An Unfinished Ship [double & Platon]

[PlatonSkull]

When you really think about it, Vikings and cowboys don't have a lot in common. They are, respectively, from a cold and warm climate travelling across the sea or through prairies. They do both have a history of violent behaviour, but they are radically different kinds and are justified in radically different ways.
So Cyrus Odin arriving at Stetson Island in his small boat with a Viking-themed Jolly Roger felt quite out-of-place to the local population.

Not that the local population took much notice, since Odin arrived at a newly constructed port just a bit outside the capital city (and only city on the island), Stetson City, where very few people lived.
It had taken Odin a while to find a place to dock while circling the island, due to him mostly encountering ruins or ghost towns that were once prosperous cities of the island. He looked forward to discovering exactly what had happened on this island resulting in more than half of it becoming uninhabited.

The young and aspiring pirate owned the second ship that rested at the new harbour. The first one was nearly as freshly constructed as the harbour itself: a merchant ship of impressing size, built from scratch and almost finished by the small capital's shipwrights.
The ship had been a risky project for the town, since it didn't have many resources to spend, but the people hoped for it to be the best way to return the island to its former glory - it was not very long ago that a rival island had overtaken their position as most popular arms-dealer, resulting in a business crash on the island as it lost its most profitable source of income.
Now, with this new merchant ship, they would rise from the dust to be a part of the global economy again.

Odin got off his small boat, his pet raven Hummings flying off to look around the island. The leather boots, cowboy hats and jeans that the people wore was a completely new sight to him, and he was already curious about what this place was up to.

He entered the only bar in the vicinity. It was empty, not very big, and quite worn out despite it being newly built.
I guess people just like drinking around here, thought Odin, which incidentally was one of the few things Vikings and cowboys had in common.
He sat down at one of the many unoccupied seats at the counter.
"Good day to you," said the bartender, and older fellow with moustache, glasses, hat and everything, "been a while since I last got outsider costumers"
"A beer, please. This island isn't very popular, is it?" Odin asked bluntly.
"Not since Pecos Town caused the weapon's crash, no," said the bartender, pouring him a glass, "the island's barely surviving on agriculture and bounty huntin'. Might wanna leave soon before they see the flag o' yours," he pointed out the window, which had a great view of the harbour.
Odin knew that he had as much reason to fear from the bounty hunters as he had to fear from the farmers. He was aware, however, that he might get a bounty on his head in the future.
So the industry of the island had been crippled by another island?
"So what's with the ship?" asked Odin as he received his beer.
"That's 'Hope' " he answered, "the few shipwrights from around here have been working on her, and they're nearly finished. Merchant ship, you see."
"I thought ships had to have girl's names?"
"Hope is a girl's name," explained the bartender, "and very fitting"
"True," said Odin and drank.

---

"So how's it look?" the boss asked.
"Well," said one of the scouts, "I s'pose it looks good enuff"
"Yeah," added the other scout, "got masts and all, seems fine"
"So you're sure we should do it now?"
"If you think so, boss,"
"Well," said Bob Donnathan a.k.a. "Don Cigarette", "let's just get this over with,"

[Deleted]

"Boom!" Argo Hiro shouted for what seemed like the thousandth time since the storm had started. Silver-Mane had been knocked off their tiny ship often enough to know what that word meant, and with a yelp, he hit the deck next to Hiro, just fast enough to avoid the swinging mast.

It had been many days since they set out from their homeland, and they had yet to spot land. With almost no food remaining, the boy had begun to get desperate, realizing he was drastically unprepared for an extended voyage.

Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or did he really see land past the deluge from the heavens? There was no mistaking it, even though the air was as thick with water as the sea. "Land Ho!" Hiro's shout was joined by Silver-Mane's howl.

A strong gust of wind shook the tiny ship to it's base. All remnants of his former despair gone with the wind, Hiro grabbed the line and pulled it tight with one hand, steering the rudder towards land with the other. Almost to the island, Hiro began to laugh victoriously. However, his celebration was premature.

With one final heave, the storm managed to capsize the tiny boat, and Hiro and Silver-Mane were forced to swim to shore, boat in tow.

When they reached the island, Hiro just tied up the boat, not bothering to flip it right-side-up. Dripping water, the solemn pair trod down the rainy street, walking into the first place they saw with smoke coming out of the chimney.

