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Gotta Help Them All (for DSilence and MMRS)

MildmanneredRedSonja

MildmanneredRedSonja

Star
Joined
Jun 16, 2017
Drafoi rubbed his eyes and sighed.

No matter what he added to the fire, the result was always the same. The atadors doomed to being captured and enslaved, battling at the behest of those who captured them. The cycle was unending.

Well, perhaps not unending. There was a chance, at least in the present cycle, that the secret of the mamachs could be discovered, and the mamachs could be freed.

Maybe.

Dragoi stood up, stretched, and walked out of the cave. He stood on the narrow ledge that looked out on a great swath of jungle. He let his mind wander momentarily, just watching the birds and the smaller atadors playing on the upper reaches of the jungle.

Dragoi looked up into the sky, watching silently as first one star, then another, began appearing in the twilight sky. When enough stars appeared, Dragoi went back into the cave. He found an old fur cape and wrapped it around his wizened body, before her returned to his fire.

From a nearby group of bowls, he gather different colored powders, and tossed them all into his fire.

The fire burned brightly for a few seconds, then disappeared.

And in the fire's place, a hole appeared. A hole that would bring the savior of the atadors from another world.
 
Bandit meowed loudly in complaint, pawing at Daniel's leg with impatient fervor. "Alright, alright," he said with a chuckle, setting the plate of cat food and leftover lunchmeat down on the floor. Instantly the striped feline was upon it, munching happily as Daniel scratched her behind her ears. "Left a window open so you can get in and out. You take care of yourself while I'm at work, alright?" he said aloud as he stood, grabbing his bag. There was no answer of course except for the twitch of a tail, but it was enough for him to chuckle a little as he left.

The apartment was above the local hardware store, the owner an old family friend that was willing to give the young man one hell of a deal on his rent. It was a point of pride that at only twenty he was living on his own and gainfully employed, even if it was as a mechanic at the local shop. Already running a bit late Daniel moved quickly, mounting his bike and taking off down the street. Short black hair streamed behind him in the wind as he sped down the small town streets, the fabric of his overalls fluttering lightly. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts and plans for the future. Another couple of years at the shop and he could afford to move to a bigger city, get a job there. A few more years and maybe he could start his own shop. Idly he wondered if Sandra would come with him. They didn't see each other much anymore since she went off to college last year, but if he could move closer to her school than maybe it would work out.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that it wasn't until the last moment that he saw the dog standing in the middle of the sidewalk, squarely in his path. "Shit!" he gasped as he was forced to suddenly turn, his bike jolting as it fell from the curb into the street. he never saw the car that struck him, slamming into him from behind and sending him flying. He had just enough time to shut his eyes tight and try to cover his head before he landed. Frigid cold water suddenly surrounded him, falling down, down into the darkness. Water? Where had it come from? Why wasn't he dead on the road?

His eyes opened. Light, a circle of bright light straight ahead. Wasn't up the other way? His lungs were starting to hurt. No time to think. Had to act. Kicking away from the bike he swam desperately towards the circle, its edges shifting and wavering as vision began to blur. He wasn't going to make it, he wasn't getting any closer, it wasn't enough. With a final desperate kick he felt his fingers suddenly touch air, searching blindly until it felt a hard edge.


In a compulsive motion he pulled himself free of the water, gasping in desperate gulps of air. Without thought he pulled himself up onto the ground, falling flat on his back. Roughly he coughed, what had to be buckets of water dumping out of his lungs. With a groan he opened his eyes, staring at the stone ceiling.

An instant later he was sitting bolt upright, looking around in utter incomprehension.
 
"Be with you in a second," a voice said from the darkness.

A few sparks could be seen, and then a fire burst into existence. Kneeling nearby was a wizened old man, clad in a simple cloth that hung from one shoulder and draped down to his knees. The man's skin had the leathered look of someone who had spent decades in the sun, and there was a stoop in his stance that also spoke of advanced years. But when the old man turned to face the new arrival, his blue eyes were crisp and clear, and seemed to flicker with energy.

"Come, take a seat by the fire," the old man said, as he settled crosslegged beside it, gathering his robe around him. "You'll dry faster."
 
