I wanted to do a Mystery-Dungeon style fic, and decided to play on peace and war. For most chapters, I will have at least one theme-tune, and so the one for this chapter is "FF7 Soundtrack: Judgement Day".
I'm going to try and fit in as many FF(7) tracks as I can into this story XD
The grey sky was awash with vapour and smoke trails from missiles streaking in mighty arcs, to smash into the little town like godly fists. The town itself was huddled on a cliff; a crowd of slated roofs that crouched behind a strong-looking, but undefended wall. There came a high-pitched screech, and a projectile dropped inside the settlement. The ground shook and a resounding crash reverberated around the surrounding area. A few pieces of debris spiralled skywards, to patter down in the river that separated the attackers and the besieged. The river itself was clean-looking and nice, but when you factored in the rusted hulks of ships and floating, bullet-riddled corpses of pokemon, the whole place looked foreboding. Atop the cliff opposite the town, another cluster of derelict-looking houses sat; hunched like crows. This had once been part of 'St. Garden' town, but over time, the cliffs had widened and the bridge connecting the two halves had fallen away. This section of St. Garden had simply been left to fall into disrepair, and this was where the unknown force had set up shop, so-to-speak.
They had come from the sea, a few days before, and landed on this side of the river. They did not have one particular type, but seemed to be an organised; multi-elemental army. They had demanded money, food and surrender, and when Garden had refused; they had set up their massive, super-heavy artillery piece and proceeded to bomb the town.
But the town had one last hope. Their pleas for help had been heard, and the UPDF were on their way. The United Pokemon Defence Force was the Territorial Army for the region of Kind, and they protected it fiercely. However; the lush, fertile land had attracted many invasions, and their ranks had been thinned by war. They had taken to recruiting young or weak Pokemon, and training them in the field, to boulster their numbers.
Some townspeople had objected to the scheme, claiming it would take too long for a large enough force to be dispatched and defeat these invaders. The mayor of St.Garden had told the town to be patient, but some of the younger, braver Pokemon of the town had held a town meeting of their own. They selected six candidates, who were stronger than the rest, and assigned them a mission: destroy the gun.
And so they obeyed. Unknown to the enemy watchers, a rotting old rowboat, painted black like the night, slipped across the river and crunched up the pebble beach a few feet. The black tarpaulin that covered its occupants was thrown back, and they revealed themselves: a Rattata with cameo paint smeared over its bulging cheeks, a small but determined-looking Pidgey in a beret, a dark green Treecko with a black balaclava and a katana sheathed across his back. There was a small, terrified-looking Dratini, too, and beside her was her friend, the totally unfazed-seeming Bagon, who wore a purple cloak around his shoulders. The final member of the insertion team was the first to leap from the rowboat: A tiny, determined-looking Cyndaquil. The flames on his back were little more than a glow, so as not to alert the sentries to their position, and even then he had shrugged on a black cloak over the top of them.
"Sssh! Stop!" he hissed, suddenly "everyone drop!"
The townsfolk obliged, quickly flattening themselves to the ground. A moment later, a search-light swept the pebbles. It passed over them without stopping, and they leaped up and ran forwards, to the cliff, where they flattened themselves as the cone of illumination passed over their previous position again.
"Let's go, the gate to the cliff path is this way…" the little fire-type declared. He led them west, following the curve of the cliff, until they reached a chain-link fence that surrounded the bottom of a small footpath. A single guard house had been erected beside it, and a sentry snoozed inside.
"Treecko?" asked Cyndaquil. The grass-type nodded and there was a hiss of steel as his Katana was drawn. He slipped inside the guard house, and seconds later, the Nuzleaf was dead. Treecko emerged with the key, which he slipped into his leaders paw.
"…so yeah, I told him…" a muffled voice said. They all spun round and saw a pair of guards returning from their patrol, behind them on the beach: A Nuzleaf and a Machop.
"Rush them!" Cyndaquil ordered. Pidgey and Treecko tackled the muscular Machop, and beheaded him before he could even realise he was under attack. The Nuzleaf opened his mouth to shout the alarm, half-drawing a revolver from his green cloak, when a spear imbedded itself in his throat. His planned roar came out as a hoarse rasping noise.
