08-05-2016, 05:35 PM
The Sage travelled along the streets of Cinnabar with a quickened stride. The assortment of strange creatures that passed the streets around him continued to watch the newcomer warily. The Sage moved through the streets, the limp circlet of seaweed dangling from one hand forgotten. He had paid the murloc double the original price, but the merchant had proved an extremely helpful source in an otherwise unfriendly world. He idly wondered why he was still holding the slippery wreath, but before he decided to simply dispose of it somewhere, an immeasurably powerful presence touched his mind.
The Sage halted in his tracks, one hand held to his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his head. His vision blurred and he felt he was falling sideways. With a start, he placed a hand against the wall of a nearby building. As suddenly as the presence had assaulted him, it stopped. He felt the most distinctive impression that he had just been dismissed. Slowly he was able to regain some semblance of his lost composure. The presence was no longer acute, but he could still feel it. That probably didn’t do anything to help the inhabitants of this city view me very favorably… he thought, but as he looked he saw that despite his near breakdown, the pedestrians around him seemed less than interested in his action. Around him, the entire population seemed to be listening to something. It was a message he did not share, and the Sage was unnerved by how the entire town seemed almost to ‘pause’ as they listened to whatever it was.
The Sage blinked, and the citizens of Cinnabar resumed their motions. Almost immediately, a shout went up from a short distance away. The Sage turned to see a short lizard-like creature with a skull-shaped helmet gesture at him with a bone. “The Team Rocket Trainer! There he is!” heads turned and faces darkened as the Sage watched. In a moment the situation had turned from a bewildering city to an outright hostile one. He had no idea what had turned the entire street against him, but he figured it had something to do with the message they had received; perhaps that was why he had been excluded?
As various members of the surrounding crowd began to warily but determinedly advance, the Sage looked for escape options. The looks he was getting were clear enough that he knew there wouldn’t be any chance of parlay with this multitude. Spotting a narrow Alley way not too far the Sage broke into a sprint. Several of the mob’s members shouted and the chase was on. He was closer to the alley than it had looked at first, the strange angles of the building had confused him, making the building appear far large than it actually was. A squat figure moved to intercept him, a two-foot-tall blue being with a large black and white swirl dominating its appearance. It scowled at him, bringing its hands up in a boxing stance that the Sage found odd for its stature and build.
He had little time to wonder at the oddity of the creature’s fighting style however, as he was only a short distance away from the main crowd of his pursuers. There were occasional shouts from the group, calling him a monster or a coward, but the majority of his pursuers were stone-cold silent. As he reached the blue creature it puffed out its chest, the strange design beginning to spin slightly and take on a strange color. The Sage could feel it tugging at the edges of his mind, beckoning him to look closer, to see how the shape could move so.
He wanted to stop. But he knew that he couldn’t. Stop moving for a moment, and he would be at the mercy of the mob.
Shaking himself out of the hypnosis, he charged the surprised Pokémon. It threw up its small arms in an ineffectual attempt at to protect itself. However, instead of attacking, the Sage leapt, placing a hand on the head of the startled Pokémon and vaulting clean over into the alleyway behind. He raced off down the alley, several of the faster Pokémon not far behind. To his left what he could only describe as a volley of leaves thudded far too solidly into the wall where his head had been only a moment before. He ran with as much speed as he could muster, the angry mob funneling slowly into the alley. Others would be circling around, he imagined, but he didn’t have time to worry about that.
Up ahead he noticed the back door to one of the buildings, and a large collection of crates stacked somewhat haphazardly beside it reaching almost to the roof of the small shop. He briefly considered the door, but the prospect of an indoor chase seemed not in his favor. With another surprisingly powerful leap, he began to make his way up the crates as quickly as possible. His mind drifted back to his time with the wood elves of his homeland. It was strangely relieving to be moving with the agility and thrill of the treetops again. He had spent too long consumed with his research and studies, the old motions were coming back to him now. For a moment, his dire situation seemed almost trivial. He had raced the elves through the branches, and he had been trained by one of their finest. Nothing could catch a dancing leaf, save for the wind.