Luckily, that place was a bar. The two walked on in like they owned the place and curled up next to the fire, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Hiro took note of the only other people in the bar, a man in a bar stool with a beer sitting in front of him, and the barkeep.

"Can I get you anything?" the barkeep asked, warily eying Silver-Mane. "If you had a dry cloth that I could borrow, I would be most obliged, sir" Hiro spoke not much louder than a croak because of the quantity of salt water he had consumed in his recent plight.

With a nod, the barkeep tossed a blood-stained cloth at Hiro, who promptly began drying his brace of knives, which he produced so suddenly that the barkeep made a sound of surprise, which he masterfully covered with a cough.

After drying his knives, Hiro inspected his bow, which through a combination of an antler case and sheer luck, was unharmed. Unfortunately his arrows were a different story, only five left in usable condition.

Tossing the rag back to the barkeep, Hiro lay his head on Silver-Mane's chest, trusting the wolf to watch out for danger as he let sleep overcome him.

[PlatonSkull]

A new costumer had arrived, so the bartender went to take care of him.
A boy in his teens, very weathered looking and accompanied by an interesting specimen of wolf.
The barkeep returned to Odin, who had chugged his beer in the meantime, "poor kid came in from the east," he explained, "it's common knowledge 'round here that the sea east of here's a tricky kind. Climate stuff, you know?"
"So you'll need a robust merchant ship I take it?"
"Truth be told, that's not my field o' expertise," the bartender answered, pouring Odin another glass.
"Yeah, not mine either," said Odin, making a mental note of acquiring a navigator sooner or later, "so there are lots of bounty hunters here?"
"Indeed. Nowadays strong bounty hunters are very profitable. The marines are putting higher bounties on everything that moves the wrong direction. It really helps them cut down the enemy's numbers, you know?"
"Yeah, I get it," said Odin. He had always seen this black-and-white picture of the world as propaganda - there might be pirates out there that need to be put away, but there were probably bad marines too. And putting everything with a Jolly Roger in the same category was probably highly inefficient. Odin could definitely do without the trouble of avoiding marines all the time, "I've heard bounties are used as a measure of strength these days. The government must have a lot of cash to spare,"
"I guess so," the barkeep replied, looking out the window wondering if any more odd costumers would appear. This pub was never the great magnet for costumers, but suddenly they were turning up one after another, "I've never really thought too much about the government's resources. As long as we're safe enough to live our lives, I don't see the problem."
"Yeah, I might be a pirate, but governments aren't that bad," Odin raised his glass, "To law-enforcement!" he said with a grin, and so he drank.

---

The Gang had mobilized at the outskirts of the forest. They eyed the merchant ship standing between a flipped-over wreck and a small boat with an odd Jolly Roger.
"Ya sure dis is a good idea, boss?" asked one of the men with an uncertain look.
"Sure! The bounty hunters are all busy elsewhere, and we'll be out of here in no time!", he answered, lighting a new cigarette now that there wasn't danger of starting a forest fire. Don Cigarette was a chain-smoker and not the most moral of creatures, but he had enough common sense not to burn an island by accident. This was a virtue the rest of the gang lacked, making him an ideal leader.
Soon they would be out of that hell hole.

---

"Hey puppy-kid, are you awake?"
After a glass or two extra, Odin wanted to at least get to know this interesting character before moving on to explore the island. It's certainly not every day you meet a teenager with a ferocious silver-haired wolf as a pet. He sat down on the floor beside the guy.
"You're a long way from home, aren't you? I'm a curious guy, what's your story?"

[Deleted]

There is a pact between a wolf and it’s master, a pact whose bonds are stronger than death. A wolf would do anything to protect it’s master, and in return, the master would do anything to protect the wolf. The relationship is one of mutual trust, both willing to throw their lives away for the well-being of the other. If it was any other way, there could be no relationship.

This fact kept Silver-Mane’s eyes open while his master drifted off to sleep, Silver-Mane would have his chance at rest soon enough. When a silver-haired human approached, a light vibration of Silver-Mane’s ribs woke Argo Hiro, though he didn’t open his eyes, the sounds of breathing and footsteps alerted him to the situation. Hiro assumed since the bartender was still behind the bar (cleaning glass, based on the squeaking), the man approaching was the man sitting at the bar dressed in brown and black with an unusual strip of cloth around his head.

Prepared for the worst, Hiro’s grip tightened on his knife which he was already holding and tensed his muscles for immediate and sudden action. But when the man vocalized a question as to him being awake and the sound of his breathing shifted considerably closer to the ground, Hiro began to feel the danger pass.

Upon the man’s last question, Hiro felt a tickle of amusement. “A long way from home? Heh, you could say that. But I don’t have much of a story, my hometown was attacked by pirates, the Flame-Haired pirates if you care for detail, and they took most of my family. I saved up enough money for a tiny ship and set sail. We’ve been sailing around for a couple weeks now, me and Silver-Mane,” Hiro gestures over his shoulder at Silver-Mane, “I’m Argo Hiro by the way, a pleasure to meet you.”

Hiro opens his eyes and extends his hand for a shake. “Now if you don’t mind an honest question, what’s your story, that eye patch is intriguing.”

[PlatonSkull]

The kid had been through a lot, it seemed, and he was ready to go through more. Odin hadn't experienced loss of any kind. He felt privileged of course, but it meant he couldn't relate to the boy's situation. His immediate thought was that setting sail without thinking it over was a stupid reaction, but why should he judge?
The boy was polite enough for a handshake, but blunt enough to tell the truth straightforwardly.

Odin took his hand, "Name's Cyrus Odin. I lost my eye a long time ago to keep a friend. Nothing special really, she had to stay back home while I went to see the world. This is the first island I arrived at."
This boy, Argo, seemed just a bit narrow-minded. While his anger and decisiveness was justified, Odin couldn't help but think of the word revenge, which was never the right option, especially if you're one man against an entire pirate crew.
Still, the kid had his charm. A weird, smelly kind of charm, but charm nonetheless.

The sound of glass breaking alerted Odin - the bartender had dropped the glass he was cleaning. He was looking out of the window with a shocked expression. Odin followed his gaze and realized what was wrong. The ship was moving.

---

"C'mon guys, we don't wanna get caught!" shouted one of the men, as the gang ran around the ship, fiddling with ropes in an attempt to get it to move faster.
"Da hell's wrong with this thing!?"
The scouts hadn't done their job too well. The sails weren't functional. Don Cigarette was very unsatisfied, and the whole gang knew what that meant: someone was in for a beating.

---

How very symbolic that a ship named "Hope" would be stolen by a group of bad apples. And how very stupid of them to take it before it was finished.
"Who the hell would do such a thing!?" said the barkeep. He had run out to the docks followed by Cyrus Odin.
"It's headed right for the storm," observed Odin. The ship was slow, but if it didn't turn around it would just keep going, and eventually end up with unstable water and clouds as grey as ash.
"Oh my dear lord," the bartender said, "there aren't any bounty hunters near here,"
Odin looked towards the ship, "how many people are on it?"
"Not many," he replied, "I think it's Don Cigarette's gang. More like bullies than bandits, that's for sure,"
Odin was already at his boat, "Hey puppy-boy!" he shouted to Argo, as he found his extra pair of oars, "I'll need another pair of hands to catch up with them!"
And a blood-thirsty wolf probably wouldn't hurt. Odin couldn't help but smile just a little bit. It was time to kick some ass...

[Deleted]

Broken glass is never a fun thing to deal with. If you're surprised, why do you have to go and drop things? It would be perfectly fine if the barkeep had simply put down the glass he was cleaning and said something like “Oh, My God,” or whatever deity the man happened to worship, but no. He had to go and drop the glass. Hiro didn't like wastefulness because of his meager upbringing, so he was, at first, slightly annoyed at the barkeep, he had wasted a perfectly good glass, somebody is going to have to clean it up, etc.

But when he followed his gaze, all thoughts of dropping glasses left Hiro's mind. Some moron had decided to steal the big ship next to his. The ship wasn't even finished! They must be pretty dense because they decided to steal it in broad daylight, and were taking it directly into the storm that had so recently capsized Hiro's boat.

That dude with the eye patch was already running to the boat, calling for Hiro to come paddle with him. Hiro didn't see why they had to stop the idiots sailing away, they were doomed to die soon anyway, no doubt the masts would give out due to the storm and they would be stuck in the middle of the ocean until somebody from the island decided to sail out and tow back the boat.

Hiro shrugged, it would be fun to kill some fools, and he needed to develop his combat skills. Signaling Silver-Mane to follow, Hiro walks to Odin’s ship. As he gets on board and the motley group begins rowing away, the distressed bartender runs to the door frame, gripping the sides until his hands were white and shouting after them, “Please strangers, do whatever you must to get the boat back, but please, don’t damage the ship, it's the town's only Hope.”

Hiro saluted the ashen-faced barkeep with a fist over his heart, and with that, sat down and began rowing at full power, knowing that he couldn't keep his promise if they reached the boat after it hit the storm. And one thing Argo Hiro wasn't in the habit of was breaking promises.

[PlatonSkull]

"It's a merchant ship," explained Odin as they rowed as fast as they could, "the economy of the island isn't going well, and that ship is their last resort."
The ship was incredibly slow. Not only did these people steal an important and unfinished ship in broad daylight on an island renowned for its bounty hunter, they didn't even know how to work it properly.
It didn't take long for the two to get to the ship. They were a long way from the stormy weather. If all went well they could turn the ship around and return it unharmed. The gang didn't seem to have noticed them. Odin had to wonder just how stupid this gang could get. He held his finger to his lips, signalling Hiro to stay quiet while he climbed aboard to scout.

---

"I-I'm sorry boss, I ain't no ship expert!" shouted the scout. He was being held by two other gang members. In front of him stood Don Cigarette menacingly.
"Well maybe you should have thought of that before you led us here!" he put on his trusted iron knuckles, which he'd stolen from the weapon's factory the gang had worked in before the crash.
"Please, boss, I..."
"Crouching kitty," he readied the punch, "hidden lizard!"

---

Odin was assessing the situation. "They're unarmed," he said to Hiro, "there are 10 of them..." he heard the sound of a strong punch followed by a splash, "9 of them. Are you ready?"
Odin was certainly ready. These people were stupid and used brute force. A very familiar foe to be up against. He might not even have to draw his sword.
He jumped on board the ship....

[Deleted]

“Nine of them, five arrows, we may have to get our hands dirty this time, Silver-Mane,” Argo Hiro muttered. “Well, let’s get this over with.” Hiro and Silver-Mane jumped up behind the swordsman, who had already landed on the deck. “Such a flashy entrance,” Hiro grumbled, “We could have killed them all without them ever knowing we were here.”

The biggest man, presumably the boss, who by the way was armed with a pair of iron knuckles, shouted something and pointed at the intruders. Hiro shrugged in resignation, a fight was, after all, inevitable. “You take the four on the left, I’ll take the four on the right,” without waiting for a response, Hiro drew his knives and rushed into combat.

The four thugs charged him simultaneously. While not a very thought out one, their tactic was an effective one, on most opponents. These thugs were strong, but they weren’t very agile, Hiro easily ducked the first guy’s punch and deftly sliced his calves. “You’re not going anywhere soon, friend.” The grunt toppled to the ground, howling in agony.

The other grunts eyed Hiro warily after that, and slowly fanned out to surround him. So they did have a modicum of intelligence. But not enough. Hiro brought his silver whistle up to his lips and let out a rapid series of three short blasts. The bandits looked at him confused. Hiro waved at them, drawing even greater looks of confusion.

Those fools didn’t have a chance against Silver-Mane and Hiro’s Man-Beast tag team. Silver-Mane took one out from behind, and before they even knew what was happening, Hiro had dashed up to another and slipped behind him, planting a knife in his back. Drawing another, Hiro threw it at the final thug, who had his attention on Silver-Mane.

It entered the rib cage just below the armpit. Clockwork.

[PlatonSkull]

No, Odin thought to himself, I won't need to draw my sword.
The deck of the ship wasn't a very big space to fight, especially not when it involved eleven people total, but the numbers would probably diminish quickly.
Odin had from when he was little been trained to fight the viking way - beat them up good. Punch after punch after cut after hit... he had quickly grown tired of it, mainly because it wasn't very effective with his less-than-burly physique. Instead he came up with a different fighting style, one that made him the prodigy of his village, because it was very effective against his sparring partners.

Four people ran towards him. Odin had never imagined someone attacking more recklessly than his viking opponents, but here they were.
He poised himself; his left foot forward, knees bent to stabilize his stance. His shoulders were aligned, his left towards his opponents. Extending from it, his arm went downwards and a bit to the side with an open hand ready to take hold of his enemies. His right hand, a clenched fist, was held close to his body, a bit beneath his chin, ready to strike or parry. Which of his opponents would strike first?

