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“Is that so?” Roan mumbled, looking back over his shoulder. He expected not to see anyone, but their pursuers had stepped out of their cover, steadily approaching. Roan stopped, nudging Glenn and pointing them out, asking, “You recognize these kids?” Admittedly, they weren’t too much younger than Roan and Glenn, but Roan certainly wasn’t going to recognize them.

Once the two youths were in earshot, one of them called, “You there! The shorter one! Yeah, give back what you stole from Winston!” The two looked at each other with uncertainty, as if they weren’t sure what they were told was true or not, while Roan simply looked over to Glenn and shrugged.
Oh, okay! Kinda surprised to see a reply, it's been a little while. I'll get one of my own up tomorrow!
At Glenn’s confusion, Roan kindly reminded him, “Ms Dotta mentioned Scarlett. Ring a bell?” At Glenn’s sheepish response, Roan praised himself on the accurate guess, before realizing he shouldn’t pride himself for reading such an open book. “Well, let’s get going then! That treasure ain’t gonna find itself,” Roan smiled, picking up his pace a little, heading closer and closer to the limits of the small town. The sky was still clear, the weather fair, and the roads clear as far as the eye could see on the slightly uneven terrain: a damn good day for travel.

As they reached the city limits, Roan took one last look back at Glenn and the two, keeping an eye over his shoulder. He subconsciously reached his hand down to his skin, where his shiny new knife was. Stopping for a moment, he readjusted himself, putting his new knife with his old one. He then made to keep moving, before glancing over his shoulder again, seeing some movement. Though Roan couldn’t tell, they were being tailed by a pair of village youths, the very same whom were helping Winston with his new ‘furniture shipment’ earlier. Slowing his pace to walk by Glenn, he asked, “Aside from Ms Dotta, no one knows we’re going anywhere, right?”
Been a few days...did I do too much with that post or are you just busy?
In the Grand Line, a sea overrun with piracy, many islands had many ways to attempt to protect themselves from the threat of violent seafarers. Some islands never needed much, being naturally dangerous enough on their own. One such island is Meldion, known for its odd weather of extremes. In winter, the island is chilly and frozen. In autumn, winds whip up into tornadoes often. In the springtime, it becomes warm and humid. And currently, in summer, it is dry, making many plants wilt, areas near the shores being desertified. Somehow, animals, plants, and people have adapted to this lifestyle, the citizens of the island building a powerful Empire.

However, down in the dungeons under the capital city of Malodi, where more than a few pirates were being dealt with, yet another was joining them. Dressed in prison stripes was a broad man with platinum blond hair, tied back, hanging to the end of his neck. His eyes were covered by a pair of sunglasses, and shackles kept his wrists bound together as two guards escorted him, a four colored emblem displayed on their capes, wearing gray armor over their torso and white pants, helms covering their faces, swords and pistols at their hips. Finally reaching an open area with a number of trapdoors, they opened one, gesturing for the man to get in. He looked down, before being shoved in, crying out as he fell. Luckily he bounced, standing on his shaking knees, gritting his teeth as the trap door was shut and locked.

Gerolf Flannel fumed, “There’s nothing wrong with Sea King liver already! Seriously! It’s not that bad!” Grumbling, he plopped down looking around his cell. It was pretty featureless: there was a small, filthy hatch for relieving one’s self, and a barred grate in one of the stone walls. It looked like it had a door system that allowed guards walking by to give food to the prisoners, but it seemed to be connected to another cell.
Well, I shot you a PM with my idea.
I'm down for something! Unfortunately, I'm pretty tapped as far as ideas go for setting, but I'd probably be leaning towards one of the urban/sci-fi or fantasy ones. I've got to go to work at the moment, so I might come up with something! I'll look through some of my older ideas too, see if I can't find anything workable.
Nodding at Glenn’s suggestion, Roan replied, “It’s as good a start as any! Lead the way.”

The pair reached the town proper, going down a path and taking a turn to reach a two story building, the lower story marked by a glass-less window to display some wares. As Roan approached the door, he could hear some voices from around the corner. “But we just carried it down the hill!” complained what sounded to Roan like a boy a few years younger than him.

An older man hissed back, “You can complain about your arms hurting after having carried it up a hill, now get! You’ll get your pay when you bring me that bookshelf...books included!” Roan heard a few footsteps before a wiry, middle aged man stepped out from behind the shop, spotting Glenn and Roan with his beady eyes through oversized spectacles. “Oh, excuse me, just taking care of a...goods shipment, ahem,” Winston insisted, before reentering his store. Roan went in after him, going over his list in his head.

“What can I do you for?” Winston asked, rearranging some things as he spoke. Turning, he raised his eyebrow when he got a better look at Glenn, but didn’t say anything.

Trying to make it quick, roan but on one of his best smiles, replying, “Just a couple things for a little trip: some flint for starting fires, a good knife, two skins, two cloaks, and a good length of rope. Yeah, that should do it.”

“A trip, hmm?” Winston repeated. Mumbling to himself as he went about, grabbing a few things. He dropped a coil of rope onto a counter, put the empty skins there, then quickly went out back, returning with two cloaks and a stone after a few moments. He did a bit of fidgeting with his fingers, counting, before finally offering, “Six silver and 5 copper should do nicely. Might I also recommend-”

“No,” Roan said quickly.

Winston blinked, as if he’d never heard the word in his life. “W-what do you mean ‘no’?”

“Your recommendation. No thank you,” Roan insisted. He knew what he was probably about to hear, some one time offer just for him, because he liked the look of him. Unfortunately for Winston, Roan was slightly better at coming up with nonsense to spew, and everyone knew trying to cheat a cheat was a fool’s errand. Before Winston could continue, Roan grabbed at the rock, nabbing it before Winston even noticed. Turning it over in his hands, he noticed Winston’s eyes dart between Roan and the rock. Without hesitating, Roan tossed it out of the open window. Winston glared, opening his mouth, but Roan interrupted once more, “You think I can’t recognize flint? It was still half stained in dirt. Don’t tell me you didn’t pull it out of the ground five seconds ago.” Looking over everything again, he finished, “I won’t stand to be insulted: I’ll take everything for five silver flat. And if those skins break I’ll be patching them with some of yours.”

Winston gaped for a moment, before blurting, “Fine!” Roan smiled, before waving for Glenn to pay him as the street rat grabbed for the things. Spotting something else, he lifted a nearby dagger, slipping it into one of the skins nonchalantly as Winston was dealing with Glenn.

Throwing his cloak over his shoulders, rope over his shoulder, and one of the skins tied to his belt (knife hidden within), he flashed one last smile at Winston, saying, “You have a good day Mr. Crowder.” The old merchant, who hadn’t said his name, gave Roan a look of displeasure and befuddlement, waving for him to leave hastily.

Once the two were out, Roan said, “Well, I got what I needed. Wanna make one last stop? Let that friend of yours know you’ll be gone for a bit?” Roan was of course thinking of Scarlett. He didn’t pretend to know the details there, but even thinking about them made Glenn pleased, and Roan’s teenage mind could only think of ‘a girl’.
Yeah, I figure it will allow us both to influence things.

I'll probably have something happen in town for the first event, then you'll do something on the road, then I'll do something on the road. Then maybe they'll hit a town? We'll see!
Moments after Roan had finished with the firewood, Glenn returned from above just as Ms Dotta handed Roan the parcel of food. After spending a moment trying to find an easy way to carry it, he decided instead to just give it to Glenn later, simply holding it over his shoulder for now.

Dotta took a moment to give Glenn an axe to grind, insisting it was for the best. Roan concurred, “You sure about that? It gets cold at night, my friend.” Speaking of which, Roan added ‘something to help light fires’ to his list of things to pick up. Thinking they were about finished here, Roan said, “Well, see you in a month, Ms Dotta! If this goes well...on second thought, let’s not count our chickens before they hatch.” With one last smile, the boy headed for the door.

Exiting the farmhouse, he made his way back to town, keeping a steady pace to allow Glenn to keep pace with no problem. Once the two were away from the farm, Roan said, “Well, she was nice. I wouldn’t expect everyone we run into to be that nice though: just a fair warning. Now...” Turning to Glenn, he asked, “You know the locals, where’s the best place in town to get some wares?”
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