Harsh reality reasserted its dominance as the ground shook with the impact of something heavy. The crates shook under his feet, and he looked down to see what he could only describe as a boulder with arms. The strangeness of the creature almost caused the Sage to misplace his footing. It stared up at him with rage-filled eyes. Before slamming the ground again. The crates under the Sage’s feet rocked alarmingly, and the Sage slowed down, arms pin wheeling in an attempt to maintain balance.
A few of his pursuers had taken to the air, and the Sage swatted at a strange metal ball with his dueling cane. He risked a glance at his destination. He wasn’t far from the roof. It was probably only about four feet above his head. The metal ball continued to pester him. It lacked the size to be truly threatening, so the Sage was only half dealing with it. His attention was drawn to the creature however, when he heard the first sounds of arcing electricity. The creature seemed to be building up current, in a way the Sage found both impossible, and at the same time incredibly intriguing.
His curiosity would have to wait however, as the creature seemed poised to attack. On a moment’s thought, the Sage whipped at the creature with the seaweed wreath, the slime-covered loop catching one of the strange U-shaped protrusions that extended from the sides of its head. Before the metal ball could react he swung across and downwards, slamming the thing heavily into the side of the building. It spiraled away disoriented, the length of seaweed still dangling loosely from its side. The ground shook again, and the Sage found himself almost pitching over the edge. At this rate he was unsure if he could get to the top of the building before the entire collection of crates was sent hurtling towards the surface below. He eyed the remaining distance carefully as he attempted to regain his balance. Surely he could make the jump, right?
The choice was taken out of his hands as the ground shook yet again, and the Sage could feel his perch slipping sideways as the whole collection of crates began to spill into the alley below. With desperation, the Sage leapt, one arm outstretched to grip the edge of the rooftop. His fingers contacted hard concrete, and for a moment, he hung there, suspended from the edge of the building while the wooden crates rained down on the alley below. Then his fingers lost their purchase, and he fell backwards into the mass of crashing wood and enraged creatures.
The Sage halted in his tracks, one hand held to his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his head. His vision blurred and he felt he was falling sideways. With a start, he placed a hand against the wall of a nearby building. As suddenly as the presence had assaulted him, it stopped. He felt the most distinctive impression that he had just been dismissed. Slowly he was able to regain some semblance of his lost composure. The presence was no longer acute, but he could still feel it. That probably didn’t do anything to help the inhabitants of this city view me very favorably… he thought, but as he looked he saw that despite his near breakdown, the pedestrians around him seemed less than interested in his action. Around him, the entire population seemed to be listening to something. It was a message he did not share, and the Sage was unnerved by how the entire town seemed almost to ‘pause’ as they listened to whatever it was.
The Sage blinked, and the citizens of Cinnabar resumed their motions. Almost immediately, a shout went up from a short distance away. The Sage turned to see a short lizard-like creature with a skull-shaped helmet gesture at him with a bone. “The Team Rocket Trainer! There he is!” heads turned and faces darkened as the Sage watched. In a moment the situation had turned from a bewildering city to an outright hostile one. He had no idea what had turned the entire street against him, but he figured it had something to do with the message they had received; perhaps that was why he had been excluded?
As various members of the surrounding crowd began to warily but determinedly advance, the Sage looked for escape options. The looks he was getting were clear enough that he knew there wouldn’t be any chance of parlay with this multitude. Spotting a narrow Alley way not too far the Sage broke into a sprint. Several of the mob’s members shouted and the chase was on. He was closer to the alley than it had looked at first, the strange angles of the building had confused him, making the building appear far large than it actually was. A squat figure moved to intercept him, a two-foot-tall blue being with a large black and white swirl dominating its appearance. It scowled at him, bringing its hands up in a boxing stance that the Sage found odd for its stature and build.