In an action-movie manner, one of the bad guys dashed forward while the others waited patiently for their turn instead of using their numbers to their advantage.
The grunt's dash got closer to a jump. He intended to grab Odin and get him to the ground where they could beat him up. Odin shifted a meter to the right, extended his foot, and let the enemy fall flat on his face.
He readied himself again, the next strike came faster. A right jab aimed at his face. He grabbed the arm with his left hand before it could hit, stopping the thug dead in his tracks, which was the opening Odin needed to knock the air out of him with a strong right. He spun around, still with a firm grasp on the grunt's right wrist. They ended up back to back. Odin ducked down and flung his opponent over him. His victim landed on the floor. He wouldn't be back up anytime soon.

While still ducking, he made a swiping movement with his leg, making one of the men, who had readied himself to attack him from behind, trip over and fall. The guy that had jumped Odin to begin with now took hold of him. The boss with the brass knuckles appeared.
"Crouching Kitty," he readied a punch. Odin hit the guy that was holding him with a right elbow, forcing him to let go, and jumped aside.
"Hidden Lizard!"
"Boss, wait-" but it was too late. The thug that a moment ago held Odin couldn't dodge in time, and Don Cigarette knocked him out cold with a powerful blow.
Realizing what had just happened, the boss turned to Odin, who was spending the time he had to put on his own brass knuckles.
"You're a tricky brat, huh?" he said with a stupid look on his face, "makes me want to punch you," he continued in a bad attempt to sound threatening.
"Puppy-boy," Odin called; Hiro and silver-mane had just expertly finished off four enemies, "I've got a couple left over here. Can you take care of them?" he turned his head back to the gangleader with a look that was actually threatening, "I'll beat this guy in the meantime..."

[Deleted]

Pain can be a powerful thing. It can be used to so control the human body that not even the owner of said body can stop it’s complete take over. A single wound can paralyze the enemy beyond recovery. But knowing where to make that single wound is an entirely different matter.

So the eye patch guy was going after the biggest and stupidest of the lot huh? Does he expect the gang members behind him to just leave him be? Hiro decided he had to do something, the dude did ask him to.

The thugs were already sneaking up behind Cyrus Odin, and Hiro didn’t particularly like the idea of the thugs with ravenous looks on their faces getting what they wanted. With a shrug of the shoulders, Hiro took his bow out of it’s case and felt for an arrow over his shoulder.

With intense concentration, all things fade. Time seems to slow down as Argo Hiro nocks his arrow and begins to concentrate on the two foes running towards the eye patch dude. He is the hunter they are the prey. Prey never sees the first arrow coming. Hiro draws back the arrow until the feathers are tickling his cheek.

For him, there is nothing else in the world except the arrow, and the target. Not even he exists as the arrow fulfills it’s destiny to be one with the target. His world enveloped in utter blackness, Hiro releases the bowstring, and the arrow becomes one with the target. Ichi Yajirush.

The arrow streaks away and tears the first grunts throat out, but before the second realizes it, another arrow is coming for him. The moment realization to what had happened dawned in his eyes, the second target took an arrow through the temple.

After retrieving his knives from his first four, Hiro walked over to his two freshest kills. Sloppy work, that first one was, missed the center of his throat, Hiro thought to himself. Retrieving his arrows, Hiro leaned against the mast of the ship to watch the final fight of the day.

[PlatonSkull]

FINAL ROUND: CYRUS ODIN vs "DON CIGARETTE"

One would expect the leader of a gang consisting of stupid thugs to be the smart guy of the group - a man who had the brains to put his underling's muscle to good use and the charisma to get them to do the dirty work.
Don Cigarette was not that guy; he had the wits of an ostrich on steroids and the charm of a dead cockroach. If anything, he was the dumbest one in the entire gang.
It was immediately obvious to Odin that Don Cigarette had become the leader from sheer physical prowess, which would explain why he couldn't get any logical person to join him.

The two faced each other off. Both of them wore their brass knuckles, and Odin had three distinct advantages: 1) His fighting style was very good at handling his opponent, 2) He hadn't even drawn his sword yet and 3) he didn't need to, because Don Cigarette was no match for him.
The Don made the first move, aiming for Odin's face with his left fist, and Odin was prepared; he swerved to the side and led the punch past him with his own left hand. He now stood to Don Cigarette's left, and since the Don's left arm was occupied, Odin saw his chance to give one, two, three punches to his face, then putting his left foot behind Don Cigarettes feet, and shoving him backwards into a fall.

