Burnout 2.12
Shayne HayesSeptember 2015
We kept walking. We’d spent the morning breaking up a few of the bread bowl-sized pumpkins. The seeds went into a ziplock bag. The chunks were wrapped in foil for later.
My arm was still numb. I had no idea how exactly Leech Seed worked, but the pins and needles feeling wouldn’t go away no matter how I tried to stretch or shake it loose. I had to trade with Pierce; there was no way I’d be aiming anything with two hands. He could use my new crossbow while I got the peashooter.
Not long after we left the spooky pumpkin patch, we came upon another dead end. The wall here looked a little different from the hedge maze around us. For one, it was a more muted green, a shade that reminded me of military camo rather than verdant life.
“Cherubi? Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Pierce asked.
“Cher? Cherubi… Cher? Ubi-cherubi!” it squeaked out. It bounced out of his arms and began to poke and prod at the wall in confusion.
I frowned in thought. The maze changed; I knew that already. Scout had been using its rapid growth to mark out where we’d been. Naturally, it made sense that something else could change the maze as well.
I approached the wall. This dungeon didn’t outright challenge us in a physical way. Pierce was struggling, but that had more to do with his ordeal before the maze, not anything the King of Bountiful Harvests had done to him. With that in mind, I wondered if this was an obstacle that could be bypassed, maybe a puzzle of some sort.
Then, something caught my eye. The wall was not a solid thing, but a barricade made of interlocking vines. And through the cap, I spotted a single eye. I was already backpedalling before it registered.
I was too slow. Had it not been for Scout, I wouldn’t have made it as a sentient venus flytrap leapt from the vines, jaws open wide and reaching for my face. Its teeth, as sharp as any knife I owned, just barely nicked the tip of my nose as a howl of wind slammed it back.
“Fuck!” I shouted.
My hand closed around the pistol but I was more concerned with surviving the next few seconds. I hurled myself back as Rocket leapt in front of me. Rolling beneath him, I rose to one knee and snapped off two shots into the vines. One went wide, another barely grazed its vine-like body.
Carnivine. I was dealing with a carnivine. With a name like that, it was no wonder what the damn thing ate. I didn’t know what the dex said. It didn’t evolve. It probably ate meat. Its Vine Whip was coming for my head.
I threw myself aside again and rolled to my feet. I could see more coming out from the wall of vines. Two. Five. Six total. Too many. Already, they were starting to overwhelm Rocket. Vines wrapped around his tail as he snarled and thrashed like a crocodile in a fishing net.
“Scout, Taunt into Air Cutter,” I barked. I needed some of the heat off Rocket. Fighting wasn’t really an option right now. “We’re leaving!”
Scout let out a sharp trill and obeyed. Whatever he said to them, they immediately focused on the bird. Lashing vines rose up to chase him, giving my starter the chance to tear himself free.
Rocket came to my side and the carnivine must have seen us slipping away because they broke away from the Taunt. There were no “turns;” they didn’t stick to Scout for long. Still, my tranquill had done his job and cut away some of those vines with buzzsaw winds.
As we scrambled to safety, Swagsire took a deep breath and blew out. Out came caltrops that shone with a sickly violet light. Toxic Spikes. How he could learn those but not Poison Sting, I had no clue. I was too happy to question it and chalked it up as one more thing I didn’t understand.
We kept running. Poison should deter most grass types, but I had no idea if they could meld through the hedge walls they hadn’t created. Minutes later, we returned to the clearing where we’d spent the night.
Except, it looked nothing like the one we’d left. There was no lean-to. There was no pumpkin patch. The only evidence of our presence here was the remnants of the fire we’d built.
I shook my head. “Fucking ghosts.”
X
We rested there for two hours to catch our breath and grab a bite to eat. Pumpkin again, not that we had any other choice. Rocket especially looked like he was suffering, though he put up with it with a stone-faced grunt.
We also had to make a plan going forward, not that there was ever much of a plan. Until now, we’d followed the cherubi, trusting that the local pokemon could act as our guide. It sounded like a suitably ranger-y thing to do in my mind.
But now that the carnivore had taken up residence on our way there, that wasn't an option. I couldn’t remember a carnivine’s natural moveset, they were “dex fillers” even in the generation that debuted them, but I didn’t think it was that deep. Vine Whip. Bite. Maybe constricting moves like Bind?
“Carnivine,” I said to Pierce. “What do you remember about them? You played Diamond and Pearl, right?”
“R-Right,” he stammered. “Uh… They bite… Sorry, I’ve got nothing.”
“Don’t apologize; I can’t do any better. Poisons and powders. Do you remember them using anything like that?”
