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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jAAGOeWiz2U

last thread: >>3321438

The kingdom of Arbor is gripped by civil strife, their High King dead leaving the throne empty. The great Houses war among each other with the common people torn between them. House Sycamore has the strongest claim after annihilating their rival, House Oak, bringing many of their lands and retainers under their control, though resistance continues. House Elm and Rowan fight each other as much as Sycamore. Chaos reigns.

It has been three years since the fall of House Oak. In the Tyran Mountains stands you, the last prince of Oak. With your retainers Kasumi and Ser Johann, and your charmander, you resist Sycamore tyranny from the wild forests and valleys.

You are Prince Leif, and you are fifteen, soon to be sixteen.

You have grown in the last three years, the harshness of the wilds hardening you, your soft noble upbringing burned away. Living off the land and striking where you can, you spend your days honing your skills.

On a quiet spring morning in the heights of the forested mountain side, you are:

>training with Kasumi
>training with Ser Johann
>bonding with your charmander
>>
>>3340738
>>training alone
>>
>>3340738
>bonding with your charmander
This is better than being an edgy loner.
>>
>>3340738
>training with Ser Johann
Might makes Dead Scumbags
>>
>>3340738
>training with Ser Johann
Yesssss
>>
>>3340738
>Bonding with your charmander
>>
We're pathetic in combat right now fellas. Gotta train our own skills first or we'll just get killed before we can bond with Charmander more later
>>
Should I just roll for it or something, or wait for another vote?
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

I'll roll.

1 is Johann
2 is charmander
>>
>>3340738
>training with Ser Johann
>>3340863
Wait for me, duh
>>
Okay, I'll go with Ser Johann since that last vote came in right on the wire

writing
>>
File: 1548929276557.gif (2.46 MB, 494x740)
2.46 MB
2.46 MB GIF
And that one fucker had no faith. Welcome back, OP.
>>
Hells yes blood and iron. Welcome back op awesome quest so far.
>>
In all this time you had grown closer to your retainers. Relying on each other to survive had deepened your bonds, strengthened them. Not just your retainers but your charmander too, the soft little fire lizard thriving into a confident beast in the wilderness. You were rarely apart, and he sat with Ser Johann's scyther, sitting up on a rock, tail swishing behind him and the scyther crouched low as they watched the two of you train.

The crash of steel rang across the glade, your sword spinning in cuts and parries. You were panting, your sword a steel pinwheel to keep Ser Johann at bay. He barely seemed to move, a shift of his feet bringing down the crash of his blade, his point swishing in front of your eyes, beguiling you.

"The sword is a liar," he said, "Ignore it, look past it. It wants to deceive you, and when it tricks you it will kill you. Focus on me, my body."

It was the same instruction he had drilled into you for years now. You had neglected the sword when you had lived in a castle, but out here you couldn't afford to ignore it. If it wasn't Sycamore men that were trying to kill you it was the outlaws, if it wasn't the outlaws it was the wild Pokemon. All you had was your wits, your friends, and your Pokemon, and you wouldn't be a burden on them, not anymore.

With a swish and a twist your sword went flying from your fingers, Ser Johann's point at your throat.

"Dead," he growled, "And with you the Oak cause. Go pick up your sword, and try again."

You stumbled over to your sword in the grass, your thighs burning. You bent to pick it up and caught a flash in the corner of your vision. You spun, throwing the blade up between you, and caught Ser Johann's descending cut.

"Good," he said with a grim smile, drawing back, "Never think you're safe, never ave your back to an opponent, even me."

"So I shouldn't trust anyone?" you said, voice cracking with puberty, "Not even you?"

"No, especially when they have a sword in their hand. Trust killed your father. Don't make his mistakes."

Talk of your father made your jaw clench. It wasn't like Johann to insult his memory. You took your sword in both hands, a rage formed from grief rising in you.

"You're angry, good, but make sure you use that anger," Ser Johann said, falling into his duelling stance, "Come at me."

You drove forward, your cuts tighter, sharper, faster. But no matter how fast or how clean, your blows couldn't make it through Ser Johann's defence. You circled each other, your frustration and anger growing.

"Focus it, my prince," he said through the clash of steel, "Hone your anger to a fine point, then drive it forward!" He lunged and his thrust sent your sword up over your head, leaving you open. He lay the edge of his blade on your throat.

"Dead," he said, stepping back, "But at least this time you didn't drop your sword." You shook with exhaustion, sweating, panting, skin flushed cold as an afternoon wind whipped up.
>>
The whistle of a wood flute called you both to lunch. Your charmander hopped down from his rock and chased after you.

Kasumi had her hair wrapped under a scarf, a pot of Oddish soup in hand. She ladled it out, adding a crust of old bread.

Your home, if you could call it that, was a rough camp that could be quickly disassembled. You had lived in the nook of a cave with a grass screen, keeping only as much as you could carry. It was a temporary home, one of dozens of hidden camps scattered around the mountains. Kasumi's bow sat propped beside the entrance, with a quiver of arrows. You ate the soup quickly, wolfing it down.

"Spring's here, the snows have melted so we can move further into the mountains," she said, "Sycamore patrols are getting deeper, growing bolder."

Ser Johann grunted around his meal.

"Last time we went that high we had trouble with outlaws though," she said, serving herself last.

"The so-called bandit king," Ser Johann growled, "We'll need to deal with him eventually."

"My contact in Farborough says a new overseer has been appointed to the High Rock mine, a wicked man who has been driving the miners hard. Maybe it's time we launched another raid, remind the people we're still here."

Ser Johann set down his bowl, wiped his mouth. "It's too dangerous," he said, "We should break camp and head up the mountains, figure out what to do from there."

"We've done nothing all winter," Kasumi snapped, "Why should the people trust us if they feel we've abandoned them?"

Ser Johann looked ready to bite. "A raid is too dangerous, and the boy isn't ready."

"Don't talk about him as if he isn't right there," she fired back. She looked to you. "It's your decision, you're the prince. What do you want to do?"

Both options seemed fair. Avoiding Sycamore patrols was important, but you also felt restless after a long and empty winter. And you had a duty to your people that felt neglected.

>break camp for the mountains
>a raid
>>
>>3340988
>a raid
>>
>>3340988
>a raid
muh duty
>>
>>3340988
>break camp for the mountains
Bet ya'll charmander don't even Metal Claw.
>>
>>3340988
>a raid
>>
writing
>>
"A raid," you said, "Kasumi is right, we need to do more. Sycamore has taken everything from us, I won't run from them when I can."

Memory of your brother and father and the slaughtered people of Skyglade fired your memory. The rage that was always there flared to life. You hadn't been raiding for long, only since last season, and it had been small things. Attacking Sycamore scouts, Sycamore tax collectors, Sycamore warriors caught alone. Your existence was a rumor among the peasantry, nearly a folk tale. The Oak prince avenging his kin, striking out at the tyrants from the night. You felt it was time to do more.

