd look, eyes twinkling.

They'd reached the outer perimeter of the camp now, the glow of the central bonfire casting a warm glow across the snow, even from here. A pair of Sneasel looked up as the group approached, and Alioth held up a paw in greeting. "I seem to have picked up some lost travelers on my walk," he said jovially, as though this were some sort of accident that might regularly happen to anyone.
 
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