[Game Thread] Pokerole: Mount Coronet Mystery

[Lord Windos]

Spoiler

(...)

However, a few select pokemon trainers are here because something might indeed be amiss after all.  Not in the city itself, but rather in Mt. Coronet, the central location that is said to be the origin of the entire region.

Professor Rowan has hired them to look into the strange happenings rumored to be occurring at the mountain.  Travelers reporting rare and powerful pokemon not native to the mountain appearing, or maybe they found out they spent all day in the mountain's interior when they thought they were only in there for a few hours at worst...

We join the three trainers that the Professor Rowan has hired to look into these strange occurrences as they gather in the Pokemon Center's Lobby this morning, and properly meet each other in person for the first time...

The lobby itself is busy, hosting people and pokemon of all kinds.  Ace Trainers who have bundled up in preparation for heading out to Routes 217 and 216 to train, Snowboarders and Skiers who are double checking their equipment before hitting the slopes on those very same Routes, the rare Bug Catcher complaining about the cold and general lack of Bug types in such frigid areas, Youngsters and Lasses who are still only just starting their journeys, the city's residents coming and going as they retrieve their pokemon from the Nurse Joy who is on duty...Fire, Ice, Fighting, Rock, and Steel type pokemon of all kinds are a common sight among trainers' rosters in this frigid locale (though species that are native to the Sinnoh region are the most common examples).

@Spiritmon, @Mikaruge108, and @Lord Windos, your characters all know that Professor Rowan set aside a table in the corner of the lobby for them to meet him at this morning.  The table in question is currently unoccupied with a sign that says 'RESERVED FOR ROWAN'S PARTY' sitting on it.

So, what do you all do when you enter the lobby?  Do you have any pokemon out with you at this time?  Describe to everyone what they see, if you'd please.

"Endlich Wärme durch den Zunder und seine Flammen! Es ist kalt wie ein frostiges Mädel da draußen, und ich hasse es."

Such was boldly proclaimed as Randolph Schimdt entered into Snowpoint's Pokemon Center alone right and early in the morning, throwing open its doors and brazenly marching right into the lobby with a look of severe consternation, his face reddened from both his irritation at the cool climate and from the very same.

Compared to the local stock of the natives and the trainers that pervaded this sanctuary, this man stood out in stark contrast. Where the Snowpoint people were smooth and pale like fresh cream, had either silky black or blond hair and dark black or bright blue eyes(depends on whether you're going for a Inuit or Scandinavian style with the natives here, or possibly both), his skin was white but ruddy, and not a little leathery, his hair a short wiry, coppery, and almost fiery red that was partly covered by a grey knitted wool cap , and his eyes where a brown so rich and dark you'd swear his iris where clear and filled with mud. He was stout too, but that was perhaps the one quality he actually did share with the locals, so it bears no further mention.

Another notable difference that set him apart from most here was the impressive Garibaldi beard - same color as his hair - covering his entire face, checks and all, that looked shaggy yet somehow carefully maintained and finely groomed. This, along with his creased, worn, and seasoned (and, not to reiterate, irritated) visage marked him as an a older man, looking to be somewhere in his early forties or so, where as most of his 'contemporaries' where only in their early twenties at best and just wee little kiddies at worst. His attire was also markedly different from everyone else, wearing what looked to be a red and black flannel shirt with some sort of thick, black leather apron underneath an almost completely zipped up dull brown and fluffy winter coat (with a ring of fur lining the head opening), denim overall jeans and black steel toe boots with small spikes lining the sole underneath, and some rough but tough looking black leather gloves on.

In sum, Randolph Schimdt looked all the part of a hard bitten, no-nonsense, and easily irritable individual that just did not have time or tolerance to deal with any foolishness, so if you don't have anything useful to say shut up, step off, and get the hell out of his way so he can get on with his business.

'Course, that image was somewhat marred by the fact that Ran was 5 foot and 1, maybe 2 and a half inches tall. In other words, very short.

Oh yeah, did we forget to mention he's a midget? Well, he's a midget, and a mean looking one at that! Guess the saying 'big things come in small packages' was true, for this little man was loaded with a lot of attitude and character by the looks of it!

Cutting back to the present, no doubt everyone's attention was on the brisly wee man after his entrance, at first because of the commotion he caused, and perhaps latter because of the downright oddity that was himself. Ran, sharp of eye and seemingly short on temper (whether that be from the cold or something else was impossible to determine), caught onto this fact real quickly, and panned his gaze at everyone staring, giving them a nice glare for their trouble.

"What are you all looking at? Didn't ya parent tell you that staring is impolite, or were all of you dropped on the head or daft as a Farfetch'd?! Mind your own business, brats!"

Then he promptly ignored the whole lot of people, paying no more head to his audience unless some decide to do something in response to his less than charitable comments (the poor bastards) . He eventually spots the table Professor Rowan reserved for him and the other people he hired for this top secret job of their's - 'Bah, couldn't Old Fashion have arranged this damn meet, greet, and brief somewhere private, instead of the bloody local Pokemon Center? Has he gone daft from all that research of his, or something? *Grumble Grumble.....* - and wastes zero time resuming his march, going right over to it, shrugging off his big hiker-like backpack beside the first chair he reached and hopped right up into it. It took a few seconds to get himself comfortably, but when he did he let out a long *Sigh....* of relief, then reached into his coat, taking out what looked to be a cup thermos and a fairly thick book without its cover jacket. He poured what looked and smell like hot chocolate, kicked back, opened his book, and began reading, taking occasional sips of his beverage as he passed the time waiting for Old Fashion and everyone else to arrive.

With all this secrecy and intrigue surrounding this job of his, he was curious to finally learn what the hell he was supposed to be doing, but damn it if the weather and all these youngsters weren't doing a fine job of sapping his spirits, and waiting around was doing no favors for him. Reading and a nice hot drink was just the thing then to pass the time and take a breather then - so long as no idiot or cocky young trainer with too much aggression and not enough sense in their skull decided to come bug him. If they did.....we'll, they'll soon regret that decisions of their's right quick, once he was through with THEM!

Such were the thoughts of Randolph Schimdt, as he awaited for things to well and truly begin.