Ser Johann didn't like it, but kept his peace.

"You mentioned a new overseer in High Rock?" you said. Kasumi nodded.

"A brutal, petty man named Ser Wesley. They say he's cut the workers' rest breaks and is free with their women, taxes them into poverty and dangles impossible debts over their heads to have his way. No one challenges him, he's protected by Sycamore warriors and a pet rhyhorn."

"A rhyhorn is not challenged lightly," Ser Johann said, "Sycamore needs this mine."

"High Rock has a vein of gold that has kept House Oak steady in uncertain times, maybe the vein runs deeper than we thought, or there's something else of value there," Kasumi replied.

"It's enough for me to know Sycamore wants it to take it from them," you said, "We'll deal with the overseer."

"And have all of Sycamore's warriors come after us, up into the mountains," he said.

"We can make them regret that," Kasumi said with a grin. Her arbok, hidden among the stone mountainside, hissed out in anticipation.

"High Rock then," you said, ignoring the nervous throb in your neck.

With the decision made you spent the rest of the afternoon preparing, then fell into a restless sleep.

You dreamed the same thing every night. Your father and brother in the feast hall of Skyglade forest, eating with your mother. Every face was known to you but hers, all of them dead faces. The servants, your family. Smiling corpses. A dead fearow hung off your brother's shoulder, the corpse bird plucking at his dish. You called to them but they could never hear you. You couldn't hear what they said or the sound of their laughter.

You awoke still and covered in a cold sweat, your charmander curled up on your lap. Sun hadn't risen, the morning was cold. You could smell rain in the distance.
>>
You saw the green hide of the scyther squatting beside you. It clicked its wings, a pack rolled up on its back.

Kasumi pulled on her straw raincoat around her shoulders, pulling on her broad brimmed straw hat. She slung her quiver at her hip, bow in hand, checked her slender knife in its scabbard. A curtain of rain fell before you had secured your own raincoat. Her arbok slithered up through the rain, its hood wide, sheltering your charmander's tail. Arboks had a bad reputation, but Kasumi's had been kind to your charmander, protecting him from the wilderness and the rain that threatened to dampen his fire. It was small for an arbok, but had grown just as you had, almost nine feet in length.

Ser Johann, outfitted for travel, looked like a dangerous vagabond rather than a House knight. He secured his sword. Rain bounced off his scyther's armored hide.

Silent hand signals started your journey. You would avoid speaking when you could. The rain drenched ground squelched under your feet, the rain drumming on your straw hat. You weren't much of a noble household.

High Rock was a week away on foot, a hard journey over uncertain ground. From forest to barren rock, exposed to the sun. The west was a wet land by nature, and a drizzling spring rain followed you everywhere.

Your journey ended on a rocky perch overlooking the mining town of High Rock, ringed in by the mountains, guarded by a wooden gate. The Sycamore banner flew overhead, warriors with the Sycamore tree on their chests standing guard.

You dropped low. Would they know you to look at you?

"There could be another way in, but it's risky," Kasumi said, "The rocks are wet and untrustworthy."

"But if you're recognized...." Ser Johann cautioned. It was risky either way. The decision was yours.

>sneak in
>use the front gate
>>
I've been working on that region list btw. will post it once its done.
>>
Whichever you pick there'll be a dice roll
>>
>>3341143
>sneak in
>>
>>3341143
>sneak in
>>
>>3341143
>use the front gate
Two thirds of our party aren't exactly stealthy.
>>
>sneak in

roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>3341266
>>
Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>3341266
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>3341266
>>
>>3341269
Okay cool

writing
>>
Sorry got distracted
>>
Kasumi lead you down a gogoat trail, where tough grass grew among the rocks. The rocks shone wet, the ground slippery, but you kept your feet. Your charmander skipped behind you, and behind him came Ser Johann and his scyther. Kasumi's arbok slithered above in the rocks, effortlessly coiling through the jagged landscape, its purple hide blending into the surrounding. Kasumi had her bow in hand. She dropped to a crouch, the path beginning to descend. She pointed, two fingers.

You followed her fingers down into the middle of town. A line of men in rags, chained together at the ankles and wrists, stood for inspection in a muddy square. A little man in an oversized breast plate stamped with the Sycamore tree strode in front of them. Behind him sat a heavy rhyhorn, its horn lowered. The men had brands burned into their arms. Your tongue curled with a foul taste.

Slaves. They were bringing in slaves.

You guessed the little man was Ser Wesley. He had a sharply waxed mustache and a smile that made you think of watered milk. His warriors were tugs and bullies lazily watching from the shade. Whatever he was saying you couldn't hear it, but he had a cruel mouth that no doubt dripped venom.

One of the workers was brought forward and thrown down into the mud at his feet. Ser Wesley raised one finger, then two. He nodded, and his sharp whistle carried up to your perch. The rhyhorn stomped over. Horror began to mount as it reared up onto its hind legs, the man in the dirt rolled onto his back, hands raised in a feeble effort to protect himself, trying to squirm away but just churning up the mud under him.

"Don't look," Kasumi said, grabbing your arm.

>look away
>watch
>>
>>3341404
>>watch
>>
>>3341404
>>look away
>>
>>3341404
>watch
>>
writing
>>
"I have to," you say, staring down at the scene unfolding. The rhyhorn dropped its weight, and the man screamed, his legs crushed. Warriors came and dragged him out of the mud. You'd hoped he'd pass out from the pain, but the man stared in horror at the splinters of his leg as he was dragged away. It was easier to endure than you had expected, though your guts were burning.

Ser Wesley smiled, coiling his mustache around his fingertip. Less than a man, you thought.

"Come on," Kasumi said, grabbing your hand.

She lead you down, a shower of rocks running before you. You came to a stop behind a small hut. Kasumi pulled off her hat and shook out her hair, smiled as she backed against the wall, eyeing the ground in front. The line of slaves was being taken up the road to the mine. They shuffled, heads hung in despair, faces lost and vacant.

You checked your sword. Your charmander flicked his tail, expression tight and focused. You stroked the back of his head.

"What next, my prince?" Johann asked, testing the sword in his scabbard, his scyther keen at his side, "Do we just rush in and create mayhem? Do you have a plan?" His look was challenging, questioning, the burden of leadership on you. Your desire for revenge rages inside you.

>mayhem sounds good
>gather information first
>>
>>3341510
>>gather information first
>>
>>3341510
>gather information first
>>
writing
>>
okay, going to take a break to deal with something. sorry
>>
"Let's find out what's going on first," you said.

They didn't know you were here, now was the time to sneak around. You take off your raincoat, water dripping from the soggy strands, and hand it to Kasumi. You crouch down and stroke your charmander.

"Stay here, little one," you said. He nodded.

Kasumi gives you a wink as you slink forward. Your time in the wild had taught you how to move softly when needed to, and you padded around the hut.