It was several long moments before Daniel moved, not having any other idea of what to do. Slowly he pulled himself a few feet away from the inexplicable pool to sit before the fire, staring warily at the old man. Ever so often he would look around, trying to process the idea that he was somehow in the middle of a cave.

"Where am I?" he finally asked in a slow, careful voice. "...Am I dead?"
 
"I certainly hope not," the old man replied. The old man made a gesture with his hand, and the pool disappeared, leaving just the cave. "If you were dead, then I would be too, and I have a few more things to accomplish. No, my new friend, you are in Nomekop which, though some of its inhabitants might think is one of the more infernal versions of the afterlife, is still very much part of the world of the Living. Care for some wine?" The old man asked, offering Daniel a wine sack.
 
Daniel barely noticed the pool missing, too fixated upon the old man and the bizarre things he was saying. His mouth opened and shut a few times as he stared at the wineskin, his mind turning the words about in his mind. There was something there, something obvious, but his thoughts were having trouble focusing upon it. Slowly he reached out to take the skin, sniffing the opening. The heady smell of alcohol was like a slap to the face, just enough for him to realize what must be the truth.

"Nomekop...Pokemon?" he said aloud, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Ok. Got it. Bashed my head open on the street, scrambled my brains. Probably in the hospital listening to some kid brag about his Charizard. Got it."

He handed the skin back before rising, wavering a little before standing firmly on his feet. Surprisingly he wasn't sore at all, but if this was all in his mind then he wouldn't be. "No offense, but I really don't want to go on any weird mind trips while I'm bleeding out. So can we just skip to where I walk into the light or something?" he added, looking around for an exit to the cave.
 
"The exit's that way," the old man replied, pointing to the cave mouth. "The ledge outside is fairly thin, though, and it's a long fall down to the jungle. And if you survive the fall...not everything in the jungle is friendly. When you get finished deciding whether all this is real or not, come back in and we'll have a talk."
 
That was not the response Daniel was expecting. If the old man was some kind of spirit guide, shouldn't he not have let Daniel leave or try to stop him? Quickly he shut off the line of thought. The idea that he was in a hospital in a drug-induced stupor was far more comforting than the idea that he'd completely lost his mind, or died, or somehow taken to...wherever the hell this was.

"Right. Thanks, I guess," he said before turning away, following the outstretched hand towards the mouth of the cave. But when he reached the edge, he froze. A jungle, massive and enormous, and a sky filled with stars he'd never seen before, far more than he'd ever seen in his light-polluted world.

It was...beautiful. And it was several long moments before Daniel finally turned away. He couldn't imagine something like this. Not when it was so real.

"What's going on here?" he said, hoping his voice would carry to the old man. "Where am I? Are you the one that brought me here?"
 
"Let's establish that all this is real first," the old man instructed Daniel. "Come over here and hold your hand over the flame as long as you can."
 
"Could I not?" Daniel sighed as he sat back down before the fire. "I get what you're trying for, but I guess it doesn't really matter whether this is in my head or not. Either I'm in the hospital and will wake up eventually, I'm dead and this is some weird afterlife, or..." He trailed off. Even if this was real, it made him feel a bit better to not actually verbalize it.

"Might as well just run with it, and I really don't want to deal with a burned hand right now."
 
"I wasn't asking you to burn your hand, Daniel, just to verify the fire was real," the old man said with a chuckle. "I can assure you that this is neither an injury induced hallucination, nor is it the life after this one. But I'm hoping that before we begin our discussion, you'll understand this is real. And if you turn your head very carefully, you'll see we have a visitor at the entrance of the cave. Though perhaps you shouldn't look. I'm fairly sure that it would only confirm your belief that none of this is real."

At the entrance, a blue jay was pecking on the ledge, while keeping an eye on the two men by the fire. Except it wasn't a blue jay, even though it was only six inches tall.

The "blue jay" eyed the men one more time before flying away.

"It's not actually that uncommon to see a Ristata in the wild wearing a trapper's gear," the old man observed. "Even the most seemingly tamed ones will fly on a trapper if given a chance."
 
