June Tasks: Part FINAL: Dig for Misery

    Patterson and Whitaker stood in front of Luke like a pair of scolded children before their headmaster. Luke tapped one foot impatiently – he was wearing an expression that neither Patterson or Whitaker had seen on his face before. He didn’t quite look angry as he crossed his gloved arms in front of his chest, as much as he seemd to just be intensely disappointed. Somehow, this was all the worse, and made the pair of them squirm uncomfortably. A little way back, Cassidy looked on, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. Marcus the Skrelp curled his tail around the Floatzel’s shoulder, staring on in apparent amusement at the chastised duo. All was quiet except the hooting of distant Noctowls in the far-off forest, and the tapping of one of Luke’s feet.

    “So, um... I take it you’re happy to see us?” Patterson said jocularly, attempting to break the tension between them. Luke was silent and stony-faced in response. Cassidy looked like he was trying to burn a hole through Patterson’s forehead with his glare. Whitaker somehow felt like the atmosphere itself was closing in and attempting to crush him. Eventually, Luke let out a frustrated sounding sigh, shaking his great head.

    “Y’know, I can’t figure you fellas out. I mean, look.” He indicated behind him towards the hut that they’d helped Luke build earlier. “You two managed to do some real good, constructive work this morning. Why’d you decide to screw it all up?”

    Both fighting types were quiet.

    “That quiet y’hear right now?” Markus rasped. “That’s guilt talkin.’ Lock ‘em up and sling away the key.” Cassidy reached up, slapping the seahorse gently under the chin to shut him up. Luke frowned.

    “C’mon now.” The Swampert insisted. “You must have known that a lot of the stuff you did was wrong. But you did it anyway. Why?”

    Patterson continued to be quiet, looking at the space in between his shoes like a toddler who’d been told to stand in the corner. However, after a moment, Whitaker looked up and met Luke’s gaze with a look of his own – a look that was steely and unapologetic, but at the same time somehow resigned, almost forlorn.

    “I wanted to win.” He said simply.

    Luke raised a confused eyebrow. “That’s it?” Meanwhile, Cassidy scowled even harder, his wrinkled-up nose and sharp fangs punctuating his unamused growl.

    “Yeah.” Whitaker replied to Luke. “Besides, you might say that what we did was wrong, but it got the right result. That ninja’s behind bars now, and it’s all thanks to what we did.” His mind shot back to their first encounter with the Sceptile in the marketplace, prompting to make a correction. “Well, for the most part.”

    “Well, I can sorta see the positives.” Luke replied, his expression softening a little.

    “Aw, c’mon now...” Cassidy groaned in the background. “Don’t let them off that easily.”

    Luke nodded in agreement. “Don’t worry about that.” He stated. “Results are good, but they’re not everything. You got the job done, but you made us all look bad in the process. It’s not always just doing something that matters, even if that’s a good thing – how you do it can matter too.”

    It was a simple statement, but for some reason it resonated with Whitaker. It got him thinking about incidents in the past, before they’d come to Andallust.

    “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Patterson blurted out, killing Whitaker’s moment of introspection. “What happens now, though?”

    Luke frowned. “C’mon, Pat. There’s a lesson to be learned here.”

    “Is there any way we can learn it without a lecture?” Patterson responded.

    “Maybe.” Luke replied bluntly. “I could throw you out of the guild.” Both Patterson and Whitaker’s stomachs started doing backflips.

    “I say you do it anyway.” Cassidy grumbled. Whitaker’s heart felt like it was doing somersaults in a bid to outdo his stomach.

    “You can stop looking so worried.” Luke told them. “You guys did do a good job of bringing that ninja in, and you’ve made yourselves too useful to get rid of too quickly. I’m gonna have to put a strike on your record, though. You did too much damage to the image of the guild for me to let you off scot free.”

    “So, we get a number put on our application form?” Patterson said, sounding almost disappointed. “That’s a bit of a weak punishment.”

    “I wasn’t finished yet.” Luke said, deadpan. He reached down, picking up a shovel from the ground and holding it out to Whitaker, whose shoulders suddenly sagged as he suddenly became acutely aware of how much every muscle in his body still ached after their struggle with the Sceptile. With his other hand, he nonchalantly pointed towards the hut, and the tunnels below.

    “We need to crack open a path to the first floor of the dungeon.” Luke told the two of them. “You bust faces well enough. Let’s see you bust some rocks instead.”

    “You call this a punishment?” Patterson snorted. “Sounds like fun!”

    Whitaker stifled a tired groan, as his weary arms and legs seemed to creak with fatigue.