The rain had given way to sun, which had raised the humidity. A warrior fanned himself in the shade, a bowl of apricots by his elbow that he would fish for as hungry villagers looked on. You kept your head down, but there weren't a lot of people out and about.

Some boys close to your own age stood in the shade glaring at the Sycamore warriors. A woman pinned up her laundry to a line at a fretful, nervous pace. She looked eager to be off the streets.

Oppression and humidity made a stifling cocktail that ran thick through the village. A warrior brayed with laughter at an old man stumbling through the mud.

>roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>3341615
>>
Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>3341615
>>
Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>3341615
>>
Sorry, got distracted
>>
You watched the woman leave her laundry to go to the stumbling old man. You could see he was blind, at least partially, and feeble from the way he shook. She took him by the arm and shoulder, beginning to walk him away, when the laughing soldier stood up. She hopped in shock, her face pale as he grabbed her back side, sniffing her neck.

You moved forward by instinct, grabbing the hilt of your sword.

"Hey!"

Your head snaps around. One of the boys charged forward with a stick in hand. The warrior's look turned sour. A pug nosed boy with a scowl stomped through the mud.

"Get your hands off my sister!"

The warrior pushed the woman away. She stumbled and you caught her, steadying her, and helped her and the old man limp away.

"Thank you," she muttered, wrapping an arm around the old man.

"You want trouble, little brat?" the warrior said, "Maybe you can talk about that with Crusher?" He gestured to the ryhorn lounging out the front of the overseer's hut. The boy didn't stop and brought the stick around, upside the warrior's head. "What?" he gasped in surprise, "You're dead."

The warrior reached for his sword.

>intervene
>stay back
>>
Sorry, a lot of distractions today
>>
>>3341727
>>intervene
>>
>>3341727
>intervene
>>
>>3341727
>intervene
>>
writing
>>
He drew it and swung, and it clashed on your bare steel. He looked to you in surprise as you pushed the blade away. He stepped back.

"Who are you?" he said.

You point your sword at his face. The boy moved to your side.

"Thanks," he had a raspy voice.

"You're welcome," you said.

"So you want a taste of Crusher too, huh?" the warrior snarled, "Ser Wesley, we have a pair of traitors!"

Other warriors gathered as Ser Wesley came out of his hut, buckling on his sword.

"What is this?" he said, then went pale at the sight of naked steel. He clicked at his rhyhorn and the beast raised its head, lumbering to his side. You turn to face him.

"What is this, who are you?" Ser Wesley said.

> no one important
> Leif, Prince of Oak
> ....Ser Schtolteheim Reinbach the Fourth
>>
>>3341812
>> Leif, Prince of Oak
>>
>>3341812
>Leif, Prince of Oak
STOKE THE FLAMES OF REBELLION
>>
writing
>>
"You should get out of here," the boy said, hiding his fear.

You salute with your sword.

"I'm Lief, son of Eric, Prince of Oak and rightful Lord of Skyglade," you said.

Ser Wesley blanched, bottom lip trembling.

"Impossible," he said, "The Oak line was wiped out years ago."

"Yet here I stand," you said, "And I'll not stand by while injustice reigns in my land."

The warrior you had clashed with had a tough look, then a mean grin.

"Aye, if that's true, then if we kill you we'll be well rewarded," he said, "Prince Wulfher is a generous lord."

"Y-yes," Ser Wesley said, "If you kill the boy, our prince will reward you. Bring me his head!"

The warriors drew their swords. They checked each other, waiting to see who would move first.

The villagers poked their heads from their windows, filled their doorways, curious and fearful.

>time to leave
>time to fight
>>
>>3341877
>>time to fight
>>
>>3341877
>time to fight
>>
>>3341877
>time to fight
>>
okay roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>3341905
>>
Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>3341905
>>
>>3341907
nice, writing
>>
"Men, go and-" Ser Wulfher began

"Get 'em!" the warrior snarled, leaping forward.

Your blood pounding in your ears, all of Ser Johann's lessons clicked into place. You ducked back from the cut of the warrior's sword and swiped with your blade. The second man you had ever killed gasped, clutching his throat as he dropped into the mud, splattering your pants. The next came for your flank and you spun around, your blade flashing out to parry the blow, then reverse to open another throat.

Two dead Sycamore warriors was a good start.

The rest circled you, hesitant to advance. If they charged as one you'd be killed in seconds, but their dead comrades at your feet held them back.

The arrows that smacked into the ground in front of you helped even more.

Kasumi whistled from a rooftop, her bow in hand. Ser Johann strode out with his scyther by his side, your charmander behind him.

Ser Wesley shook.

"C-Crusher, get them!" he screeched, pointing. His rhyhorn shook its head, gouged the earth with its fore hoof, and lowered its horn to charge.

>roll 1d100
>>
Again, I'm sorry I've been so distracted
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>3341978
>>
Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>3341978
>>
>>3341991
Okay, cool

writing. Might make this the last post for today
>>
The rhyhorn charged, the stomp of its feet shaking the earth, and you ducked to the side, your sword striking its horn. Sparks flew up and you nearly lost your sword. The rhyhorn threw up its head, grinding its feet as it slid around, splattering mud across the warriors. You roll across the mud, getting onto your feet, half of you covered, mud dripping off the side of your face.

You stared down the rhyhorn. It was big and broad, it was mean, it wanted to kill you. This was a Pokemon raised to hurt and cause pain. It pointed its horn at you, hunching its shoulders, and drove forward. How could something so heavy move so fast?

Your guts clenched and you ducked aside. The rhyhorn drove into the nearby house, smashing through the wall, sending wood flying. You panted, sweating hard, your hair matted with mud. Your legs struggled under you. One hit from that thing would destroy you.

"Get him you oafs, get him!" Ser Wesley said, pointing his sword at you from behind a wagon.

The rhyhorn shook off the debris of the home, a cowering family of peasants packed into one corner. It snorted as it backed out, turned around. It glared at you, ducking its head one more time, and you swallowed.

It readied to charge....
-
I'll pick this up tomorrow
>>
>>3341877
>time to d-d-duel
>>
>>3342039
should have refreshed between waking up and voting
>>
I just realized I didn't number these
>>
>>3342032
May not be able to follow due to time zones but I'm enjoying the quest!
>>
File: ryhorn.png (153 KB, 390x390)
153 KB
153 KB PNG
The rhyhorn readied to charge....you readied your sword....its eyes locked with yours.

Then fire burst across its stony flank. It gave a hard grunt, shaking its head. Your charmander stared it down, his arms wide, a stern look on his face with fire licking from out of its mouth, the flame on his tail burning bright and tall. The fire had scorched the rhyhorn's rocky plate, but if it had hurt the beast it showed no sign, grunting more in irritation. But now its attention was on your little charmander.

A brick sailed through the air and cracked on the rhyhorn's back.

"Hey, hey!"

The raspy voiced boy again, carrying a sack of bricks. He had a pick-axe at his side.

