Field in a Park, Goldenrod City
Scene-Setting Music: "Theme of Black Knight" (Tactics Ogre Reborn)
As one trainer sought to begin her journey in a strange land, another was knee deep in conflict. Thick blankets of freezing snow washed over a lone knightly Gallade, who—living up to his name—refused to succumb to the bone-slicing chill. The source of it came from his ivory-wrapped enemy, the Froslass's yellow and red eyes glinted cruelly as she intensified the arctic blast. The merciless winds of winter enveloped them both, as the scene itself did the appreciable audience. The younger onlookers were almost spellbound at the artistry before them; though the day was rather warm and the hint of salt in the area clear proof they were seaside, they could easily feel the terrible chill, see the endless ice, arctic tundra and rapidly rising snow that threatened to engulf the Fighting/Psychic type. The illusion took incredible effect, and even those who had been skeptical at first couldn't easily turn away from the sight before them.
Just as the bespectacled storyteller wanted. The cheers of an audience and the laughter of children may feed his heart and soul, but actual food was needed to keep him from falling out. Though from the hat being passed around courtesy of his Geodude, a hat growing ever more bulbous from the audience donations, that wouldn't be occurring anytime soon. Good thing too; the whole 'starving artist' shtick was cliche, even for him, and Coordinators did pride themselves on some level of style.
On silent cue, a thick cloud of icy Mist rolled from the Froslass's phantasmal arms, engulfing her body and obscuring her from the vision of all around her. Violet energy surrounding her—thanks to a well-used Ominous Wind—turned the fog into a cyclone, the winds howling and blowing with a truly inspired ferocity. Floating above her opponent, the twister then moved to envelop the 'knight', hoping to freeze him to his bones. As befitting such a warrior, the Gallade summoned psychic force through a sword arm to neatly cut through the biting cloud so it went on either side of him. The tree to his right was not so lucky, the imposing oak turning a stark blue from treetop to trunk before crackling into nothingness. Such a powerful illusion was it that a formerly disinterested Super Nerd stumbled backwards, momentarily convinced he'd just evaded death by an inch.
"So, brave warrior," 'spoke' the Froslass from within her icy cyclone, the malice in her voice more piercing than any winter cold. Anyone who turned to the far right would have seen the green-haired human's lips moving, obviously providing the voice for this scene. "You refuse power, riches, and even immortal glory. What do you strive for? For what reason do you challenge me?"
His arms folded in front of him to protect against the devastating wave, icicles forming on the blade arms as he was slowly pushed back. Even as he struggled, the Gallade's response rang out like a bell, the 'voice' strained but sternly resolute. "I fight for those unable to protect themselves, witch! Honor, respect, valor...concepts you would never understand even if you lived for another thousand years."
Though a few older and more cynical audience members rolled their eyes at the mini-speech, the Froslass's response was much less restrained.
"A touching speech, but disappointing you chose those as your last words." The Ice/Ghost-type's 'voice' dripping with contempt as the twister swirled around him, the Froslass screeched amidst the howling winds. "May they keep you company in your grave!"
A shining light formed within to blind the Gallade to her next move, the Flash bursting to keep even the audience off balance. The air rang out with what sounded like hundreds of swords being drawn from sheathes, the Ice/Ghost-type's smile heralding a dangerous turn. The younger audience members couldn't help but gasp as dozens of icicles formed from her Ice Shard technique floated around the steely warrior's body, a wicked taunt. Sword arms swung out to protect himself as the Gallade saw the killing glow in her eyes. Each crystalline spear looked keener than a razor, each pointing at the blade Pokémon with a deadly intent; just two or three would be enough to inflict a fatal wound.
"Watch out!" one young girl shouted in warning, her Ponyta shuddering from the cool and what was to come.
An older woman nodded in admiration as, beside the little girl sat her older Biker brother, looking forward to see just how—or at this point, if—the Gallade would survive this attack. "The kid's not too shabby." Not too bad for the price of a few bucks.
The boy couldn't help but smirk at the command they had. Almost every eye in that crowd was watching them, drawn into the tale of life and death with but a few words and the skillful use of technique. This was the power of a Coordinator...no, of a Bard, one he would never want to lose.