[Arc] Dreams of Kings and Castles: Part I - He Who Fights Monsters

In this world, can the destiny of mankind be shaped by the dreams of its people? Or are they little more than marionettes dancing upon the strings of fate? No matter their significance, at least it can be said that the ambitions of man make for spectacular entertainment. The downfall of the mighty, the rising of the meek, the inversion of these roles, and the repetition of the cycle; like waves crashing down upon themselves, swallowing one another in their wakes.

That morning the sea surrounding Loguetown was uncharacteristically turbulent, for miles on end the waters were whorled by swift and merciless winds, and above the turmoil thunder grumbled from inky-black storm clouds. Little of the rising sun’s light could pierce the tempest’s veil, only faint columns of diluted gold filtered down to the seas below.

From a distance the puny vessel’s voyage was quite a sight to behold, whipped by the waves into the air, and plummeting back into their grasp like a blind surfer careening towards his inevitable doom; it was a wonder that the tattered fishing-boat stayed afloat for as long as it did. As his ship was violently hurled skywards, the oni, the ex-cons, and their unknown stowaway slept on peacefully, oblivious to what would be the end of the line for their overburdened little ship.

Like a stone into water, the boat fell headfirst and sunk beneath the waves with the inertia of a crashing cannonball. In an instant those aboard were submerged and sent drifting into the depths of the abyss, most of the vessel was broken apart on impact; what little remained of the old ship served only as a coffin to contain its crew for their trip down to Davy Jones’ Locker.

All that remained of the mast was a length of red thread, snagged on the wreckage of the hull; a last vestigial strand of the Old Sutured Sail’s will to move forwards.

Even a fall like this was insufficient to wake Doji from his dream.

In the abyssal pits of sightless imagination, dreams drift and thrash like primitive koi; the larger the ambition, the larger the fish, able to snap and swallow the dreams of their lessers as though they were nothing. Oblivious to the true scale of its opposition, a large blood-red koi swam recklessly forwards snapping up any smaller fish it saw. It was not long before this plan of attack saw the fish staring down a monster, an elderly white leviathan of a koi, well versed in the ways of the pond and having devoured countless such challengers; such happenstances meant nothing in nature or in matters of ambition, these are matters in which the strong must devour the weak.

Even in his dreams the oni fought, clinging to his swords like a child clinging to its favorite toys; he was incomplete without these instruments, for a young student of the art of war these were the only tools by which he could exact his mind’s desires. In his sleep Doji often imagined what it would mean to restore his clan’s name, to reclaim power in the way that all lords had once attained it: sheer, overwhelming, catastrophic bloodshed. Though the fruits of his ambition always seemed worthy in his blind eyes, the cost of bloodshed had seemed to grow greater, and greater, as if to challenge any semblance of this path's justification.

His already violent dreams had grown more severe since the monster was given the Muramasa blade, what were once purposeful visions of conquest and renown had devolved into premonitions of war, massacre, and apocalypse; wherever the oni strode in this dreamscape, it was not long before it was reduced to mounds or mountains of ash and corpses. A sword was a tool by which to etch one’s will upon the world, but this weapon had a will of its own; if Doji was to maintain even the faintest shred of his humanity, it would be an uphill battle from the darkest pits of hell.

Infested by an unrelenting hunger for blood and anguish, the Muramasa was not content to find it’s final resting place at the ocean’s bottom. Loosing itself from its Saya, the blade drifted along the frame of the sinking oni; always ready to draw blood, it etched itself into the red-haired monster’s pallid skin releasing a flowing red ribbon of sanguine fluid that trailed upwards into the ocean waters.

Though Doji's crewmates attempted to cling onto him, they were all swept away by the cruel currents of the ocean.

The sting of saltwater filling his cut quickly roused the monster from his slumber, but this would prove to be the least of Doji’s problems. Most creatures were swept up hopelessly in the currents, but there are beasts large enough to thrash and clamber through this onslaught; and the appetizing scent of blood would prove ample motivation for the sea monster to begin swimming towards its breakfast.

Even beneath the waves the oni could sense the motions of an incoming opponent, holding his breath Doji reached out for the Muramasa, and the weapon’s handle graciously accepted his grasp. As the leviathan creature snapped its teeth towards the red-head it’s teeth were met by the sharp impact of a blade; as the bloodthirsty monsters struggled for control, one’s fang proved sharper than the other, one of the sea monster's teeth began to fracture against the oni’s honed steel.

Still, the prey could only survive beneath the water for so long, outlasting the runt was an inevitability. The only true question was whether or not he could buy enough time for the other tasty little morsels to escape.

Meanwhile…

For a sizable vessel, a storm such as this was easily weathered; the Black Galleon tore through the surf like paper. Standing amongst the winds and ocean spray, the captain of the ship, Minamoto Raiko. The ship’s recently hired crew was up and about, preparing for their Loguetown landing while struggling against the blustering wind. Still, their captain seemed unphased by the squall, standing precariously atop the ship’s masthead: a black dog whose jowls snarled defiantly towards the sea.

[npc=pirt]“Captain look!”[/npc]

The clouds had broken, earnest morning light filtered down from the heavens and reflected off of the samurai captain’s cloudy blue eyes; but this beautiful vista is not what caught Raiko’s eyes. Rather, it was the sea-serpent lunging through the air towards a red-haired devil of a swordsman.

It was like a scene out of a woodblock printing, as the empty-eyed, hardly-conscious, oni gouged out one of the sea monster’s eyes he coughed up a mouthful of water that glinted beneath the sunlight like a prismatic spray. As the leviathan reeled back from its injury, the swordsman and his weapon sloughed off of the creature and fell unceremoniously back to the waves below.

“Woah! Wait a minute!...” the captain was beaming with joy, he turned back from the ship’s helm and took a moment to collect his thoughts before shouting his order to the crew “...okay! Fire the cannons at the sea monster, and see if we can’t haul the big horned guy up with a net!”

Dutifully, the young samurai lord’s crew followed his orders; the enormous sea serpent was frightened off as it was bombarded by cannonfire, and the oni was hauled above deck. Though it took several men to expunge the seawater from the troll’s lungs, the crew successfully resuscitated their newfound “guest.”

As the red-haired demon roused from unconsciousness it seemed wary of the galleon’s full crew, but particularly of the one man looming over and looking directly down on him.

“O-ha-yo…” elongating his syllables as he spoke down to his new captive Raiko trailed off and turned his body towards the passing eye of the storm, “... so, would you like to join the traveling entourage of the Minamoto clan?”

The captain spoke a greeting that Doji had only ever heard from his mother, one used most commonly in Wano Kuni; and out of nowhere the guy was asking for him to join his crew, “Yo-yo-yo ano yaro, why would I do that?”

“Ha! If it weren’t for me and my crew you’d be fish food…” though his voice was still mirthful, he spoke these words with a cold undertone, “... I figured you’d have some gratitude.”

“I see. Well thank you, but I don’t think I can agree, my mother always told me that I was a graceless little ingrate; I'll apologize for my lack of grace, but I won't apologize for not going along with your way, ” the oni spoke curtly, and with no regard for the young lord's stature.

“Guru-kekekeke! I see!...” the gleeful smile on the young man’s face curled into a wicked grin alongside his furrowed brows, “... How about this then! We’ll have a little duel, if you win you can have your freedom; if I do, your life is mine~”

The demon hesitated a moment before sitting up and responding to the little samurai, “Fine. We can do that. In a contest of skill and the conflict of wills, I've met only one man I call my better and I am sure that you are nowhere near his skill. Where and when would you like to be defeated?”

“Hah! Eager to get it over with I see! We’ve got a brief stop to make first, I’ll explain when we get there.”

About an Hour Later…

As the crew and captive made port and disembarked from their vessel, they were met by the bustling sounds of the rogue safe haven; though plenty of pirates slept hungover from the night before, there were equal number who were eager to fence their booty or begin making preparations for their trip over Reverse Mountain.

As the gang of samurai-led pirates made their way into the den of thieves, the monster seemed taken aback by the absence of fear amongst the general public; though the horned troll stood well above most of the pirates who dwelled amongst the port’s recesses, the rough-and-tumble denizens seemed hardly eager to make way for the procession.

“So, about our fight–” Doji spoke curtly down to the captain but was interrupted by the sounds of nearby shrieking.

The little man stood just over three feet tall, his face obscured beneath the hood of a burlap cloak, careening around the corner as quickly as his wee legs could carry him he cried out for help.

[npc=misc]“Ah-hya-hyEEEEK! Th-there’s a giant! A giant! O-oh…”[/npc] staring up at the red-haired oni, the little man’s terror was exacerbated, [npc=misc]“... another of ‘em! They must be in cahoots! We’re under siege by brobdingnagians! Sound the alarms! Call the Marines! Anybody help!”[/npc]

Though his ridiculous pleas fell on deaf ears amongst those on the street, his following blood-curdling scream did not. The man’s voice was several times larger than his person, and reverberated throughout the streets of Loguetown like the bleating cry of an agonizing goat. Like clockwork, drunken men began rousing from their slumber and disgruntledly hollering out of their windows down towards the site of the incident.

