Welcome to Gaia! ::

"...hrm?" The homeless man sits up, grumbling as he rubs his eyes to clear the sleep from them, his captains coat flapping slightly around his bare chest as he tosses aside the newspaper from on top of himself. Scooping up a battered captains cap from the ground, he places it jauntily on an angle on his head as he sees Sub move off towards the purported site of the Dragon shrine. "Oy there, belay that matey!" Drake shouts, having missed most of the action. "It be a dangerous breeding season for Dratini don'cha know. I'm here to stop ye tourists from gettin' hurt!"

"Yar well..." Drake scratches his beard for a second before popping the cork on a gourd of some kind of liquor, taking a generous swig of the pungent-smelling stuff. "I been having a long night last night. I didn't think anyone would be actually bein'... unwise enough to come down in the cave most of the locals know better." He fixes Sub with a sideways glance, before taking a second fortifying swig. "Say... yer Darts' friend, right? Soob? Whatcha' down here for anyways?"

"Clair." Drake harrumphs, looking back towards the entrance of the Dragon's Den. "Well me boy, I can't exactly color meself surprised what with the way she's been actin' lately. It seemin' to be like the seas be running red all parts of the month if'n ye catch me meaning. What's she having ye do down here, anyhow? Besides runnin' intentionally inteh the middle of a pasty stuffing competition."

"Well. About that..." Drake opines, leading the Snagem leader down the pass and around the corner to where the Dragon Clan's shrine should be standing. All that remains is a sign stating plainly: Moved for repair and cleaning as historic monument - to be returned at a later date. The entire building, boards, tacks, and whatever else is gone. All that remains is a square where the foundation used to be.

"Well then..." Drake says, taking a swig from a gourd of unidentifiable beverage, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his captains jacket before letting out a sigh of pleasure at the taste. "What say we... outfox that little lassie...? She's had a good bit of time to try and rectify her mistakes but she never learns." He takes a scroll out from the inside of his captain's jacket, and hands it over to Sub. "This is one of the wall scrolls from the inside of the Dragon's Den. I was put in charge of them while the renovations were going on, and I guarantee Clair doesn't know they are here. Bring this back to her and there's no way she can deny you that you made it to the Dragon's Den.... just don't be losin' it... bit of an antique I think." He presses the worn bamboo slat scroll into the Snagem leader's hand before taking another swig, ambling over to sit near the blank foundation. "Have youngling Darts bring me it back when'er you get around to it." The pirate captain was clearly unconcerned with the priceless relic he was handing over, seating himself on a bench and pushing his cap back over his eyes. "And if'n ya see a warm newspaper on the way out..."

Clair emerged from one of the back rooms of her gym, a haughty look in her eyes as she appraised the Snagem leader. "You're back, huh? By now surely you've seen the futility of your..." She stops abruptly mid-sentence and the color drains from her face as she sees the bamboo tube waving about in Sub's hand. "What... where did you get that?"

"You forget yourself, challenger." Clair huffs, turning her nose towards the ceiling as she folds her arms across her chest defiantly. "I have been running from nothing. I am the essence of the Dragon Clan itself and we run from no one. I will grant you your pathetic challenge. And once we're done here, I want you to take a message back to Darts and the rest of your pathetic team when you run back with your tail tucked between your legs." She snaps a finger at the attendant behind the desk. "Prepare the battlefield."

The mousey-haired woman who had greeted Sub on his first visit jumps to her feet and scurries off at her master's behest, quick to avoid the gym leader's disapproval.

Clair turns back to Sub, a deadly serious look in her blue eyes as she stares him down. "The message is: if you come at the queen, you best not miss. And you," There's a deep rumble from within the bowels of the gym, coming from behind the mahogany door to Clair's right. "Are about to miss spectacularly."

Ignoring Sub's pointed comments she throws the doors wide to the interior of the gym, another blaze of heat much more than mere inconvenience washing over them as she reveals their battlefield. The source of the rumbling was revealed to be massive obsidian chains hauling a massive imitation of the Rising Badge from the depths of a pool of pure lava that seemed to take up most of the cavernous room behind the double doors.

Rising to meet them, the faux dragon's head was carven from stone as black as night and as the two looked on, lava bubbled and coursed from the two eye sockets, falling back into the pool with muted splashes all the while giving the stately battlefield a menacing glare.

It clangs into place with a massive crash as supports emerge from the walls to hold the weight of the colossal structure, nestling evenly in each one as it balances perfectly to sit, smoking. What from above so clearly made up the face of the dragon now looked like a hostile wasteland of a fighting arena. The blackened, sharpened stones of the ground rising up wickedly into the air on all sides On the side closest to the pair, there was a clearly etched white box, painted neatly in four even lines. Keen eyed individuals would have been able to make out another box on the opposite side painted in equal dimensions. Two trainer's boxes for this, the battle for the final badge - a rocky platform suspended above a pool of molten lava and Sub's aspirations to the Pokemon League with it.

"Well?" Clair asks, quirking one eyebrow cockily at the Snagem leader, both of them observing their home for the next few hours.