    “Not so fast.” Luke admonished Patterson, waving a chunky finger in his direction. “We can’t just have you smashing the caverns up willy-nilly now. We need you to use a little finesse.”

    Patterson’s face screwed up as if he’d just smelt something foul. “Fin-what?” He grunted.

    “Look, you just need to be careful.” Luke said. “The city counts on the clean water below the surface. Sure, you could swing in like a pair of wrecking balls and unearth the entrance eventually, but if you make too much of a mess, then you might end up fouling up the city’s water supply. Do that, and then I might just have to consider throwing you out of the guild after all.”

    “Luke, do you think this is a good idea?” Cassidy asked. “Are you really telling me you trust these knuckleheads not to screw up?”

    “Not entirely.” Luke admitted. “That’s why I’d like you to keep an eye on them.”

    “Whaaa?” Cassidy cried out, looking aghast. Marcus almost toppled off of his shoulder. “Why do I have to suffer because of their screwup?”

    “Whaddya mean, suf-“ Patterson managed to say before Whitaker clasped a hand around the Hitmonchan’s mouth to keep him from saying anything too damaging.

    Luke turned to face the irate Floatzel, spreading his arms in appeal.

    “Aw, c’mon buddy.” He pleaded. “For me?”

    Cassidy growled, before finally relenting. “Alright.” He conceded. “But only to keep these chumps from screwing things up even more! I happen to like my water clean, thank you very much!”

    “Hey, I’m sure that this’ll be quick.” Luke said. “It’s just digging. How complicated can it be?”

---

    “Aw, c’mon now.” Whitaker moaned, his voice echoing in the dark, damp space. “That’s not fair.”

    The pair of them came up to a hard rock at the end of the tunnel. There were two patches of softer looking dirt interspersed with various stones and slabs of brittle-looking slate. On the central rock, there was a pair of arrows scrawled in chalk, each pointing in opposite directions. In between the two arrows, a mess of question marks had been hastily drawn in.

    “What the hell does that even mean?” Patterson said, awkwardly clutching a shovel in between his gloves.

    “What do you think?” Cassidy snapped. “That there rock in the middle is as solid, as, well, rock. We figure that there’s two different ways to head from here.”

    “That’s left or right, just in case you geniuses needed it spelling out for you.” Marcus snarked.

    "But which way’s the right one?” Whitaker asked.

    Cassidy only shrugged in response. “Iunno. That’s for y’all to figure out.”

    “How?” Whitaker asked, brow furrowing angrily. Patterson seemed to liven up for a moment.

    “Hey, you just gotta use that trick that you’ve got!”

    “What trick?” Puzzled Whitaker.

    “Y’know, the one where you see into the future to dodge attacks!” Patterson called, momentarily looking a little starry-eyed with a touch of genuine admiration.

    “You mean the whole Anticipation thing?” Whitaker replied, scratching at the back of his head. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way. It only works to sense something that’s gonna happen. Usually something bad.”

    “Well, you can at least check each route, and at least try to Anticipate what’ll happen if we go that way. C’mon, it’s worth a shot!”

    Whitaker turned to face Cassidy, as if looking for some input. He returned the gaze with a shrug. “What are y’all looking at me for?” He asked.

    “I dunno. You’ve done this whole exploration thing before, right?” Whitaker asked. “Don’t you have any ideas?”

    “Hey, I’m a Floatzel, not a Digglet.” Cassidy answered.”Just do whatever you think will get the job done fastest. I want to get back to my aquarium back home. Bansai probably needs feeding.”

    Whitaker suppressed a heavy sigh of frustration before turning back to face Patterson. “I guess we’ve got no choice.” He said. He stepped forward to the left hand wall, closing his eyes and concentrating intensely.

    “Well, are you Anticipating anything if we go that way?” Patterson asked impatiently.

    “No, nothing.” Whitaker replied, opening his eyes and relaxing. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”

    “Well, try the other one. See if you get anything.” Patterson requested.

    With a shrug, Whitaker complied, stepping towards the right hand wall and focusing. For a moment, he couldn’t feel anything. However, after a second, he twitched as he felt a faint tingle of something in the back of his mind, a small but insistent alert that a nebulous something was waiting if they were to head in that direction.

    “What do you sense?” Patterson asked eagerly, noticing the Toxicroak’s flinch.

    “I’ve no idea.” Whitaker answered. “There’s something that way. That doesn’t mean that it’s something good.”

    "Good enough for me!” An enthusiastic Patterson announced, grasping his shovel with both hands. “Let’s get digging!” He called before anybody could suggest otherwise.

