At the top of Castle Guarde was a room that held the culmination of each Guildmaster’s tenure. Bobbles and souvenirs from every journey and expedition that crossed their path. Decades of histories resided in this room, and in the middle was a table that came from such a journey. The third Guildmaster of Almas was apparently a carpenter. With them being a Solrock, that was a bit of an oddity, but that did not have an effect on the quality of the work. Adorned with inscriptions of the sun gazing down on a forest, the dirt floor rose up into a forest of fungus roots. A beautiful heirloom that was now in the center of operations for the Almas guild. It was there that Thea, Morris, and Styles were sitting.

The tea that hit Thea’s beak was delightful. The concoction was sweetened with some rare sugar, imported from the Rain Continent to the Surge Continent. A treat bestowed upon her by the last Guildmaster, Sedi. Lovely Orthworm. Better than the everlasting gift from Carce the Kingler. That gift came in the form of an Aggron head that stood mounted on the wall somewhere far below, in the basement levels where Alzbell lived. The meat of which was already long gone, but the imagined sound of the Guillotine still echoed in her mind. But that would spoil the tea, and that would not be good.

Morris preferred not to partake in sugar or caffeine. Tended to make him a lot more wiry than he wanted. The papers scattered across his portion of the table detailed the logistics of what was to be proposed. The Surge Continent was known for its wondrous plant growth and the vitality of nature that covered the land. The Pokemon that resided there were known to have a bit more pep in their step in their lives, and unfortunately, that came with their deaths. It seemed that a good chunk of Pokemon had found themselves slain somewhere in the Northern Passage. The only problem was that the Northern Passage was known to be the hideout of several Pokemon who could only be described as outlaws. While the bucket of Sharpedos was known to thin itself out by force, it seemed that one of those ne'er do wells had taken it upon themselves to act as ghost management due to the sheer amount of hostile spirits. The amateur at hand decided the best way to keep these ghastly figures from running rampant was to bind them to several stones. The sheer amount of spirits found in Style’s report seemed to lead to one conclusion. The formation of a Spiritomb.

Spritombs were, to Morris’s knowledge, headaches of Pokemon. They were a rarity, and while the Almas guild was familiar with more reasonable Pokemon of the species, the recent formation of them added on to the malice of the souls involved almost certainly meant that these were bound to become threats that could harm someone severely. Of course, they couldn’t just go on a witch hunt, and the expedition would take time to organize. But that was a step of stress way down the line, step 1 was the assembly.

Styles sat back in an old, ornate chair. Good lumbar support, but it was unfortunately a part of guild property. "So from what I’ve heard, the love hunt is going well."

Thea's gaze fell on Styles mid-sip. "Please don’t refer to it like that, Styles. They took guild property, and this was coming for a few days now."

Morris's nerveous vibes seemed to radiate from his every word. "The armor merchants had scraps of metal stolen, not to mention the local Kecleons, who had their supplies raided. M-Multiple complaints regarding that have already been filed prior. "

A shrug answered Morris's concerns. "And we’re dealing with it now. Tell 'em to mat their fur and wait."

The bottom of her glass ran dry and Thea closed her eyes. "Yes, I am sure the search has been going well."

Costello was the only one awake, or at least the only one that he was sure of. He didn’t drop immediately, just after the lizards had jumped him. A bit bruised but nothing horrible. Now he was tied up in a bundle with something heavy. When he peeked his eyes, the others were similarly tied up, with Caspian and his gang being in a berry assortment and his team being tied with some gigantic armor piece and a bundle of sticks. Whoever tied them up had done good work. Very nice. Sturdy rope, none of it was loose The knots they used were unique and they even went the distance of tying up the limbs and the throat. Excellent work.

Not the time.

Right. Now was the time to figure out where they were. As he scooted his way upright, the first thing he noticed was the makeshift throne in the middle of the room. While the chair itself was made of a humble material, what adorned it was a cavalcade of jewels, necklaces, and all sorts of valuables. It was a treasure horde fit for a ravenous King.

Or Queen.

It was surrounded by a revolving door of Salandits dropping whatever they could onto the pile, from meager scrapings of rejected metal to some of the stronger of the assortment—emeralds. As Costello kept looking around the group, another smell seemed to fill the air. They jostled and pushed each other to line up in formation, the strongest of them taking their position in the front. As they each took their stance and stood upright, the sickly sweet odor in the room intensified as the amateurishly built double doors blew open with a flourish.

"Gentlemen. Your Effigy, Lada, has arrived!"

Her manner of speaking was old-fashioned, though Costello had no frame of reference for that. She moved as though she were being recorded, her movements being broadcast to unseen millions, though Costello again had no frame of reference for that. Seductive, sultry, and teasing, her claws lightly grazed under the chins of her enraptured followers. There was love, there was obsession, but this was mania, and with the way the legs of the Salandits wobbled under their own weight. The way they seemed to be barely restraining themselves from hooting and hollering They had sold their souls for this. For a different figure, the show up to her throne would be something of a pleasurable experience. However, for Costello, both minds could agree on one word for the display.

"Disgusting."

With the "show" finished, the Salazzle took her place upon her throne of avarice, fiddling with one of the many riches in her grip.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Well, well. You boys seemed to have done well. At this point, we’ll have ourselves something better than even that hussie, Persephone. You all deserve something special later tonight."

The sentence barely escaped her mouth before the room erupted in shivers and applause. Costello could only try his hardest to keep from gagging. The noise was enough to wake some of his allies, the first being Caspian, who nudged Zata, who hit Roka with her tail, which was currently covered in a bag of cotton.

"Wake up coal breath."

"I’m up, I’m up Ion."