"Over here you mean lug!" he yelled, throwing another brick. It twirled through the air, breaking across its back again. The rhyhorn shook its heavy head, looking back to the boy. The boy dropped the sack and took up the pick axe, knuckles white on the handle.

You didn't know the boy's name, but he was brave.

"They're children, you idiots, children!" Ser Wesley screamed from behind the cart at his warriors, "Just kill them, kill the-!"

Kasumi's arrow thunked into the side of the cart and he shut up, ducking low. You looked up to see her standing on the rooftop, notching another arrow, scanning the Sycamore warriors.

The rhyhorn pawed the dirt, rumbling, readying to charge at the boy. One good charge with its heavy stone bulk and vicious horn would tear the boy apart.

But around you the Sycamore warriors began to shift, finding something like courage.

>help the boy
>focus on the Sycamore warriors
>>
>>3343095
>focus on the Sycamore warriors
Damn, this is a tough call. Hopefully the kid can survive while we deal with them.
>>
>>3343095
>focus on the Sycamore warriors
>>
okay, roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>3343138
Obligatory low roll
>>
>>3343152
Oof, okay, writing
>>
Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>3343160
Jeez can I at least roll one more time if no one else is?
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>3343138
Chill a bit on roll timers maybe prof, some of us are playing at work
>>
File: 1526878890513.jpg (82 KB, 620x906)
82 KB
82 KB JPG
>>3343160
>1 minute for rolls
but why?
>>
Rolled 16 (1d100)

Forgot my roll.
>>
The boy was brave, but you weren't here for him. As the rhyhorn charged you turned to face the Sycamore warriors. Turning on your heel you feel the mud shift under you and you unbalance, tripping forward. The swipe of a Sycamore axe snips where your head should have been, and you stumble past him. You strike at the next one, you parries your blow, then turn to parry a thrust at your side.

You were surrounded and fought like a mad meowth to get free, blocking and cutting, stumbling over the mud. Your tunic took a slice across the belly, cold wind fluttering over hot skin, and you stumbled out of the mess, backing into the cart that hid Ser Wesley.

The Sycamore warriors glared at you, menacing forward with weapons raised. You heard the rhyhorn crash into another house, the smash of wood and the crash of a roof collapsing, a plume of dust and ash rising into the sky.

Kasumi hopped from rooftop to rooftop, firing arrows down at the rhyhorn, trying to draw it away.

Ser Johann charged out, scyther by his side, their blades flashing out. Warriors jerked around, stunned and sliced, blood spurting out in silver streaks as the knight and his Pokemon weaved their way between them. He ended his charge in front of you.

"Striding into the middle of an enemy camp and telling them who you are? Bold," Ser Johann said 'bold' the way a teacher would say 'stupid'.

The strike of a sword aimed at Johann's back had him spin, swords clashing, driving the Sycamore blade down into the mud. The warrior gawped at him. Ser Johann almost smiled.

"Go, deal with the knight," he said, kicking the Sycamore warrior back.

You looked for Ser Wesley and saw him run up toward the mines.

>chase Ser Wesley
>stay and help your friends
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>3343185
>*1 minute after the first roll
fixed
>>3343194
>chase Ser Wesley
Give us more than a minute this time, eh?
>>
>>3343203
It's not that he only waits a minute, he just takes the first roll. Which is its own problem, really.
>>
>>3343194
>chase Ser Wesley
>>
okay, writing
>>
"You can deal with this lot?" you ask. Ser Johann's withering frown is your answer. You shake your head. "Sorry." Then you dash after the overseer. You see Kasumi firing arrows and catch a flash of her arbok streaking out of its hiding place to clamp its jaw over a Sycamore warrior's head, but that's all you have time for.

You run, and an orange flash brings your charmander running up beside you. The two of you dash up the slope leading towards the mine, a cave mouth up ahead, a yawning opening that lead to darkness. You could hear Ser Wesley huff and puff.

Stepping into the dark, your charmander's light illuminated the gloom. You heard the tink and crack of pick axes, the grunt of men at work coming from ahead, echoing down the dark tunnel.

"You won't get away with this," the Sycamore knight hissed from the dark.

"Funny, that's my line," you said, "Your tyranny ends today, Ser Wesley, on my honor as a Prince of Arbor and rightful lord of these lands."

"Words mean nothing without the means to back them up," his voice came from around you, you couldn't say where. Your charmander glared into the dark.

You heft your blade. "True, and without your men and your rhyhorn, what are you? A coward skulking in the dark."

"Arrogant boy," he hissed, and you heard running feet approach from the dark. White eyes wild with fear, his mustache mussed, his breastplate jingling. The fire of your charmander's tail made his sword point gleam, plunging toward you out of the darkness of the mine.

The clash of steel reverberated down the mine shaft.

>roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>3343296
>>
Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>3343296
>>
Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>3343296
>>
>>3343310
bad luck

writing
>>
You drive his sword away, the point swishing past your face. Ser Wesley's raticate face snarled at you, baring his front teeth, spitting, pushing you back. Your swords drop low and you push shoulder to shoulder, the knight driving you back.

"A brave boy, but still a boy," the knight said, "I should thank you. I'll have your heads sent to Prince Wulfher and he'll make me a lord."

Your swords flew apart and he kicked you in the shin, the toe shod in iron. You bit down on the pain and swung for his head. Back and forth you fenced in the dark.

A burst of fire caught Ser Wesley on the side of the face and he screamed, clutching at his face, slapping at the flames. Your charmander belched flame at him, driving him away from you, little face intense. His sleeve caught on fire, sword dropping from his hand as he slapped himself to put it out.

You had an opening.

>take the knight prisoner
>kill him with a thrust
>have your charmander finish him

(no roll for this one)
>>
>>3343352
>kill him with a thrust
The fate of all men like him in our lands
>>
>>3343352
>>kill him with a thrust
>>
>>3343352
>only taking the first roll
>again
Wish you told us it would be this way in the OP

>have your charmander finish him
Honorless men deserve honorless deaths.
>>
writing
>>
>>3343310
>>3343317
>>3343327
>>3343332
Can we do best of the first three? Because if you're going to do just the first 1d100, you might as roll yourself.
>>
You drive your blade down the throat of his breastplate, cutting off his screams. Ser Wesley collapsed to his knees, eyes rolling into the back of his head, face smouldering. You drew your blade out and he fell face down, twitching, sleeve crispy. You huffed, breathing hard. You cleaned your sword before sheathing it. Your charmander beams up at you, and you stroke his head, his tail whipping side to side. Without him you might have died today.

Faces came out of the dark, the sound of chains clinking against each other. Slaves shuffled forward, faces hungry, eyes large. One of them reached out with his bound wrists.

"Lief?" he said. It took you a moment to recognize him, he had lost so much weight.

"Doctor Treno?" you gasped.

"It is you," the prisoner's lip wobbled, tears flooding his eyes. He reached for you but his chains, binding him to the others, held him back. You stepped over and pulled the man into a hug. "You're alive," he wept.