---

    Patterson grunted loudly as he drove the shovel into the dirt in front of him, almost fumbling and dropping the tool he did so. Sweat torrented down his brow as the metal embedded deep into the soil. He tried to pry a clod of earth free, but was sent sprawling backwards amidst a burst of splinters as the handle snapped cleanly free just above the blade of the shovel, which remained embedded in the wall.

    “Damn it!” the Hitmonchan yelled, throwing the useless handle down to the ground in a temper. “Digging sucks!”

    Meanwhile, Whitaker leant against the wall, panting heavily, using his own shovel to keep himself propped upright. “You’re... preaching to the...choir.” He wheezed.

    “This wouldn’t be a big problem if a certain somebody would help!” Patterson said, swinging around to round upon Cassidy – only to find that the Floatzel had fallen asleep at some point, as he sat on the ground, Marcus the Skrelp curled up around his shoulders, likewise snoozing gently. Patterson scowled his way for a moment, as if considering waking the guild leader up, but instead turned back towards the excavation with a snort of anger, snatching Whitaker’s shovel away from him, almost causing him to topple forward. Ignoring the Toxicroak’s weary protests, he attacked the wall with renewed vigour. However, after a moment, his shovel seemed to jerk forward into the wall very suddenly. He turned to face Whitaker.

    “I just hit air on the other side of this wall.” He announced triumphantly.

    “Really?” Whitaker asked hopefully, seeming to perk up.

    “Yeah, help me break this down!” Patterson requested. Jumping forward, Whitaker began to assist Patterson in crumbling down the dirt barrier in between them and the empty space beyond. Cool air began to flow through the hole into the stuffy tunnel, which gradually widened bit by bit. Eventually it was wide enough to climb through. Whitaker nodded to Patterson, and began to clamber through the hole. He stuck his head through into what appeared to be a large, wide open cavern, the air moist but chill. As he clambered through, he could hear what sounded like lapping waves off to his right. A pale blue light came from the same direction, illuminating the entire area. Dropping to his feet, he began to take note of his surroundings as his eyes adjusted to the new lighting.

    “Is it the entrance to the dungeon?” Patterson called, clumsily clambering into the chamber himself.

    “It doesn’t look like it.” Whitaker said.

    “Damn it.” Patterson cursed as he got to his feet, dusting off his vest. “Well, at least it’s kind of pretty in here.”

    Whitaker could only nod in agreement as he looked around. The pale blue glow was coming from a pool off to the duo’s right. Various small lights moved and shifted from below the surface, casting azure ripples of pale light off the stalactites hanging from the ceiling of the chamber. Looking a little closer, the light seemed to be as a result of various small Pokémon living below the water’s surface – he could make out shoals of Chinchou cruising between the outcroppings jutting upwards from the pool’s floor, with the occasional Staryu clinging to the rocks. Whitaker was impressed that he was able to make out the aquatic life beneath the surface so clearly – it was a testament to how clean the water was.

    “As pretty as it all is, I’d rather get back to the surface some time soon.” Patterson interjected. “Do you see the way out from here?”

    Whitaker dragged his gaze away from the pool, scanning the walls of the chamber for some kind of passage. The walls all looked impenetrable, with the exception of the one that the two of them had just broken through. However, at the far end of the chamber, opposite the entrance that they had made, there was a formation that looked like a cave leading away from the chamber. However, it was behind a tangle of stalactites and stalagmites that were meshed together like a Sharpedo’s fangs. The pair of them approached the formation, looking at the barrier of intertwined stones with a touch of consternation.

    “Man, that’s gonna take a while to break through.” Whitaker observed. Patterson gave a grunt of assent, his eyes wandering around for an option that might require a little less effort. An uncharacteristically sly smile crossed his face as he found one. He nudged Whitaker in the shoulder.

    “Hey, do you see what I see over there?” He asked, pointing to a point near to the water’s edge. Whitaker tracked his eyes over to the spot, where he saw a pointy red growth jutting from the soil.

    “Looks like a regular Bustershoot to me.” He answered. “I don’t see what you’re...”  His jaw fell open ever so slightly as the penny dropped. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

    “What do you mean?” Patterson asked, looking a little puzzled. “It’d be way quicker than trying to dig our way through.”

    “But didn’t you hear what Luke said?” Whitaker replied. “We’ve got to do this carefully.”

    “What Luke doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Patterson responded with a shrug. “And even if that shoot went off, I doubt sleeping beauty back there would hear it. And even if he did, we could just pretend it was an accident. Let’s just do it so that we can get out of here quicker.”

    Whitaker pondered the suggestion. On the one hand, his aching body was telling him to do it. But at the same time, something was bothering him. He glanced over to the clear blue water. He knew that it would end up being soiled if they set off a bustershoot this close. In addition, the water’s blue hue reminded him of somebody else, and the advice that he gave.