Don Cigarette got to his feet, his nose bleeding heavily, and ran forwards more enraged than before.
Odin's fighting style required for him to anticipate his opponent's movements and countering, but it also required him to think a little: what is the best action? Should I parry his punch and kick him? Dodge? Attack him first?
At this point, Odin knew well that jumping backwards wouldn't help - he was nearing the edge of the deck, and he would get hit anyway - and he wouldn't risk parrying an uppercut. He jumped aside, rolling as he landed, avoiding a blow that would have sent him flying.
"You're a scaredy-cat, aren't you?" Don Cigarette said.
".......", Odin retorted. He didn't have time for chit-chat. He was back up and in a defensive stance.

The Don ran forwards, trying to hit Odin hard square in the jaw. Odin stepped back, dodging the attack, and jabbed the gang leader's shins with a kick.
An expression of pain, annoyance, and anger flashed across his face. This one-eyed prick would not beat him, surely? He punched again. Odin blocked it and kicked his opponent's kneecap.
"Damn you..." Don Cigarette went straight for the stomach this time.
The attack was slow due to Odin's kicks, so the silver-haired Viking managed to block it, and maneuvered behind his opponent. He stomped on a spot just below the Don's knee joint, which forced him to his knees. Don Cigarette was defenceless as Odin roundhouse kicked him in the back of his head, knocking him over and planting his face in the ground.

The gang leader picked himself up after a few seconds. This guy was quite durable.
"You leave me no choice. I have to use my secret technique!" Don Cigarette proclaimed. He'd thought them up himself. They were stupid, inefficient, and shouldn't even have special names, but he was very proud of them.
He bowed down, and ran straight forward, punching blindly ahead of him, shouting "Charging Goat!"
Odin barely had time to react to this thoughtless move. He jumped back, and back again. Don Cigarette continued his charge towards him, damaging barrels and shipwright equipment as he went, oblivious to what damage he was causing.
Odin suddenly found his back to the wall - the main cabin of the ship. Don Cigarette was headed straight towards it. With his strength and recklessness he might very well break the wall. Odin didn't have time to think; he jumped in front of the Don, who hit him straight in the stomach.

He felt the air flow out of him, followed by the pain that a strong punch with brass knuckles would cause. That was going to hurt for some time.
"What the hell, you want to die or something?" said Don Cigarette, proud of his achievement of landing a punch.
Odin looked up. His hair was no longer smooth and pretty, his posture was no longer strong and confident, but his eyes were filled with a strong determination as he said, "Don't you dare damage this ship." He and Hiro had made a promise, and he sure as hell wouldn't back down from it.
"Heheh," The Don had the perfect plan: if this brat liked the ship so much, he could hit him at full power. If the brat dodged, he would hit the ship instead. In his mind, he applauded his genius idea.
Don Cigarette aimed for Odin's chest with two punches at once. Odin put his arms up in front of him and spread them quickly, shoving the punches to either side and throwing the gang leader off balance. He didn't waste this chance; Odin jabbed the Don's neck from both sides simultaneously, causing him to gasp. He then took hold of his head, shoved it downwards right into his rising knee, knocking him backwards, blood from his face falling off in a smooth curve.

Don Cigarette was barely clinging on to consciousness as it was. You could barely make out his features from the bruises in his face. He still had one move left in him: his deadliest attack. Anyone who he hit would be sent flying, knocked out. He could win!
"Crouching Kitty," he readied his ultimate technique, "Hidden Lizard!!"
Odin ducked. Out of all the times Don Cigarette had used this punch, nobody had thought to duck under it. Maybe it had to to with the fact that his men had been holding his previous victims.
Odin rose up, very close to his opponent, who could only watch helplessly as he readied his final attack. That stupid face needed one more bruise.
"Viking Punch!!" Odin threw all his weight into the blow, hitting The Don square in the forehead, knocking his cognitive functions out of commission for the time being. Don Cigarette flew several meters backwards before falling lifelessly to the floor.

K.O.

Cyrus Odin straightened up, assessed the bruise on his chest, brushed off his cape and turned casually back to Hiro, "so how do we turn this thing around?"

[Deleted]

Argo Hiro absently scratched Silver-Mane behind the ear as he watched the eye patch guy fight the supreme grunt, as Hiro had begun to think of the big hunk of meat that wildly swung brass knuckles at anything that moved. He could have, of course simply shot the bigg’un and gone home, but Hiro suspected he would return to find the damage to his mouse of a ship irreparable, and he wanted this man to show his metal, in case Hiro was to ask him to sail together, because it was that or save up money on the island to buy himself another boat, and probably get just as lost as the first time. Besides, the eye patch guy seemed like good company. Hiro was beginning to enjoy himself, watching another person employing his melee tactics of anticipating the opponent’s moves in such a successful way.

Then Hiro saw something compelling as the thrashing beast of a man pinned the silver haired one against the cabin. Instead of letting the wall to the cabin be destroyed, the silver haired man had taken a painful looking punch to the gut. That was what decided Hiro about that man, and Silver-Manes quiet yip only strengthened his resolution; that this man had a strong set of morals and honor. Rather than break the promise the two of them had made to the tavern owner, Cyrus Odin had gotten the wind knocked out of him.

“That’s all I needed to see,” Hiro said to Silver-Mane with a note of finality. He absently tied up all the thugs, including the dead ones, with some rope he found hanging off the side of the boat. Hiro looked worriedly at the large storm they were heading towards, and turned his head to check on the final fight on the ship. Luckily, it was over, and Cyrus Odin was looking at Hiro, and asking how to turn the ship around.

Argo Hiro felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Turn the ship around… This ship had no steering wheel. Argo Hiro had had a crash course on sailing small boats, but he never had sailed in a big boat. Pushing feelings of despair aside, the young man began to try to relate the bigger boat with the smaller ones he was used to. To turn the smaller boat, you had to move a lever in the opposite direction you wanted to turn. So logically, there should be a lever running from back to front on the larger ship as well.

Hiro saw then a beam sticking out of the main cabin. “That should be it,” he said as he pushed it fourty-five degrees toward the wind, he didn’t want to risk luffing and slammed by the storm. Realizing that the boat might not make it in time, Hiro warned Odin with a grim look on his face. “You may want to hold on to something, this could get rough. His muscles tense against the beam, Argo Hiro nervously hoped for the best.

[PlatonSkull]

Cyrus Odin made a note to himself of thinking further ahead, as the ship made a sharp, rough turn achieved through the ingenious navigation method of "pushing a big stick". He barely kept balance as the waves from the storm ahead made the ship jump a bit.
He needed to read into navigation at some point.
After having made a clumsy u-turn, the ship rocked less and less until it was simply gliding through the calm ocean. An unfinished ship, but a well-crafted one. Odin chose this moment to assess the situation: out of the nine people they had met, there were a few injured or unconscious and plenty lying on the floor with blood-stained clothes and deadly wounds. All the dead ones had been the puppy-boy's opponents.
He looked to Hiro, who sat with a calmed look on his face, and to the wolf with reddened fur around its jaws. This kid had scars deep enough to cover for the loss of lives he had just caused.
Odin had never been an advocate of cold murder. Maybe he couldn't relate to Hiro's tragedy, but even so, there were limits to what he would shrug off as a product of grief, and murder was never the answer. Violence, he was okay with - his viking upbringing had taught him that much - but murder was a line he wanted to avoid crossing for as long as he could.

As they neared the harbour, Cyrus noticed it was more crowded than when they'd left. The city's first merchant ship had almost become their last, so it was understandable that a small crowd of people would be taking a look at the action.
A few of the cowboy-clad people stood with crossed arms and a serious look. These were some of the bounty hunters from the capital that weren't invited to the party or the glory that followed. Everyone else had a worried look on their face. Who might this heartless criminal be to steal the islands hope for survival?
As they came close to docking, a few people stepped forward, gestured the crowd back, and started tying the ship. Tool kits on their belts and a relieved look revealed them to be the shipwrights of the city.

Odin looked over the crowd and got eye contact with the barkeep, "You were right, mister!" Odin shouted to him, "It was that Don Cigarette gang!"
Every worried look on the people's faces disappeared as they realized it had merely been the bad apple Bob Donnathan that was responsible.
"Anyway, is anyone here a doctor? Some of these people need medical attention," he looked back at the deck covered with lifeless corpses, "and maybe bring a mortician or two"

[Deleted]

Being raised by wolves is a common excuse for bad manners in some places, but when you actually spend a significant time of your life in their company, you begin to disassociate yourself with your old life. Thus, Argo Hiro did not fully associate with the human race, to him they appeared more animal than the wolves he had grown up with, and therefore, he would never see the beauty of a woman, but could recognize the hierarchy of a wolf pack within a few seconds. This is also why he felt only as much remorse for the thugs on the ship as he would for a stag killed in a hunt. Less, actually, the stag had done nothing to deserve it’s death, while the gang members knew full well the risk of their actions, but carried them through anyway.