"You are too," you said, chest surging with a strong feeling. His limbs were weak even as he hugged you with all his strength.

"You've grown," he said, blinking away tears.

"Who is it, Doc?" another slave asked, "Who is this kid?"

Doctor Treno wiped away a tear. "This is Prince Lief of Oak."

The declaration sent a gasp among the enslaved prisoners.

You looked them over, their desperate faces starting to flood with hope, robbing them of their hunger and their pain. One of them fell to his knees weeping.

"You've come to save us," a prisoner burbled, "To set us free!"

>Set them free
>I'm just here to kill Sycamores
>>
>>3343452
>Set them free
>>
>>3343452
>Set them free
>>
one sec
>>
okay back and writing
>>
You look to each of them one by one, each man raising their head. Something painful lodged in your chest, your throat tight. How could they look at you with so much hope? How could you do anything else but help them?

You grasp Doctor Treno by the shoulder. "Follow me," you said, "I'll get you out of here."

The doctor lead the other prisoners behind you, your charmander by your side. You lead them out of the dark and into the light, flinching against the sunshine. You looked down onto High Rock.

The rhyhorn was wrapped in Kasumi's arbok's embrace, squeezing tight, holding it in place. Kasumi dropped from the rooftop with her long slender knife, thrusting it through the eye. It gave a last thrash in her arbok's grip before going limp. Kasumi jerked out her blade, flicked off the blood as she whisked her blade around.

Ser Johann and his scyther stood in a circle of dead warriors, the rest backing away from them. The scyther's wings clicked out, buzzing behind it as it took a fighting stance in the mud. Ser Johann raised his blade in two hands. The warriors backed away further, swearing and gasping.

Doctor Treno clutched your side.

"My lord," he croaked, "What will you do?"

>demand the Sycamore warriors surrender
>drive them from the town
>>
>>3343549
>demand the Sycamore warriors surrender
>>
>>3343549
>drive them from the town
>>
>>3343549
Kill em all
>>
>>3343549
>Kill em all
>>
okay, writing
>>
>>3343549
>>demand the Sycamore warriors surrender
>>
"Avenge my family," you say, drawing your sword and striding down, your charmander bounding ahead of you.

Kasumi looked up from the dead rhyhorn, squatting on its side, her arbok slithering out from under it. Concern flashed into a grin as she hopped down. She flicked her dagger around, whistling as you joined Ser Johann. The Sycamore warriors backed away. The scyther hissed, green plates gleaming, white wings buzzing as it hovered up off the ground.

"Your orders, my prince?" Johann asked, expression dark.

You looked at the thugs and bullies in Sycamore armor. What they had done to the old man in the mud, groping the woman, and the things you had only heard they had done. They looked mean and frightened, a little slack jawed as they waited with terrified anticipation.

"Kill them," you said, and Ser Johann did smile, a grim, wolfish thing.

You charged together, his scyther cutting through the air in front of you. Some turned to run, others held their ground. You felt all your fury, hate, and pain erupt from your chest in a wordless shout, your sword held high.

You slaughtered them in the mud of High Rock, and those that ran you cut down, chasing them to the gates. The scyther caught up with those running too fast for you to catch, his blades slicing through the back of their necks. You stopped at the wooden gates panting hard, blood up to your elbow, dripping from your blade, face tight with rage. You swallowed, suddenly thirsty, and slumped forward, sword dipping.

The boy with the raspy voice limped up to you carrying a canteen. "Here," he said.

Behind him Kasumi was unlocking the chains of the prisoners, Ser Johann cleaning his blade.

You just drank the water, gulping it down until the canteen was empty. You wobbled.

"You saved my life," he said, offering you his hand, "I'm Rebecca."

What?

You looked closer at the 'boy', or the boyish girl. Between her husky, raspy voice, her short hair, and her miner's smock she didn't look much like a girl.

"Lief," you said, taking the hand, "You saved mine too."

>shake her hand
>kiss it
>>
>>3343661
>shake her hand
We ain't no pedos
>>
>>3343661
>shake her hand
Let's not make it weird
>>
>>3343661
>>shake her hand
Why would we do anything else.
>>
>>3343661
>>kiss it
Contrarian vote go!
>>
okay writing
>>
You grip it firm and she grins. She was your age, you think, and even if she was skinny her grip was strong.

"Nice to meet ya, Lief," she said. The two of you walked back to where the prisoners were being freed.

You looked over them as they marvelled at their unbound wrists.

You go to Doctor Treno, who was rubbing his wrists. "No one is a slave in Arbor," you said. Ser Johann nodded in approval, turning away to hide a grudging smile. You look around. "You're all free now, free from Sycamore tyranny."

But there was no big cheer. The peasants that surrounded you looked frightened. Frightened by the violence, frightened by your retainers, frightened by you.

"What happens when they come back?" the young woman that had been groped said, "The three of you can't protect us against their army."

"They'll kill us all, hang us for treason," a miner said.

"You've been given your freedom," Kasumi snapped.

"The freedom to be starved and hunted," he said, face white with terror, "What kind of freedom is that?"

"The bleating of a terrified mareep," Ser Johann said with bitter amusement, a hand to the head of his scyther.

"Thank you, my prince," said Doctor Treno, a kind smile on his face.

Your jaw clenched. The people of High Rock weren't wrong to be frightened. Sycamore was ruthless. They looked to you, some with blame, some with anger, a few with hope. You had changed their fate through your actions, but changed it to what, exactly?

>High Rock must defend itself
>High Rock must be abandoned
>>
>>3343711
>High Rock must be abandoned
There's no way we could defend this place from the full might of the Sycamores. Maybe we could close off the mine though, to deprive them of some resources.
>>
>>3343711
>>High Rock must defend itself
We're not cucks, reclaim your birthright.
>>
>>3343711
>>High Rock must defend itself
>>
I really don't see how we could defend against their army. These resources are important to them and they'll devote a lot of troops to retaking it. Not to mention that they could easily just starve us out with a siege.
>>
>>3343711
>>High Rock must be abandoned
>>
>>3343711
>High Rock must be abandoned
Told y'all we should've prepped first.
>>
okay, writing
>>
"You'll have to abandon High Rock," you said, "Head to the mountains, run to the hills. Find a safe haven away from the Sycamores."

"Abandon our homes?" the woman gasped.

"And live at the mercy of feral Pokemon and murderous outlaws?" the miner snarled, "How can you say that?"

"Do you have a better idea, Mark?" Rebecca said, "Are you willing to pick up a sword and fight? What other choice do we have?" The girl demonstrated just that, by picking up an axe from the mud and holding it up overhead. Mud dripped off the half-moon blade. "Fight, run, or die," she said, "I know what I'm going to do." She thumbed her nose and grinned, axe over her shoulder.

"Take the swords and armor, supply yourselves well," Ser Johann said, "It isn't easy, but you can survive in the wilds."

