[Episode] Is that man salty cause he's made of salt?

Quest Description:

A hair-raising crackle in the grey sky drew out a delighted squeak from a small voice. [npc=misc]"KYAAAAA~!!"[/npc] The source of the squeak—a pygmy lass—flung her arms out with her baby fingers spread wide. If it were not for the steady grip of her carrier, she surely would've tipped over backwards. She swiftly balanced herself with a possessive grip on her mount's ears.

[npc=misc]"Ish unna waaaiiiin, Gway-papa~~!!!!"[/npc] The girl exclaimed in a nasal sing-song voice. Her pitch was high as if infected by a cold, yet honeyed like a canary in spring.

Gray—the bear-like man serving as her vehicle—twisted his head up just enough to look at the straddler without knocking her off. His long orange-brown hair curtained down to his shoulders and had many poppy-red cherries tied to its strands like baubles on a festive tree. [plyr=pirt]"That's right~! You like rain, don't you, Merry-chan~?"[/plyr]

The chipmunk nodded like a bobblehead, making her short, sandy brown pigtail do a salsa dance. [npc=misc]"Buzz come aat aftuh wainsh! Cawwe catsh wain beetush at thish ailun?"[/npc]

[plyr=pirt]"You betcha, punchkin! We'll catch as many rain beetles as you can fill in your jar."[/plyr]

Gray hummed a cheerful ancient rhyme ambling along a soon-to-be-wet cobbled street. Showing off a billion-belly smile, Merry flailed her head side-to-side in rhythm and occasionally mumbled nonsensical words with the chorus.

After the umpteenth threat made by thunder, a woeful downpour cursed the dingy town of Port Artor. Many street vendors had prepared shelters; the quality of the awnings was no doubt a reflection of their wealth.

Activity in the market had slowed to a crawl. Stranded shoppers hurried to the eaves of the low buildings flanking the road to avoid soaking to the bone. Gray and his spirited ward were unfazed by the torrent. An inch above their skin, pellets of water struck an invisible shield and rolled off without touching a hair. Motherly bystanders murmured in judgment when they noticed the unkempt cyborg carry around his young pup through the rain with not a care in the world.

Merry plucked two cherries off of Gray's ginger hair locks. She mouthed one herself and reached around the giant's face to hold the other above his lips. Gray obediently accepted the offering like a dog eating off his owner's palm.

The odd pair wandered through the town until they found a park suited for a bug hunt. This piece of open green land was hidden away within a den of misery and depression. The buildings nearby were decrepit, and the roads were neglected. The few folks who lingered in the vicinity looked more suspicious than an elephant playing possum.

The pair's buggy enterprise blinded them to the dubious nature of their surroundings. Their one-track minds guided their hunt for the elusive rain beetles. Merry darted from one bush to another, shouting an off-key rain song. The rope belt tied like a butterfly behind her bounced like a tail with each step. She screeched whenever she mistook a cockroach, acorn, or human litter for a beetle.

Gray pursued her lazily until her bottomless energy drained him into resigning. A shoddy bench served as his temporary relief—even if it was ill-suited for ten feet and a thousand pounds of muscle and metal. He shuttered his weary eyelids and allowed the rain to cool them. He cleared his mind and let the distant sounds of the city fill the vacancy.

Port Artor was one of the more famous coastal cities of Ilisia. A stone's throw away (at least a stone's throw away for Gray) from this trade port was the 45th Marine Branch. Even after the recent alleged NRA assault on Lumina Bridge, the increased Marine presence could not polish (police?) the lawless face of the Ilisian coin. The disreputable denizens of the island leveraged the corrupt nature of the marine officers stationed there. And from what he had heard, even the kingdom's royal family could be counted among that lot.

Meanwhile, his charge had fled the confines of the park in search of one thing or another.

---

The pitter-patter of raindrops on a cobblestone street failed to drown the excited squeaks of a young adventurer.

[npc=misc]"Combackeer! Ahm unna catchu!"[/npc] She screeched as she clumsily dashed through a dingy alley after a wily rain beetle.

The beetle whizzed away as if its life depended on it. And maybe it did. The little huntress maintained pursuit. Wet roads and uncivilized quantities of litter were no obstacles to her. Every slip and trip on the path only made it a worthier challenge. She shrugged off each knee scrape and elbow bump with sprightly yelps.

After a satisfyingly long chase, the huntress finally cornered her prey. They had reached a narrow dead-end filled with dumpsters and trash cans. Glowing white eyes lurked in the dark corners of the blind alley.

[npc=misc]"Ahhve gotchu now!"[/npc] She declared smugly and locked her fists to her waist to strike a victory pose.

The beetle panicked and flew in circles, no doubt looking for a way out. Streams of sweat rolled from its shiny black shell when it pivoted back to meet its impending doom.

