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Pyu Ivvi is a sea-side settlement of fishermen. Superstitions rule supreme here and strangers are rarely welcome. With about four hundred people living here permanently, it comes with a sense of 'everyone knows everyone else' - perhaps with the exception of the gymleader, who seems refreshingly removed from the suspicious grouchiness inherit to everyone else.
Descriptions from Sessions
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.
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.
“Pyu Ivvi is a small town. You mentioned that the route 'tween them and Nightclaw's been compromised by floods. Did you stick around to find out anything about their local mythology?” A chuckle later, half an explanation: “They probably thought you were trolls.”
“Their folklore's mostly centered around fishing, and the sea. I suppose you can guess why - it's just what they do there,” Catherine chuckles, explaining it, crossing her arms casually. “So, with that comes a deep respect from water. And they're a small town, so notions prosper quickly - Taisto mentioned something about them believing rivers are guarded by trolls. I bet they think floods are caused by them, too. And if the only way you could have arrived in their town was through a flooded area, they probably think you're either under the protection of the trolls, or are some yourselves - since trolls don't like people.”