Post by Deleted on Aug 8, 2013 19:17:31 GMT -5
Argo Hiro suddenly realized how far from home he was when Cyrus Odin told him he didn’t have to be so formal. Where Hiro came from, when asking one for something, you were expected to use complete formalities to show respect, lest the one you were asking of became offended. He had much to learn about the outside world. “Awesome,” Hiro said with a boyish grin, “I’m going to take a walk around town for a bit, see what I can learn about this sea. I’ll meet you back at the bar at sundown.” And with that and a wave, Argo Hiro set out for town.
The first thing Hiro saw when he came into town was a butcher. Of course he wanted some meat for himself, and Silver-Mane looked awful hungry. Alas, Hiro barely had a single beri, and the little he had was to replenish his quiver. Strengthening his resolve, Hiro turned away from the butcher’s empty handed.
Argo Hiro always liked small merchant stalls. Besides the fact that they reminded him of his old friend, Hanou, he liked the idea of small business pride. Plus they always had a juicy piece of gossip or useful information for ones with open ears and an inquisitive spirit. Walking from stall to stall, Hiro managed to refill his quiver with good quality, low price arrows. As was to be expected in an ex-weapons manufacturer, the weapons here were good quality, but not overly expensive.
Whilst doing his shopping, Hiro learned many things about this sea and it’s islands. There was a deserted island that was rumored to have a buried treasure, one who provided the marines with a large amount of natural born firearms masters, a member of the world government with an enormous lumber trade, and more besides! Hiro was beginning to think that this was going to be an interesting voyage, sailing this sea with his new friend.
There was something odd about the majority of the stalls, however. No matter where he went, the food was never abundant. When asked about this, the stall owners would evade his question, muttering something vague about pirates. Finally, Hiro managed to get a merchant who would tell him the whole story, a young man with fierce brown eyes and strangely light hair.
“Well ya see,” the merchant began explaining, “there’s an island in the west blue where we get a large amount of food. It’s an agricultural island with few defenses by the name of flat farm island, or just Windia. They usually produce an enormous surplus which we merchants can buy cheap, and thus sell cheap to the populous. But recently, there has been a gang of pirates burning fields and barns, they’re a terrible plague to the island. I do believe they call themselves something like the hot-faced, or fire-head,”
“The Flame-Hair pirates?” Hiro interjected with his pulse quickening.
“Errr, yeah, that do sound about right. Well thanks for your business, have a nice day!” Hiro didn’t hear the last part because he was walking away with a strange feeling welling up inside him. So soon after setting sail he had found a trail to those he swore to find. He was ready. Ready to find them. Ready to be reunited with his family. Ready and able.
At sunset, Hiro arrived at the bar to find Odin having a beer. Whether he had been there all day, or just got there, Hiro could not say. Taking the stool next to him, Hiro said, “Hey, so in the morning, I was thinking we could sail for the island Windia. I have some business to attend to there.” Argo Hiro had the scent of his prey, and once the Shadow is on your trail, on your trail he stays.
The first thing Hiro saw when he came into town was a butcher. Of course he wanted some meat for himself, and Silver-Mane looked awful hungry. Alas, Hiro barely had a single beri, and the little he had was to replenish his quiver. Strengthening his resolve, Hiro turned away from the butcher’s empty handed.
Argo Hiro always liked small merchant stalls. Besides the fact that they reminded him of his old friend, Hanou, he liked the idea of small business pride. Plus they always had a juicy piece of gossip or useful information for ones with open ears and an inquisitive spirit. Walking from stall to stall, Hiro managed to refill his quiver with good quality, low price arrows. As was to be expected in an ex-weapons manufacturer, the weapons here were good quality, but not overly expensive.
Whilst doing his shopping, Hiro learned many things about this sea and it’s islands. There was a deserted island that was rumored to have a buried treasure, one who provided the marines with a large amount of natural born firearms masters, a member of the world government with an enormous lumber trade, and more besides! Hiro was beginning to think that this was going to be an interesting voyage, sailing this sea with his new friend.
There was something odd about the majority of the stalls, however. No matter where he went, the food was never abundant. When asked about this, the stall owners would evade his question, muttering something vague about pirates. Finally, Hiro managed to get a merchant who would tell him the whole story, a young man with fierce brown eyes and strangely light hair.
“Well ya see,” the merchant began explaining, “there’s an island in the west blue where we get a large amount of food. It’s an agricultural island with few defenses by the name of flat farm island, or just Windia. They usually produce an enormous surplus which we merchants can buy cheap, and thus sell cheap to the populous. But recently, there has been a gang of pirates burning fields and barns, they’re a terrible plague to the island. I do believe they call themselves something like the hot-faced, or fire-head,”
“The Flame-Hair pirates?” Hiro interjected with his pulse quickening.
“Errr, yeah, that do sound about right. Well thanks for your business, have a nice day!” Hiro didn’t hear the last part because he was walking away with a strange feeling welling up inside him. So soon after setting sail he had found a trail to those he swore to find. He was ready. Ready to find them. Ready to be reunited with his family. Ready and able.
At sunset, Hiro arrived at the bar to find Odin having a beer. Whether he had been there all day, or just got there, Hiro could not say. Taking the stool next to him, Hiro said, “Hey, so in the morning, I was thinking we could sail for the island Windia. I have some business to attend to there.” Argo Hiro had the scent of his prey, and once the Shadow is on your trail, on your trail he stays.