The odd warning was enough to make Daniel turn back to the mouth of the cave. It took him a moment to realize that the old man must mean the bird pecking at the ledge, his eyes glazing over it. It was just a bird, there wasn't anything special about it. Up until it straightened up on two legs, spread its wings, and looked Daniel squarely in the eyes with arms ready at its sides. A small, female body clad in what looked like leather, eyes glimmering with intelligent wariness.

"What the hell-?" Daniel started, automatically shifting his body to turn towards it and try to get a better look. As if on queue the creature took off, wings emerging from its back flapping hard to send it quickly soaring into the sky.

"What...what was that?" he asked slowly, turning back to the old man. "A Ristata? Trappers? Was that supposed to be a pokemon, or nomekop, or whatever you called it? Was that a person?"
 
"All interesting questions," the old man said with a chuckle, "And each requiring a different sort of answer. If you have no objections, I'll answer all your questions in the order that best suits me. Consider it a deserved due of my age."

"I know what you call a Pokemon and, to the best of my knowledge, no such thing exists. However," the old man said with a shrug, "There are worlds beyond worlds, and you yourself are sitting in a world other than your own, so who am I to say that there isn't a world out there where creatures can be captured in spheres. Perhaps the individuals who created Pokemon in your world were somehow inspired by mine." The old man shrugged at the last observation.

"Nomekop is the name of the land that you are currently in, though I suppose you could use it for the name of the world as a whole. To be precise, it is the name of the continent where a various number of countries co-exist, though usually not peacefully. And yes, it is a reverse image of the Pokemon game you speak of, but I assume that is just an interesting coincidence. Although some would say there are no coincidences." Again the old man gave a Gallic shrug.

"The Ristata are an avian species, agile, cunning and with an interesting talent. As you saw, they are also anthropomorphic. My world is not as dedicated to taxonomy as yours, but creatures like the Ristata are generally called Atadors. The origins of the word Atador is an interesting bit of etymology which I won't bore you with," the old man said with a dry laugh.

"Trappers are those who can successfully capture an Atador and use them in combat." The last was said bluntly and with a frown on the old man's face.

"And is the Risata and, by extension, the rest of the Atadors people? That depends on whom you ask. The Trappers would say no. Those who livelihoods depend, directly or indirectly, on the Trappers would say no. I believe otherwise. And I hope you might think the same as I."
 
Daniel was silent as the old man spoke, shaking his head slowly. It both was and wasn't proof that this was fake. It all sounded like the game, like this was some fanfic or elaborate LARP session. And yet there was too much detail, it was all too real, he couldn't possibly have imagined all of this.

"They say they aren't people? But," he looked back at the cave. From here he could see the tiny shapes of other birds flying through the air. Now that he knew what to look for the shapes were slightly off, longer and thinner than a true bird. "Wait, no, she was wearing clothes! She had hands and thumbs and she looked at me with-" He cut himself off, shaking his head.

"Ok. Ok. So Atadors are pokemon. Trappers are trainers. Everyone thinks they're just animals. If you even have animals in this crazy place. And they fight with them, because why the fuck not at this point.

"Except none of that makes sense in a real world. If that Ristata can, I don't know, breathe fire or something then it wouldn't let itself be captured by a human and there's no way you could fight with them without killing people."
 
"As a matter of fact we do have animals," the old man said, pointing to a small, lizard like creature that scurried along the wall, just visible at the edge of the fire's light."

"And as a definition to people, every culture on your world has a word for they, them, the others, the outsiders, those who are not us. Infidels, barbarians, the great unwashed, gaijin...and once you define you and your collective as The people, it's quite easy to make the logical step of defining those not like you as not people. Not worthy of having the same rights as people."

The old man was quiet for a moment, just studying the fire.

"And it's easy to say that it could not happen, that the other would rise up, that they would not let themselves be hunted down. But then it happens," the old man sadly concluded, "And then your mind accepts the conclusion that there could have been no other results."

The old man poked the fire with a stick, causing a spray of sparks, before adding, "Do you know on your world that it was once believed among some of your people that women did not possess the intelligence to read and write, or to make decisions such as choosing leaders? And there all still such beliefs held in wide swaths of your Eurasian continent."

"But you must know all this," the old man laughed as he stood up. "After all, you've already told me what is true and not true on my world, and only after needing barely a glimpse of it. I'm hungry," the old man announced, producing a pot, a tripod, and a bag of dried roots and other items. Handing Daniel the small pot, he instructed, "If you edge along the ledge outside to the right, you'll see steps carved into the cliff, leading downward. Halfway between here and the jungle floor is a little...porch, for lack of a better word. There is a spring there. Fill the pot and hurry back."
 
The words fell heavy and dark, Daniel sighing as he stared into the fire. "Sorry," he said after a moment. "I'm not trying to be an ass, I'm just trying to figure out what's going on here. The last thing I knew I'd been hit by a car and thought I was going to die. Now I'm in some messed up world and...I just want to know what's going on."

The command came out of nowhere, Daniel staring at the old man blankly for a few moments. "Look man, I'm really trying to understand this and I don't get why-" he stopped, taking a deep breath. Getting angry wasn't going to fix anything. "You know what, sure." Grabbing the pot he rose from the cave floor, brushing some dust off the back of his overalls. "Be right back, Miyagi."

Taking a deep breath he turned to the cave mouth and walked to the edge, looking around for the ledge and path. At least he wasn't afraid of heights; a somewhat misspent youth had given him a lot of practice in quickly moving from things like rooftops, drainpipes, and out girl's windows when their dad came home.
 
As promised, there were steps at the edge. Broad steps too. As long as one didn't have an overwhelming fear of heights, the high fall from the steps if one stumbled wouldn't produce vertigo at all.

And again as promised, about halfway down the cliff, there was an overhang, which protected a small crevasse, in which there was a spring. The spring was set on a higher ledge, and dropped down moss covered rocks into a little pool, which fed into a larger pool.

In the larger pool was bathing a young woman, perhaps all of five foot, who, if not human, was definitely female. Daniel had caught her completely off guard. She stared at him for a few seconds, a blush coming to her cheeks, before she leaped out of the pool, grabbed her clothes, and proceed to scrabble up a near vertical rock wall, disappearing into a crevasse more than a few yards above.

"I wish you hadn't startled her," a voice from behind Daniel said. "She'll probably find some place to begin bathing now. Shame. She was certainly a looker." The ownder of a voice, standing a solid six feet tall, extended a hand. "I take it your're someone connected with Dragoi. I suspect not a trapper. Not that I'm too worried. I'm too old and the wrong gender to worry about that. Anyway, my name is Prinae and as you can see," he added with a tap to his horns, "I'm an elder of the Reamnos."
 
Daniel's steps slowed as he moved down the stairs. He paused a dozen steps down, staring out over the jungle. Sweet air filled his lungs, clean and crisp and verdant. It was real, wasn't it? No fever dream could possibly be this real. But what did that mean? Was he supposed to be the player building a team and beating the elite four? Just the idea made him uncomfortable. Daniel'd played the pokemon games when he was younger, everyone his age did. He'd even seen a few episodes of the show. But even the smart pokemon all seemed to be completely on board, they enjoyed fighting each other and trainers game them respect and attention. Miyagi up in the cave made it sound like slavery.

Lost in thought, he didn't quite notice the woman in the pool until he heard the splash. Snapping back to the moment he saw the woman covered in wet, black wool in the pool, their gaze meeting for a moment. His mouth opened too late; faster than anyone he'd ever seen she was up on her feet and grabbing at clothes, Daniel's jaw going slack as she easily jumped from rock to rock and vanishing into the rocks.

The voice nearly made him jump out of his skin, and he spun quickly taking a step back from the ram. For the first time he had a chance to get a good look, his mind telling him that it was and wasn't real. The confusion undoubtedly showed on his face, and it was a moment before he was able to extend a hand and straighten up from his wary posture. "Hi," he said slowly, taking Prinae's strong, furred hand. "Daniel. Sorry, I'm...not familiar with Reamnos," he said. It was a complete lie, but something told him he shouldn't advertise the fact that he wasn't from this world. Assuming his overalls didn't already give it away.
 