“No, but I don’t think I’ve ever trained one before, either.”
I dug into my backpack and pulled out a spray-on antiseptic. I dabbed a bit on my nose, just in case the sentient flytraps had something on those fangs before grabbing Rocket by the scruff of his neck. He’d taken a few bites and his thick fur wasn’t entirely effective.
The encounter replayed in my mind. Pierce hadn’t fired the crossbow. I couldn’t blame him too much. I’d read somewhere that during the Vietnam War, a big percentage of soldiers returned from engagements without ever firing their weapons. Whether out of a reluctance to kill or a fear of drawing attention to themselves, there was the initial hurdle of committing to a fight.
“For now, we assume they don’t have poisons,” I said finally. I clenched my still injured hand. The numbing feeling had gone away, but those little puncture holes still hurt. “How many did you count, Pierce?”
“Uh… F-Four?” he stammered.
“Six. Don’t guess. If you don’t know, say so. If you do, say so. Throwing out random numbers like that will only make your team question themselves, maybe fatally.”
“R-Right, sorry. I-I panicked.”
“The question now is whether we can beat them if we go back.”
“Go back? We’re going back?”
“Maybe… I don’t like our chances much. Scout has a type advantage, and so does Swagsire, but six pokemon are still six pokemon.”
“Yeah… I don’t think the terrain is good for us, either. Scout can’t really fly around freely with the hedges in the way.”
“Good, you’re thinking. And what does your cherubi think about this?”
He gazed down at the little fruit pokemon on his lap. It hadn’t been too useful in a fight, but that was probably asking too much of it. “Cherubi? Do you know where you’re going?”
The cherubi tilted its head in thought. It looked puzzled. Its sole leaf pointed the way we came. “Cher. Cherubi.”
“The offering for the king is there?”
“Bi.” A nod, or its best approximation of one.
“Past the carnivine?”
“Bi.”
“Can it be found anywhere else?”
“Cher…” A shrug, which I interpreted as yes, but unlikely.
“Can we go around?” Pierce asked.
“Bi. Cherubi-bi.” It was hopping up and down, about as enthusiastic an agreement as we’d gotten so far.
“Great! How do we do that? Do you know where to go?”
“Cher? Cherubi cher.”
“You don’t know?”
“Bi.”
Pierce looked at me in confusion. “So… I think cherubi knows that there are other paths, but doesn’t know which ones.”
“That sounds about right. There might also be other offerings too.”
“I don’t want to go fight the carnivine. You said a ranger avoids picking fights at all cost.”
“Not all, but you’re right. We avoid fighting unless we need to. Even if we can break through the carnivine, we’d be injured and still have to make our way back.”
We put it to a vote, us and our pokemon. In the end, we determined that the odds of us losing members, or being too injured to continue regardless of victory, were too high. The carnivine could have their slice of the maze; we’d have to go around.
I had Pierce take out one of my bolts and stick it in the ground next to the path that led back to the fountain. Eventually, if we explored enough of the maze while using this clearing as our nexus, we’d hit a point where Scout’s trick with the growing hedges wouldn’t be enough to guide us home anymore.
That done, we set off.
X
It was sunset when we stumbled upon our next clearing. The maze widened out to reveal a meadow of flowers. Here, I found flowers of every shade, size, height, and aroma. They’d been planted without obvious structure or pattern. Tulips grew with roses, which grew in the shade of sunflowers and hydrangeas and a dozen others I couldn’t begin to name.
Yet, every one of them existed in perfect harmony. Not one flower crowded out another; the setting sun cast an orange hue over them all. It was as if the entire meadow was one, giant bouquet, arranged for the glory of the king. And at the center of this meadow, I found its caretaker.
She was another lilligant, virtually identical to the one that had taught us to dance yesterday. But rather than a dance troupe, around her were a group of petilil. They hovered around her frantically, bobbing up and down and weaving in complex patterns that reminded me of the waggle dance of bees.
Clearly, something was very wrong. The lilligant trilled and waved, a dance that was as much part of her language as the sounds she made. When the petilil did not calm down, she too became more frantic.
“Pierce, have cherubi talk to her for us,” I whispered. Lilligant didn’t seem like an aggressive species. “Ask her what’s wrong.”
“Alright, cherubi, can you? We might be able to help,” he suggested, gently prodding our guide forward.
The cherubi didn’t seem to have any qualms about that. It hopped down and began to chirp and squeak, catching her attention. The petilil scattered, some hiding behind their caretaker, but a few hovered closer to circle us.
“Peti? Petilil?”
“Cher-ubi~ Cher.”
