Novels2Search
Tales of Reborn - A Pokemon Tabletop Adventure
Chapter 1: Lost Anthology - Part 1

Chapter 1: Lost Anthology - Part 1

(Art and Video by Yuki. Don't go into the channel if you don't want massive spoilers for this series.)

----------------------------------------

Alongside this letter, you will find a ticket for the midnight train out of Viridian. Eight others will travel alongside you on your way toward your final destination: Saffron City.

Once you arrive, you will receive the details regarding the job for which you've been hired.

Suffice to say, your reward will more than make up for whatever dangers you face on the way.

See you soon,

-M

image [https://i.imgur.com/OlJmtML.jpeg]

----------------------------------------

The knife-sharp cold of winter's night engulfed the train station, piercing lungs and turning skin as pale as marble. The only visible light fell from atop a rusty lamp-post, which barely illuminated the train tracks past the broken fence. It flickered on and off every few seconds, threatening to plunge the whole place into darkness.

No train had circulated through those tracks in years, and by all means the place should've been abandoned. And yet, oddly, three dark figures stood on one of the platforms, waiting. The first two sat on the freezing benches littered all around. The third was the one closest to the rails, arms crossed and expression darkened.

The clock struck midnight, startling them with its buzzing, electronic gong. Two round, yellow lights could be seen approaching from the east, the ground rumbling as they swiftly approached. The train which greeted them had certainly seen better days; the rectangular advertisements pasted onto the sides had been turned into an incomprehensible garble of bright colors. The windows were so dirty they could barely make out the light inside and the ceiling and lower parts of the wagons were covered in a thick layer of rust.

It opened its gates with a whirring sound of nails against chalkboard. Its front lights illuminated a worn sign that read Viridian City Train Station.

Two of the three people looked at each other for a moment, and set foot inside the ninth wagon. The remaining dark figure turned away from them and entered through the tenth.

The train stood still for a few seconds before roaring back to life, disappearing into the night soon after.

----------------------------------------

The inside of the train wasn't much better than the outside, they soon realized.

The seats were made of cheap plastic and a grey, dirty carpet covered most of the floor. The edges of the windows were being consumed by a thick layer of filth that made it impossible to see anything through it. Some of them feared the ceiling would collapse any second, as its whirring roars threatened to do.

And yet the train gained velocity at a slow, steady pace. At a distance, the persistent sound of metal crinkling didn't sit well with some of the passengers, who shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

There were three on the ninth wagon. Looking curiously at the door was a man with a messy mane of hair black as a Murkrow, who could've passed off as a regular trainer were it not for the garish piece of yellow rope he wore around his waist like a belt, easily as thick as an Ekans's body. Next to him, another young man tapped his foot impatiently, hands on his pockets and worry clear on his face. His brown hair was pushed back by a pair of black triangular glasses, and the only thing protecting him from the cold was a jacket with a fuzzy white collar. The man who'd entered the wagon alongside him was standing in the middle of it, staring past one of the windows with a look of concentration.

The one with glasses ruffled his hair nervously and grabbed a tarot card from the deck holster hanging from his hip. Closing his eyes, he threw it upwards and managed to catch it effortlessly only a second later. When he opened his eyes again the image of a winged angel with a trumpet met his gaze.

"Inverted Judgement... an unexpected travel?" he whispered to himself. "Wait... that's already happening."

Mom was right, I should've trained more.

He couldn't help but laugh at himself, and forming a soothing smile he turned towards the two men sharing the wagon with him.

"How about you two? Also traveling because of necessity?"

The garish one stared at him with a curious look, black eyes gleaming behind his dark, tea shade glasses.

"Necessity, you say?" His voice was strangely calm, and yet they could feel laughter bubbling underneath it. "Let's see, if my math isn't wrong then there's three of us here, plus the four in the wagon in front of us and two in the one behind. Either this is all a coincidence... or we all got the same letter and we came here because we're the perfect group of credulous idiots."

Without giving time for a response he turned towards the door leading to the next wagon, hands inside the pockets of his jacket.

"I'm going to make friends, wanna join me?"

I wonder if they got my sarcasm, he thought to himself. Wait… they're complete strangers. Ah, nevermind…

The one who hadn't spoken yet approached him with a gentle smile and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Forgive me, partner, but wouldn't it be courteous to introduce ourselves?" His tone was low and soothing. "I know what you're thinking: 'This person who doesn't even know me is accusing me of impoliteness!'"

The garish man stared at him as if he didn't understood half the words coming out of his mouth. Either that or he was extremely drunk.

"In any case…," he continued, still smiling, "my name is Siegfried, it's a pleasure to meet you. Well… technically it depends on you whether you want to introduce yourself or not and… ah… I'm sorry, I tend to ramble sometimes."