    It’s not always just doing something that matters, even if that’s a good thing – how you do it can matter too.

    Whitaker stood up a little taller. “No. Let’s do it properly.” He said.

    “Huh?” Patterson marvelled. “What, are you frightened of a little fireworks or something?” Patterson’s eyes narrowed as another possibility crossed his mind. “Don’t tell me you turned into a goody-two-shoes when I wasn’t looking.”

    “I just want to do something right for once!” An indignant Whitaker replied. “I’m tired of screwing up and half-assing things. Nobody’s gonna respect us if we keep going on this way – I thought that you cared about that more than anybody!”

    “You think anybody’s gonna respect us for what we do in this dingy pit where nobody can see?” Patterson angrily asked.

    “No, but people sure aren’t gonna want to be our friends when the wells turn up mud instead of water, are they?” The Toxicroak responded, raising his voice to match his incensed partner, who threw his hands in the air.

    “Alright, fine! Have it your way!” He cried out petulantly. “But don’t think that I’m gonna scratch my way through that barricade with a toothpick!” He shouted out, turning his back towards Whitaker and stalking towards the tangle of rock in their way. He cricked his neck from one side and then the other audibly, drawing his fists up in front of him. “I’m smashing right through it one way or another!”

    “Weren’t you listening!” Whitaker yelled after him “We need to do this careful-“

    He was interrupted as Patterson slammed a fist through a jutting stalactite, the pointed tip of it splintering off and whizzing past him in an arc. It bounced off the floor, rolling to a stop just a short distance from the water’s edge.

    “Knock it off!” Whitaker called out again. ‘You almost – “

    Patterson ignored him one more, crunching a stalagmite this time. A chunk of it sailed through the air, passing in an arc over the top of Whitaker’s head. Whitaker had to jump off the floor to catch it from mid-air.

    Goddamnit, he’s not listening to me! Whitaker thought. I’ve got to stop all this debris!

    As soon as he finished that thought, he had to dive to his right to catch a hurtling chunk of rock like a goalkeeper. No sooner than he clambered back to his feet, another piece of rock came hurtling directly at him – he was forced to sling out a quick sucker punch to intercept it, shattering the stone into pieces in midair.

    “Pat!” Whitaker called, panting. “Cut it out before something bad hap-“

    As he spoke, a small stone pinged out of the dust cloud where Patterson was busily punching away, and zinged off of Whitaker’s forehead. As he staggered backwards, he had just about enough time to groggily congratulate himself on blocking the stone with his face before he keeled over backwards and blacked out.

---

    He awoke in a dark, damp, cloying space. His eyes were closed, and it felt like he was suspended in a thick, almost slimy fluid. He felt a desperate urge to escape from the claustrophobic prison he now felt imprisoned with, flailing out in any direction possible – he just felt a need to escape, somewhere, anywhere. In the end, he simply ended up pushing straight up against the roof of the tiny cell he found himself in with his short and stubby arms. Hope surged in his small chest as he felt the roof begin to crack and splinter – he was almost out! A big segment of the chamber cracked away, and he wriggled upwards, the light stinging his eyes as he gulped down huge gasps of fresh air. The piece of the chamber still clung to the top of his head. He reached up to try and knock it off, but his arms felt uncoordinated and weak. However, a shadow was cast over him as a huge cyan-coloured arm reached down, peeling the eggshell away. A second later, two more hands reached down, grasping Whitaker roughly under the armpits. He was scared as they hoisted him up into the air, bringing him face to face with an implacable looking face, crowned by three tough-looking crests and underlined by a hard scowl sculpted out of a pair of thick, pale yellow lips. The face’s eyes had red irises and seemed to stare deep into Whitaker’s very soul – and found whatever they saw lacking.

    Is this my mommy? Was all Whitaker could think for himself. Unwillingly, he let out a high-pitching squealing sound that was halfway between a meowing noise and a dog toy being squeezed. The Machamp recoiled a little, wrinkling his face as if Whitaker was some kind of pest that had just made a mess on his foot.

    “Croagunk.” The Machamp eventually spoke, his voice deep and harsh. “I didn’t ask for any Croagunks.”

    “Oh, I took a small liberty in bringing in this one.” Another voice announced. Whitaker turned his head to face it. It was a cultured, sly, almost effete-sounding voice, and it issued from a slender white humanoid Pokémon, his features mostly concealed from Whitaker’s point of view by the green and pale blue crest on top of his head. The Gallade reached forward with one of arms, poking Whitaker in the belly with one green finger, prompting the Croagunk to cry out in a squeaky-sounding voice again.

