Disclaimer: One Piece is the property of Eiichiro Oda. Many of the characters in this story are property of me. Do not use this story or its characters without my permission. Thank you.
The crew of the Buster Pirates had successfully set up a proper camp. Birdman, the lookout, kept continuous watch out for signs of Rez and Zan in the adjacent swamps while the rest of the crew continued moving as quickly as possible. Using materials from inside their massive ship, a small camp of wooden shacks and tents had been instantly erected in the river delta. Bridges were hastily nailed together by the experienced carpenters, shacks were speedily built by the strong hands, food was hunted and retrieved by the fighting cooks; and all the while Araly sat and organized. Her speed and efficiency in commanding was unprecedented, and the main reason for the pirates phenomenal speed in setting up camp.
"Ms. Captain, ma'am!" one of the crewman called. "Where should this wood go?"
"On the dry pile" Araly answered. The pirates hulked the wood to the pile of wood so neatly organized and stacked up on a hill away from the sloshing swamp waters.
"How should the meat be cooked?" Marco shouted form the barbecue pit.
"You're the cook" Araly said. "You should know that."
"Yes ma'am" Marco shouted back.
"Mrs. Samekawa!" one of the burly pirates shouted. He ran at her with Max perched on his arm. "Where should we put Max?"
"Out of the way, I suppose" Araly said.
"What about the guys?" another pirates asked between hammering a wooden stake into place.
"They'll be fine" Araly said. She continued to madly scribble in an unintelligible shorthand all the findings and oddities on the island. Giant bears with bacon-flavored meat, a central plateau on which seemed to be a governing castle that waved a World Government flag. So far, the pirates had no contact with any islanders, if there indeed where any, and there had been no sign of the proper captain. Araly kept everything in a careful log that spanned across a few books and scrolls. She had to wipe the sweat from her brow to keep from smudging the ink occasionally.
"Need any help, madam captain?" one of the pirates asked nicely. Araly shook her head, to in the zone to be bothered with speaking. The pirate shrugged an went away. Araly kept working until someone carefully set a glass of water on her cluttered table.
"You work really hard" Marco said. "Maybe you should take a break for now."
"Well..." Araly said thoughtfully, taking the water and chugging it. "No" she sternly answered. "My place in the crew is as a documenter. I have to record all of our findings from start to finish on every island we go to so we can at least have a shred of knowledge as we go along."
"Whoever gave you that title?" Marco asked.
"I did!" Araly shouted at him. "Besides, this is all I can do as a pirate, anyway. I can't fight or sail or even stand on a ship without getting horrible sick...the only thing I can do is stand on dry land and take everything in..." A wet spot appeared on a blank section of her papers. Araly was tearing up slightly, and Marco took it upon himself to try and cheer her up.
"Well do your best then" Marco said. "We'll all be counting on you to tell us everything we need to know on this island. On top of that, we'll need you to relate it all to Bard once we find him." Araly cracked a short smile and went straight back to her papers under the cover of her windless tent. "I'll bring you some meat once its ready, okay?"
"Okay" Araly replied shyly. She wiped away the moisture on her face and continued scrawling away.
"Okay" Rez said triumphantly. He raised up his arm and gave a victorious thumb up to the nothingness before him. "We're screwed!"
"Then why celebrate!?" Zan asked. "You sure this thing'll hold?" Zan said, lazily inspecting his wrist.
"It damn well better" Rez huffed, tugging his arm and pulling Zan froward. They had tied themselves together with Rez's bandanna by the wrists, now that the woods were beginning to get annoyingly dark and their vision was progressively becoming a moot factor.
"I'm fairly certain that someone's watching us right now" Zan said.
"Yeah" Rez agreed. "I have that weird uneasiness in my gut. I can't hear much though. The water's too loud for a swamp."
"It's obviously not a normal swamp" Zan pointed out. "Anyway, let's move forward. Talking about the weirdness you find on a Grand Line island just wastes energy. Get ready to attack something if need be."
"Sure thing" Rez said. He unsheathed and armed his duel gunblade pistols, keeping them at head level. They advanced slowly, keeping in step with each other all the way. The walkway was becoming very slowly moist with salty water. Zan started feeling his body wavering in the presence of oceanic water, but he held strong. At the very worst case, he could hop on Rez's back and trick him into running forward to get him off.
Suddenly, there was a feint whooshing above them. "They're here" Zan noted. Rez perked his ears up and closed his eyes. He could hear and acknowledge the stalker much better now. His senses as a duelist picked up and he could feel them jumping from tree to tree. He could hear the low hum of something electronic on them and the soft clatter of weapons in holsters. They sounded wrapped in loose cloth that had a dampness to it, signs of prolonged exposure to the swampy air.
"Three of 'em" Rez whispered.
"Great" Zan replied. "Can you hit them?"
"Sure I can" Rez said "but what good would it do? They aren't trying to kill us."
"...good point" Zan said. "They're just taunting us to get us deeper into the swamp."
"Why?" Rez asked.
"...an ambush?" Zan said, not exactly sure. There was a very feint whispering among the voices as they stopped moving. Then, they started running away. "Are they gone?" Zan asked. Rez moved forward, bringing Zan with him. Three loud bangs and muzzle flashes came from deeper in the thick woods. The three mysterious people each fired a gun at the two men, missing each time but coming rather close. Zan had used his power just in case, and became detached from Rez as a result.
"Come on!" Rez shouted. He started forward, tackling and bounding from tree to tree through the swamp. Using his instincts, Zan began in what he assumed was the same direction, but he soon wavered from the path that Rez ran. They both continued on until they could each see a dim light in the distance. With that as a goal, they went forward, Zan through the trees and Rez jumping from them.
They both landed in a clearing with a bonfire and a multitude of moisture-dripping weapons at their vital spots. A deep voice gave a yawn from the darker, shaded side of the pitch-black swamp. There was no sky, the smoke from the fire creating a black cloud that further darkened the surrounding swamp. Rez and Zan had entered on the approximate East and South sides of the clearing and stared at each other with mutual loathing.
"You fail" Zan said, dragging from his nearly extinguished cigarette. Rez clenched his lower lip and ragingly furrowed his brow to express his anger.
"Sire!" a young man reported to an armored soldier. Upon the plateau of the island were all the rich, noble houses that held soldiers and royal men of the like near to the castle that waved the World's flag. The soldier turned around with a scowling mouth full of meat.
"Who dares bother me!?" he shouted to the young scout.
"I do apologize" the scout said, "but I have a most troubling report! There is an outlander, a pirate, who has challenged the guard!"
"WHAT!?" the soldier yelled with outrage. The scout quivered under the weight of his voice.
"The militia" he continued, "has surrounded him and awaits word from the Paladins. Please captain, the Argent Fist is needed!" The soldier captain in gold and glorious white steel armor sighed.
"Very well" he said. "Tell the soldiers to stand firm and keep the pirate knave from moving. I will hence with my men to the battlefield after a quick visit to the alter."
"Thank ye, kind Captain Dom" the scout said, bowing his way out the door. The hefty man gave a hefty sigh and started loudly stomping towards the metallic hall where these 'Paladins', warriors of light and righteousness, stayed. Just before reaching the entrance, he took a few suspicious gazes behind him. Storm clouds were moving in from the far north, a sure sign of rain coming. The streets of the royal district were barren, and so the captain made a quick brake for the rear of the barracks. In the back, nestled carefully in the woods, was a hidden cave from which and eerie glow came.
"Witch!" the captain shouted. "Show thyself. I require thy magics to produce arms of Heaven! A scourge has come upon us once more."
"You don't have to shout!!!" a raggedy old woman's voice yelled from within the cave. "Just what kind of magic do you need, anyway?"
"All kinds" the captain said back. "Whatever you can scribe, I shall take openly."
"Fine" the old woman shouted back. Deep within the cavern, the warty old hag who dressed in noble-looking rags had a wall full of symbols and interpretations. She took a flask of ink and a pen, then ripped down a small strip of paper from a massive roll of nearly infinite sheets. With the red ink, she wrote down one of the inscriptions on the wall of runes. The symbol glowed brightly like fire, then settled into a plain black.
"Hmph" the old woman huffed quietly. "Magic nothing. These backwards weirdos just can't grasp simple concepts like explosives or electric ink! I can't believe the World Government even associates with these costumed freaks..." Obviously, this woman was not one from the island she occupied. Having a secretive hovel among the most prominent part of the country, she was a great asset of military force, providing the so claimed 'Argent Fist', soldiers who use magic in the name of their great king, with the necessary magical slips of exploding paper by request.
"Here's your stinking magic!" the woman growled, tossing out a bundle of sheets at the nervous captain. He caught them all and tucked them away carefully so no one would see, then he proceeded without a word through to the back of the barracks. "YOU'RE WELCOME!" the hag screamed.
"My my" said a regal girls voice. "It seems the clouds are moving in..."
"Shall I close the windows for you, milady?" an older woman asked.
"No" the girl said. "I want the rain in here."
"But, milady" the older woman started again.
"No!" the girl shouted. "Please, leave me." The woman bowed her way out of the room, huge and lavish, and shut the door promptly. The girl watched the sky with a forlorn gaze, then turned her head down and observed the swamps. She sat at the highest tower of the castle stronghold. She observed with a longing gaze from her flat, red eyes the smoky cloud of black that loomed over the swamplands where the so called 'demons' lived.
"What are you up to now?" she said to the wind as it blew through her snow-white hair and across her pale skin, "Mr. Heretic?" Something strange was stirring on the island of curious times. What part would the Buster Pirates play? As the storm moves in ever closer, so do the answers...