"…alarm…" he managed, struggling with the weapon in his neck. Bagon ripped it free and then finished the injured grass-type with a blow from the haft of his weapon. His family came from a long line of fishing-boat owners, and as such they took an interest in spears and rods. This was one such spear; borrowed from his parents' living room. The Machop was unarmed, but the gun which the Nuzleaf had been about to draw was fully loaded. Rattata took this weapon and held it as though it were a rifle; it was so big in proportion to him. The attackers did not react at all to the bloody deaths they had so far inflicted: these soldiers had committed worse atrocities with their cannon.
"There might be more guards down here…" Cyndaquil hissed.
"Maybe we should hold up the attack and sweep the beach" whispered Rattata, nervously fingering the trigger of his Revolver. Bagon snorted, nastily;
"Don't be stupid, Ratter." He laughed "We can't waste any time"
"Don't call me stupid, you inbred arrogant twerp." Ratter hissed. Bagon stiffened and clutched his spear.
"Want to call me that again?"
"Both of you shut up!" Cyndaquil ordered "We've got a mission to do and we don't need you fighting."
Ratter and Bagon glared daggers at one another then looked away. Rattata was the butt of most of Bagon's jokes, because he was from a poor farming family, whereas Bagon's parents were the richest in all of St.Garden.
"Right" Cyndaquil muttered, after taking a breath "we're going to need this beach secure, so that we can escape this way after the cannon is destroyed. Pidgey, stay here and keep watch, and kill any guards that come down here."
The brown-feathered bird nodded, expression serious, and went to sit in the guard hut. Cyndaquil smiled, satisfied, and turned to the gate, key in hand. It turned smoothly in the rusted lock, and the gate swung open of its own accord.
"Bagon, Treecko; take point" he ordered "Dratini and Rattata at the rear, I'll go in the center."
No-one complained. Although he wasn't the toughest of the bunch, he was the most tactical, and had a quiet, inner strength that allowed him to stay calm in dangerous situations. He was a born leader, that's what his parents had used to stay. Now they were dead; killed in the blast of one of those mighty shells. It had been a terrible event, but he was done grieving, and had decided to repay the debt by killing these monsters that called themselves an army. Armies should protect people was his opinion, but this one was slaying them like common bandits might, except on a larger scale. Cyndaquil was not armed, so he scanned the area beyond the gate. Against the natural wall provided by the cliff were a couple of bolt-action rifles, with attached bayonets: obviously put there for the observer in the guardhouse. Cyndaquil took one, weighed it in his paws and sighted down its barrel. He had practise with rifles, his parents had owned a shooting club. These were crude and poorly-maintained, but this one would do for now. He berated himself for not bringing one of the ones which had survived the explosion intact, but retained his self-control.
"Let's move in" he whispered, the urge to avenge his parents rising to the surface of his mind again. The five of them crept onwards, up the grassy path.
The signs of enemy control here were evident. Where the path narrowed dangerously, a steel guardrail had been sunk into the edge of the cliff, to prevent accidents. They followed the path up to a flat patch of ground, where the route curved round, and they met a rock wall. There was no time to rest, so they continued to head round up the path.
"Who the hell are you?" a voice barked "Halt!"
They whirled, to see a figure atop the rock wall where the path curved round. The figure was flanked by a pair of Charmanders, and their tail flames illuminated him: a muscular Torchic, with a hefty machine gun cradled in his wings. Both his accomplices were equipped with rifles similar to the one Cyndaquil carried. There was an almost comical moment of awkward silence, then something must've clicked in the Torchic's mind.
"ALARM!" he bawled "Kill them; INTRUDERS!"
Both the Charmanders raised their rifles, barrels glinting in the moonlight, and fired a pair of shots. One blew a fist-sized crater in the rock beside Cyndaquil; the other shot blew out Treecko's elbow. Blood, bright and crimson, splashed the grass and the grass-type swordsman fell with a grunt of pain.
"Return fire!" ordered Cyndaquil "Kill them!"
Rattata raised the revolver, and barked out a shot that smashed into the leg of one of the Charmanders. The other one fired back and the round barely missed Bagon.
"Screw you guys!" the Dragon type snarled "I'm outta here!"