What followed was a rapidfire exchange that I couldn’t understand even with my newfound empathy. As best as I could tell, there was some nervousness, but no aggression. That anxiety was turned inward so we weren’t the cause, just odd interlopers.
Slowly, the lilligant explained for us. I hadn’t expected to play charades with a dancing flower for the second time in this dungeon, but it sure beat fighting for my life.
We eventually parsed out what she meant. The gist seemed to be that she was the caretaker here, of both the flowers and petilil. One of her children–no idea if she was literally their mother–had gone missing. She had not returned despite having been told to come home by sunset.
I felt my shoulders droop. I’d hoped we could bum some space to set up camp, maybe roast a few more pumpkins. Alas, I knew a quest when it was being offered.
I looked to Rocket, then to Scout and Swagsire. Their expressions were the same, mirrored on my own.
“Hey, lilligant, do you know where I can find an offering for the King of Bountiful Harvests?” I asked, already suspecting the answer.
Sure enough, the flower-girl dipped into an elegant courtesy. “Lilli.”
“Yeah, I figured.” With a reluctant sigh, I shoved my backpack into Pierce’s arms. “Set up camp. Find us a corner of the flowerbed and slow-roast a pumpkin. You know how to do that?”
“H-Huh? Me?” he stammered. “You’re going out there? It’s getting dark.”
“It is, which is why we need to find the petilil quickly.”
“I… Okay, but be careful.”
I gestured to my pokemon. “We’ll be fine. Just leave some food for me.”
“Got it.”
If this dungeon was a garden, then it stood to reason that the lilligant were gardeners. And if they were gardeners, then they knew the garden better than anyone. They were in the best position to help us. Or, test us, as the case may be.
It was a simple chain of logic, but I was pretty sure I was right. And in the event that I was not, I’d be helping out a pokemon. Feeding a bunch of wooper got me oran berry seeds in the Stampede Reservoir so I felt pretty good about that.
Rocket quickly ran around, sniffing each of the petilil. No individual smelled quite the same, but they had to share some constants. And with the scent of flowers so thick here, we wouldn’t lose our way back.
X
Now that we weren’t held up by Pierce, we made good time. The cut on his back and his run in with Confuse Ray had really slowed us down. Not fifteen minutes later, we found the wayward petilil.
I was right to not put this off. We found it surrounded by three paras. It sported cuts all over. Its wounds leaked nectar-like blood and I saw one of the paras lick at its claws. Apparently, petilil were edible. Also apparently, the “intruders to the king’s garden” were more dangerous for the residents than I’d thought.
I gave orders through a quick series of whistles. Fighting three paras beat six carnivine any day and we had the initiative.
Scout dove down with Air Cutter as Rocket picked out a target on his own. The last tried to blow powder at us but a current of air negated that cleanly. It was then downed by a front flip Poison Tail from Sir Swagsire.
Really, battling those things was more of a chore than a genuine threat. I didn’t even need to do anything this time. Tired, grumpy, and six mushrooms richer, I returned with the petilil in my arms.
“Lilli? Lilligant!” she cried out as she skipped towards us. She took the petilil from me and immediately began checking it over like only a mother could.
A soft, comforting scent began to waft through the air. She reached up to her flower and began to rub at the center, gathering pollen. When she had enough to roughly fill a tablespoon, she began to mold it into a ball.
She rolled it in her hand like a snowball, packing it tighter and tighter. While she did this, the ball glowed a verdant green. Soon, she had a pill made of compacted pollen, about the size of the last joint of my pinkie. Gently, insistently, she pressed it against the petilil’s mouth.
The petilil struggled in her caretaker’s grasp. Eventually, she let out a huffy pout and took the pollen. It was funny how human that response was, like a child being fed cough medicine against their will.
The scene took my breath away.
Medicine. I was watching pokemon-pharmacology. I knew grass types could heal themselves of course. And naturally, they were pretty smart. But not once did it occur to me that they’d be resourceful enough to understand and utilize the immense value of their own bodies.
I eyed Pierce and his cherubi in a new light. Maybe, just maybe, that cherubi had more potential than I gave it credit for. No pokemon was worthless, but I had a feeling Doctors Nguyen and Lansdowne would be very happy to meet the little bugger.
I settled down next to Pierce. He had a small campfire going in a corner of the clearing. The area surrounding the firepit was suspiciously free of every sort of plant matter so I assumed he’d had help. Inside the pit, I could see several bundles wrapped in foil. In his hand was a granola wrapper.
He chuckled sheepishly. “Ah… I found it in your bag and… sorry.”