The man he was speaking to showed him a smile that, he realized, couldn't belong to anyone entirely sane.

"Name's Ñako." He winked playfully. "What about mister tarot over there?"

"You can call me Rhin." The third man also smiled, saving the card inside the deck. "A pleasure."

----------------------------------------

Four other people were in the tenth wagon. Leaning against one of the chairs near the back was a girl with knee-long red hair, eyes lost on the barely recognizable landscape outside. Standing close to her but looking in the opposite direction stood a well dressed boy wearing a scarf, a white beret and a long, brown coat. A man with disheveled, spiky white hair sat down far from everyone else, a constant frown on his face.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

But strangest of all was the one who'd just stepped into the wagon from Viridian Station. He wore a wide, bright smile and a simple-minded look, yet what surprised the rest of the passengers the most was his hair. A large, puffy pink afro.

A dry chuckle came from where the white haired man was sitting, his eyes going from the newcomer's unusual hair to the window next to him.

He let out a sigh, mist escaping his lips, "I don't like it."

The young man with the pink afro turned towards him and smiled.

"There is no need for such praise, my ardent fan!" he spoke, startling everyone with the volume of his voice. "I can see in your eyes your incipient admiration!"

They all turned to look at him, with varying degrees of surprise and confusion. It seemed the silence that followed was taken by the man as an opportunity to keep speaking.

"If that's what you wish, then I shall introduce myself." He raised his palm toward the ceiling, his hair glistening under the fluorescent lights of the wagon. "I… am Vard!"

The two other men exchanged a puzzled look, and the girl near the back simply looked away, disinterested. Vard chuckled to himself, then added:

"Now, my indecipherable friends…" His expression turned darker, perhaps unconsciously. "Let's say… I make this wagon explode."

That certainly got the girl's attention, whose sharp golden eyes quickly focused on Vard. Both her and the white haired man moved their hands to their belts, where their only Pokeballs resided.

However, the one with the scarf simply let out a laugh, half incredulous and half sarcastic.

"A pleasure, Vard." He raised his palm. "Let's say you actually do blow it up. Well, I'm curious as to what method you'd employ to accomplish such a feat, but…"

He shrugged, completely unconcerned.

"I'm afraid the world isn't ready to see me blown to bits, and I'm sure the same applies to someone of your… uniqueness." He slightly bent his knee and put a hand over his stomach, in the form of a mocking bow. "My name is Mycroft, by the way. Enchanté."

----------------------------------------

In the middle of the eighth wagon stood a short, dark haired girl with a thick wool hat covering part of her head. Specks of ash fell from the cigarette she was holding in her right hand. Her eyebrows seemed glued together and the incessant tapping of her feet didn't help with the calm demeanor she was trying to portray outwardly.

Her mind was in the process of going through every possible escape route, should things go south. Which, knowing her luck, was only a matter of time.

What if they were the ones to send the letter? No, there's no way they'd bother with something so elaborate if they already knew where she was hiding.

"This is something else," she whispered to no one, leaning against the nearest wall. It was cold as all fuck.

Close to her, another man laid down between two of the seats, fingers playing with a rusty Pokeball. He had a messy head of brown hair and wore a torn-up white shirt with the image of a sunflower painted on the middle.

After a couple minutes of fiddling with the device he pressed the button on the front. A flash of light blinded him momentarily, and from it emerged an avian creature with wings that looked like they were made of cotton. Its soft brown eyes fell on its trainer.

"The fuck do you want?" the man asked with a bored expression.

"Bluu!" the creature replied excitedly.

He narrowed his eyes and let out a sigh of irritation, "Ah, dunno why I bother. Better pull your fucking weight if you don't want me to throw you off this train."

Seemingly unable to understand its trainer's threat, the Swablu started bouncing on top of his legs. Trying to ignore it, the man looked towards the girl standing a few feet from him and studied her carefully.

She seemed tough, that was for sure. Alert and probably ready for any kind of fun that might happen that night. Not the kind of girl he'd want to mess with.

"Yo, Flaca." He winked at her. "What do I call you? Name's Silver."

She pinched the butt of the cigarette after taking a drag and exhaled deeply, closing her eyes as she tasted the smoke.

"Sabrina," was her simple response. "And don't call me-"

A sudden, arresting jolt tugged at their bodies before she could finish. Silver leaned into the wall and tried to look through one of the nearby windows, eyes narrowed in concentration.

The landscape outside stood still. The train had stopped.

Sabrina took a step back and grabbed her only Pokeball, biting down on the cigarette almost strongly enough to break it. There was no need for panic, she assured herself. It had probably just been…

The sound of shattered glass made its way from one of the nearby wagons towards them.