Whether they’d intended to or not, the giants had roused everybody from their slumber and now all eyes were on them.

Word Count:

The embers of a destructive battle rained upon a blood-soaked village deep in the waters of the Grand Line. Giant marauders and marines alike were locked into a never-ending battle with each other, just when death seemed inevitable, wounds seemed to close up and the warriors' wills became brighter than ever. For some, an endless battle is all they could ask for.

But a certain purple-haired giant wanted more in life.

Clawing his way through the red snow, an oversized teenager emerged. Bruises and cuts could be found everywhere on the bloodied man, but they would fade as they always did. Sighing in relief once his body had begun healing again, the soldier stood up and jumped back into the battlefield.

In the middle of the town square stood the leader of the mindless marauders, a lanky, blue-bearded champion with a shining spear.

The spear-wielding chieftain looked down at the teenager as he approached. “Skoll! Why have you stopped fighting? This better not be about those stupid dreams of yours!” The Chieftain gestured to Skoll’s axe. "You are a soldier, fighting is all you’re good at now, and it’s all you’ll be good at one hundred years from now! The sooner you get that through that thick skull of yours the happier you’ll be!”

Gripping his axe in anger, Skoll threw it into a nearby tree, causing it to loudly fall to the ground. “This time is different, I’m tired of fighting!”

The Chieftain bellowed as he got into a battle-ready stance. “Vikikikiki! So be it! But you can’t leave until you kill me!”

Dilapidated Marine Base, Loguetown

“AAAAAAAARGH!”

Skoll opened his eyes to find himself chained in a dirty, dimly lit room. The teenager had no recollection of making landfall anywhere, but the purple-haired drifter’s episodes of sleepwalking meant that he had a habit of never waking up where he went to sleep.

Scanning the room he saw a lone, scrawny man wearing a shirt that could have been mistaken for Swiss cheese. Clearing his throat Skoll began to speak to the man. “Who are you?” Looking up, the malnourished man confidently pointed to a tattoo on his chest. [npc=pirt]“The names Al N., I’m a member of the New Raven Pirates, five million berry bounty… Heard of me before?”[/npc]

Skoll yawned as he tore off the rusty chains that bound him. “Only five million? I really did go to the Minors.” Skoll moved towards his guitar, which was on the ground a couple of steps away. [npc=pirt]“You can’t leave, Captain Poe said you need to repay us and join the crew. If it wasn’t for us yanking you out of that storm you would be sleeping with the fishes by now!”[/npc]

Resting the purple bass on his shoulders, Skoll walked over to one of the enclosed room's walls. “I have no interest in being a pirate, I wouldn’t want to be in your crew even if you were a Yonkou.” Gripping the neck of the bass with both of his hands Skoll swung his beloved instrument into the brick wall. “Yawning Yamaha!” brick exploded outward, causing light to spill into the once-dark warehouse. Now able to get a good look Skoll could see he was in a Marine base, though it looked like the Chore Boys hadn’t shown up to clean for a fair amount of years.

“Where’s my ship?” Skoll turned to the thin man.

Al, now hiding behind a nearby crate after almost eating bricks for breakfast, shakily
answered. [npc=pirt]“Steve is repairing it, down by the docks, Poe wanted to sell it once it was repaired.”[/npc] Walking towards the city proper, Skoll only had one more thing to say. “Go tell him it’s not for sale. Unless you want me to collect your bounty to pay for it! Skokokoko!”

Half an Hour Later

The streets were strangely quiet as Skoll inspected his guitar. “I gotta stop swinging it that hard… Or else I might actually have to start bounty hunting if this thing breaks.” In the teenager's lack of awareness, he narrowly missed stepping on a pedestrian, who began screeching horribly loud, even for a rockstar like Skoll. [npc=misc]“Giant!!! Monster!!! I heard about what you giants do! I’m not gonna let you kill me!”[/npc]

Before Skoll could argue with the small man, he was nearly out of sight, leaving him to deal with the aftermath. The locals started to wake up and open their doors and windows, With no one else to share the blame for the noise, the townspeople angrily ripped into the rockstar.

[npc=misc]“Don’t you know how early it is!?”

“Keep it down, you big oaf!”

“Go up Reverse Mountain already!”

“You pirates are so noisy!”[/npc]

Frustrated, Skoll jogged after the much smaller menace. “You come back here and tell them I didn’t do anything!” Thankfully, one of Skoll’s steps covered a lot more distance than the three-foot-tall terrors. After a minute or two Skoll found the little man, who was to no surprise screaming again. "I’m not working with anybody! I wouldn’t need anyone's help to lay siege to this dump of an island if I wanted to anyway!”

Skoll’s face grew red as he looked at the faces of the confused townspeople “Not that I would do something like that…”

Word Count:

“Oy! Oy! Like it’s my fault the little guy decided to start screaming?” The oni threw his hands dramatically outwards towards the people yelling out of their tenement windows, all-in-all this did little to calm the commotion; being as his shoulders were about level with the second story windows of most of the houses, the monster’s gesture seemed to most more like a threat than a peace-offering.

The streets had grown cacophonous between the screaming of the little man, the villagers, and Raiko’s entourage of hired mercenaries. The oni seemed completely overwhelmed, amongst the frenetic soundscape he was truly blind. That was until the echoes that constituted the thing's sight bounced off of the large figure’s form, a focal point amongst the sonic “darkness,” it was the frame of an even larger giant.

Seeming equally nonplussed by the hollering townspeople, the large man was another voice of sanity; fortunately a bit louder than the incessant little folk that surrounded the larger than life figures. The oni took a moment to collect himself and reconstruct his surroundings in his mind’s eye. Taking a deep breath and drawing the battered remains of his last hook sword, in a single stride the oni closed the distance on the little fellow and swept him up in his talons.

“You wanna know who woke you up? It’s this little asshole!...” Doji held the man aloft, his little cloak stuck through by the sharpened hilt of the oni’s weapon, “... you want some peace and quiet?! Then why don’t you all just shut up?!”

The monster screamed his command out to the surrounding tenements, and simultaneously hurled the little man through the window of a nearby bar;  though the sound of the tiny man's body rolling through furniture and silverware could still be heard from outside, the human alarm-clock had been silenced.

Al. N, having tailed Skoll dutifully, was hot on the tail of his crew’s new asset, [npc=pirt]“Hey listen man, I’m gonna go run n’ talk to Steve and Poe. I’ll make sure they don’t sell yer boat, but I don’t think Captain’ll take kindly to your refusal–”[/npc]

The man’s words were cut off by a sharp and astute interjection, “Guru-kekekeke! Your captain is looking to enlist a man like that?! Can’t say I’m surprised he’d refuse! And if your little crew can’t beat ‘im into submission then he wasn’t meant to be your monster!”

Strength was domination, and without sufficient strength to lead a person you were undue their service or loyalty, in this way Doji and Raiko’s perceptions were not so different.

[npc=pirt]“Hey! Why don’t you mind your own business buddy?!”[/npc] Al. N hollered back at the black-haired gallant.

A childlike smile crossed Raiko’s smile as he answered, “I believe that I just might be doing so…” taking a confident stride towards the pair, the warrior captain met Al. N’s gaze with a predatory menace in his eyes, “... tell me, could I ask for a small meeting with your captain?”

In this moment, the streets were unearthly quiet, as though the air itself was overcome with silent dread. A dismissive sneer washed across the red-haired demon's face as Raiko further forestalled the coming duel.

[npc=pirt]“I-I uh, yeah…”[/npc] the pirate’s blood ran cold in the presence of the seemingly-chipper misplaced samurai and the devil that followed him, [npc=pirt]“... yeah I can take you to him.”[/npc]

“Perfect!” With a bright gleaming smile Raiko clapped his hands together in satisfaction.

“Hell, if you’re lucky I’ll offer you a place on my crew too,” the captain muttered quietly to himself as he turned his back on the man and recouped with his company.

Meanwhile, inside the nearby bar…

[npc=misc]“I swear it, that foreigner and his gaggle of thugs brought a pair ‘a giants to ransack your turf…”[/npc] lying in a puddle of alcohol and his own blood, the wee fellow wheezed out to the gathered pirates, [npc=misc]“... you’ve gotta stop ‘em. One of them said he could lay siege to the place on his own.”[/npc]

[npc=pirt]“Well, whaddya think Bennie?”[/npc] A scrawny but beer-bellied first-mate spoke over to his captain.

“We got a guy tryin’ to collect giants, and a big fella who thinks he can take on a whole nest a’ thieves on his own…” the bulky captain downed his third glass of grog for the morning, “... I figure erry’one involved could use a reality check, eh?”

Word Count:

Thanks to the efforts of the puny loudmouth, A sizable group of Loguetown’s finest had become angry at the foreigners, and most importantly, Skoll. While rocks and various pieces of garbage bounced off of the giant's skin, Skoll was reminded of the nights on tour he spent throwing booze and berries alike into crowds of his band’s supporters. Skoll’s brief stint of fame felt like it was a lifetime ago. The rockstar could never go back into the Grand Line, not after what happened after that last party…

Before Skoll could continue beating himself up any further, he noticed the red-headed samurai make his move. In just a brief moment the small fool was swept up into the air. Laughing, the oversized guitarist was glad someone was finally teaching him a lesson. At least, Skoll was happy until he saw that poor soul get launched through a window.

“Ska Ska Ska! Serves you right after you went and lied to all these people-”

Hearing the glass break and fall on the ground, Skoll stomped over to the mysterious samurai, “Dude! What’s the big idea!? What if he’s dead? That guy could have had a family or something!”

In the middle of Skoll’s very necessary lecture, Al. N made his appearance. Hearing a familiar voice, the rockstar turned around and was immediately cut off by the black-haired samurai. Frustrated, Skoll clenched his fists and waited until Al was done getting bullied by the arrogant swordsman.

Once their discussion was over, Skoll took the silence as an opportunity to take the stage. Stepping into the middle of the street, Skoll could feel dozens of eyes on him, watching with a mix of curiosity and fear. Clearing his throat, the rockstar took out his bass and began to air his grievances, “You know, I’ve had it up to here with all of this-”

Unfortunately for Skoll, his captive audience would never know what he was going to say. In the middle of the giant’s speech, he fell victim to his greatest enemy, Sandman. Falling backward, Skoll hit the ground with a booming thud. The rockstar’s guitar didn’t fare any better. Now released from Skoll’s grip, the bass crashed right into the same bar that the little man was thrown into.

---

Jolting awake, Skoll quickly tore his way past the freezing blanket of snow that covered him. Foregoing his axe the irritated youth made way for the center of the flaming town. The Chieftain sat in the same place as before, although he looked more bestial. Blue feathers covered his entire body, at least in the places that weren’t already soaked in blood.

“Vikikiki! I’m guessing you’re here for a rematch? Don’t even bother, deep down you know I am right about you”

The Chieftain slowly approached Skoll, “I can’t even stand looking at you! The first sign of real hardship and you ran away with your tail tucked between your legs! You belong to Elbaf, not some worthless rock in the East Blue!”

Skoll lunged at the blue monster but was swatted away. Falling into a frozen fountain, Skoll was left floating in the world's largest ice bath.  Sitting up, Skoll looked at his reflection in the water, but what Skoll saw in the water didn’t look anything like him.

When the giant looked at his arms he realized he wasn't seeing things after all. Feathers now covered his arms. Skoll angrily broke the side of the fountain, causing water to pour out and lightly flood the street, “Make me go back to normal! I don’t want to be like you! Regardless of what you say, my will is stronger than yours! I’ll try as many times as it takes to win!”

---

Opening his eyes Skoll looked at the blurry, cloudy sky. Slowly getting to his feet, Skoll rubbed the back of his head, “Let’s just forget that happened…” Unable to grab the guitar that should’ve been on his back, the rockstar panicked. Whipping his body around he saw his trusty instrument embedded into the very same building that the loudmouth was thrown into.

Yanking the bass out of its spot, Skoll could now see the true scope of the damage he caused. The top of the building looked like a bite had been taken out of it. Skoll rested the guitar on his shoulders before speaking again, “Well on the bright side it looks like no one got too hurt, except for that one of course.” Skoll gestured to the short man that was still on the ground. “I’d pay you guys for the damage but I’m a little low on cash at the moment. Luckily only the head of the guitar hit this place, who knows what could have happened otherwise...”

Leaving that situation before he could get a response from the bar's regulars, Skoll moved toward Al N., "I'm tagging along too. Your captain still has my boat.”

Word Count:

Even had Skoll stuck around to hear out the establishment’s patrons, he would have been met only with stunned silence and perhaps a whimper of pain; excluding the blind man, everybody, saw the head of the massive guitar fall through the bar’s remaining window, it crashed through the middle of its wooden shutters and shattered the paned glass inwards. Rather than simply crumpling beneath the weight of the instrument the building seemed to explode inwards, a glimmering spray of broken glass swept through the interior, cutting at the faces of those sitting at the bar like an overzealous barber.

As the giant and his troupe strode off towards the docks, the bulky old pirate captain stood from his seat, his fist clenched with veins bulging, “Tashi-mashi-te-te-te-te…” falling one by one like leaves from a tree, the now-clippings of the man’s finely groomed beard and mustache sprinkled the countertop, “... right then. I was thinkin’ we’d have a bit of fun with the big fellas, but now its personal. Lads, get yer lazy asses down to the docks n’ get ready to embark; I say we broadside the bastards.”

The crew dwelled in disgruntled silence, many with bloodied faces, some with clipped facial hair; the First Mate, unlucky enough to have been sitting adjacent the window, was half-blinded in the barrage, he reiterated his captain’s orders with a bitter anguish in his voice, [npc=pirt]“well?! What are you all waiting for?! They drew first blood!...”[/npc] grabbing his coat and heading down towards the exit he led the charge, [npc=pirt]“... let’s show these giant fuckers they can’t waltz around doin’ whatever they want! They’re walkin’ target practice! I say we can still have plenty of fun with this Cap’n Vane!”[/npc]

If the tiny man’s heart wasn’t trying to beat its way out of his chest he would be wailing in terror, with his eyes bulging out of his head he gasped for air, but still could not steady his panic; like a fainting goat he fell face-first to the shard-laden floorboards. Though he would awaken eventually, he would continue to sleep in dreamless torpor for almost a day’s time; for those hours the child-sized man was cradled in the arms of the reaper and found gentle comfort in the land of the dead, the fate of the meek and dreamless could be only the numbing embrace of death.

On the Docks of Loguetown Heavy Footsteps Fall…

“Oy. Oy! Oyy! Yo…” though he cupped his hands and spoke in a loud whisper, the oni was hardly subtle, and a number of Raiko’s men shot back agitated looks at the beast as it spoke, “... how are you gonna pass out on me after makin’ me reconsider the consequences of my actions? That’s not fair, man! I mean aren’t you used to dealin’ with these people at this point? You’re bigger than I am, they gotta be even more annoying to you.”

As the eclectic gaggle paced their heavy footsteps down the busy dockside of Loguetown, those who surrounded them seemed unsettled by the presence of the giants and their samurai "leader. Though pirates and merchants alike did their best to carry out their business in peace, the communal sense of unease continued to grow alongside the thundering of the dark stormclouds above, the atmosphere seemed almost too rife for war.

“Did you do anything to him anyways? Seemed like a small guy with an oversized voice, if I were tiny and weak like him, I think I’d mind my own business a little more ya know? At least if I had anything to lose,” Doji seemed solemn as he posed his theory; he thought back to all those weaker than him that he’d maimed or killed, and wondered if his ambitions were worth the scale of suffering he had caused.

The weapon at the oni’s hip seemed eager to answer the question for him, though he had stayed it from its urge to rip the prey-animal to pieces in the moment he’d hurled the little fellow through the window.

There’s only one way: forwards. There’s only one thing you can do for the dead: win. Cut your way forwards until you attain your dream…

Word Count:

Skoll raised an eyebrow at the red-haired oni’s question, “If I attacked people every time I got upset, I would be in Impel Down or dead” Skoll yawned before he continued, “I didn’t even notice that guy before he started causing panic. But my innocence doesn’t give me the right to attack him.”

Holding his bass in front of him Skoll checked it again for any damage, “I think we always have something to lose. Anyone can lose their way and become someone they’re not. Those with weak wills lack the drive to stay true to themselves when it matters most.” The rockstar looked at the oni’s sword, “But what is the right way when staying true to yourself puts other people in danger? Are your ambitions worth more than the lives of others?”

Just as Skoll was about to continue, Al dejectedly turned to the foreigners, [npc=pirt]“Up here is Steve’s Shipyard. Captain Poe and the others should still be with him.”[/npc]

Knowing that freedom was closer than ever, Skoll abandoned the group and charged forward, “If they did anything to my boat!”

---

Steve’s Shipyard, Some Minutes Ago…

[npc=pirt]“That ungrateful, purple-haired punk!”[/npc]

A stocky, middle-aged pirate paced back and forth near his ship before abruptly stopping, The man took out a wooden club and threw it into the already damaged vessel. A group of grunts immediately scrambled to start repairing the ship as the pirate captain fell to the ground.

A tall, yellow-bearded man lay nearby on a crate, [npc=pirt]“Get over it already Captain, I told you it was more trouble than it was worth to save that big bastard.”[/npc] The bearded pirate sat up, revealing the many bruises that covered his body, [npc=pirt]“Look at me! This is what happened to me when he was still asleep!”[/npc]

Angered by the blatant disrespect from his subordinate, Poe took a few long seconds to fumble around for his bounty poster, [npc=pirt]“You see this? The Marines think I'm worth seventeen million berries!”[/npc] Poe smugly stared down his compatriot, [npc=pirt]“Tell me, Eddie. What’s your bounty again?”[/npc]

Eddie slowly climbed to his feet and turned to leave the shipyard, [npc=pirt]“Grow up Poe, That bounty is all cool now, but one day you’ll realize how you’re always going to be living with that target on your back. Just remember that I told you so when all this catches up with you.”[/npc]

Sensing the tension in his shipyard, an old fellow climbed out of the broken boat. The elderly man was dressed in blue overalls with the words ”Steve’s Ships and Shipping” embroidered on them. Limping over to the crew’s captain, Steve sat down and handed him a bottle of ale, [npc=misc]“So you never told me, What exactly happened to you out there?”[/npc]

Sighing, Poe looked upwards, [npc=pirt]“Everything was fine until we saw that guy heading straight for our ship…”[/npc]

---

Skoll, now a decent bit ahead of the group of strange samurai, was surrounded by large stacks of shipping containers. Graffiti and Jolly Rogers littered the seemingly uninhabited shipyard. Slowly stepping forward, the rockstar made sure to be a little quieter than he usually did. If it was true that Poe was going to be upset with him, Skoll wanted to make sure no one would get the drop on him.

[npc=pirt]“Came back for round two I see!”[/npc]

The bassist jumped in place before panicking. Unfortunately for the bearded pirate, Skoll’s first instinct was to kick where he heard the voice under him. When the rockstar’s boot collided with the already bruised man, the much smaller man was rocketed into one of the nearby shipping containers, leaving a person-shaped indent in the metal.

Collecting himself, Skoll rushed over to the injured man, “Geez man, you scared me something fierce. Are you okay?” The blonde pirate looked up at Skoll before letting out a weak laugh, [npc=pirt]“On second thought, I don’t want a rematch anymore”[/npc]

In response to the loud noise the impact made. Members of the New Raven Pirates came out of the woodwork and eventually surrounded Skoll. Far in the back of the group a portly pirate ever so slowly waddled his way to the half-giant, [npc=pirt]“And Eddie was just recovering from your last attack. That’s no way to treat one of your fellow crewmates.”[/npc]

Skoll looked ahead, trying to locate his longboat, “Listen, Poe, you're Poe right? I don’t know who you are or why you and your crew think I’m joining you, but it’s not happening. After my last band fell apart I would much rather stay a solo act.” The purple-haired bassist looked down at the captain, “I don’t want any problems. All I want is my ship back.”

Laughing, Poe motioned for his crew to attack, [npc=pirt]“Don’t you fall asleep again! We’re not going to play nice this time!”[/npc]

Word Count:

As Poe and his men began their attack on the titan, the samurai caught up with their oversized ally. Initially, Raiko’s men seemed ready to leap into action against the bilge rats, but their young lord bid that they hold position.

The young samurai was curious to see the power of a giant firsthand. In his secluded New World home the lesser lord had only errant tales of the people of Elbaf: the mighty and unstoppable warriors of the Behemoth’s homeland…

… in the pragmatic warrior-statesman’s mind: perfect soldiers by nature.

Meanwhile, the tallest of the Wano-Kuni descendants stepped forwards through the rest of Raiko’s mercenaries, borderline trampling them as he pushed through and broke from the crowd. Doji didn’t pay much mind to the little folks haranguing the saintly skald, he was more interested in interrogating the man’s question.

“I suppose it would have to depend on the ambition and which lives were lost wouldn’t it?...” The oni spoke with a solemn tone in his voice as he sat his back against the wall of a nearby building, “... you think any of this could have been built if people weren’t willing to die and kill for it? That’s naive, these things that surround us are like the embers of an old flame.”

One of Poe’s men was overzealous in his duties, and charged towards the oni, who up until this point was simply minding his own business, “what I will give you…” Doji mumbled over to Skoll as he bent down and flicked the little man in the forehead with his index finger, knocking the grunt out cold, “... is that the innocent ought to be spared the brunt of men’s ambitions. The question ultimately comes down to who you call innocent, disturbing the peace, must ring a bell eh?”

It was fortunate enough that the giants and pirates were on an island of pirates, merchants, and scoundrels, lest they be charged with the crime themselves.

“I’ll say, you’re probably right. I was pretty rough on the guy. I’ll wish the little loudmouth a speedy recovery and hope the whole ordeal was enlightening for him,” the oni's face portrayed a certain degree of remorse for callousness of his needless violence. As a moment of silence passed, it seemed as though the blind monster was solemnly considering the price that his foolhardiness, and the ever-hungry curse of his weapon, had already exacted.

Back amongst Raiko’s ranks, one of the mercenaries looked behind his traveling party; a crowd of disgruntled men were hurriedly preparing to embark, readying their cannons despite the fact they were still docked. He wondered exactly what the pirates had planned, perhaps they would meet another ship on the waters and battle?

The man figured it a petty matter of pride and turned his attention back to the battle at hand.

Word Count:

Massive hands swatted away the seemingly endless horde of haggard ankle biters. With too many opponents to comfortably handle, Skoll’s jeans were becoming more ripped than he preferred. The purple-haired giant grit his teeth in frustration, “If I knew the people living in the Blues were this fragile, I would’ve just stayed in Paradise!” The rockstar’s annoyance was not completely unfounded. Most of the attackers were ending up bruised and battered without Skoll even wanting to hurt them. After only a minute or so, Skoll couldn’t find anyone left that was stupid enough to try and kill him.  

Feeling as though something was off, Skoll nudged one of the pirates,"Wasn’t your captain here too? You guys shoulda ran off too, I could have really hurt you, fellas…”

Before the bloodied bandit could respond, Skoll’s attention was captured by the red oni. Curious, the rockstar listened to the samurai while making sure the pirates were all alive, “I get ran outta town all of the time for no real reason, But I have definitely disturbed people’s peace as well” Skoll gestured to the guitar strapped to his back, “Men like us shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells our entire lives, But as it stands, I can only think of one island where people like us could live freely…”

Just when Skoll was about to finish his thought, An unseen pirate jumped from the top of his ship and dealt a mighty blow to the back of Skoll’s head. Scrambling to not fall back to the ground, the portly pirate clung to the back of Skoll’s jacket.

Dazed from the sudden impact, Skoll was unable to keep himself conscious, “So… not… cool…” The now-sleepwalking giant took a couple of steps to steady himself before stopping. Uncharacteristically fast, Skoll reached over his shoulder and grabbed the stowaway. Lightly throwing the pirate to the ground, Skoll quickly took out his guitar and swung wildly at the ground, “Don’t touch my coat!”

Barely fit enough to run away from each hit of the guitar, the stocky man realized his only option was to talk it out, [npc=pirt]“Hey! I don’t really want to fight anymore so-”[/npc] Poe was cut off by a loud crash. Turning around, the pirate captain saw that the giant had damaged his ship again. Horrified and enraged, the captain’s resolve returned to him, [npc=pirt]“You dumbass! Quit breaking my ship!”[/npc]

Jolting awake, Skoll frantically scanned his surroundings, “My ship is broken!?” Skoll looked down at the captain, “Poe, did you see who’s messing with my ship?” The rockstar surveyed the area some more, “Where is my ship?” The portly pirate’s face slowly turned red in frustration, [npc=pirt]“YOU’RE the one breaking MY SHIP!”[/npc]

The rockstar tilted his head, “Are you sure? This ship looks like it already took some damage-” If Skoll was a few feet shorter he might’ve been able to see the steam shooting out of Poe’s ears, [npc=pirt]“That was all you!”[/npc] Poe pointed behind Skoll to the damage he caused during his short rampage, [npc=pirt]“All of this was you! Do you break everything you touch!? Stay away from my ship and crew. Trying to recruit you was much more trouble than it was worth…”[/npc]

Irritated, Skoll balled up his fists, “Believe me, If I wanted to break something you’d know!” Turning around, Skoll walked back to the group of samurai, “Good luck talking with that guy, All of these locals are unreasonable…”

Word Count:

“Indeed! Foolish of men as weak as them to try to enlist a man like you! However, I have a prop–” Raiko was rudely cut off as he began his attempt at recruitment.

“Yoka-ka-ka-ka-iii! What you wanted to force the guy to work with ya and use ‘im for his strength and now you’re upset he was too strong for you to push him around? Boo hoo! I wonder who could have seen that coming?”