“Whatever, man, it’s fine,” I waved him off. I kicked one of the loose branches into the fire. “How long ago did you put in the pumpkins?”
“Uh… Ten minutes or so? I also used some of the seasonings you had in your backpack.”
“Good work. Let’s give it another fifteen. Oh, and the fire’s too strong.”
“It is?”
“Hotter doesn’t mean it’ll cook any faster. You’ll just torch the outside and waste food.”
“Oh, I get it. We don’t have much water, though.”
“Then let’s hope you wrapped the pumpkins tight,” I drawled. I nudged Swagsire. “Dump some dirt on the fire, please.”
“Woop~” the little guy sang. He barfed up a glob of mud about the size of his head. The fire went out and suddenly, we had red coals.
While we were eating, I noticed the lilligant take her leave with her petilil. She returned several minutes later, a bouquet of flowers in her leafy grip.
The bouquet, secured by vines at the base, was composed of several different flowers, none of which I could name. The flowers had been pulled from the dirt with their roots included, clearly so that I might replant them. Each delicate root had been wrapped and braided, though how a lilligant managed that without fingers, I had no clue.
Of pride of place was a cluster of six-petaled flowers. They had white centers with golden pistils and stamens. Their petals bled pink towards the edges. They reminded me of…
“A-Are those gracideas?” I asked hesitantly. They were symbols of Shaymin, and also the flowers which best symbolized gratitude.
“Gant,” she nodded, insistently pushing the bouquet into my hands. “Lilligant-gant.”
I took the offered bouquet with a smile. Maybe it wasn’t a particularly useful reward, but I appreciated the sentiment. Who knew? Perhaps a grassy hedgehog would pay Carnelian Bay a visit in the future. “For me? Are you sure I can take these?”
“Lilli.”
“Thank you. It’s lovely. Do you know where I can find an offering for the king?”
“Lilli. Lilli-gant lilligant,” she said.
After another round of charades, I gathered that she’d take us there tomorrow morning. Feeling hopeful, I went to sleep with the caretaker of the forest watching over us.
X
The next morning, our new guide took us by the hand and led us through the maze. We literally danced our way there because apparently, dance really was that important to these pokemon.
Far from the fountain, we found what we were looking for. There was a little carrot patch nestled in what I might have missed as a dead end had it not been pointed out to me. The patch was divided in two. The leaves of the carrots seemed to shimmer, some with frosted dew and others with an almost ethereal aura.
I wanted to pull my hair out. We went through all this trouble… for carrots. Granted, I could see that these were very special carrots, but there was something incredibly frustrating about this. The “tribute” the dungeon wanted was not a crown, nor mushrooms taken as proof of victory against his foes, nor pumpkins to decorate his table. It was carrots, feed for the king’s horses.
I reached for the frosted one and Pierce reached for a shadowy one. The lilligant stopped us both.
“Lilli-gant! Gant!” the normally soft-spoken pokemon shouted. She jagged Pierce back, then clapped her hands once.
“One?” I asked. Made sense, I was the one who found the petilil. “Will the king accept one carrot for both of us?”
“Lilli.”
“Well… Okay, then.”
I shrugged helplessly. If the caretaker said I could take only one, then I’d take only one. Seeing how I didn’t know their significance, I settled for the icy carrot, which I’d initially reached for anyway.
The System responded as soon as I plucked it from the ground.
Congratulations, you have acquired a suitable tribute for the King of Bountiful Harvests. All may gather before him.
Pierce and I looked at each other. He let out a relieved sigh. “That’s me too, right? Thank god. It’s finally over.”
“Looks like it.” I turned to the lilligant. “Thank you for this. And for the bouquet. I’ll plant them all as soon as I get back home.”
“Gant Lilligant” she sang happily.
That was our goodbye. We saw the lilligant back to her clearing and headed towards the maze’s entrance.
Trekking back to the clearing that housed the pumpkin patch was easy enough. We then followed the crossbow bolt Pierce left to show us which of the branches led to the fountain. Without any pokemon to fight and buoyed by the thought of going home, we managed to make the whole trip by sundown.
There, we saw the fountain again. I offered the king his bounty, a single, frosted carrot for his horses. Now that I thought about it, I supposed it was possible that one of the horses was an ice type. In that case, maybe the second was a dark or ghost type, though the connection eluded me.
Thinking back, this whole dungeon seemed like a waste of time. I was tired, hungry, my arm hurt, and all I had to show for it was a handful of mushrooms, some flowers and pumpkin seeds, and a few new entries for Sabrina. I felt like I’d run a marathon, only to find that the race wasn’t even scheduled until next week. I really could have waited to clear this dungeon.
