This is the journal of the most rich and gruesome pirate ever alive in this world, who has claimed both fame and infamy across all the seas. Today I commence the act of piracy and shall not be stopped me until I find and claim the ultimate treasure left behind by The Pirate King Gold Roger himself, One Piece!
Friday, 21 September 1520; Pointwood, Daru Island, North Blue
I have always dreamed of sailing all the seas. I like the wind. I like the water splashing in my face. The vast openness of the sea invites many to its glory. But seas are a treacherous thing. In this world normal people can't even grasp near the idea of how terrible it is out there. I, as many other, have heard the stories. But I have never experienced the true terror quite myself. Nonetheless I know that I shall overcome any obstacle thrown at me, because if I want to make it in this world, I shall not be lead or told what to do, the ship that I sail is the will of freedom itself and no one other than me shall command it. No thing, be it men, creature or nature, shall stand between me and my desires. I shall fight the monsters of this world and if needed the world beyond to [get to my target]. May God be merciful on those who dare to stand in my way and let the spirit of freedom guide those who suffer at my hand. I shall not be undone!
"And thus I have written my first journal entry. I am not quite satisfied about that last sentence, though" he thought. But who is he? It is the first person in the story, our protagonist. He is courageous. He likes adventure and music. He is loving, thus merciful. His name is Oliver Mountain. A 23-year-old[, or actually young,] man ready to set sail and conquer the world. We shall see how far he makes it, but first, what does our hero looks like? He always has a frisky appearance, an heartened aura. Has a strong, stern face, but his dark blue eyes always reveal his playful side. He mostly has a soothing expression. But the most remarkable feature that this man possesses, is his hair. He has unfathomable rich colour is his hair and is strangely unacquainted for the look it gives him. It is this long, red hair which, waves of his light coloured head, that, gives him the nickname 'Red Mountain'. Although he has not an unmuscular body, his appearance doesn't quite grasp the concept of a mountain[, if I say so myself]. It is, contrary to popular belief, his last name that gives him this epithet. He is, to be precisely, 1,86 meters tall and has a strong upper body. His shoulders are broad and he is overall quite toned. This mostly comes from the extensive training he has been doing for years now. But so far for his appearance, let us see what he will do next.
"I think I will amend that last little sentence later. I have more important thing to do now" Olivier told himself quietly. He put down the pen he got from his older brother, Jacob, before he left the house to become a Marine. As he closed his newly bought, and still quite empty, journal he thought if this was to right approach to start a journal. After all, he wasn't sure what people will think of him when he makes a name for himself. But he puts those thoughts beside him for the moment. He had carefully, [maybe even] expertly, chosen his equipment for the journey. His entire attire was quite big and not too light neither. But he had trained with it, he maintained his speed and agility with this outfit. He had chosen for a long blue coat, almost a typical pirate one. There were yellow accents across the entire garment. The buttons, the collar and two stripes along the sleeves were all bright yellow. He has a brown bandana hanging from his neck, which he could put on to keep his hair out of his face. He had some rugged and slightly tight leather trousers, some cuffed leather boots, and his trusty dark leather gloves, which he wore almost always. These were the things most comfortable and above all compatible with his combat gear. He was an archer. The bow was his weapon and he wore it proudly. He had custom made a thick leather shoulder pad for his left shoulder. This was attached to a leather strap which went diagonally across his chest and back. On the front he had mounted a small pouch, so far empty. On his back he had a quiver installed. He strapped his bow over his torso, picked up the pen, hid it in his inner pocket. And thus he was ready. Truly ready. All those years of preparation would have to show themselves. Let's go!
As he stepped out of his room the smell of freshly baked pancakes immediately got his attention. As he walked down the stairs he said: "Helene, you are the best mother that I have!"
"You know that is not really a compliment, do you? Since I am the only mother that you have." Oliver had a big grin on his face when he walked into the kitchen.
"You didn't had to do this, mother. I have a own cook in my crew, you know that."
"At least let me have the pleasure to cook my son his last meal at home. I know your cook is probably better than me, but I doubt she can cook with the same love for you as I can." Helene stated while Oliver gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"And once again that is true. I shall miss your cooking, but don't worry. I will get food from the best." Oliver said while trying to steal some food.
Helene sighed lightly. "I know, darling, I know. And do not think you can steal from your mother." She quickly slapped Oliver's hand away.