[@Sanguine Rose]

The shopkeeper just looked at with complete bewilderment. [color=#4fbd00]"Wait, you're really gonna do that?"[/color] He asked just to double check if he heard her correctly. While she could see his reaction as an overreaction, she was a stranger. Faye had absolutely no reason to help him or the store at all, unless she saw a way of getting something out of it, but the shopkeeper did not think that far ahead. 

He recomposed himself, realizing that he was being far too dramatic and did not want to scare away potential aid. With a faux nonchalance he said, [color=#4fbd00] "Uh, yeah it's 26 Svenson Road. My grandfather is really short, kinda balding, has a big hooked nose, and has a big bushy beard that is very much graying. It's sorta salt and pepper, but mainly salt if you catch my drift."[/color]

Well, Faye is free to go straight to the address if she wished, but she was also free to go to the Pokemart to buy Pokeballs, which for the love of god please do or explore the town while she still could because as memory should serve her well, any gym challenge would be refused if she could not provide a team of six Pokemon.

[hr]
[@samreaper]

Facing its challenge dead on, Tristan sent out Ace the Cowardly Torchic to fight the Gossifleur. Thankfully, the fearful fire chick was running on adrenaline and followed its trainer's command. Rather than a fierce growl, Ace let out a panicked noise that could be loosely interpreted as a growl though it still caught the the grass diva off guard and lowered its attack. 

To counter, the Gossifleer used Leafage. Leaves were pelted towards Ace who used Ember, sending a series of fire balls that collided with the leaves and quickly turned them into cinders. A fireball slipped through and collided with the Gossifleur, causing it to reel back in pain and left a nasty burn. 

[center][i][color=6ecff6]Gossifelur was burned![/color][/i][/center]

The grass-type did not fold. It grit its teeth and with a glare of determination, it started to sing though it was different from how it sang before. Ace stood there swaying in place as it tried to keep its balance, its eyes were forcibly open before the Torchic fell onto its side.

[center][i][color=6ecff6]Ace fell asleep![/color][/i][/center]

What does Trisan do?

[hr]
[@Zarkun]

Weep, for her gains are far more bountiful. 

Anyway, after his explanation she continued to glare at him in silence. It was just about impossible to get a read on her;  she was either going to kill him and turn give his bones to the Houndstone to gnaw on or was going to slam the door in his face. Jason would justifiably feel a sense of dread sit in his gut; he was alone in the forest that had already tried to claim his head and now he was standing face to face with a literal giant with a deathly gaze that could bury him with her cold, oversized gorilla hands. 

Helga, however, did not suplex him into his own grave, rip him in half with her bare hands, or whatever Jason thought. She grunted and motioned her head towards the interior of the house to tell him to come inside. The hulking beast of a woman turned around with the wagging Houndstone following in tow. Not one to refuse his elders, Jason would follow her into her abode lest she smite him.

Save for how tall the ceiling was and generally how spacious the cabin interior was, it was still quite homey. The furniture was all made from wood that was unrefinedly carved with jagged, bumpy edges though there was a sort of charm to it. The chairs and sofa had sloppily sewn cushions and pillows with various patches that looked like they came from various other pieces of fabric. The center of the room had a wood stove with fire roaring and not too far away was a wall covered by with various logs. 

Helga turned to look at him and sternly said, [color=C7B56F]"Sit."[/color] She motioned for him to sit at what he assumed to be was a dining room table surrounded by crudely made chairs.

She was not asking, she was telling him. Jason was free to stand if he really wanted to, but did he really want to refuse Helga? 

Whatever Jason did though, she placed down a mug filled with bubbling thick black liquid. It smelled like coffee, but it had the appearance of crude oil. If he took a sip, he would have to force his neck muscles to push down the coffee down his throat just to keep it from lodging itself in there.

She sat down on on her chairs, the wood creaked and moaned from the weight. [color=C7B56F]"Alright, explain. What is a kid like you doing looking for that shrine?"[/color]