"It won't be forever," said Kasumi, "We will drive out the Sycamore usurpers and restore peace to the land."

"Says who?" Mark said.

You step forward. "On my honor as the Prince of Oak, I swear it," you said.

Glances flashed around the worried crowd. mutters of surprise, whispers of the prince of oak.

"You really are the Prince of Oak?" Rebecca said, gawping with shock. You nodded, smiling. She went to a knee in front of you. "W-well yer princeship, if you'll have me, I'm willing to fight." The miner girl bowed her head, grasping the axe hard. You looked to your people. Ser Johann gave a blank stare while Kasumi shrugged.

>accept her
>refuse her
>>
>>3343805
>>accept her
>>
>>3343805
>accept her
>>
>>3343805
Accept
>>
>>3343805
>accept her
>>
You needed warriors, and she had stood her ground against a rhyhorn, against the Sycamore warriors that had occupied her town. She waited for you to say something, coughed.

"Okay," you said, "Yeah."

You had seen your father accept a new retainer into his household, you remembered the forms. You touched her shoulder and she raised her head. You gestured for her to stand. You kissed one cheek, then the other. Rebecca's face went bright red, then you pulled her into a hug, slapping her back.

"Welcome to my household," you said, and let her go.

Kasumi helped some of the freed slaves take the armor from the dead Sycamores, fit it on, take their weapons and arm themselves. Her arbok slithered through the mud, tongue flicking out over dead bodies, tasting smells on the air.

"Come here boy," Ser Johann said to Rebecca.

"I'm a girl," she grumped as he took her to a dead body. They took a breast plate pressed with the Sycamore mark and she strapped it on. "Shame about this mark," she said, drumming the Sycamore crest on her chest.

"Arrows don't care about heraldry," Ser Johann replied. She swung the axe one way then the other. Ser Johann frowned. "And we'll teach you how to use that properly."

She lowered the axe.

Doctor Treno found you sitting on a rock by the opening of the mine, patting your charmander. Your charmander preened against your touch. You couldn't stay here long, you would need to head back into the wilderness, and soon. "You've done something here, my boy, started something," he said with a huff, sitting next to you. You looked over High Rock and its muddy streets.

"What will you do now, Doctor Treno?" you asked.

He looked to the buzzing crowd, the frantic people. "Go with them, I think. They'll need someone to guide them, and I know the geography of the mountains from my books." He looked nervous, skin pale from his captivity, skin loose from the weight he had lost.

>I could use your help
>Good luck, they'll need you
>>
>>3343903
>Good luck, they'll need you
We already have an authority figure, they need one more than we do.
>>
>>3343903
>Good luck, they'll need you
I'd love to keep him but those people would be fucked without him
>>
>>3343903
>>Good luck, they'll need you
>>
>>3343903
>>Good luck, they'll need you
>>
okay writing
>>
"If you're going with them, good luck," you said, "They'll need your help. The Tyran Mountains are dangerous. Watch out for the Bandit King, he's as murderous as a primeape with less manners. He deals with slavers in the Dratini sea, kidnaps people and sells them off for coin. You could end up in Djabeer or Ostarbor, or just dead in a good Arbor forest. Either way, watch out for him."

"You're becoming a man much like your father," the doctor said, "Be sure you don't lose that Oak quality of justice, honesty, and mercy. The people of our country need more of that in their lives. And I long for the day you drive Sycamore from your father's castle and reclaim our home."

You nod. You longed for it too. Longed for it so hard it hurt your heart.

"You should know, Prince Wulfher is in the heartland fighting," he said, "He has left Skyglade to his brother, Culdon. He oversees Sycamore rule here, Ser Wesley was one of his creatures. All the good fighting men are busy trying to win their prince a crown, all he has left are hired thugs and bullies, keeping people in line with fear and violence. Murder in the night and abductions, even of the nobility. No one loves him."

You process that information.

Not everyone from High Rock decides to leave, but most gather to depart. Rebecca said goodbye to her sister, exchanging a hug. Doctor Treno wore a good coat and carried a stoat walking stick, some of the vibrancy returning to his jowl heavy face. You bid your old tutor farewell and he waved, leading the men up into the mountains.

You remained at the gates of High Rock with your retainers, Ser Johann, Kasumi, and now Rebecca and her axe, your Pokemon at your side.

"This was a good start," Kasumi said, "But what next?"

A good question, but for now you turned back to the mountains, back to another hidden camp to plan, and prepare your next move.
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wARiOb80Zr0

taking a break. I'll let you guys know if I decide to stop.
>>
thoughts so far?
>>
>>3344118
It's good so far, storywise; I still feel like that 50/50 first-come-first-serve rolling model is a poor one.
>>
File: Pokemon_Nobunaga_Box.png (134 KB, 256x228)
134 KB
134 KB PNG
>>3344118
Breddy gud, I've been interested in what an ancient world of Pokemon looked like.

One small piece of constructive criticism is that it just feels like Game of Thrones with Pokemon slapped on top. Do you plan for Leif to obtain wild Pokemon down the line? Because I think that could make this setting more distinctly feel like Pokemon, even if in a pre-Pokeball era. I was partially hoping we could repurpose the rhyhorn for our personal use.
>>
>>3344118
Nice setting, first come first served dice is a terrible system. Best of three is much better.
>>
Okay, back
>>
The higher reaches of the Tyran mountains were always cold, and winter lingered into spring. Up on the reaches afforded a view that could only be called awe-inspiring. It looked out over the valleys and glades of the west, its teaming forests green with spring growth, to the farms on the eastern outskirts with the towns and villages there, over to the edge of the western horizon and the bright waters of the Dratini Sea, sparkling like a line of precious jewels.

Pidgey and spearow rose from the canopy of the forests, duckletts marking their return from the south in flying v formation overhead, back from further than even Djabeer. You saw a great herd of deerling and sawsbuck break across a verdant green field, bounding into and out of view in a rolling wave of brain fur and leaf crowned antlers.

Your father's land, your land. Had anyone from your House ever seen it from this view?

A cold wind whipped your face as the clash of steel rang behind you.

Rebecca yelled in frustration, her crescent moon axe carving arcs as she charged at Johann. He dipped back, twisted in place, did nothing to stop her from striking him but move his body.

"Fight back!" she spat, red cheeked and sweating despite the chill.

"Until you learn how to hit me, I don't have to," he said. The wind stirred his red cloak, the rest of him still. She gave a frustrated growl and launched at him. They had been training for days.

"It's a beautiful view," Kasumi said, her legs dangling over the edge, smiling, "But we can't stay up here forever."

You nod. Your belly growled. Your last meal had been a bellsprout stir fry, you missed the taste of real meat.

"I was planning to go to Farborough and scout for information, you can come with me if you want. But its a stealth mission, no standing in a square and telling everyone who you are."

"I'm not stupid," you said, ignoring the puberty whine in your voice.