    “This one came from a particularly promising source.” He continued. “And at a bargain price, too.”

    “I don’t like Croagunks, or Toxicroaks for that matter.” The Machamp announced flatly. “They’re too shifty to be popular and they break too easily. This was a waste of good money.”

    “Oh, you never know.” The Gallade responded. “He might just surprise you.”

    “He’ll surprise me if he manages to do anything before one of the stronger ones cracks him in two.”   The Machamp replied. He tucked Whitaker under one arm, walking over to a small wooden crate. He opened the lid, grasped Whitaker roughly by the back of his neck, and dumped him unceremoniously inside.

    “If nothing else, he ought to bleed nicely for the crowd.” He said, before he slammed the lid down hard, leaving Whitaker in total darkness once more.

---

    Whitaker awoke with a start, spluttering as water was sprayed in his face. He opened his eyes to see a somewhat concerned-looking Cassidy standing over him, Marcus the Skrelp aimed at his face.

    “Looks like that washed the cobwebs away.” Marcus chuckled.

    “You were out cold, but it didn’t look like ya had a quiet sleep at all.” Cassidy said. “Are you alright?”

    “Yeah.” Whitaker groaned, sitting up. As far as he could tell, he was still exactly where he’d first fell. “Just a bad dream, that’s all.”

    “Your buddy over there came and got me.” Cassidy said, indicating a sheepish-looking Patterson standing a little way away. “But he was all quiet about how exactly y’got bonked on the brainbox. Care to explain?”

    Whitaker looked towards Patterson. He realised that he had a chance to pay Patterson back for the embarrassment that he’d suffered, and for putting both their positions at the guild in jeopardy, and by the guilty look on his face, Patterson knew it too. He held a clear picture of that guilty look in his head as he turned back to face Cassidy.

    “It was all my fault.” He said. “I was carrying a piece of excavated rock away and I managed to drop it on top of my head. Stupid, I know.”

    Patterson looked confused, clearly wondering why Whitaker was making up a story that made him look bad. Cassidy seemed wary of Whitaker’s story as well.

    “Are y’sure?” The Floatzel asked. “If that’s all it was, then why was knucklehead over there so hush-hush about it?”

    Whitaker gave a small smile, and a dismissive wave of his hand. “He was probably just trying to cover up for me so that I didn’t look like too much of a dumbass. I bet that he was quiet because he ain’t smart enough to come up with a convincing cover story.”

    “Huh. Alright then.” Cassidy replied, seemingly satisfied, looking away. Patterson gave an appreciative nod to Whitaker, complete with a small, apologetic expression. Whitaker returned a surreptitious but cheerful wink.

    “Well, as bad as he is at stories, he’s plenty good at breaking rocks.” Cassidy added. “Looks like you two did a fine job.”

    “Huh?” Whitaker asked, puzzled. “You mean...”

    “That we finally managed to find the entrance while you were out cold?” Cassidy responded. “You betcha. Wanna come see?”

Whitaker nodded. As he stood up, he looked over to where the stony obstacle had stood before – now it was completely smashed apart, providing clear passage. Cassidy smoothly stepped over the remaining rubble, producing a Chargestone to light the way. Whitaker followed suit. After a relatively short tunnel, the pair emerged into a large chamber, and what Whitaker saw made his jaw drop. The entrance was a colossal thing of brass that seemed to tower over the pair of them. The Chargestone’s light shimmered off the door, casting an orange glow across the stony walls.

    “Well, I’d be lying if I said that I enjoyed all the digging, but boy howdy, when it pays off, it pays off big.” Cassidy said, suddenly sounding cheerful. “You two actually managed to do some decent work, by the looks of it – and it looks like you managed to keep my water clean too.”

    “We did?” Whitaker asked, before scrabbling to correct himself as he drew a suspicious glance from the Floatzel. “I mean, uh, yeah. Yeah, we did.”

    “Well, now you can take it easy at least.” Cassidy told him. However, the smile dropped from his face suddenly. “Just not for too long, though. Donovan’s workin’ those ninja-folk over right now, or so I hear. When he gets them to blabber, I’m sure whatever they tell us is gonna lead us right through those doors – I can feel it in my gut. Are you guys gonna be ready to go through when that happens?”

    Patterson burst in, slinging an arm round Whitaker’s shoulders. “We’re ready for anything.” The Hitmonchan bragged. “Any time, any place. Just give the word when we need to go.”

    Whitaker smiled. Knowing that they’d managed to pull off a task for once without any screwups or disasters, despite Patterson’s efforts to the contrary, was making him feel very pleased with himself indeed.

    “Any time, any place.” He agreed.