Though directed at Poe, the oni’s taunting was not lost on Raiko; for a moment the men were lost for words, a couple of the mercenaries eyes bulged out of their skulls as they anticipated the coming bloodshed.

[npc=pirt]“Oh brilliant fucking observation from the blind man!”[/npc] Poe paced back and forth as he stared up at the monsters, against creatures like these a man of his stature had little recourse, in lieu the man drew a flask from his belt and threw it to his lips with a loud slosh. The stench of the booze wafted pungently into the air, whatever Poe was drinking smelled about as hard as lye.

Doji smiled down condescendingly at the impotent man, “that all you can do? Drink and try to forget getting stepped on your whole life? Sake is for closers! Shini-hi-hi-hi…”

The oni trailed off, and instead of continuing to hurl insults the man’s way he drew his own flask to his mouth and drank with a cruel grin plastered across his face.

Raiko’s men glared with frustration at the oni and his needless interruption of their captain, meanwhile the last of Poe’s men slinked away from the docks, abandoning their captain and leaving him to his own devices.

The blind brute paid no mind to his transgression, it was only by virtue of the flask at Doji’s mouth that Raiko was able to speak again uninterrupted.

“Anyways, as I was saying…” the black-haired samurai gestured towards Skoll as he spoke his offer, “... I promise me and my crew would make for stronger allies, would you join us in traversing these Blue Seas? I can make it well worth your while, and if you can help me to find that which I seek, the reward should be rather lucra–”

Again, his attempt at persuasion was interrupted, it was as though the universe was conspiring to not let him get a word in edgewise.

Like a refrain of drummers rattling off their beats, a wave of cannon fire was sent hurtling towards the docks of Loguetown; the first volley had been aimed solely towards the largest target available: Skoll.

Though Doji was a bit buzzed already from chugging booze, the red-haired, red-faced, lad was quick to react to the percussive sounds that alerted him to the incoming missiles.

It’d be a shame to prove this guy right, Doji thought to himself flippantly before throwing himself off of his perch.

Kipping off of the building’s roof and leaping gracefully into the air, the rōnin performed a stunt so intentionally flamboyant it seemed almost comical: as he flipped and tumbled through the air, he waited until he was upside down and face-to-face with the wave of artillery shots; it was only at this moment that he drew his sword.

For a moment it seemed as though nothing had happened, as though the oni had drawn his sword, and simply indulged himself in a feat of acrobatics to celebrate the death of his new acquaintance.

It was only as Doji landed in the wreckage of one of the ships that his technique’s effects made themselves evident.

Nine explosions, rattling off in an instant like a chain of interconnected fireworks, sent the cannonballs intended for Skoll’s skull scattering into the ocean below.

“You see? With sufficient force, men like you and me can carve freedom for ourselves wherever we go, into the very surface of this reality. But I’m curious…” Doji strained against the weight of his words as his blade immediately began hungering for blood, the inescapable burden would nag at his mind until he gave into its demands, “... what’s the island you’re talkin’ about? Where do you believe we could truly live free?”

Word Count:

Skoll blankly stared at the samurai captain as he spoke. The rockstar was puzzled why these two men in particular thought Skoll would ever think about joining them. The bassist was no pirate, but if he was, he would never join someone who saw him as a mere weapon.

It seemed that the blind oni held a similar view, although they probably arrived at the same conclusion through different logic. The purple-haired rockstar looked over to the larger samurai, “This guy sounds just like a pirate from back home… Where’s he from?”

The big man couldn’t think too long before Poe showed up. Once Doji had left the scene Skoll couldn’t help but laugh at the short pirate, “Skokoko! Don’t be too hard on that guy, you’re even more blind than him if you ever thought I was going to join you!” The former pirate captain couldn’t do much but keep drinking in response to the comments from the two giants. If it wasn’t for the fact that Poe had been overly rude earlier, Skoll might have felt pity for him.

Under the belief that he was now going to be left alone, Skoll started to play a monotonous riff on his guitar. After only a brief respite from the recruiting efforts, the black-haired samurai spoke to the giant again. The volume of Skoll’s guitar rose as the samurai spoke in an attempt to block out the smaller man’s words. Unfortunately for the rockstar, the increase in volume also blocked out the sound of the impending attack.

Hearing the sudden cannon fire, Skoll opened his eyes and saw that he was the target. “Aw, man… I can’t afford to get any scars on my face!”

Just when it seemed as though Skoll was going to let himself get hit by the volley, the swordsman intervened, A brief moment passed where nothing happened, but the explosions that followed fully captured Skoll’s attention.

Skoll looked towards the smaller samurai before heading to the wreckage the oni now stood atop of, “Can you do that too?”

Stunned, the samurai responded to the condescending remark, “I’ll have you know- Wait! I’m still talking to you!”

Skoll approached the oni, bass on his shoulder, “Skokoko! Only the strong are free to act as they like, but it was your restraint that saved me.” The rockstar looked out to the sea, “If you had been any other brute, those cannonballs would’ve blown up in our faces!” Playing his bass again, Skoll continued, “Even the most spirited song requires focus to play perfectly.”

The purple-haired giant smiled, “There was one island I always wanted to go to, but my band was told it's too dangerous to go there. The homeland of Giants, Elbaf!”  

“Have you been there before?”

Word Count:

“Elbaf, huh?…” Doji struggled to recall, but he had heard the name once, but not in a long while, “... I remember one night, my mom got really drunk. She rambled for a long time about our family back in Wano, and then she started talking about that place.”

The giant-oni was just a wee human boy when his mother had gone on her rant, he didn’t remember much in the way of details; but he understood something better now as a young adult looking back.

“I think she must have been mad about an Ex. She talked about it like it was this amazing, magical, land at first, but she made it out to be a real shithole the more she talked about it; whoever that guy she was seeing there was – he was more of a monster than she ever could have known when she met him.”

The Muramasa’s hunger raged as the oni carried out the conversation, he would have to sate it himself. With a blind man’s attempt at discretion, he ran his palm along the length of the blade, allowing it to feed on his blood.

There, will you shut up now?... Doji thought to the weapon, eager to carry on with the more interesting matter at hand, “... for what it’s worth I never really thought of the place much until now. If they didn’t want your band goin’ there I’d bet that it’s out in the New World–”

Another round of cannon fire interrupted the long-winded rōnin philosopher, this time the shots were aimed for him.

It was fortunate that firing upon Doji required the men to aim their shots into the wreckage of the ships, otherwise the shots would have been outright devastating. A spray of wreckage flew forth from the docks and scattered onto the adjoining city street.

Stepping out from amongst the overturned boat and broken planks of wood, the oni spoke up to the giant as he began a brisk jog inland, “I figure we ought to continue this conversation outside the front lines eh? If they really want a fight they’ll know where to find you.”

Concurrently

As torrential waters and boat fragments hurtled towards him and his men, Raiko drew his sword; in an instant the incoming wave and all it carried were severed into jagged, broken shapes that were sent hurtling outwards; as though cut in the fractal pattern of a lightning bolt.

“We shouldn’t let those two get far, and either way this place is done for…” It was at this moment that Raiko was glad he had laid anchor at the island’s less popular port, “... let’s get moving, tail the big guy!”

As the monsters, the samurai, and the mercenaries head further into Loguetown, the men aboard the “Treasure Stache” plot their next move…

[npc=pirt]“Looks like they’re outta range boss, what do you figure we do now?”[/npc]

The man looked as though he was weighing a heavy decision before he spoke, “Well, I know the things sell for a hefty sum…” unlocking a small chest, Captain Ben revealed a barbed pineapple covered in branching swirls, “... but I figure giving this little guy a try is our best shot at contendin’ with monsters like them. I hope you all can forgive my selfishness.”

With this Ben Pease, the now bald-faced Captain of the Mustache Pirates, gulped down a Devil Fruit; with a troubled grimace, he barely stomached the wretched thing.

Word Count:

The rockstar listened closely as long as Elbaf was the topic of discussion. Looking out to the attacking vessel, Skoll nodded his head, “From what I’ve heard, Elbaf can be a treacherous land. Love can cloud our vision from things that even the blind can see.” The rockstar looked back to the oni, “Uh… No offense.” Skoll wanted to continue talking, but after the strange swordsman cut his hand, the rockstar’s train of thought derailed itself completely. “I’ve never seen a fighter that purposefully injures himself. Would it be rude to ask why?”

Clearing his throat, “Anyways! You’re right, we should get out of here! These anklebiters are far too troublesome to talk with!” Jogging away from the angry sailors, Skoll and his new ally easily outpaced the much smaller humans. The oni had a point, it wasn’t like he would be able to hide anywhere, so running was the only option left besides killing them.

Breaking the silence Skoll searched for anything to talk about, “So I take it you’re from Wano then? I mean, you’re all samurai so I just assumed.” Looking over his shoulder, Skoll noticed that the band of warriors were still following the duo. “Jeez, I can’t tell if that guy wants to fight us or help us.” The rockstar glanced back at the swordsman’s hand, “If he knew what was good for him, he’d just stay out of our way.”


Back at the Shipyard

---

Poe stumbled drunkenly around the now eerily quiet shipyard. With his crew and dignity all but broken beyond repair, the pirate captain was thankful his bottle had never left his side. Tripping over his own feet, the captain looked up to see a massive, heavily damaged longship. The sails had been torn and the hull looked as if a Sea King had used it as a chew toy. Only able to climb inside because of its damaged state, the drunk perused what he assumed to be the captain's quarters.

The thing was, the furniture was also oversized. Poe racked his brain for any clue as to who was big enough to even live on the ship. The drunk scaled a nearby desk, which was in much better shape compared to its surroundings. After finally making his way to the top, Poe saw a man-sized, leather, book near the desk’s center. Using all the strength his inebriated body could muster, Poe managed to open the tome up. The book's writing was either messy or Poe was even drunker than he thought he was.

Shrugging his shoulders, Poe continued to flip through the pages. From what the pirate could gather, the book appeared to be some sort of journal. The only thing that connected the various entries together was the mention of a land called Elbaf.

Facepalming, the drunken sailor finally realized whose ship he was on, [npc=pirt]“This is perfect! Stealing treasure from that fool should net me enough to hire more men!”[/npc]

Word Count:

“Eh? Some of those guys are wearing kimonos too? I don't know where he's from, but we aren’t together, I’m not from Wano…” as the two drew near the center of Loguetown they came upon a large stone-paved centre, an execution stage standing at its edge, “... my mother is, but she went to the land of Kano before having me. However I’m headed for Wano if I can find a way to get there, I suspect that if my Mother’s master is still alive that I will find him there.”

Raiko scrambled after Doji and Skoll with the fervor and relentlessness of a lightning bolt scrambling from the heavens.

As if alerted to the pursuer's charge before it had even begun, Doji suddenly unsheathed the Muramasa and as he faced off against the young lord the sky grumbled up a resounding thunder, punctuated by the sharp sound of clashing steel.

“I suppose that answers your last question…” Doji spoke over his shoulder to Skoll as he kept the smaller swordsman at the edge of his oversized blade, “... he wanted me to join up with him, seems like he was angling to get you in his ranks too.”

“How prudent! I think both of you would make excellent additions to my late father’s clan! However…” Raiko snarled up to his opponent before whirling his sword upwards into an accusatory point, “... you’d be best not to abandon me and just go running off on your own! If you want your freedom you still owe me a duel oni!”

“Ah, right, and this is how he plans on enlistin’ ya. If you don’t want to get on board he’ll just keep pestering you until you fight him…” Doji disregarded the little man’s yapping as he voiced his disdain to Skoll.

“...alright, are we doing this here and now? I recall you had another site in mind, but you seem quite worked up that we were willing to flee from impending cannon fire.”

“I saw you defend the giant, oni! I’ll obviously have to teach you where your allegiance should lie!” With this, Raiko leapt in for another salvo of attacks.

For all the rōnin’s smug sense of superiority, holding the samurai’s onslaught at bay put a strain on his strength and reflexes; a challenge most mere humans couldn't hope to pose to an oni.

“Guru-ke-ke-ke! Seems like you’re struggling, big guy! Tell me, where did you learn your sword style? Probably some Shimotsuki trash wannabe right?” The New Worlder spoke with some derision towards the so-called “island of swordsmen.”

‘My mother mostly!” With this the oni and his Muramasa lunged for the little man’s heart, and with this the samurai was momentarily forced off of his offensive as he dodged backwards.

This piqued Raiko’s interest, and as he dodged out of the way of the oni’s followup attack he inquired further, “And where was she from?”

“Probably the same place you are jackass!” In his frustration Doji swung down an explosive strike towards the little man, blasting a section of the street below into a gravely crater.

“I see…” standing unharmed atop the execution platform Raiko’s sky-blue eyes flickered with excitement, “... let’s see how your ryū fares against mine then omae.”

(Translations: school of swordsmanship or another discipline, you/buddy, informal)

Word Count:

The young giant scratched his head, a mix of amusement and confusion present on his face, “So…. he thinks that if he beats you, you’ll join him?” The rockstar started cracking up as he walked over to Raiko’s men, “A band needs to have chemistry in order to make a good song, and a man needs more than power to command the respect of others. ”

Skoll looked back at Doji and Raiko, “If I have to fight you I’m at least getting a warm-up in.” The purple-haired punk loomed over the Wano native’s crew. If Skoll couldn’t see the fear in their eyes he could surely see the sweat on their foreheads. Pointing his bass down at the samurai, Skoll gave his last warning, “Any of you smart enough to run away should do so now. I’ll hold back but I can’t promise your safety.”

By the time ten seconds had passed none of the men had fled, or even moved a muscle, “Are you idiots serious!” Skoll pointed at the smaller swordsman, “You’re tellin’ me you’re all so afraid of that guy you’d rather die fighting me!?” The punk took a couple of steps back and readied himself, “I hate weak-willed people like you guys the most!” Gripping the neck of his bass with his right hand, Skoll swung it vertically, “Chart Climber!”

The shockwave sent Raiko’s men flying up into the air a few stories above most of the buildings. Skoll jumped up after them and swung his bass again, “Second Movement!” Just as the men were about to begin falling to the ground a second shockwave hit them, sending them careening away from the site of Doji and Raiko’s battle. Virtually all of Skoll’s “competition” landed on the rooftops away from the execution platform. Some were more conscious than others, but were none dead.

Large cracks spread across the ground when Skoll landed. After making sure that his bass was okay the oversized rockstar sat down, leaning against a nearby building. Beginning to play a simple bassline, the half-giant spoke to the samurai, “Now that those weaklings are gone it’s just us three around, so no excuses if you lose!”

---

Treasure Stache, Five Minutes Ago

[npc=pirt]“So the captain really ate that fruit!?”

“But we didn’t even know what one it was!?

“Wait, the captain’s already gone!?”

“I wanted to watch him fight too!”[/npc]

Pirates scurried around the deck of the Treasure Stache. Without their now stache-less leader present, none of the crew’s members had an inkling of what to do. Amidst the chaos aboard an out-of-shape pirate stood atop a large keg and got the crew's attention. Curling the one end of his mustache left, the pirate calmed his compatriots,[npc=pirt] “We don’t need to do anything, Don’t you all remember what happened to Captain Gillette when we got captured a couple months back?”[/npc]

The rest of the crew knew all too well.

[npc=pirt]“Our captain isn’t the one we should be worrying about here! Let's just loot the shipyard and see what we can find.” [/npc]

Word Count:

Though he may have been speaking to Raiko, the red-haired swordsman took Skoll’s words to heart, no excuses if you lose. The samurai was in a different league from much of the opposition that Doji had faced up until now, in his ventures throughout the blues Doji had met only two kinds of opposition: those that he could crush without effort, and a certain Duke of Lvneel who could do the same to him.

Even from their brief engagement, Doji and Raiko both knew that this was going to be a more even match than much of what they had faced up until this point; even if neither of them would let the other know.

“So then. What’s your school of swordsmanship? Hell, what’s your name? You’ve been too busy trying to force me into going along with your bullshit to make a proper introduction. What’s the name of your daddy’s clan? I wanna know who I should send the casket to, I’d hate to see a samurai without a proper burial.”

As the heavy tremors of Skoll’s bassline flooded through the earth beneath them, Doji turned back to the giant and spoke to the musician before heading into battle, “Thanks for clearing the way; I heard what you said to those guys, I like the way you think. I don’t get guys like him…”

Thunder grumbled in the sky, flashes of lightning struck through the sky, the storm was near.

“... I don’t know why you’d want to rule over a bunch of weaklings. Men without dreams are dead, and dead men tell no tales, let alone legendary ones. My name is Doji, if I die fighting this twerp, I’m glad to have met you. I’m certain that your name will be more worth knowing than his, who are you man?”

Once Skoll and Doji Finish their Introduction…

As the two giants ignored his majesty, a storm brewed within Raiko. The tempest above crackled, thundered, and seemed to flash to life as lightning struck time after time; with each thunderous boom, the rage in the young samurai’s heart grew, this trash dares question my honor? These two are in dire need of discipline.

Taking in a deep breath, the young man steadied himself, and filled his lungs with air before bellowing out a howling long-winded roar, “ORE WA MINAMOTO RAIKO! Once I’m through hammering you pieces of scrap into worthwhile weapons, you’ll serve under the clan of my father! Minamoto Yoritomo! Through our deeds, his name will live on! And you dare question my swordsmanship, oni? I could have ended your life in a heartbeat if I’d so chosen! I am a practitioner of Shintō Munen-ryū, I am the inheritor to the will of the enlightened Fukui Hyōemon Yoshihira! I’ll carve the teachings of my school, and the honor of my clan, into your skull whether you like it or not! And you? What do you practice, scum?”

