Collected from Arsaga:

Long moments later, Keith has led them to Kzye's gym, through a thin, low, rocky corridor leading into the mountain side. The fading afternoon light outside doesn't follow them to any notable depth - but the glow from within the cavern ahead lights their path.

A triangular tunnel angles off to the right at the end of the initial entrance, its floor split at half width, a cool metal flooring on the side they enter on, and a shimmering, mottled glow of lava covering the remaining area. The wall to their right is slanted, the one on the lava's side is perfectly vertical - and by some kinda of miracle the temperature of the place seems almost bearable. Almost.

The path opens into a wide cavern that at first seems almost roofless given its spectacular height - and indeed, at its very top the ceiling is punctured by five triangular holes showing shreds of the sky, a piercing blue against the dark, brooding red of the interior of the cavern. The cavern walls are dotted with ledges reaching around the entirety of the near-circular cave.

The room - this arena - is split into three segments. The ground under their feet is solid where they stand, reaching a third of the cavern's diametre into the room, before abruptly cutting off with a straight line, into a nauseatingly deep chasm making up most of the floor by area. On the far side, the other third is once more made of solid ground, a strange statue erected in its centre, towering much larger than any human would ever grow to, its shape abstract and undefinable, like a Moore sculpture.

Crossing the chasm is an aluminium bridge of criss-cross wire, half-nuzzling the right side of the chamber. The lava stream that had accompanied them through the tunnel now behind them rolls as a lavafall down into the chasm, the flow bridged to allow them to access the left half of the floor on this side.

Keith, hands rested on his hips, grins into the arena, brimming with unprompted pride - chances are he's either not heard Nikki's compliment or doesn't consider her opinion important enough to weigh into his own. Beneath each of the ledges scattered on the walls is a warm, uniformly glowing electric light, cylindrical in shape. Keither seems to be inspecting all of them for a moment, before, satisfied that they are all functional, turning to face his guests. “My friends,” he addresses them. “Welcome to the Pyre gym. I suspect you want to know the rules you'll be subject to here?” His eyes glitter.

Collected from N'Sehla:

Dakarai nods almost absent-mindedly, not quite realising that it can't be seen as he follows, staring with a slight incredulous glance at the walls of the corridor cut into the stone. They were heading into the mountain? What a bizarre place to carve a gym into - though Pyu Ivvi wasn't that much better, in comparison.

“What're the rules?” Dakarai inquires, concentration latched more on the geological composition of the tunnel than on the conversation. - “Withdraw is a K.O., freeform, four vs. four in two on two battles, though I'm flexible about that last aspect,” Keith remarks, seeming completely delighted to have a visitor.

At least, those were his thoughts before seeing the interior of the actual gym. Softly, barely audible, layered across a sucked in breath, Dakarai hisses: “Shit,” staring with a slightly frantic, but overall admirably composed wide-eyed look across the canyon. A canyon that would be entirely unforgiving if you fell into it - shifting at its bottom was a red, orange, gold and black medely proverbially spelling out 'heat' in capital letters.

Think, Dakarai, think. His gaze inspects the walls, seeing the shuffled platforms. His lips pull taut as he stares at them, quietly reassessing the situation. Fafnir was useless here, at best, suicidal at worst. Any pokémon he sent out was gloriously open to being sent flying down that canyon. Withdrawing his pokémon would have the same effect as a K.O. - he could see why now. If his pokémon fell…

Long minutes later, the thin aluminium bridge spanning the canyon has been pulled back, leaving no extra leeway for any pokémon losing its grip. And then, after a moment of fiddling with a sock, Keith straightens, fishes for two pokéballs from his pockets - checks whether they are the correct ones with an analytic glance, subtleties of which are lost all the way across the canyon - and finally gestures to start.

And the THUNDER WAVE indeed passes through Soot without even slowing its motions, as if it were oblivious to the paralytic effect; but against his hopes, Fenrir is struck by it, fortunately striking the Houndoom down on a platform rather than between them; and the Flareon follows suit, briefly collapsing atop a platform a space removed. - …the more tragic effect? Dakarai. A hellish sensation crackles across his skin, a feeling like static electricity, though ten times fiercer, causing his muscles to lock, falling to the ground. Keith, used to handling electric pokémon, does not quite suffer such issues, evidently well insulated. Shivering slightly, collapsed on the ground, past gritted teeth, Dakarai thinks: 'Mental note to self: Buy rubber clothes for battles involving electric pokémon.'