Only by Cyrus Odin’s obvious shell-shocked expression did he realize that when he was in society he should probably not aim to kill. He hoped that this blunder he made so early upon venturing out to sea would not be paid for dearly, nor lose him a friendship he hoped to find in the young pirate, Cyrus Odin. It would take practice to exert the control shown by Odin, for as a hunter, dishing out lethal power was second, neigh, first nature to Argo Hiro, but if he did not make an effort, he would never be accepted by the world he now lived in.

Argo Hiro slowly walked through the crowd of relieved townsfolk to where his ship was moored. Used to be moored, it had had repairable damage done to the hull and had been cut away from the docks. Hiro shrugged his shoulders with a slight sigh, he had expected as much. He rinsed what blood he could off his body in the salt water, while telling Silver-Mane to do the same with a quick gesture.

A quick scan of the crowd allowed Argo Hiro to find the silver haired youth, who still hadn’t managed to get through the crowd by the large merchant ship. Hiro walked up to him and anxiously said “You seem to be a man of great skill and unshakeable honor, friend. My ship was completely ruined on the way to this island, and I do believe it would be a great honor to sail with a man such as yourself. What do you say, can I sail with you until I raise enough money to buy a new ship?” With his proposal in the air, Argo Hiro hoped with all his heart that he could continue on his journey with this young man, for he seemed to be good company, and an experienced set of hands watching his back would be welcome.

[PlatonSkull]

Cyrus Odin jumped off the ship after the doctors had come safely on board. He stretched out a bit and rubbed the bruise on his belly; it was minor enough to heal on its own, though it ached a bit, like a dent in the head.
He found one of the shipwrights, "The ship wasn't at all harmed, except for a few bloodstains, so don't worry,"
The shipwright looked pretty worried after hearing Odin say such a thing in such a calm tone, but he nodded and lifted his hat a few centimetres.
Odin chuckled at this greeting as he made his way through the crowd of people. He felt many eyes point toward him, but it didn't make him uncomfortable; he had gotten used to it over the years. Odin didn't know it himself, but something about his attitude and posture tended to make him stand out to people, in a good way. Like he was a person to respect and admire.
Odin, who hadn't done anything in his life that he would deem extraordinary, didn't notice this, and had simply learned to ignore the people staring at him.

He looked to the sky, where a small black silhouette was flying towards him.
"Oh, there you are, Hummings," he said as the raven landed on his right shoulder and shook its feathers, "did you have a good look around the island?"
"Kaaaa! Kraaaaa!" Hummings replied, which translated to "I saw the wake of tragedy covering this island. It caused me great sorrow!"
"Awesome," Odin replied. Hummings had always been in the odd predicament of being unable to speak to humans. Odin didn't take notice of the raven's problem; it was just a simple bird anyway.

With his one remaining eye, Odin spotted the boy with the wolf. At the very least the kid had the decency to wash the blood off his weapons and his wolf's jaws.
Just then, Hiro had eyed him and walked over to him.
The youngster began some long speech: "...a man of great skill and unshakeable honour," most flattering, "I do believe it would be a great honour to sail with a man such as yourself," Odin wasn't sure if this kid thought he was the king of West Blue, or if he was flirting with him. Finally, the kid came to the point. He wanted to set sail alongside Odin.
This could be interesting, Odin thought as he eyed Hiro and Silver-Mane, pondering what this agreement might lead to.
Cyrus had always been a precautious person. Knowing what to do in a given situation - risk, reward, repercussions - was a valuable skill. But Cyrus had always been a curious person too, and often times his curiosity got the better of him.
"Sure thing," Odin said, "but you don't need to address me so formally, puppy-boy"
The boy did say that he would leave once he had money for a new ship, so if things didn't go well, it would at least be over at some point.
And of course, it's not every day you meet an adolescent with a quiver full of arrows, a past full of tragedy, a mind full of revenge, and a silver-maned wolf ready to lash out at anyone standing in the way.

This was going to be quite interesting.