She grinned. "Oh, let's just call you 'hot tempered' instead. Or young."

The sparring ended between Rebecca and Ser Johann. The girl bent double, gasping for breath, while Johann walked over.

"It's dangerous to go to town, my prince," Johann said, "I plan to take the girl down to Bone Valley, we may find her a pokemon there that will bond with her. Maybe a graveller will fit, a match for her thick head. You're welcome to come with us."

Kasumi shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, then looked back over the edge of the mountain, smiling whistfully.

>go with Kasumi
>go with Ser Johann
>>
>>3344243
>go with Ser Johann
Charmander needs to git gud.
>>
>>3344243
>go with Ser Johann
>>
>>3344243
>>go with Kasumi
>>
okay, writing
>>
"I'll go with Ser Johann," you said, "And help Rebecca find a Pokemon. I wouldn't want to be a burden on you."

Kasumi smiled. "You're never a burden," she said. She hopped up and stretched, arms over head, up on her toes. "Well I'll get going at first light, so I should get some rest."

For dinner you have the last of a bellsprout and oddish mix, and sleep under the stars. Morning comes and Kasumi departs. "Good luck, stay safe," you say as she hefts her pack, heading down a trail. She grins and waves.

"You too, be careful," she said before bounding away, disappearing down a forest trail.

Ser Johann lead the way to Bone Valley.

It was a few days travel in the heart of the Tyran Mountains, an arid patch in the green growth of the west. Nothing grew there, it was a long canoe shape from one end to the other, a maze of jagged rocks jutting up from the barren earth and the bones of dead Pokemon. From the path you entered you could see from one end to the other, but only just, and as you descended the size of it grew until you couldn't see past the tallest rocks, jagged hills in a dead land. Grass grew sparse until it became sandy underfoot.

This was a place things came to die.

Rebecca kept her axe in hand, looking about uncertainly. This wasn't a place you made a habit of coming to.

A fearow looked down from a sharp rock point, hungry eyes following you as you came into its home. The rotting corpse of a sawsbuck lay by the trail.

"What do you expect to find here?" she asked Ser Johann's back, the knight staying ahead, staying silent. He didn't answer. Her raspy voice carried over the dead valley. "What kind of Pokemon even live here?"

She looked ill.

The lack of shade made even a spring sun hot, and the smell of rotting flesh didn't help. You passed the skeleton of a pinser picked clean.

Even you were starting to develop an eeirie feeling. Your charmander grabbed the back of your leg.

Ser Johann dropped his pack in the shadow of a rocky spire, his scyther landing on its tip, keeping watch over the valley.

"From here on you walk alone," he said, "And don't come back without a Pokemon."

Rebecca's cheeks bulged. "What?" she said.

"Take water, return at nightfall," he said, throwing her a canteen, "Be careful. Few things live here but what does are dangerous."

She grit her teeth, looking unhappy but she nodded. "Okay," she slung the canteen over her shoulder, "I won't fail." She hefted her axe over her shoulder, striding into the rocky desert.

>go with her
>wait with Ser Johann
>>
>>3344320
>go with her
Training for Charmander.
>>
>>3344320
>Set out in a different direction and search for new Pokemon.

We should train Charmander, true, but Rebecca needs to grow on her own as well. We shouldn't help her, but rather set out on our own path. Johann can come with us if he wants.
>>
>>3344335
Changing to this.
>>
okay, writing
>>
>>3344320
>go with her
>>
You watch her go, the girl whistling a miner's song as she did, then turned to Ser Johann.

"I need to do my own kind of training," you said, scratching your charmander's head where he pressed it to your leg.

"It can't hurt, but as I said, be careful," he said, "I'll remain here so that you all know where I will be. Take care of each other."

You smile at your charmander as you walk in a different direction. Your charmander might not like the surrounding environment, but he did like the heat. It had been a hard winter for him.

It wasn't just about growing stronger, but maybe finding another Pokemon. Your father and brother had both had more than one in their service. You could do the same. Of course winning a Pokemon's loyalty wasn't easy, they only respected the strong, and most Pokemon that weren't bred in captivity were caught in a team, men with nets and spears with herdier or poochyena or some other kind of hound for help. A dangerous event that you had never joined, you had been too young.

You walked for hours without seeing anything, take the occasional gulp of water, sweat dripping down your face.

You saw something up ahead, framed by two spires leaning toward one another and touching at the tip. A shimmer that surrounded a shape.

>roll 1d100
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>3344356
>>
Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>3344356
>>
>>3344360
boom, okay, wasn't expecting that
>>
>>3344360
Oh shit!
>>
The shimmer formed into an image and you heard a humming, a familiar song you had never heard before. Was the heat getting to you? The image became a feminine shape. A girl, no, a woman. You couldn't see her face but felt a strengthening desire. Did you know her? You wanted to. A breeze brought a flower scent alongside the song, the humming becoming a gentle 'la la la' that faded into a giggle.

What could a woman be doing out here? You staggered toward her.

The shape became blurred by the shimmer, and then the shimmer broke apart and you found yourself alone between the rocky arch. You blink sunspots from your eyes. A mirage? You took a drink of water, your charmander sniffing the air beside you.

Whatever it was, it must have-

The earth shook beneath your feet and the roar that came was either the beast, the explosion of dirt that sent you flying, or both, maybe with your own scream mixed in. You hit the ground, rolling onto your back, panting and staring upward, inhaled dirt scratching your throat and stinging your eyes.

The stone length of an onyx reared overhead, its shadow blanketing you from the sun. Tall as a tower, it lowered its head with a snort, its snake like body looming, its eyes wide with fury.

You understood why some ancients had worshipped beasts like the onix as gods. You looked for your charmander. You were separated by the onix, dirt crumbing off its stone hide. Your charmander sneezed as it got up, blinking dirt out of its eyes.

You climbed to your feet and drew your sword, coughing.

A living avalanche reared back, blotting out the sun....
-
that's all folks. see you next week for the next thread!
>>
But I'll hang around for a bit.

How are the characters so far?
>>
>>3344360
>>3344381
I rolled dice and changed tabs before I saw the number. Hah.
>>
>>3344385
The characters are solid but meaningful interactions among the main cast are kinda rare so far
>>
>>3344385
You should consider sitting down Lief with Kasumi and Ser Johann and having an extended conversation with each of them one on one. Might help form a bond more. Way I see it so far Kasumi is an older close friend of Lief's while Ser Johann is like an older father figure?
>>
>>3344405
>>3344397
that was going to happen here if you wanted but you guys decided to have Lief go off exploring. I'll try to still work it in.
>>
also do you have a clear idea about what the characters actually look like?
>>
>>3344118
It's good
>>
>>3344385
you should be more confident. The quest and surface level writing is good.

unfortunately none has really been characterized much so far, we'd need to talk to them more.
So far it's mostly just decision A backed by char A, decision B backed by char B.
It's too rough. I could write more were I not on my phone
>>
>>3344381
A Nat 100... gets us an Onix? Really? Not even a Steelix? I thought for sure we'd be getting a Larvitar out of that.