He had little time to wonder at the oddity of the creature’s fighting style however, as he was only a short distance away from the main crowd of his pursuers. There were occasional shouts from the group, calling him a monster or a coward, but the majority of his pursuers were stone-cold silent. As he reached the blue creature it puffed out its chest, the strange design beginning to spin slightly and take on a strange color. The Sage could feel it tugging at the edges of his mind, beckoning him to look closer, to see how the shape could move so.
He wanted to stop. But he knew that he couldn’t. Stop moving for a moment, and he would be at the mercy of the mob.
Shaking himself out of the hypnosis, he charged the surprised Pokémon. It threw up its small arms in an ineffectual attempt at to protect itself. However, instead of attacking, the Sage leapt, placing a hand on the head of the startled Pokémon and vaulting clean over into the alleyway behind. He raced off down the alley, several of the faster Pokémon not far behind. To his left what he could only describe as a volley of leaves thudded far too solidly into the wall where his head had been only a moment before. He ran with as much speed as he could muster, the angry mob funneling slowly into the alley. Others would be circling around, he imagined, but he didn’t have time to worry about that.
Up ahead he noticed the back door to one of the buildings, and a large collection of crates stacked somewhat haphazardly beside it reaching almost to the roof of the small shop. He briefly considered the door, but the prospect of an indoor chase seemed not in his favor. With another surprisingly powerful leap, he began to make his way up the crates as quickly as possible. His mind drifted back to his time with the wood elves of his homeland. It was strangely relieving to be moving with the agility and thrill of the treetops again. He had spent too long consumed with his research and studies, the old motions were coming back to him now. For a moment, his dire situation seemed almost trivial. He had raced the elves through the branches, and he had been trained by one of their finest. Nothing could catch a dancing leaf, save for the wind.
Harsh reality reasserted its dominance as the ground shook with the impact of something heavy. The crates shook under his feet, and he looked down to see what he could only describe as a boulder with arms. The strangeness of the creature almost caused the Sage to misplace his footing. It stared up at him with rage-filled eyes. Before slamming the ground again. The crates under the Sage’s feet rocked alarmingly, and the Sage slowed down, arms pin wheeling in an attempt to maintain balance.
A few of his pursuers had taken to the air, and the Sage swatted at a strange metal ball with his dueling cane. He risked a glance at his destination. He wasn’t far from the roof. It was probably only about four feet above his head. The metal ball continued to pester him. It lacked the size to be truly threatening, so the Sage was only half dealing with it. His attention was drawn to the creature however, when he heard the first sounds of arcing electricity. The creature seemed to be building up current, in a way the Sage found both impossible, and at the same time incredibly intriguing.
His curiosity would have to wait however, as the creature seemed poised to attack. On a moment’s thought, the Sage whipped at the creature with the seaweed wreath, the slime-covered loop catching one of the strange U-shaped protrusions that extended from the sides of its head. Before the metal ball could react he swung across and downwards, slamming the thing heavily into the side of the building. It spiraled away disoriented, the length of seaweed still dangling loosely from its side. The ground shook again, and the Sage found himself almost pitching over the edge. At this rate he was unsure if he could get to the top of the building before the entire collection of crates was sent hurtling towards the surface below. He eyed the remaining distance carefully as he attempted to regain his balance. Surely he could make the jump, right?
The choice was taken out of his hands as the ground shook yet again, and the Sage could feel his perch slipping sideways as the whole collection of crates began to spill into the alley below. With desperation, the Sage leapt, one arm outstretched to grip the edge of the rooftop. His fingers contacted hard concrete, and for a moment, he hung there, suspended from the edge of the building while the wooden crates rained down on the alley below. Then his fingers lost their purchase, and he fell backwards into the mass of crashing wood and enraged creatures.
Quote:1,365 words according to MS word.
10,103 words total
If history is to become legend, it first must be recorded.