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Collected from Arsaga:

After Njoty and Nightclaw, this little fishery village radiates much of a rural feel, set atop a low, grassy cliff, nestled into the mostly flat landscape, with a strange natural indent in the cliff face leading down to the port of Pyu Ivvi, piers made entirely of wooden planks and pillars, darkened by the waves. Not surprising if one considers the effect of the floods, their arrival was met with a strange suspicion… many curious, mistrusting glances cast their way, but little actual commotion.

If one didn't know better - and, honestly, our heroes don't - one could think that the arrival of the oddball group was being considered a bad omen, or that they were presumed to be the embodiment of evil spirits, taking human form to deceive the townsfolk. At least that's the air here, and it's not pleasant, eliciting forced smiles denoting 'We come in peace. Honestly. I mean, really,' in Devi's and Neike's faces.

Then, disaster. The PokéCenter, nestled into the south end of the city, seems to be closed. With clouds smothering the light of the day, and no light inside it, it looks almost abandonned, a disheartening, almost frightening sight, though it's presumably just not active right now. As it is, it's a ridiculously small building, though given some others here, one might be grateful that it's not a small wooden shack, at least.

The diffuse light cast through the clouds illuminates the area mostly uniformly, giving it an even more surreal feel than it normally would have, bathed in soft light, greying the planes of grass stretching inland from Pyu Ivvi, the perceivedly white colour of the cliff's stones a thin seam at the edge of the same… at least as long as they're not heading down the cobblestone path to the port itself, the landscape dragging itself down into a smoothed canyon, the earthy ground bleaching, becoming scattered with shells near the first wooden pathways.

And as they reach the port, passing past the crassly vertical - if not very high - cliff face and onto the wooden structures built across the waves, they can see the gym, though it takes the craning of their heads to do so. It's set into a cavern elevated above the waves, off to their collective right when coming down that path. Or, well, it seems to be - the only real indicator are heavy rope bridges ranking up towards it, and the flag that's being held out of the cavern by a long pole vanishing into its depths, rippling in the wind, depicting a purely mythical dragon, with a stylised pokéball above and below it, the blotches of red making the purpose obvious. The wind whips at the flag, creasing its folds, causing its silken surface to appear almost iridescent, or like water itself, mercilessly at whim of the elements, its bottom end fringed from all the beatings given to it by the gusts.

As they cross the last half of the way across the bridges, the inside of the cavern becomes visible. It's not lit by anything but daylight, and the shadows cast by the cliff itself make it hard to discern much inside it, but there's a small platform of stone immediately by the bridge, though the rest of the cavern seems entirely ragged in its entire depth… which, all things considered, isn't much. One could probably climb down the platform and cross over to where a dome-like, ivory-coloured building sits nestled, but not only does that seem tedious, but potentially dangerous. The cavern is alive with the sounds of Zubat - clung to the shadowed part of the cavern walls, fluttering to and fro, and generally seeming to have claimed the cavern for themselves. Despite this, calmly, a Spearow is perched on a pole set into a manmade hole on the smooth surface of the stone platform, peering at Marcus, head tilted curiously. One of its talons is locked around a short scroll of sorts.

The Spearow tilts its head the other way as Marcus begins his question, before cawing almost aggressively, its feathers spiking outward, and spreading its wings what at first appears to be threateningly. Then it visible inhales, before pushing itself away from the post - leaving the scroll to roll about on the top of it ever so slightly - and veers around, flapping its small wings and carrying its light body across the cavern in direction of the ivory building. Time to read the scroll, then?

On the scroll, a beautifully elaborate handwriting greets them. “Welcome, travellers, to the Pyu Ivvi pokémon gym. While you're reading this, Hayato is notifying me of your arrival. I ask that you please be patient for the while.” Oh, how curious, so that's what the Spearow was doing? “If you have come to battle, gym rules are two on two with no swap-outs allowed. Loss by K.O., death, or the touch of a Zubat, which you have no doubt noticed inhabit this cavern to hundreds.”

A new paragraph. “When Hayato returns, whatever your concerns, please write them onto the back of this note and give it to him. If you wish a dialogue, I will send a pokémon to FLY you across to my domain. For all other concerns, I recommend staying at the platform.” The signature takes up generous amounts of space. 'Tove Zipporah'.

It seems like a small miracle that the swarm did not take off entirely and rained past the visitors and out into broad daylight, but the inward thanks goes unstated. Why Tove chose to live there, subjecting the badgequesters to the torment of many wings, is hard to say. Perhaps that was its purpose - torment. Either way, the group's hurried down from the cavern and across the bridge, then back to the solid ground of the port and cobblestone path back up to the meadows.

The light is still comparatively dim, though broad rays of light are slanting across the landscape now that the sun is slowly beginning a path towards setting, the late afternoon taking its toll, so to speak. The light is no less alien, though, infusing the whole area with a surreal, dream-like feel. Mister fishes is gone from near the PokéCenter, at least, and the nearest person is a woman carrying two buckets of freshwater along a barely visible path winding along the edges of Pyu Ivvi. This place has ghost town qualities.

Meanwhile, as Nikki enters it, the PokéCenter remains cast in darkness, until the outlines of Rhaptor lean across the just as vague outlines of the counter and neon lights slowly flicker to life. Light fills the area. It's a very small pokémon center… possibly one of the oldest in regards to its gear, too, judging by the looks of things…

Rhaptor glances up at Marcus, though he keeps it brief - the glint in his eyes is still obvious, regardless, even as he casts his gaze back down, having sidled to behind the counter and run his hands across the surface, inspecting it, clearing his throat slightly, before saying: “All right, this'll take a bit of diagnosis, unfortunately, since this place is about as advanced as in prehistoric times…” He trails off, then shakes his head slightly, glancing up at Nikki. “Your pokémon, please?” He pats the surface of the table with his left hand, even as his right is busy with buttons and switches on some archaic healing device. His nose wrinkles a bit.

He takes the pokéballs and sends them, each, through the device, keeping an attentive eye on the read-outs. Silent. […] “Well, fortunately, no poisoning, no freezing, nothing of that sort,” he says, attempting both to be professional in his PokéCenter duties and brutally veer the conversation away from that. […] Setting his gaze back down on the pokéballs, he sets the device to simple healing - or so's to be assumed - and slowly but surely goes through the pokéballs, restoring the pokémon inside them.

Rhaptor had led the group of three south, towards a meadow leading out to a short lagoon, the cliff flattened out at this point, but the hills around the area shielding it astoundingly efficiently from the wind. The dale's flattened at the edges, and an old, weathered sign pointed out that the area was intended for camping.

If Nikki were to move into the building [Tove lived in, set into the back of the pokégym's arena], she'd notice it was indeed quite small, and, in fact, consisted only of a single room, however spaceous, with only the bathroom encapsulated in a compartment off to the right, breaking the spherical nature of the inside with that straight wall.