"I’m not your friend; we got ambushed. Costello, what did we miss?"

"Just something gross. Don’t worry about it. Anyone else awake?"

Floe spoke up from their current status of being tied down to a sack of sand. "Liam is still out."

"Of course he is." Costello said flatly. The roll call was ultimately cut short as the Salazzle finished her routine with a grand flourish.

"Ahh!" The Lizard outstretched her arms, multiple pearl necklaces falling downward from her wrists. "It appears that our guests of honor have woken up. How are you, darlings?"

"Fine, thank you. Yknow, other than the fact that YOUR GOONS JUMPED US!" The noise erupted from the Shinx, who was currently tied to some dinnerware.

"And the Lechonk on a plate has woken up. Lose the fur, the weight, and the attitude in your voice, and you may actually come off beautiful."

"I will-"

With a wave of her hand, the dramatic Pokemon pointed at Ion. "Oh Rogier! Gag the sparky one, would you?"

"Yes, Lady Lada."

In an instant, a member of the horrid harem pushed some rouge fabric into her mouth.

"Oh, don't use that one; use the one the Spidops crafted. It's out of season anyway."

As the Salandit and the Salazzle went back and forth over which cloth would be better gag material, Costello began to try and wriggle their way out to no avail.

"Damn this excellent knot."

With no more give on the rope, the only option that Costello had to slowly nudge his way over to the nearest fire type. With the current argument over cloth being over whether it matched with Ion’s colors, and all the other members entranced, this was an easy enough goal until he got to Roka.

"Roka?"

"Oh, green dude. What’s up?"

"Can you burn the ropes off of us?"

"Yeah. Don’t wanna, though." said Roka, matter-of-factly.

A slight bout of indignation crossed Costello’s face. "Why not? You can free us all, and we can get out of here."

"Hey, I’d rather be napping in the sun than anything else. But strategic retreat isn’t really gonna our best option here."

"If that’s the case, we can just fight them."

"Wouldn’t work either, pal."

"And what’s the flaw in that?"

"Your dragon friend and Ion are gonna be pissed, they'll start fighting midway through our escape, and the fact they may have more guys isn’t a good sign. Once she finishes her speech, we’ll be propped up against something like 30 or 40 against 9—8 if one of us leaves to warn them. We all leave, and we’re giving them time to recover and escape. The goal is to incapacitate and subjugate, or else this'll go on forever.

"So what then?"

Roka tilted his head as he lay upside down. "Hey dude, I point out flaws; I never said I was contributing."

"....."

You have ideas. So think.

The lightbulb in Costello’s head was dull, but it was brightening by the moment.

"Ok. I’ll still need you to burn through some rope, but I have an idea. Pass it to Floe and Esme."

….

The group stood huddled together, the gaggle of salamanders blocking the way behind them. Forced to kneel in front of the throne of gold. Sera was the first to voice her displeasure at the situation. "So, you one-ton piece of stale scale perfume, why the hell do you have us here? My leaves are itching, and I’d rather not be here bowing to some wannabe pretty girl who crawled out of the Earth’s ass crack."

A finger was outstretched towards the mouthy Leafeon. "Tsk,tsk,tsk. How is that any way to address the queen? Especially one about to offer you something absolutely amazing."

Sarcastically, the Leafeon laughed at the suggestion. Oh, good for you, Queenie. I’d clap for you if I had hands. Cas, clap offensively for me."

A small amount of slow clapping came from the crocodile, dropping his ward in the form of Liam, who had still remained semi-conscious.

"Sorry. Sorry. I think he has a concussion or something."

A chuckle rumbled around the golden throne. Oh, ho ho! My boys must’ve roughed him up something fierce. But I know that he’ll be in good hands once we discuss."

"What do you mean by discuss?"

"Well, me and my fellows are currently in a bit of an arms race. We need strong Pokemon. And who else but you? I’m sure your Guild has sent in a bit more of you in order to keep the peace and get rid of my competition, but what if I said that I could offer you a bit more than that?

Liam's seemingly groggy voice spoke up. "And what would that be, two ladies?"

"Why struggle for greatness in a system that has the potential to fail you. I'm sure Pokemon like that Dragon type over there could seek a bit of purpose outside of her expectations."

Zata spat out the words. "Generous, you ugly broad. I'd rather die before degrading myself to this garbage."

"Huh, ugly?! Well, now you’ve been downgraded to middle of the totem pole. But no matter. This deal is awfully time sensitive, so you’re going to want to decide real quick."

A quick beat filled the air, only broken with the sound of snapping ropes. Costello’s voice rang from the back. "We’ve made our choice! Now!"

In an instant, Floe’s Blizzard covered the tent with a flurry, turning the inside into a snow globe.

"Oh, snow? We’re fire types, honey, you can’t do anything against us."

In the next moment, Caspian’s water made the snow runny, and the combined powers of Roka’s and Liam’s fire let a cloud of steam enclose the encampment.

Liam's condition miraculously improved as they began to make a break for it. "Cut and run!”

As they escaped the encampment, Esme in an instant let off a Rock Slide to surround the camp in large rocks. Costello nodded at the two fire types as they let off their best flames to escape the tree line and light up the sky.

"Ok, now we find the-"

Costello's statement was cut off. A hideous hoarse roar let loose through the rocks, leaving half of them demolished. A beam of pure energy cut through them like water through a piece of bread. With a simple push, they fell over in a heap, with Lada and her squad of Lizards emerging from the dust. The air seemed to get hotter as they moved closer and closer towards them, making direct eye contact with Costello.

“Well, I underestimated you, boy. Thought that I’d do you the kindness of leaving you ungagged." Her tongue flicked around her lips. "But now it seems I have to step on your neck."