“Oh, you know, a bit of nitōryū, a bit of ichi, added in some kitsunebi…” blind to the coming storm, a wicked grin spread across Doji’s face as he spoke the words that he knew would shock the man, “... and the technique my mother taught me: Niten Ichi-ryū.”

The name of the school practiced by a sole legendary rōnin hung heavy in the air for a moment.

“Guru-keke…” Raiko chuckled, “... what a fucking joke.”

Word Count:

The purple-haired punk rose to his feet slowly, each step causing the ground to groan in protest of the teenager’s lethargic movements. Skoll rested his trusty bass over his shoulder and spoke loudly enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear.

“My name is Skoll. I’m a traveling rockstar from the Doerena Kingdom.”

Skoll took a couple of steps forward and raised his head, inspecting the worsening storm. “Right now. No one knows me.” The narcoleptic rockstar flashed a bright smile. “But soon there won’t be anywhere in the world my music can't reach!”

Satisfied with his answer, Skoll looked around to see what everyone thought of his impromptu introduction. Luckily for Skoll, his need for other’s approval would actually be of use. In the distance, a short, freshly shaved man rocketed towards the prideful punk. Even though the flying pirate was much shorter than Skoll, his sheer hate and bloodlust seemed to change the very atmosphere.

Steeling himself, Skoll planted his feet into the ground and brought his bass in front of him. A loud shockwave spread across the surrounding area when the pirate captain clashed with the giant’s instrument. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Skoll barked at the pirate. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

Although Skoll could not see his adversary, he was still quite loud himself. “YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM US!”

Raising an eyebrow, the rockstar frowned as he tried to rack his brain for answers. “Wait… You’re one of the guys from that building! I said sorry, didn't I!? Get over it!”

Taking advantage of the captain’s rage. Skoll swung his bass down. The impact caused dust and broken chunks of the road to erupt from the ground. After the dust had cleared,  the bald-faced pirate lay dazed (and bloodied) in the small crater.

Sighing, Skoll inspected his beloved bass. “Phew… As usual buddy! You haven't let me down y-” Mid-sentence, the giant put his sleeping mask on and fell backward. The bassist’s snoring held a rhythm of its own, almost as if the sleeping musician still wished to play a song.

A Certain New World Island… |  December 25th, 1827

[npc=misc]“Skoll! Your next replacement is here!”[/npc]  

Bursting through the door, Skoll pounced upon the gigantic box. Ripping apart the wooden crate with a scary level of efficiency, The half-giant held up the oversized bass. “This one’s purple? Sick!” The young rockstar looked at the suited figure seated on the nearby couch. “Was the label holding out on me or what? Why is this bass so much nicer than the others?”

Scone took a sip of his coffee before lowering his sunglasses. [npc=misc]“Don’t get it twisted, this is no present for your performance lately. After last night’s show, the higher-ups have finally had enough of you breaking their guitars.”[/npc] Scone set his cup down and stood up, not that it made him any taller in comparison to Skoll. [npc=misc]“That baby is specially made for you. I won’t bore you with any of the details, but to put things simply, you cannot break that guitar.”[/npc]

Skoll examined the shiny, purple instrument more closely. “Is that so?”

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“You really expect me to believe that you and your mother are practitioners of that technique?...” Raiko leapt down from the platform, instantly pivoting off of one foot and dashing in, letting forth a jagged rain of slashes against his opponent; the sound of sword clashing against sword time and time again echoed throughout the plaza, “... Niten Ichi-ryū has only one practitioner! And I’m certain that you are not that man, he's not been seen for over a decade! Whatever bastardized sword style you’ve been crutching on until now, it’s no match for Shintō Munen!”

As the final blow of Raiko’s barrage struck the Murasama, Doji’s feet were sent sliding backwards along the ground from the force of the impact; the strength and speed of the human man were exceptional, if it weren’t for the red-haired rōnin’s defensive the blow would have sent the giant-oni flying.

“Stop playing swordsman and submit oni!...” Lightning crashed down, striking the weather vein of a nearby building, “... whatever delusions of grandeur you have, I will end them. HERE AND NOW!”

Though he often wore a grin in the face of danger, Doji’s face was locked in an expression of cold concentration; his mother had always told him of her master’s techniques, irritating the opponent to throw them off their balance, taunting them, employing unusual tactics…

…  none of these maneuvers would serve the oni in this duel. His opponent was a prideful and imperious young man, insults to the man's honor would only embolden him, and as far as the matter of tactics was concerned, the demon had only his sword; the only tactics at play here were whose sword would draw the killing or incapacitating blow.

Fortunately, this was not a matter where the Niten school struggled.

The red-haired devil had been wielding his sword with two hands up until this moment, letting its right hand slough back down to the weapon's scabbard, the rōnin threw the oversized Nodachi over his shoulder. With his free hand, the swordsman untied his saya from his belt, and held it firmly, as though the sheath was a sword itself.

“Pff- and what is this idiocy?” Raiko gestured dismissively to the oni’s improper form; the giant was wielding a two-handed sword in his offhand, and seemed to have mistaken his scabbard for a spare blade. Even if the oni was to use such a ridiculous technique, he surely would have wanted to wield his sword in the right hand; to wield a blade left-handed outside of ni or santōryū was almost unheard of.

“I only have one proper sword at the moment…” the demon grimaced down sadly to the wrecked remains of his hook swords that hung at his belt, “... so this is the best I can do to show you the honor of the Niten Ichi-ryū.”

“Whatever you say, wannab–”

The samurai’s words were cut short, his sword arm was thrown to the left with monstrous strength, but the oni had evidently thrown the full length of his own blade into the strike, as both blades were drawn forcefully down to the pavement of the street. At the very least, the monster’s maneuver hadn’t harmed him…

… striking his chin with explosive force, Raiko felt the reinforced-wood of a saya fracture his chin bone straight down the middle. The young lord was sent flying down the plaza, tumbling down to the ground on his side and skidding to a stop several meters away from the red-haired rōnin.

“What do you know of Nobunaga Mishima? Raiko-chan,” as it drew near its prey, the monster spoke down condescendingly to the warrior.

Coughing up a bit of blood, and steadying his breath as he stood back up to two feet, the samurai spoke derisively of the legendary rōnin, “All I know is that he’s a good-for-nothing lowlife who managed to cheat his way to victory in countless duels, and then fled off into the mountains. Is that who you’re modeling your technique after, monster? I hope you know that your stupid gimmicks can only take you so far! We wield our blades on the right for a reason!”

The brat was quickly caught off-guard by another left-handed strike; swinging toward his head like a guillotine, the blade would have executed him if he’d not managed to duck under it just in time and tumble his way back up onto the execution platform.

The beast quickly gave chase, leaping up high into the air and swinging his blade downward toward the samurai’s head, it seemed as though the rōnin’s Murasama would claim another life and forever stain the dignity of the Minamoto…

… However, just before the death sentence could be dealt, a bolt of lightning struck down from the sky and struck the red-haired monster’s blade. As though by divine intervention, the devil was smote down, falling heavily to the ground with the mass of lightning-patterned burn-scars across his chest growing more fractious.

The cracking hammer of thunder shook the scene, and the heavens pronounced their victor.

“HA! I’ve won, oni! Welcome to your life as a retainer of the Minamoto!”

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Back in the World of Dreams…

No matter how many powerful punches the purple-haired punk sent at the Chieftain, The old, weathered warrior stood resolute, even seeming to relish the show of passion from his younger tribesman. With a flick of his wrinkled wrist, the Chieftain caught Skoll’s ankle with the butt end of his spear, causing the rockstar to fall on his back.

The massive musician looked up at the feathered berserker. Even with blurry vision, Skoll could see the old viking’s arrogant expression clear as day. It was at that moment that Skoll realized what he had been blind to the entire time. Scrambling to his feet, the half-giant booked it as fast as he could down the freezing, flooded street.

Stunned, the Chieftain took a few moments to even start his pursuit, “Where the hell are you going you puny brat! Fight me like a man!”

“I’d have to be a masochist or an idiot to fight a battle I can’t win! We’re going to play by my rules now!

---

A Rude Awakening

As if he had been struck by lightning, the rockstar jolted awake. Lazily sitting up, Skoll fixed his bedhead and scanned the area. The sound of steel clashing against steel rang ceaselessly throughout the plaza. But what really caught the punk’s attention was the defeated pirate. A few careful strides were all it took for Skoll to take a seat next to the injured man.

Nudging the half-conscious criminal, Skoll leaned over to speak, “Since I am already the bigger person between us, I may as well act like it. Ska Ska Ska!” A few seconds passed with no response from the clean-cut captain, “Anyways, I just wanted to give you an actual apology. Even though you don’t deserve it!”