The pygmy huntress revealed a glass jar. Where exactly she had been keeping it was a mystery for another day. An atlas and a rhinoceros beetle looked out from within the transparent prison. They shook their horned heads in sympathy and prepared to witness another abduction. They knew what fate awaited the rain beetle.

Or perhaps not.

A snarling beast leapt out of the shadows. It swatted the beetle down on a closed dumpster and pinned it under its mangled paw.

The huntress shrieked.

[npc=misc]"Whaddaya fink yer doin' on mah durf, li'l buddahfly?"[/npc] Asked the monster. One of his eyes glowed golden brown, while the other was missing entirely with a scabrous scar in its place. The rest of his body was no different. Faded stripes and numerous half-healed injuries and pustules covered his mangy grey coat. Even his skinny tail ended prematurely in a stub. If ugly had a description, it would be this.

The beast wrenched his paw left and right over the rain beetle to assert his ownership.

[npc=misc]"Ah woz jush catshin dat wain beedull. Ish maan! Gibbid bag!"[/npc] The huntress said, unfazed by the beast's display of dominance.

The beast cackled maniacally as its minions started to step out of the dark one after the other. The dirty creatures surrounded the girl as their boss spoke. [npc=misc]"Yew fought yew could hunt in Senior Wowder Meowkinses terr'durry wifoud hiss purrmission? Mewhahahaha! Yew fought wrong!! Git 'er lads!"[/npc]

The feral goons converged on the huntress in unison. Her brows crumpled. She would have her prize back come hell or high Wowder. She charged Senior Meowkins and threw a blind straight right into the beast's pompous face.

The creature rocketed away, almost leaving its one shocked eye behind. Its minions' nearly lost their eyes too when they popped out of their sockets to watch their boss fly. With a united "ehhhhh?!!!" coordinated better than an award-winning choir, the cats realized the depth of their inferiority. Some fled while others stayed behind to bow down to their new boss. But, the huntress was not interested.

Her glib smile returned when she pawed the feeble rain beetle and plopped it into its cell in the company of its atlas and rhinoceros cousins. [npc=misc]"All maan!"[/npc] She chirped before strolling out of Senior Meowkins' former territory.

[npc=misc]"Ahm hungee now,"[/npc] The huntress admitted to her insect prisoners while searching for a way back to her human mount. As if on command, the faint scent of warm food managed to pierce through the smell of rain and piss. Her nose perked as she sniffed the air and started down another muddy street.

She traced the scent's origin to a derelict shack like a starving bloodhound tracking game. Rats skittered away from the structure when she approached the entrance. The door was battered and unhinged from the threshold.

The huntress dashed in and out of the rain only to find a scrawny fellow fiddling with his moustache. Her gaze acknowledged a can on a stove with a mouth-watering pig painted on its side. But, she had not forgotten her manners.

She walked up to the gentleman holding her jar behind her back, stood on her toes, and pleaded puppy-eyed. [npc=misc]"Hi, missher! Mahname ish Mawy Byanka Dwagun. Cuda half sum food, peez?"[/npc]

Elsewhere, a few moments before, a cyborg opened his eyes to the heavens. A screaming cat flew over his head. [plyr=pirt]Weird dream,[/plyr] he thought as he shut his eyes again to resume the nap he did not know he had started.

---

Merry eagerly spectated her new acquaintance as he revealed a vial full of fantastically pink liquid.

[npc=misc]"Izzat da spwing seezun?! Id rooks like chewy bossums!"[/npc] She chirped with blossoms in her eyes. Its colour was identical to the flowers that bloomed on her favourite trees near Yewshaw Village. Mama loved to set picnics underneath them every spring. Once she was gone, uma tried to also until she couldn't. Then Merry would do so alone.

[npc=misc]"Ah like momsoon seezun besd dough,"[/npc] she continued. [npc=misc]"Ah can catssh buzz when it wains. Do you wamma see mah beedull jar?"[/npc]

Without awaiting an expression of interest, she summoned her beetle jar from pockets unknown. She gripped the glass prison preciously from both sides and held it up so Franky could inspect the fine specimens inside. Surely he would never see the likes of them again. There was no beetle exhibit in the world that could match hers.

She placed a stubby finger on the glass to mark out the most anxious of her three prisoners. It panicked and flitted in circles, fighting against a fate called Merry Bianca Dragon.

[npc=misc]"Ah cott dis one juss now. Senior Wowduh Meowkinz waz gunna ead id, bud Ah punch-ed im so haad he fwoo away,"[/npc] she declared proudly while re-enacting the motion of her finishing move. Luckily, there was no cat—nor rat—at the end of that swing.

She was sure the man with the hat would be impressed by the saga of her great victory. It wouldn't surprise her if he begged to join her crew, prostrating himself before her just like Senior Wowder Meowkins' former feline associates.

