Prolouge to a pokemon story.

[Echo~the~Hedgehog]

The Cinnibar islands were always the home of a wide variety of fire type pokemon. They crossed the little islands at low tide and when the volcano's seemingly constant lava flows opened up new pathways. The largest two islands were on the ends. The western island had the city of Cinnibar. The most Eastern island housed the Cinnibar gym.

No one talked much about Team Rock on Cinnibar island. This was mostly due to the fact that they had bribed the newspapers out of reporting their crimes to the public. Most people, blissfully ignorant of this fact, considered Team Rock a reckless organization that made money by trade with the mainland. Perhaps a little bit of that trade broke a rule here or there. As long as there was no rape, murder or pokemon poaching then no one really cared what Team Rock may have did behind closed doors.

What they liked about Team Rock were the statistics it produced. Kids who had dropped out of school or flunked out of the pokemon league were always welcome. There was no unemployment while there was Team Rock. If some poor homeless teenager could walk, talk and follow orders they had use for him. Most of them were sent to the People Department which organized charity drives and environmental protection projects. It was excellent for the image to have a 19 year old boy saying how he was, for the first time in his life, eating 3 meals a day and sleeping in a bed: all thanks to Team Rock. The journalists and radio interviews with these kids were almost all that was needed to maintain a positive image for the people. Whatever else was needed, could be bought from city officials.

It should be said before any more praise be given that Team Rock was a widow-maker, and in some cases turned kids into orphans. The worst part was that those orphans joined the cause because they had no other prospects. Four of these cases in particular are important, as they were the last four entrants into the organization. The first was a tall, thin lad of 15. He had short black hair and shabby black clothes. He always wore a hat to make himself appear more menacing, although he failed at this far worse than he knew. The second was shorter than him. He had fiery red hair and a much more refined look. A passerby might even mistake him for a boy who'd just come out of school. His clothes were ironed and clean, in a sharp contrast to the first boy. The third entrant was in his pocket, and if he pulled him out you would be astonished to see a small dratini, no more than a year old. The fourth entrant wasn't with them from the beginning, and his story will be gotten to soon.

The first boy was an orphan. He never knew his parents. But Team Rock filled most of the emotional void. The rest could be weeded out of silly schoolgirls. He had money in his pocket thanks to the ever present odd jobs Team Rock needed doing. He fetched water, carried wood and made lunch for the grunts who tipped him modestly. Or every now and again he’d run some sort of deal in an alleyway or transport loaded, unregistered apriballs and receive a generous tip.

The second boy had parents who were divorced. His father lived in Mahogany town and worked in Dratini’s Den. On his most recent Christmas he received a stud waiver from his place of work. That allowed him to breed a dratini and sent it to his son on his most recent birthday. It was an excellent breed. It had perfect Ivs, an adamant nature and Extremespeed right out of the shell. The boy’s mother had fallen ill recently and was still recovering. He was staying with his grandparents on the island.

To see a Charmander roaming the island was not common. Charmander did not cross the little channels and isthmuses to get to the western islands. A few of them were tall and wide enough to get a little way from the volcano. However, out of fear of having their tail flame go out, they never journeyed to far west.

These facts made the appearance of a Charmander in Cinnibar city a very uncommon thing. It was one of those little mysteries people never throw their whole hearts into. More to a point people simply avoided thinking too much about him like they avoided thinking too much about Team Rock. No one wanted to know how he got there. No one wanted to know why he was always so sad.

Water pokemon lived in little or no fear of being captured by pokemon trainers. Firstly trainers came to Cinnibar island for fire pokemon; not water pokemon. Secondly any water pokemon on Cinnibar island were common: a fact which was far too well known. Somehow it even became known to the pokemon. Right under the noses of the public a few collonies of Staryu, Lapras, and even Squirtle came to populate the northern border.