Then, I glanced behind me. I saw Pierce, looking even more dead on his feet than I was. The pudgy boy was alive. And, just maybe, the maze wasn’t for me. Maybe, what I saw as one, long chore was a far more impactful series of lessons for the younger boy.
Slowly, I placed the carrot into the bowl. It was probably the trick of the light, but I could have sworn the bipedal, deer-like pokemon nodded ever so slightly at me. Really… Legends…
Congratulations! You have cleared the Rubicon Trailhead Dungeon. May your presence be a balm to those who undergo hardship. In light of your achievement, the King of Bountiful Harvests rewards you with the following:
- Pierce Townsend has been added to the RKS System as a trainer.
- Trainer Townsend has obtained a packet of oran berry seeds.
- One cherubi has been added to Trainer Townsend’s party.
- Trainer Hayes has already been recognized by the RKS System and is not eligible for a companion pokemon.
- Trainer Hayes’ has been blessed with increased aura.
- Trainer Hayes has obtained a packet of iceroot carrot seeds.
From this point forth, the denizens of this dungeon will be seeded across the world in appropriate habitats.
The dungeon will remain open from this point forth for those who seek greater challenges.
I looked down as a packet of seeds appeared in my hand. Sure enough, the carrot I’d offered had been an “iceroot” carrot. That was clearly very significant, but it’d have to remain a mystery for another time.
I was more concerned with the “increased aura” the System promised me. Aura was life. It was possibly the single most important resource I had. And yet, I’d yet to be able to consciously use it, never mind figure out a way to get more of it.
“Status,” I called.
Trainer Profile
Name: Shane HayesTitle: Novice TrainerBody: C-Mind: DSoul: D+
Registered Pokemon/Bond LevelLinoone (Rocket): 48/100Tranquill (Scout): 36/100Wooper-P (Sir Swagsire): 20/100
PerksNA
I gained more Soul. I didn’t know if that meant I was now a more spiritual person, or that I had more soul-juice to throw around. It would have been nice to have a quantifiable number assigned to each attribute. Being able to assign my own points would have been great as well.
Alas, that was all wistful thinking. This wasn’t a video game, commonalities be damned. Assuming each letter grade had a plus and minus modifier, I could assume I’d next get a C- rank in Soul.
My arm still hurt, so it seemed that clearing the dungeon didn’t magically heal all ails the second time you did it. That was a pity; I’d had thoughts of using an easy dungeon as a cure-all if I ever found one. Then again, that would have been way too convenient.
“Pierce, your back. You got cut by a paras,” I said.
“Huh? Oh! It doesn’t hurt anymore!” he giggled, probably high off his very minor step into superhuman-dom.
“Yup. First time you get aura, you become a more perfect you.”
“How does that work?”
“How should I know? Some mysteries are best left for later. Come on, kid. Let’s go home.”
Author’s Note
Ugh, this dungeon kicked my ass so hard. But it’s done.
Yes, lilligant are all female. Yes, they can learn Pollen Puff. Yes, pollen is basically flower-sperm. No, I don’t know why. Don’t think too hard.
Animal Fact: This one’s long but I couldn’t help it.
Primatologist Kimran Miller, University of Northern Iowa, studied tufted capuchin monkeys for ten months. They specifically looked at “urine-washing,” in which monkeys pee on their hands and feet. You’re free to guess the behavioral reasons before reading.
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Clear? Clear.
Most of you probably guessed that urine-washing is either for temperature control or territory marking. Fair guess. You’re likely wrong on both counts.
Her team found similar frequencies of urine-washing regardless of weather. Since humidity nor temperature affect this, urine-washing is not used to keep monkeys cool. This frequency did not change significantly based on the number of other monkeys around the individual, further suggesting that it is not a way to mark territory.
But if you guessed it’s a sex thing, you a) know me well and b) would still only be half right. Dr. Miller and her team found that the alpha of the group of roughly two dozen monkeys urine-washed his hands and feet twice as often when solicited by females.
She thinks that urine-washing is their way of conveying warm, fuzzy feelings to females. It essentially tells the females that their solicitation is working and that he will not be aggressive. Either that, or it’s a habit that denotes excitement.
She also found that when monkeys got aggressive and then they urine-washed, the aggression usually ended (87% of the time). This suggests that urine-washing is also a form of appeasement. “Whatever happened is in the past.” In support of this, monkeys that urine-washed more frequently had lower cortisol (stress hormone) levels.
So, there you go. Monkeys pee on their hands and feet and it’s a gesture of peace. Bros, if you ever fight with your ladies, try it out and tell me how the single life is treating you.