"Well, I am an example of a older member of my race, and that..."Prinae said with a sigh at the direction in which the black wooled female had disappeared "...was certainly a prime example of a nubile female of the Reamnos. And I see you are carrying water for Dragoi. Well, the Reamnos use this spring as do our distant winged cousins. I've even seen one or two Oncolor here. They always keep the peace of course," Prinae hurriedly added. "if the trappers have done anything, they've stopped us Atadors from squabbling among each other. Not that it's done a lot of good. Well, you're not here to listen to an old Reamno ramble on. Very pleasant meeting you, Daniel, very pleasant." And with that, Prinae began scrambling down the cliff face. Perhaps not as fast as the female whom Daniel had just startled, but still as nimbly.
 
For a moment Daniel had honestly forgotten he was carrying the pot, looking down at it in brief surprise before remembering. "Yes, of course. I'm sure that..." What was someone supposed to say to a talking ram? A talking voyeur ram, apparently. "...that you'll see her again."

Soon enough Prinae was bounding down the cliff face, Daniel looking down at him in wonder. "What the hell is going on here?" he wondered aloud. With a deep sigh he turned towards the spring, the relatively simple task of getting water a nice anchor for his thoughts. When the pot was full he started to walk away, only to pause and look up at the ridge the woman had disappeared behind.

"Excuse me," he called up. "Uh...I'm sorry for disturbing your bath. I don't know if you're still there, but I'm leaving so...I'm talking to rocks. Right," he sighed, turning back to the steps and starting to head back to the cave.
 
Back in the cave, the old man had all the ingredients prepared for his stew, and was just waiting for Daniel to return with the pot of water.
 
The walk back seemed to fly by, Daniel's mind lost in thought. He wanted to say it was impossible; they talked and wore clothes and were clearly intelligent. No one could think they were mere animals. But Miyagi had a point. His own world had plenty of proof of the exact opposite.

Eventually he made it back to the cave, handing the old man the pot before sitting down across the fire from him. He was silent for a few moments before speaking. "What's an...Oncolor?" he asked, the word feeling strange.
 
The old man remained silent for a few minutes, concentrating on putting the roots and dried vegetables and a few spices in the water and stirring it all together, before hanging the pot on the tripod over the fire. Once he was satisfied, he turned his attention to Daniel.

"They are an anthropomorphic version of your mountain lion," the old man said. He took a sniff of the aroma wafting up from the heating water before adding another powder. "Big embracers of the stoic philosophy. Despite their reputations, they tend to avoid conflict, though they are quite territorial with each other. And know, they don't eat other atadors. There's something akin to your mule deer that they're fond of. They will eat humans, though I suspect it's more of a...political statment. You never find a carcass with more than a few bites out of it. They don't even bother cooking it. If you ever run across a mother Oncolor with her cubs, though, the best thing you can do is to exit the area as fast as you can. If a mother Oncolor thinks you're a threat to her children, you won't see another sunrise. Even a well armed Trapper expedition won't cross a mother Oncolor."
 
"...Why?"

It was the question that he'd been stuck with this entire time, and it was finally given voice. "Why would trappers kidnap these people just to make them fight? And why am I here? I ran into your friend Prinae, and he didn't seem to think my being here was strange. Isn't it about time that you finally told me just what's going on?"
 
"Trappers capture a particular subset of atadors, because they often have a...let's call it a skill," the old man said, "that can be harnessed. Initially, only a few trappers existed, and when they marched with various armies, they would release their captured atadors to wreak havoc on their opponents. Over time, any army of any note had at least one trapper, and a kingdom could define its power by the type of atadors its trappers could produce. As time passed, a certain decorum evolved around combat involving trappers and atadors. Nowadays, they have tournaments, much like the jousts of your medieval Europe, where trappers vie for honor and prestige against their fellows."

The old man paused for a moment, producing two wooden bowls and spoons and ladled the contents of the pot into one of them.

"If you don't mind dried vegetables," the old man said, taking a taste from his own bowl, "It's not bad vegetable stew. Care for some?"
 
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