The bassist continued his strange soliloquy, “It can get pretty exhausting, Everywhere I go people either want to fight me…”

Just as Skoll looked over to the battle between the foreign swordsman, the red-haired oni was struck down before the big man’s eyes.

“... or they want me to fight for them.”

Furrowing his brow, Skoll threw his bass over his back and stomped over to the samurai. Once the half-giant was next to the execution platform he lightly kicked Doji, “I went through all that effort to make this a fair fight just for you to get struck by lightning? I take back what I said about there being no excuses for losing.”

The rockstar directed his attention to Raiko next, “And don’t get me started on you! You’ve been acting all high and mighty the entire day just to accept a hollow victory like that!?”

The purple-haired punk’s voice slowly grew louder, “Your complete lack of honor is embarrassing but not surprising.” Skoll motioned to the buildings that the samurai's men were scattered across, “It’s no wonder why only spineless weaklings follow you!”

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“You think this is a stain on my honor, giant?! Destiny itself chose me as the victor of this battle! The heavens only made my work easier! Monsters like you and your friend were meant, no made, to serve my clan! With the help of soldiers like you two we’ll have no trouble defeating that giant and taking over Castle Island!” With a dramatic motion of his sword from his chest to his side, the samurai descended from the pedestal that he stood upon. Despite what the giant considered a fluke victory, the young lord still stood proud in the face of the giants.

Coughing up a mouthful of smoke, Doji returned to lucidity upon hearing Skoll’s attempts to apologize for his loss, “I hate to admit it, but he’s right…” the lightning-patterned burn mark that had been left in Doji’s chest from his encounter with the Duke of Lvneel was renewed, and burned him deep to his corel; the heavens themselves had judged him unworthy of standing against the samurai, and at least for the moment, he would be forced to serve under another clan, “... you said it at the start Skoll, no excuses; there’s no use complaining about whether or not the fight was fair, it doesn’t change the outcome.”

“Your friend is right, Skoll, yes? If you wish to challenge my honor, let us settle things on Castle Island after we’ve dealt with its guardian.”

“What’s this island you want us to help you conquer, oh great and mighty Minamoto-dono?” The devil spat out, his question coated in a facetious venom. The demon, despite his injuries, seemed quite eager to take his opponent on again in a rematch; but for the moment, he was begrudgingly obliged to follow the pompous samurai's orders.

“People used to think it was just a desolate hole in the ground on an outcropping of rock near this island; but recently something emerged from the earth, it sounds too fantastical to be true, but it's a castle fit for a giant. People who have seen it took to calling it Castle Island, people have already attempted to take the place for themselves, but it’s guarded by a giant occupant and his daughter who have been able to stop everybody who’s tried thus far. I’ve already heard talk of assassination plots against the guards, but I’d like to beat all these bilge rats there and take the castle for myself; such a mighty and impressive castle would only be fit for a proper noble clan.”

Hobbling back to his feet, Doji allowed the Muramasa to feed on his own blood before sheathing the blade, the oni's blade seemed most severely disappointed in its wielder's weak showing as it returned to its scabbard.

Leaning up against Skoll, the blind man muttered up to the giant, quietly enough that those of lower physical stature wouldn’t be able to hear him, “I want to see the island this guy is talking about; what do you think? How about we wait to settle things with the guy until we get there and see these other giants he’s talking about?”

As he followed along with the still-intimidated Samurai toward Minamoto’s ship, buying supplies for their voyage along the way,  Doji couldn’t help but feel as though he was forgetting something.

Hey wait a second, where are Nietzche and the rest of the guys from Tequila Wolf?

Meanwhile, on Castle Island

Coughing up a mouthful of water, the umbrella-man wondered where he was, but he was quickly reassured by the sight of his other crewmates surrounding him; he and the prisoners that had joined Doji in their departure from Tequila Wolf were all present, but the captain was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Doji?” Nietzche asked his newfound friends as he dusted sand off of his prison uniform.

[npc=pirt]“I think he was taken by the ship that came and scared off that seamonster, we’re lucky that there was an island nearby to swim to, otherwise we all would have been goners; seems like they were only interested in the captain,”[/npc] one of the more human prisoners, a scar-covered member of the Kumate tribe by the name of Bjorn, helped his comrade back to his feet.

“Okay, next question, where are we?” Nietzche pulled a piece of debris from his hair– curiously, it looked to be a part of the fishing boat’s sail, a long length of softly woven red thread– the pirate quickly tied the thread around his wrist before his ally demanded his attention.

[npc=pirt]“No idea there, but take a look at that,”[/npc] the man gestured with his shillelagh toward an enormous castle; though it was ramshackle in appearance, the structure was enormous, stretching high up into the sky.

“Did we die? Is this a dream?” The anxious man couldn’t believe his eyes.

His fears were quickly heightened as he saw the figure standing on the hill looming above his crew; the woman stood just over thirteen feet tall, horns grew from either side of her head, a mess of dark-blue hair hung down to her back and almost obscured the blood-red glint of her eyes. Wearing a tight-fitting and damaged kimono along with a number of animal pelts, on her shoulder, she carried a cruel-looking club composed of iron alone; even being able to hold such a weapon was a sign of the girl’s monstrous strength.

“What are you people doing here? You don’t even have a ship?” As she spoke the ogre girl lowered her weapon from her shoulder and pointed it at the recently liberated prisoners.

[npc=pirt]“Our ship was destroyed in the storm! Where are we?”[/npc] The Kumate cried up to the imposing figure.

“Hmm…” at this moment, the woman looked as though she was considering whether or not to simply tenderize all of the men with her mallet and scarf them down on the spot. Ultimately, it seemed the monstress wasn’t yet hungry enough to dine upon her lessers, “... you little people have taken to calling it Castle Island. But for those of us who lived here before you people decided to take any interest in it? Me and Papa Soph called this place The Abyss.”

“Is there anything you can do to help us? We came here because we would have drowned otherwise, not because we’re trying to intrude on you and your father’s space!” Nietzche cried up to the girl.

The veins in the blue-haired oni’s head bulged as the insolent human cried up to her and referred to her father.

“Be quiet, puny human! You’re lucky I don’t crush your soft little skull in!...” Juri surveilled the remainder of the group, a menagerie of non-humans who all looked strong enough that they might be of use in restoring the castle to working condition, “... the rest of you come with me!”

Before fully considering the monstrous woman’s demands, the men all turned back to Nietzche, the Kumate spoke to the umbrella-man with a compassionate tone in his voice, [npc=pirt]“You’ll be alright on your own, right Fred?”[/npc]

“Aye, I-I’ll be fine Bjorn, if you can bring some food back to the beach here I’d certainly appreciate it; but I’ll be fine on my lonesome until we can figure out how to get off of this derelict,” Nietzche put on a brave face for his crewmates, smiling to them and waving them off to follow after the blue-haired oni.

As the members of the budding Yokai pirates walked away with the blue-haired oni girl, Nietzche heard something splashing around in the water. Looking to the ocean behind him, he almost could have sworn that he saw the head of a little girl peeking at him from the inky black waves.

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“Is this culture shock or is this Raiko guy just delusional?” The angered giant’s words had little effect on the smaller samurai. Maybe in another life, Skoll would have admired the small mans overly high opinion of himself. But based on the last couple of minutes, Skoll had already decided that he despised the fraudulent swordsman.

To make matters even worse, Doji had decided to go along with this charade. Remaining silent for a time, Skoll stewed in displeasure. The only thing that kept Skoll from stomping out the Wano-native's ambitions right then and there was the mention of a castle fit for giants.

As the trio left the plaza. Skoll echoed the blind oni’s opinion, “I’m interested in seeing this castle and its guardian as well. I don’t know how to get to that island and my ship is all but destroyed anyway.” The rockstar scowled in annoyance, “It seems we have no choice but to play along for now…”

Stealing a final glance at the execution platform, Skoll shook his head, “Better start praying to Lady Luck early Captain Raiko, no storm will be able to save your skin next time.”

---

A Short While Later…

Captain Ben Pease of the Mustache Pirates groaned in a mix of pain, rage, and confusion. Stirring to his feet. The bruised and bloodied pirate realized that the out-of-towners had already left for Castle Island.

The captain inspected himself, “At least I managed to go back to normal before that brute swatted me into the road…” It was impossible to tell by looking at him, but Ben’s worst injury was not physical at all. Though the loss of his beautiful stache hurt, the fact that the giant hadn’t even finished his apology irritated the pirate like nothing before.

Hobbling back to the shipyard, Captain Pease yanked a transponder snail out of his disheveled coat, “Bring the Treasure Stache to the Shipyard. We’re going to have a little chat with Steve and Poe.”

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Part II - Peer Into The Abyss

[info]Archived upon request.[/info]