Squirtle were a fun-loving species. They often traveled around in search of new terrain and new adventures. This particular band of squirtle however enjoyed the fast pace trade route. They enjoyed chasing the boats and getting fed by tourists. Most of all they enjoyed how they just slipped out of the reach of trainers who noticed their nest. After a while though anything can become monotonous. And this particular Squirtle needed not only a rest, but a change.

Grass pokemon took pride in the fact that they generally avoided the entire subject of Cinnibar. Not only was it surrounded by salt water which was unpleasant, but it was populated by fire pokemon. It simply was not a place they wanted to go to. It was not even a place trainers wanted to take them. They had no use on that island. Besides, the heat would make their leaves wilt anyway.

Bulbasaur were a peaceful species that managed to avoid the public by their strange and mystical migrations. They were highly in tune with nature. Some would say they were even more in tune than any other grass pokemon. Every tribe of Bulbasaur had its own migration routes. This tribe lived mostly in southern Kanto and in the summertime lived just south of Pallet town. The water routes were quiet and the food was plentiful. Very few trainers came out of Pallet town back then. And those that did rarely went to Cinnibar. And if one did go to Cinnibar he/she certainly did not catch a bulbasaur to help!

Pokeballs were extremely non-existant at the time. Trainers would pick wild apricorns and have them refined at an Aprismith. Aprismiths appraised the apricorns with a number; one, two, or three. The lower the number the rarer the condition of the apricorn. Round, large apricorns were the best at capturing pokemon. Small, rough ones were the worst. Most people didn’t know why, they just accepted it as a fact. The numbers were given colors; red blue and yellow in ascending order. A sudden evolution was on the horizon, but for now the “apriballs” would do.

The pokemon league was at best a side-show, and at worst a distraction for pokemon trainers. The pokemon league in its infancy was not a thing that most people took part it. Relatively few cities had a gym, let alone the two that Saffron City boasted. As of yet there were only 5 gyms in the Kanto region. The gyms developed a habit of being more for beginner trainers to gain experience before going out on their own. These stepping stone gyms often gained and lost gym leaders at an amazing pace. It was largely the introduction of powerful gym leaders that saved the league from premature collapse. But it was not the only international institution for battling yet made.

The Elite Four does not have an offical date of birth, as determining if it should be the day it formed, the days the individuals became masters, or the day it was defeated and gained a Champion thereof was to difficult a question for anyone to bother answering. Four regions are located right next to each other; Kanto, Jhoto, Hoenn and Sinnoh. Each of the regions came to the conclusion that there was a single trainer who could be considered the best. All the trainers in each region feared and admired that Master. One day some great idiot became furious upon challenging, and losing, to all four of them one after the other. So he decided to inform each of them one by one, of the other three. Egos collided like meteorites. Instantly they all traveled to the Indigo Plateu: the one place that was perennially synonymous with the greatest trainers and masters in the world. And once they'd all beaten each other's brains out on and off the battle field, they sat down to have a drink. It then occured to them that if they joined forces, they would form an almost impassable obstacle. Individually a trainer might defeat one of them. But if they were lumped together the failure of one to defeat a challenger did not matter. Only the failure of all four of them meant any dishonor in the yes of the masses. Thus four pokemon masters called themselves 'The Elite' and drank to it.

I mentioned a sad charmander. Indeed, it became the fourth entrant. Wether it was an infant or several years old no one knows for sure. Pain, however, appeals to one’s better nature. The pain in Charmandar appealed to the boy’s better nature. He left school one day and found it leaning against a wall devouring a chain of sausages. It looked up at him and he looked down at it and it flinched, anticipating a furious action against itself. But the boy smiled down at the pokemon. He bent down and picked it up in his arms.

“Don‘t worry dear one…I have food. I‘ll keep you safe.” In that moment a friendship formed between the boy and the pokemon that could have withstood the trials of fate. The sheer will to survive in itself formed an almost tangible force that seemed to carry them on great wings. What happened next was predetermined. And the will to survive and prosper would determine a final result that no creature could have foreseen.