Normally, the shrines in the hills of Oldale were respected locations of solemn reflection. The young of the town rarely visited, allowing the elderly to contemplate their past years and traditions in peace. Oldale had its fair share of trouble makers, but even they knew never to disturb the shrines. Legend has it that defacing these places of quiet worship was a grave sin, and result in a curse afflicting the guilty. Not willing to face the wrath of an unseen force, no one dares harm these sacred spiritual abodes.

Yet Henry had no connection to the spiritual, he was a man of science. And as a man of science he wished to get to the bottom of these supposedly protected ruins. Where was the legend's source? His theory was that a particularly powerful pokemon guarded the shrines, and he very much wanted to meet it.

Strained cries burrowed through Henry's concentration, drawing his attention to his captives. A band of old folk visiting the shrines stood helpless as Archemetes the druddigon forced them together. The beast's massive form overshadowed them all, his massive jaws watering as he dare one of them to move against him. One of the elderly spoke out, earning a glare from Archemetes. "What is the meaning of this! These a sacred grounds, violence is blasphemy!" Henry adjusted his mask, a blank face of polished wood with two eyeholes from which he leered at the uppity old timer. 

Henry snapped his fingers, and Archemetes gleefully backhanded the fool to the ground. The others came to the man's aid, echoing his desire to know what was happening. As they chattered, Henry brought out a bottle. It was filled with a clear liquid, and its top was stuffed with a rag. He pulled out a lighter, and used it to set the rag aflame. As he held the burning bottle aloft, he finally replied. "Forgive me for this intrusion, I am conducting an experiment. This won't take long."

With that, he threw the bottle at one of the shrines. The aged wood burst into a mighty inferno, much to the horror of the captive onlookers. Henry watched the fire patiently, waiting for something to happen.

Ethel Irving