"No!" shouted Cyndaquil, but his order fell on deaf ears. Bagon broke cover from the boulder that they huddled behind and sprinted down the path at a speed that seemed impossible to one with such stumpy legs. A few shots chased after him, but he made it through the gate without injury.
"Coward!" Spat Ratter. By now, the Torchic had begun to return fire. Automatic rounds pelted the boulder, spraying chips of rock and moss everywhere. Somewhere above them, in the base, an alarm began to hoot.
"We've got to get out of here now!" Cyndaquil growled. Then he had an idea: "Dratini, can you use Twister?"
"Yes, but…it's not a very powerful one. I'm pretty weak at attacking…" she stammered. Cyndaquil smiled.
"It doesn't have to be strong; they're on the edge of a cliff! Ratter, give her some covering fire!"
The normal type nodded and leapt from their cover; lying prone on the floor and firing a few shots at their opponents. Dratini's eyes glowed a menacing red, and the wind picked up. A round just missed her right ear, but she didn't flinch. She concentrated her fury and fear into the very air around her, and the wind, which was visible due to the small bits of debris it carried, began to swirl around the Torchic and his allies, and they stopped firing in fear. Torchic gave a frightened squawk as his gun was torn from his grasp. The injured Charmander growled in fear as he was scooped up and flung from the edge. The Torchic and his remaining bodyguard followed suit. After half a minute, the wind dropped to normal levels again.
"Well done, Dratini!" Cyndaquil beamed.
"Thanks…" she replied, weakly. Cyndaquil suddenly remembered Treecko. He turned to see the grass type standing again.
"Can you continue?" he asked his silent friend. Treecko had wrapped a bandage from somewhere inside his robe around the wounded elbow, and he gave a couple of experimental jabs with his other arm to test balance. Then he nodded grimly.
"Good, let's go." He said. Treecko was a tough guy. He was Cyndaquil's right hand man, and a better swordfighter he had never seen. He wore a tattered black cloak or robe, and a hood and balaclava over his face. His past was mysterious, but he had been abandoned as a baby, with just the sword he carried wrapped in that tattered old cloak he wore. Cyndaquil's parents had taken him in, and as such he had served them loyally. He was silent most of the time, but could speak if he wanted to. The other two he had known vaguely before the attack, but hadn't really spoken to them. Pidgey was a complete stranger who had been drafted in from the mail office and Bagon's family owned an old mansion on the outskirts of St.Garden. Where Cyndaquil's family had been modestly rich, the Bagon family flaunted their wealth. Doubtless Bagon would still claim that the attack was all down to his bravery when he got back, despite the fact that he had run off.
The group had gone no more than three steps from their rock, when a razor-sharp leaf scythed past. They began to fire up at the two enemy Pokemon who confronted them from behind; a Nuzleaf and a Machop.
"Deal with them, Treecko!" ordered Cyndaquil. Treecko ran forward, through the hail of bullets and razor leaves. He ran so quickly, he became almost invisible, then leapt between the pair and performed a graceful midair twist; hefty tail swinging like a club and blade scything down. The Machop, who clutched a machine gun in his muscular arms, was sent flailing off the edge of the cliff by the tail attack and the Nuzleaf's head rolled down to Cyndaquil's feet, face frozen in a surprised expression as his headless corpse toppled to one side. Dratini, Rattata and Cyndaquil hurried up to join their ninja-like companion as he wiped his Katana clean.
"That was a nice move you pulled there!" Ratter congratulated, grinning toothily. Treecko nodded his gratitude, swinging his long-handled blade to a ready position by his side. Above them, the alarm still barked its honking song and they could hear reinforcements clattering down in their direction.
"We've got company!" Cyndaquil sighed. He raised his rifle, Treecko maintained his steady breathing and raised his weapon to the sky, Rattata nervously checked ammunition and reloaded, and Dratini began to gather energy for some kind of attack. Ahead of them, the path straightened out into a small plateau, and wooden stairs lead up to the top of the cliff. The enemy swarmed down these stairs and began to fire guns and attacks in their direction.
"Charge!" roared Cyndaquil.
Any ideas for custom characters?
I'm having a competition for one of my other stories for OC's and I thought; what the hell, let's have one for this story too! Enter using this sheet:
Weapon (if any):