She cursed under her breath and opened the Pokeball, its light forming the shape of a yellow, triangular Pokemon with small blue eyes and a big mouth of perfect white teeth. The Snorunt started bouncing in place happily while Sabrina briefly considered kicking her before remembering she might need the stupid thing. Next to her Silver got to his feet, eyes glued to the door leading to the ninth wagon.

What do we do? his expression seemed to ask.

"We ambush whoever that was and beat them up in the most cowardly way possible," she replied, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. "I hate complications."

Sharing a nod, they walked towards the door, kicking it in unison.

----------------------------------------

Two of the men in the ninth wagon threw their Pokeballs into the air at the same time. From Rhin's appeared a blue creature with an amphibian face and two long, thin arms. The one belonging to Siegfried was a short anthropomorphic fighting Pokemon with white sweatbands on his wrists and three protrusions coming out of his head.

"Those things are ugly," the garish man spoke, hands on his pockets and looking very casual for the situation.

"Alright!" the first yelled, smiling widely at his Croagunk. "Can't have a party without a main event, and we're not gonna make them wait! Keroro, get ready!"

Siegfried raised an eyebrow, surprised by the boy's sudden change in attitude. Where had his apparent mild mannerisms gone to? And… were his eyes a different color or was the exhaustion messing with him?

"Itsuki, we are under attack," he told his Tyrogue, deciding not to think about it too much. "Stay alert. We should go where the others are…"

Before he could finish, two blue shadows jumped through the windows into the wagon, moving so fast they had trouble following them with their eyes. They landed in front of their Pokemon and brandished their sharp claws in unison, forming a wide and sadistic smile. A long, red feather adorned their heads, growing from the back of their left ear.

The Sneasel jumped forward and slashed at their opponents, who barely got out of the way before those sharp claws could tear them to shreds.

----------------------------------------

The redhead jumped from her seat as soon as the windows started to crack, as if she'd been expecting such a thing to happen.

"Let's go!" she yelled with a commanding tone, and started running to the door leading toward the ninth wagon, grabbing Mycroft by the arm.

They heard the sound of shattering glass, too close for comfort.

Vard smiled, "Looks like I only needed to proliferate my intentions for the wagon to actually start exploding. Sometimes I even surprise myself!"

He was the first to cross the door, pushing it aside with a flourish and showing himself to Siegfried's group. There were two strange, dark Pokemon between them, which Vard didn't seem worried about.

"There's no time to admire my hair!" he exclaimed, taking a Pokeball from his belt. "I don't know your intentions, you foul beings, but I will not let you harm these innocent bystanders!"

The light from the Pokeball materialized on top of the man's hair, and from it emerged what appeared to be a brown cylinder with two small eyes and a pink nose, its body hidden under a pile of dirt.

I wonder where the dirt comes from every time, Vard thought to himself.

"Everyone, stand back! The overwhelming power I'm about to unleash might drive you all mad!" He threw his hand forward. "Digda, Sand Attack!"

Anticlimactically but quite effective nonetheless, from his mouth the Diglett spat a small torrent of dirt that hit both the Sneasel in the eyes, rendering them momentarily blind.

"Keroro, Cross Chop!"

"Itsuki, Mach Punch!"

Unable to see where the attacks were coming from, the pair of dark critters couldn't dodge the flurry of blows as they rained upon them, every punch and kick tearing through their already poor defenses, and their type weakness only added insult to injury. They both fell unconscious immediately, hitting the metallic floor hard.

"We're-Ah! What's... going on?"

All nine passengers finally converged in the same wagon, and the eyes of the newcomers fell on the immobile bodies of the recently defeated Pokemon. The girl with the black wool hat stared doubtfully, ready to order an attack were it necessary.

However, she saw the confusion in the faces of the rest. They probably had nothing to do with what had happened. In the other extreme of the wagon, the red haired girl began to speak:

"Who…?"

The door separating them from the eighth wagon was torn from its hinges, falling to the ground with a deaf thump that turned everyone's eyes to it. The cigarette almost fell from Sabrina's mouth as she saw what was on the other side.

Oh, you cannot be fucking serious.

Three tall figures walked through the recently made hole, cloaked in black robes. Identical red masks covered everything except their eyes.

A Spearow flew close to the one on the right, while the one on the left had her hand on top of the head of a Drowzee. However, they both paled in comparison to the ghastly weapon the one in the middle -their leader, surely- held in his hands. A thin wooden pole with a wicked curved blade at the end of it, as long as the man's torso.

A scythe. That's a goddamn fucking scythe, Sabrina thought, eyes wide like plates.

"So this is the talented group of trainers he was talking about…" They heard his rough voice muffled through the mask. "They don't look like much."

The woman with the Spearow narrowed her eyes, "Still, I'm sure they'll entertain us all the way to Saffron."

Okay yeah, fuck this, Sabrina wheezed, starting to panic. Time to bring out the big guns.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter