[World Event] A Fool's Errand

Chapter 7

Nesbit was taken aback when the platinum-blond stranger (rightly) accused him of weaving lies, but he did not let it show. He seemed as composed as one could in a puffy suit dappled with dust and splinters.

[npc=pirt]"Hyde Garland, you say? I believe that rings familiar."[/npc] The name had stood out to him in one of Billy Audi's intelligence reports. [npc=pirt]"I have heard of your singular talents in the art of forgery. A gift from the devil, was it?"[/npc]

Nesbit would have highly valued an employee with his powers. But, judging by his first impression, Hyde didn't seem the sort of man who would make a convenient pawn; at least not until he remembered another pertinent detail from the same report.

[npc=pirt]"I recall some uproar a few months ago invoking your name with the Amoratis of Baterilla. Though I might have sworn it was resolved by your demise following your benefactor's beheading."[/npc] Nesbit's remark came with an air of assertive dominance.

[npc=pirt]"No matter, I'm sure you've outgrown the dons of Baterilla by now, considering the present circumstances."[/npc] He conjured a shrewd smile and continued, [npc=pirt]"I'll gladly accept your assistance in surviving my current ordeal if you'll allow me to return the favour by helping you continue to avoid the mafia hounds thirsting for your blood, Mr. Garland."[/npc] Nesbit made no attempts to mask the blackmail. After all, the conniving trespasser had earned such threats for his transgressions.

Regardless of Hyde's cooperation, however, Nesbit's life was to be in peril once again. When he exited the office he had crashed into, two more intruders dropped in through the skylight. They wore neat black robes that covered their frames and masks that obscured their faces—one a silver fox with red curls, another an orange tiger with colourful stripes.

Nesbit froze.

[npc=pirt]"CP9..."[/npc] He said, devoid of his distinctive boldness.

[npc=cpol]"You know who we are, then you must know why we're here,"[/npc] said the tiger with a man's voice.

After a moment of wordless despair, Nesbit responded with unsteady confidence. [npc=pirt]"Your appearance here certainly explains the callous act of terror in Briss. We expected your chief to be affronted by our affair with the NRA, but I did not expect him to learn of it so soon."[/npc] New and old puzzle pieces slowly formed together in Nesbit's mind, revealing a precarious possible image—one of betrayal by the man to whom he was beholden.

Nearly two months ago...

A hidden lab in the Patch Mountains...

Nesbit's belly jiggled off every rung of the ladder as he descended a dark tunnel with what grace he could muster. An intimidating red-haired grump followed.

They stepped through steel doors into a pristine lab manned only by a lonesome one-eyed scientist.

[npc=scbk]"Nesbit, Rubill, how did it go?"[/npc] Asked the one-eyed man with a grey mop of hair.

[npc=pirt]"Mr. Silver was as commanding as you would expect. He has an imperious bearing to him. It was no hardship convincing the Jollies he was our elusive patron all along,"[/npc] Nesbit said with his chest puffed like a grouse.

[npc=scbk]"Looks like brown noses are common in this business,"[/npc] Rubill remarked, his dry lips beset by a noxious scowl.

[npc=scbk]"It's only brown-nosing if he doesn't mean it,"[/npc] said the scientist.

[npc=scbk]"Whatever. You still haven't told me what your end goal is here. You've gotten into bed with Loha, CP9, and the NRA. I doubt you'll be able to juggle them all forever, Galinstan. As soon as one of them finds out you're dealing with the others, the whole thing's gonna go tits up,"[/npc] Rubill warned.

[npc=scbk]"CP9 already knows about Loha,"[/npc] Galinstan said with a cheeky smirk.

[npc=scbk]"What?"[/npc] Rubill's brow lifted halfway up his forehead, wrinkling his long scar.

[npc=scbk]"It's how we got into bed with Cipher Pol No. 9. When they discovered my connections with Loha, they threatened to expose me unless I offered them some bargains."[/npc]

Rubill grunted with a faint, resigned smile—an expression he wielded only once in a blue moon. [npc=scbk]"Let me guess, it's what you wanted all along. With those terms in place, exposing you would also mean admitting their own shady extortion."[/npc]

Galinstan's smirk grew sharper. Its devious nature unsettled even Nesbit.

[npc=scbk]"You make it sound so simple. It's true - they can't act against me directly, but if they find out about the NRA deal, I expect they'll seek roundabout methods of bringing me down. Luckily, I have contingencies planned for that too."[/npc]

[npc=scbk]"Like making me the scapegoat of your operation here, you duplicitous cunt?"[/npc] Rubill growled.

[npc=scbk]"You're the face of Carbuncle because I lack the gravitas you bring to the masses. People fear your name. None fear mine. After all, I had no bounty when the Navy commissioned me,"[/npc] Galinstan admitted. [npc=scbk]"The Jolly Keys are filled with roughneck pirates who respect only infamy and strength, and you bring both."[/npc]

[npc=scbk]"And what happens when CP9 finds out?"[/npc]

[npc=scbk]"Does it matter? I have many goals, but the only one you care about is the one concerning Loha. You know better than me that killing the Behemoth is as out-of-reach as the sun. We need to drain his support first."[/npc]

Galinstan fetched a neon green fruit with swirling scales covering half its skin. He placed it on a sparkling ivory countertop and continued.

[npc=scbk]"I intend to keep feeding his army with the powers they crave until they believe themselves invincible, and then I'll feed them some more until every last one of them dies a slow death from the poison within. No matter what happens here, these gears are already in motion and can't be stopped."[/npc]

Rubill thumbed the two thin points of fuzz on his chin as he pondered over the near-luminescent devil fruit.

[npc=scbk]"It's a dicey plan at best. It'll take years for your poison to do its job. But, short of throwing the entire Marine fleet and the World Government's Greatest Military Powers at him, it's the only strategy I've ever heard that has a dog's chance against that fucking fiend."[/npc] A glint ignited Rubill's fierce crimson eyes. [npc=scbk]"If it works, once his army is dead, I'll be there to tear off his head, even if it takes an army of my own."[/npc]




Captain "Meandering" Meredith Wyre thrust her rapier repeatedly, architecting jolts of wind as loud as fired bullets. They ripped through the wicked denizens of Carbuncle who guarded the prize she sought. She wiped the sweat crawling down her hazel forehead and studied the charts—smugly satisfied—validating a safe course through The Lashes.

It took her longer than it should have to regroup with her fellow captain. If anyone asked why, she would swear to the Marine seagull how enemies impeded her every step. It would take some terrible, vicious scheme to make her confess she simply got lost.

After floundering for a while, she finally spotted Okirama sending some pitiful thug flying into a rickety wooden building, drowning him in splinters.

[npc=navy]"Remind me not to get in your way when you're slapping crooks around, Oki,"[/npc] Meredith said with a nervous but familiar smile.  She handed off the charts to the Kodiak, picking a few stray bits of debris ornamenting the frizzy red ball she called hair.

[npc=navy]"I'll leave mobilizing the reinforcements to you. I'm not keen on talking to the one who'll answer the call,"[/npc] she said. [npc=navy]"I was relieved they didn't choose him to lead this mission. Kaif Ali is a boor almost as bad as Seamus Fowl. If the two of them worked together, I can't imagine how much worse off the rest of us would be,"[/npc] she added before she let her wanderlust guide her away, allowing Okirama to heed Nottingham's orders.




[npc=revo]"What the hell are you doing, Nettle? Are you seriously gonna use your damn sewing kit to fight one of the shichibukai?"[/npc] Shouted a short man with a fountain of dreadlocks. He bore a heavy metal tank on his back with a flexible hose snaking out its side. Even with the excess bulk, he just managed to evade a violent swing of the Iron Beast's tail.

[npc=revo]"Be quiet, Sumac! You don't hear me complaining about your pesticide—even if it stinks worse than a pissed off skunk. We all have our own ways of fighting,"[/npc] said a slim man with a long, pointy nose as he threw several curved needles at the enraged dinosaur's tail.

The stings barely managed to pierce the beast's sturdy green skin. Several threads stretched between Nettle and his needles. He jerked them with all his might, but a flick of the tail was all it took for the beast to break free.

They battled in a field of concrete rubble, with crooked rebars sprouting like fresh steel blooms. Several corpses fertilized the ground; most were pirates who had called Carbuncle home, but some had been NRA guests, accompanying their commanders on the investigation.

"Poison" Sumac and "Stinging" Nettle clashed against the killer beast, driven partly by a desire for vengeance, but mostly by the need for survival. Twelve NRA soldiers still lived, firing rifles from a less lethal distance to support their sergeants. The struggle was futile, for the Iron Beast was undeterred, perhaps even angrier than before.

[npc=scbk]"Out of my way, shrimps,"[/npc] he bellowed. His eyes saw nothing but red as he charged through the lot head-first. His sprint did not taper until he had made it deep into town, structures crumbling in his wake.

Silver's roars thundered through the town, chipping walls and shattering windows. The maroon stripes on his scaly green hide seemed to flutter like a banner in the wind. Specks of ugly spit flew far from between his jaws, while his serpentine tongue tasted the blood dripping from the tips of his jagged teeth.

[npc=scbk]"Nine Grain! I know you're here somewhere!"[/npc] He shouted. [npc=scbk]"I need a better meal than some shitty small fries. Come face me so I can grind you to flour and bake me some bread."[/npc]

A ferocious gust of wind sliced through the air, tearing into the theropod's flank.

[npc=radm]"I'm right here, you overgrown gecko,"[/npc] Nottingham announced, standing atop a corrugated metal rooftop a few blocks away. A pale katana gleamed in his hand, its tsuba shaped like a rounded cross pattée, and its grip red as if painted with blood. It boldly unleashed another aerial slash, sounding the death knell for the warlord's title.

The monstrous pirate spared only a brief few seconds to wince at the sharp pain in his side before turning to his adversary. [npc=scbk]"I was starting to get bored hanging around this shithole, but, the wait was worth it. I can finally have some fun,"[/npc] the Iron Beast said with a vile grin, presenting his crooked bloody fangs.

A quake stemming from the mountains rocked the earth, heralding the clash of titans.




The beats of Seamus' wings had found harmony with the rhythmic gushing of the pipes in the room. He hovered high above the NRA commanders, close to the ceiling, wary of sudden moves.

[npc=cpol]"I was listening when you spoke to the Iron Beast and his chubby associate,"[/npc] Seamus said. [npc=cpol]"I gather you were not the perpetrators of the bombing at Briss; that, in fact, you were framed by someone who used the same explosive substance that the Iron Beast sells to your army."[/npc]

Ta'al and Bracken exchanged anxious glances before the bald one responded. [npc=cmdr]"That's right. The NRA would never target civvies."[/npc]

Seamus scoffed.

[npc=cpol]"Setting aside how erroneous that statement is, let's say for a moment that I believe you regarding Briss. Who, then, do you think is responsible for the attack?"[/npc] The Cipher Pol chief asked.

[npc=cmdr]"What the fuck do ya think we're here ta find out? We figured Langhorne had been double-dealin'. If he didn't cross us himself, he's gotta have some idea who did. That fat fuck tried ta spin our heads with his glib lies. I don't care what he says, he's definitely hidin' somethin' besides just the damned Iron Beast,"[/npc] Ta'al insisted.

[npc=cpol]"Yes, I suspect the same,"[/npc] Seamus agreed. [npc=cpol]"Maybe I was a bit rash in assaulting him. My anger admittedly gets the better of me sometimes. Though I don't believe I killed him. I'll find out soon enough. First things first, of course."[/npc] Seamus flexed his pure white wings, charging an attack, but just before he launched it, the metal gate burst open across the room.

A medley of interlopers spilled in, led by a wrinkled old lady—short as a stick—and a ginger-haired boy—shorter still. When the child crudely identified Seamus' opponents, the hairless one nearly popped a nerve.

[npc=cmdr]"Who the hell are ya callin' a cue ball, ya pip-squeak?"[/npc]

The child puffed his cheeks and crossed his arms, standing as tall as he could. [npc=misc]"I'm not a pip-squeak!"[/npc] The pip squeaked. [npc=misc]"I'm Dr. Winston Bell, the Genius Machine God! I built all the contraptions in this factory!"[/npc] He declared. [npc=misc]"With granny's help, of course."[/npc] The addendum came at a lower volume.

[npc=cpol]"Is that so?"[/npc] Seamus asked. As preposterous as the claim was, the prospect intrigued him. If the boy spoke true, he and the old woman were persons of interest worth apprehending and interrogating. A single glance around the room had hinted to Seamus he had entered Carbuncle's dark underbelly. And now, someone claiming to be its engineer had marched right under his wings.

[npc=misc]"That's a fact! Mr. Langhorne himself hired us to build these machines. Oh! And he gave us permission to be in here too. We didn't break in or anything; unlike you guys."[/npc] The boy's jitters went unnoticed, for Seamus was now certain of his complicity.

He had witnessed the boy and his group greet Langhorne's at the docks. He had failed to pick up on the brusque conversation, but the interaction alone was enough for Seamus to believe him.

Seamus eyed the three young men who had barged in with the kid. Every last one of them seemed a ruffian eager to fight. A brawl in a room full of pressurized drums was a poor plan, perhaps. Luckily for him, another option presented itself.

[npc=cpol]"Ca-caw! Ca-caw!"[/npc] A conspicuous crow's cawing came from the large hole in the ceiling. Seamus smiled.

[npc=cpol]"Well then, I'll have you and your old crone tell me all about your work here, little boy,"[/npc] he said as he landed on the floor, taking the form of a tall man. His dark ponytail seemed to grow longer as his head transformed, sharp and clean-shaven, but for a patch of hair on his chin. His wedding-white suit clung tight to his charred muscular frame, while the hem of his white coat grazed the dirtied tiles on the floor.

Seamus retrieved a gas mask from within his coat and strapped it over his face. One could see his eyes squint through the transparent lenses as he delivered his order loud and clear.

[npc=cpol]"Gas!"[/npc]

Not half a second later, several canisters dropped through the ceiling hole, trailing grey-white smoke that would burn the eyes, scratch the throats, and muddle the minds of nearly anyone who dared breathe it in. Another half a second later, the canisters exploded, filling the room with the malignant gas. Ta'al and Bracken, being as close as they were to the point of origin, had no time to escape. They clutched their chests and coughed their lungs out before ultimately collapsing to the ground.

Seamus scanned through the smoke for the boy and his troop. He was a moment too late to guard against the metal staff that struck him right in the groin.

[npc=misc]"What did you do to my granny, you jerk?!"[/npc] The urchin screeched. He stood livid before the Cipher Pol chief, his voice muffled behind a gas mask. Seamus clinched his unmentionables, though the injury to his pride sank deeper than the one to his body.

[npc=cpol]"You little shit!"[/npc] He growled. His hand acted faster than his mind when it slapped the guttersnipe clean off his feet and flung him into a concrete wall. The strike accomplished what the gas failed to. The brat was unconscious before he even slunk to the floor.

Seamus' gaze then found two more survivors of the toxic ambush. Their silhouettes quivered in the haze, and their eyes shimmered red. Neither of them wore masks, which could only mean one thing. Seamus' fists clenched, and his arms started to blacken.

A tremor beneath the ground shook the building. More tremors above ground were sure to follow.




Hundreds of uniformed sailors shuffled across the decks of two warships, unfurling the sails and sounding sirens on the masts. A man with double-jointed, inhumanly long arms stood at the helm of the lead ship, shouting orders with grim fervour. He wore a standard-issue marine cap and a white coat bearing the kanji of "Justice", as was expected of commissioned officers of the Navy. He carried a long axe over his shoulder, its head broad and sharp. A trimmed black beard outlined his jaw, skirted by well-groomed stubble.

A sailor rushed up the stairs leading up to the helm to address the officer. [npc=navy]"We're on course for Sinister Eyeland, Rear Admiral."[/npc]

The Long-Arm officer took charge of the helm and replied, [npc=radm]"I've got the route from Nottingham's flunky. Signal Steps' ship to line up and synchronize with our manoeuvres."[/npc]

The sailor hurried away to execute the new orders. Not long after, the warships lumbered in a single file towards Sinister Island, its faint shadow flitting on the distant horizon even through the viscous fog.

---

Notes:

---

Chapter 7 - Part II

Nesbit reached for his notebook when cornered by the government agents. He tore a few pages on which his finger-pencil had previously scribbled some powerful words. He could not have anticipated his chaperone having a similar idea.

The hounds conjured from Garland's drawings harried CP9 just long enough for their targets to make their exit. For good measure, Nesbit crumpled a piece of paper with the word "poof" scribbled on it and threw it hard towards the assailants. A smothered puff introduced a cloud of pink smoke where the paper ball had landed, obscuring the vision of the agents briefly as they combated the mysterious ink-hounds. 

[npc=pirt]"That was a marvellous idea, Mr. Garland. Now, we must rush to the main facility in the heart of Carbuncle as swiftly as your powers can carry us,"[/npc] Nesbit said with faint terror in his eyes. [npc=pirt]"Those two undoubtedly mean to have me divulge certain secrets to the other invaders on the island and then see me murdered before I am finished exposing them all."[/npc] 

[npc=pirt]"But, they have made two dire errors in their judgment. They have underestimated my fidelity..."[/npc] He equipped an apprehensive smile. [npc=pirt]"And they did not account for you."[/npc]



Seamus swallowed a bitter groan when the blond, sharply dressed companion of the filthy brat sucked all the toxic smoke from the room. His gaze behind the gas mask's visor darted to the commanders. Fortunately for him, both the NRA soldiers had lost their faculties and were fast asleep.

He turned his attention back to the two goons. The teal-haired one had flown up to the ceiling, chased by a trail of smoke that seemed to be of his own making. When he raced back down like an angry meteor, Seamus tried to skip backwards to clear his path. 

His feet were not fast enough, so his arms had to be. When he was sure the strike would connect, the Cipher Pol chief put up his blackened arms, letting them take the brunt of the blow. The hit sent Seamus flying across the open centre of the room, but he spread his wings wide and rescued himself from a collision with a nest of bubbling cylinders.

[npc=cpol]"You're no run-of-the-mill thugs. Who the bloody hell are you?"[/npc] He asked, searching his memories for mugshots matching their faces.

---

Chapter 7 - Part III

During The Conqueror's War...

Somewhere on the Grand Line...

It had been a rainy morning. Unending showers assaulted the streets and battered the roofs of a coastal government base. Seamus was grateful to have brought his umbrella and coat. 

He removed his mud-soaked shoes in the vestibule and stowed his umbrella in a rack before stepping into a homely office. The floors were covered with straw mats, and the walls and ceilings were wreathed with small golden bells and mistletoe—as if readied for a winter holiday. There was also a pleasant minty scent lingering in the air.

[npc=cpol]"Come in."[/npc] A deep voice said when Seamus knocked on the open door of a small room. It came from a bull of a man dressed in a black suit with a red-and-white striped tie. He sported square shades and a squarer jaw. But, the true standouts in his appearance were his round, red nose and the pair of antlers sprouting out of his dark pork pie hat. 

The heavyset man stood by the only window in the room. His gaze seemed to drill past the droplets striking the glass pane, pondering the dense barrage of bad weather. He lifted a kettle from an oaken accent table and poured a shimmering green liquid into a cup.

[npc=cpol]"Tea?"[/npc] He asked, glancing at Seamus.

[npc=cpol]"If you wouldn't mind,"[/npc] Seamus replied.

The red-nosed man promptly served Seamus a cup of tea and gestured to a seat at his bureau. Seamus placed a pristine folder—documents stacked perfectly within—on the polished epoxy desk before sitting. The larger man seated himself on the opposite side in a cushioned chair. 

[npc=cpol]"So, what's the latest on the Black Fist Pirates?"[/npc] The generous host asked, blowing on the hot tea before taking a sip. The petite teacup looked like a child's toy in his enormous hands.

[npc=cpol]"They attacked G-6 this time, sir,"[/npc] Seamus said. He savoured the sweet aroma of the peppermint tea and continued. [npc=cpol]"It appears they're still hunting for the location of the She-Devil of the Sea."[/npc]

[npc=cpol]"Wasn't Warp visiting G-6?"[/npc]
[npc=cpol]"You're correct, sir. There was a brawl between Black Fist and Vice Admiral Warp, but the Black Fist Pirates escaped soon after."[/npc]
[npc=cpol]"They've started calling him 'The Conqueror', you know?"[/npc]

A loud rumbling of the clouds underscored the title, as if the heavens spoke with intent. 

[npc=cpol]"I've heard."[/npc]
[npc=cpol]"Small wonder, I suppose. He's already made ruins of nine bases."[/npc]
[npc=cpol]"G-6 makes ten. The battle annihilated the place. Though, the Vice Admiral played more than a small part in the chaos."[/npc]

The large man's bulbous red nose inflated to near twice its size. The snort that followed ruffled the thick hairs of his bushy, greying moustache.

[npc=cpol]"Doesn't surprise me,"[/npc] he said. [npc=cpol]"Those who can go toe-to-toe with the Black Fist Pirates are often woefully ill-equipped to minimize collateral damage. It's one of the reasons why they've had all hands on deck with this investigation. Bigby and the rest of his CP0 thugs alone couldn't manage to keep tabs on the madmen on both sides."[/npc]

[npc=cpol]"I'm grateful for the challenge, Mr. Finch,"[/npc] Seamus noted with an ever-so-subtle grin.

[npc=cpol]"Ho-ho-ho! Not everyone's as keen to rise through the ranks as you, Fowl,"[/npc] Finch huffed. [npc=cpol]"In any case, tell me how the Black Fist Pirates escaped this time?"[/npc]

[npc=cpol]"The same way they escaped in the last two battles. Near the end, Black Fist summoned a ferocious hurricane."[/npc] 

The CP5 agent placed his emptied cup on the desk separating him and his chief. Finch offered a refill with a pouring motion, which Seamus declined with an open palm and a shake of his head. One cup was plenty.

[npc=cpol]"How do they keep managing to sail away through weather bad enough to ground the marines?"[/npc] The Cipher Pol chief asked, peering through the window at the undesired elements they were experiencing themselves.

[npc=cpol]"The credit goes to Solo Rosso Airheart, the helmsman of the Black Fist Pirates."[/npc] A second roar came down from the skies, rattling the glass window. Seamus sensed the chief shared his unease. [npc=cpol]"His piloting talents seem to far exceed even the Navy's best,"[/npc] he continued. [npc=cpol]"He's managed to sail their ship through the worst of storms with practised ease."[/npc]

[npc=cpol]"Find out what you can about him. There are big names among that crew besides The Conqueror himself. If we can deliver actionable intel to our overlords, they might even cut us some slack on our other obligations."[/npc] 

Finch rested his cup on a gold-trimmed coaster on the desk, though it was still half-full. He rose from his chair, prompting Seamus to do the same. The chief escorted his agent to the door and finally added, [npc=cpol]"And you might even get that promotion you've been hankering for."[/npc] 

Seamus smiled and took his leave.




Volo Rosso Airheart...

For a moment, Seamus was transported back to that rainy day in the office dressed in mistletoe, sipping tea with Rudolph "Red Nose" Finch. The vision faded away as swiftly as it came. 

Seamus finally realized his earlier haki-clad defence against Volo had ricocheted the ruffian into a metal-plated wall. But, the man seemed even more eager to fight. 

[npc=cpol]"I knew the Millennium Surfer had come from the South Blue, but I never realized he had a brat running around here too,"[/npc] Seamus said. His beak twisted in a stiff grimace, while his white wings flapped to keep him in the air. 

[npc=cpol]"And to think you even have his logia ability,"[/npc] he added, deftly evading the impulsive strike Volo tried to feed him. Seamus was reminded of the dossiers his team had compiled on several of the Black Fist Pirates; "Smoke-Smoke Fruit" was penned in bold ink on Solo Rosso's profile.

He had identified one of the abilities he faced, but not the other. His momentary focus on the teal-haired bundle of bluster allowed the well-dressed blond man's toxic projectiles to graze his lustrous wing. 

He quickly morphed back into his human form only to notice the skin on the back of his hand had cracked and blistered where the "rusty nails" had struck. He had laboured to cover the mutilation the Briss bombing had inflicted upon his shoulders and chest. Consequently, the latest disfigurement of his exposed skin sent him into a seething tirade.

[npc=cpol]"You disgusting lowlife! What did you just do to me?!"[/npc] He hissed, spit flying from his lips. [npc=cpol]"Do you have any idea who I am?!"[/npc] He asked, knowing his rank demanded deference from every man, woman, and child. [npc=cpol]"I'm the god-damned Chief of Cipher Pol No. 2."[/npc] 

A sharp whistle and a curt command punctuated his declaration. [npc=cpol]"HOSTAGES!"[/npc]

Without a second's delay, fifteen agents in black suits descended through the shattered roof via ropes, quiet as owls. They scattered as if guided by a hive mind, each tending to the task best suited for them. 

Agents Broad and Borrows went straight for the floored NRA commanders, binding them with sturdy iron shackles before they could shake off their delirium. Four agents surrounded the ginger urchin, his shrivelled hag, and the white-haired hoodlum who had barged in with them, pistols trained at their heads. The rest surrounded the repulsive scoundrels who challenged Seamus, pistols in hand. A smug grin illustrated the chief's delight over the clockwork precision of his team.

Once his agents were in position, Seamus transformed into a swan again. His sleeves stretched around his arms as they turned into wings, and his face sharpened until it resembled a swan's beak. The trilby on his head stayed in place, fitting snugly over his rounder head.

His metamorphosis concluded with a content wag of his feathery tail. He straightened his serpentine neck—looking up—and honked like a trumpet. Someone roared from outside as if in response. Seamus had no doubt it was the Iron Beast, wreaking havoc. Slight tremors seemed to validate his assumption.

[npc=cpol]"Surrender now, both of you, or your friends die,"[/npc] Seamus said, turning his attention back to Volo and his blond ally. His beady round eyes were camouflaged within the black stripes stemming from his beak, and yet his vicious glare was unmistakable. 



Sumac and Nettle dusted themselves off, groaning from the aches that tortured every muscle and ligament.

[npc=revo]"Holy mother of oceans... how in the world did we survive that?"[/npc] Nettle asked.

Sumac shrugged as he inspected his gas tank for leaks and dents. [npc=revo]"Your needle stings must've run him off,"[/npc] he said, sneering like a monkey that believed itself clever.

[npc=revo]"Kindly shut up,"[/npc] Nettle replied.

The two NRA sergeants regrouped with the soldiers who had supported them during the bloody skirmish against the Iron Beast. There were fourteen survivors altogether, with three times as many broken bones between them. But, they plodded through the wrecks born of Silver's rampage.

Once they had a moment to catch their breaths and reset dislocated joints, Nettle retrieved a mini transponder snail. Its wavy mouth seemed to quiver as its droopy eyes came to life slowly.

[npc=revo]"Kathy!"[/npc] Nettle said, relieved to hear a friendly—though barely familiar—voice upon placing his call for help. He asked for an update on their current status and location, and was pleasantly shocked by the response. A beam of hopeful sunshine seemed to cast itself on the sergeant as he reported on their condition and submitted his request for assistance.

[npc=revo]"Listen carefully. Things have gone completely awry here. We were attacked by the Iron Beast - yes, the Iron Beast is here. Oh, you already know? Why didn't you tell us, dammit?! It's fine, never mind. Look, we don't know why, but we saw him send Gotli and Mancie flying into town. Don't worry, I'm sure they're okay. We just need to go find them. But, we'll need a way to get off this island.

If you can get your ship close to the southwestern edge of town—near tall cliffs with some brick buildings built high into them—I think you'll be able to avoid whatever hell's broken loose at the docks. You may still meet some resistance, but we'll try to clean up as much of it as we can before you land. Once you're here, we'll pick up the commanders and get out together."[/npc]

Nettle ended the call optimistic, for if their would-be rescuers came through, they might just all live to see the next day.



Nesbit watched intently as his grey-haired chaperone sketched a large reptile on the wall. His eye nearly popped out from behind his monocle when the lizard came to life. Earlier, when the man had summoned hounds, Nesbit had failed to observe the process. Seeing it in action more closely, he was more than a little impressed.

[npc=pirt]"I must admit, I had heard of your ability, but witnessing it within arm's reach has me convinced: no report could have done it justice."[/npc]

Nesbit hurried onto the lizard, sitting behind Mr. Garland, clinging to the living art for dear life as it scaled the sheer cliff. [npc=pirt]"It will serve you no purpose if I fall to my death, you know?"[/npc] His back nearly touched the lizard's tail as he tried to keep himself straight as they descended.

His astute three eyes tracked the Iron Beast's trail of destruction leading into the city of Carbuncle. In the distance, he could see the red-and-green two-storey-tall dinosaur roaring and rioting. Nesbit's instincts suggested Carbuncle was finished. His intuition agreed.

When his improvised bodyguard asked after the significance of the main facility, Nesbit smiled.

[npc=pirt]"You are only an ally of circumstance, Mr. Garland. With as much overlap in our business and abilities as there might be, I cannot give away the specifics of our operations."[/npc] He shuffled in his uncomfortable seat to balance himself again before continuing. [npc=pirt]"However, if you manage to keep me alive through the day, I may be inclined to compensate you appropriately, whether it be through information or currency."[/npc]

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