>>3344774
This.
>>
>>3344809
Hopefully onix will be more impressive here than its efforts in either the games or its appearances in the various manga. But yes, an onix is a bit disappointing.

I was holding for maybe a Gible, but larvitarwould have been good too. Either way, RIP
>>
>>3344809
I love larvitar too but I'm not gonna complain about a 30 foot rock snake, especially in this sort of setting.
>>
>>3344812
>>3344820
I get that stats don't mean everything here, but surely rarity plays a part. For a Nat Fucking 100, it ought to be something truly incredible. A pseudo, a fossil, a shiny. Shit, if it's going to be an Onix it ought to be The Crystal Onix.
>>
>>3344825
nat 100 is still just a 1/100
if we rolled a d10000 and critted i would agree
>>
>>3344855
>>3344825
While I agree that a completely unique individual is overkill for a random search, it's probably fair to say that unless onix is impossibly rare/this one is unnaturally powerful, its a little meh for nat 100. Regardless, we move on
>>
>>3344863
As far as I'm concerned, a shitty rolling system is one strike, and a completely anticlimactic and boring result off of a Nat 100 is two.
>>
>>3344881
The dice result might've gone toward the mirage woman instead of the Pokemon encounter.
>>
>>3344825
think about a realistic ecosystem
the larger an animal is the rarer they get.
it wouldn't be sustainable otherwise.
An Onix is freakin huge. It's mere weight gives it incredible force.
I rather get punched by an machok than tail whipped by an onix.
>>
>>3344891
Yes, if this pokemon was not a setting where much smaller pokemon rein uncontested as king. Garchomp is literally supersonic, dragonite can bathe in magma and not give a fuck, the list goes on. Just being big, solid and reasonably quick isn't anything near enough
>>
>>3344891
Also onix isn't actually that heavy, relatively speaking. It's only 200 kilos. Snorlax is over double its weight
>>
For the record, it's not great that there was suddenly a three year timeskip and that we a) couldn't catch any more Pokemon during that time and b) couldn't evolve our charmander into a charmeleon during that time.

>>3344891
I'm sorry, what predators does Onix have to worry about? What dietary limits does it need to concern itself with? It's a bunch of rocks that eats other rocks and also dirt. It doesn't have anybody going after it, it can eat whatever Graveller it pleases. Onix are like elephants without humans driving them to extinction for their ivory. They're big, there are plenty of them, and they spend all their time eating.

>>3344886
If so, that's still pretty shitty. Our reward for a Nat 100, then, is a mirage of a lady that we have no context or understanding of, followed immediately by falling into a big pit.
>>
Beyond the area limitations of what we could catch, I think y’all are forgetting that to catch anything in this universe it must be done bodily. The opportunity of getting an Onix must be extremely rare based on their size, makeup, and the lack of adequate capture mechanisms such as pokeballs. This is not even considering if QM normalizes the Onix’s mass to what a giant stack of stones should be while maintaining its mass.
>>
Fingers crossed for sword attacks counting as steel type
>>
>>3344907
>>3344917
if Pokémon were real it would be a hellworld. My bad for not phrasing it more properly. (again, I'm on my phon until I get home so I answered shortly)
It would have to be mended into a semblance of realistic fashion.
and I admit I didn't know about onix in game weight

so let me change what I said:
Im just saying that I can see how it can be a big deal to tame an onix.
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>>3344957
*while maintaining its mobility
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>>3344957
Plus an Onix would basically be a living siege engine
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>>3344381
For he IS the Kwisatz Haderach!
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I think people are being a tad dramatic. This is literally our second pokemon, the quest has barely begun. I think expecting a pseud this early in the game is a tad unrealistic, and calling a relatively balanced decision like Onix a "strike" against the quest is just plain wrong. That said, I do hope the Onix is a shiny, just for the sake of being special.

There will be plenty of time for overpowering force, and I'm alright with the OP choosing to take it slow for now.
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Onix is a great catch for an early game 100. Has the potential for mega evolution too. I'm happy with the find, and I rolled the 100.
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>>3344917
>>3344907
If we can get a steelix I'm happy enough, plus we can always try and kill it, we dont have to catch it. Is there a limit on the number of pokemon we can have anyway?
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Imagine being a guard and just watching a dude with a fucking dragon and huge ass snake made of pure rock come to your walls and just destroy everything. Onyx or steeling is akin to a god here
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>>3349852
I believe OP actually stated that at some point the Onyx-line were in fact regarded as godlike things. Let's all just be thankful that the more...synthetic of pokemon aren't going to be involved, because just about anything with steel typing at 2nd/3rd evolution could be assumed to have power enough to level a village in minutes
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>>3349970
Are we definitely not getting a steelix
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>>3350057
well unless OP pull fiat, no. We'd need a metal coat for that, and unless that just means we give an Onyx some armor, then nah. We'd also have to trade it
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>>3350068
What about if we dunked it in molten steel
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>>3350077
>>3350068
In lore, Steelix is formed wild when Onix live for a longass time, rather than any other stimulus. This onix might be on the verge of that (relatively speaking) and therefore evolve in the next while
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>>3350079
if we manage to get lucky enough for a Steelix all we'd have to do to destroy the sycamores is just to let it dig entire tunnels under their castle and have it use magnitude/earthquake. All the tunnels cave in, and there's essentially a sinkhole under their home. If you've ever seen a building blasted down by its foundation, that'd be the result
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>>3350107
Couldn't an onyx do that?
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>>3346792
This is why I stopped voting. People are going to metagame, there's no avoiding it, especially in Pokémon quests.

On an unrelated note, why do you need a name?
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>>3350145
while technically yes, probably not as efficiently or to the scale as a Steelix would in the same amount of time
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>>3350606
>>3346792
I think it's just onyx in this setting and probably real life would be a ridiculous force of nature. But in the games they were always underwhelming so you'd be hard pressed to find someone who has onyx as a favourite.
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>>3350867
Onix just evolves into steelix later it’s not a big deal
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>>3350606
Whoops, its a holdover from a different quest. NationsRP, you should go check it out!

>>3351302
Yeah, this is probably true.
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>>3350068
I highly doubt the trading part of it will be kept in the quest, that would be stupid. Odds are it's possible to evolve an onyx by coating it in metal, just gotta figure out how. Either way though an onyx is a great find, anons are getting so hung up on game stats in a setting that distegards that stuff.
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>>3350867
I'm pretty sure it could still do it just fine though
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>>3352311
OP fiat means that would be up to him, so that post was intentionally subjective
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>>3352322
Your face is subjective
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>>3352426
You brought this on yourself
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I hope we get a second chance with Violet so she can be Leif's mommy gf.

Or Kasumi if we feel like riceburning.
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new thread >>3361159
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>>3361164
WOO!!!



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