Before the prospect of rejecting another potential subordinate consumed her, the aroma of a porcine delicacy tickled the olfactories of the hungry child. She inflated her nostrils three times their size to vacuum in the steam some more and fill her lungs before she filled her tummy.

She looked up at the gracious cook, ready to be served a well-earned lunch. Perhaps it would only have been fair for her to let him hold her treasure while she ate. Gray-papa had taught her several times, [plyr=pirt]"If your host is rich, you can dine and ditch; but if your host is a bum, you must give them some rum."[/plyr]

She never understood what rum was since Gray-papa said she wasn't ready to try it. But, by the reverence he showed whenever it was mentioned, rum could only have been some great treasure.

When Franky asked after her parents, she said, [npc=misc]"Mah mama and uma wen to papa. Dey said Ah couldun go to dem yed. So now Ah go wid Gway-papa insed. He'z a reely big an srong piyate. He waz de cappun of de srongest kroo in de wuruld. Papa waz his bess fren. He ebun haz a wobod ahm. Id can shood wazers!"[/npc] Stars twinkled in her round amber eyes as she mimicked her guardian's robotic arm, firing imaginary laser beams out of her fleshy palm.

As the savoury essence grew stronger, a wriggling leg betrayed her impatience. A drop of saliva leaked from the corner of her parched mouth as she ogled the can of pork and beans.

[npc=misc]"Can I haf da food now, peez, Misser Fwanky?"[/npc]

Near the dingy shack, a clowder of scraggly cats meowed over each other in hopes of reaching their new boss through the rain.

---

If bottomless hunger had a face, it might have resembled Merry's. The moment Franky catered to her a can of pork-ish delight, Merry dug in. It took several swallows for her to notice an odd and acrid taste. But, umma and Gray-papa had taught her better than to gripe about free food.

She scooped the thick, stew-like dish with a bare hand and was nearly finished when she heard a wheeze. A glance at Franky was all it took to recognize something was wrong, even for a four-year-old child. 

[npc=misc]"Woz da madduh, Misser Fwanky?"[/npc] She asked with the genuine concern of an affectionate puppy.

The way he clawed at his throat reminded her of the incident a few weeks before, when she had watched another man do the same after calling her some funny things. Gray-papa had slapped his back a few times to cure him of his spell. Naturally, Merry had learned from the best and would emulate her guardian's technique.

She abandoned the rest of her meal to rush to Franky's side. She spread her chubby little fingers wide and struck the centre of Franky's back with an open palm. 

Fierce shockwaves rocked the shack, Franky's little stove tipped over on its side, and the stray cats outside meowed in unison.

[npc=misc]"Der you go, Misser Fwanky! Ah'll sabe you! You're a good possum,"[/npc] Merry said with a worried frown as she battered the generous man's back repeatedly until he wasn't twitching and scratching his throat any more.

Only moments after she saved Franky from an unfortunate demise, she felt the spell infect her next. She coughed and gagged; her small hands flew to her throat instinctively. Whatever had attacked Franky was surely targeting her next.

[npc=misc]"H-helb m-me, Misser Fwa--"[/npc] She could not finish her words before a dizzying curse struck her like a bat to the head, and she fell to the ground unconscious.

Elsewhere, her guardian's eyes suddenly opened. The wrath of the torrent above multiplied as the clouds grew darker and the deluge, heavier. Gray's gaze dimmed with innate indignation.

[plyr=pirt]"Merry..."[/plyr] He said as the air around him sizzled and boiled the raindrops into steam.

With a thunderous boom, he was outside the hovel where he had sensed his ward's spirit fade. The mewing felines circling around the building cowered and fell silent. They slunk away from the scene to seek refuge in the shadows again. The hostile aura leaking from the ten-foot-tall elephant rattled the creaking wooden shack. Tiny rats skittered and squealed in terror, fleeing outside despite the rain, but the larger rat remained inside.

[plyr=pirt]"You..."[/plyr] The incensed voice came from a dark silhouette standing just outside the door, his head and shoulders obscured behind the wall, for he was taller than even the door frame.

---

The sky hid behind a blanket of clouds—black as coal—and the rain assaulted the streets with renewed zeal, lightning flashing and thunder clamouring in support. Gray ducked through the door he had darkened, while the rat inside squeaked excuses. His golden gaze fixated on the little girl in his care. 

Indeed, she had a pulse.

The shack's ceiling was slanted, allowing Gray just enough headroom to stand up straight. He spent a moment in quiet. The golden gaze studied the toppled stove and the pork and beans spilling out of a can. It then scanned the spent cigarettes littering the floor. Finally, it fell upon the man in the brown suit, his beady green eyes no doubt studying him back.

[plyr=pirt]"I would say it's a pleasure to run into you again, but considering the circumstances, that wouldn't exactly be true for either of us, would it?"[/plyr] Gray finally spoke. His words carried neither anger nor mirth. They were as flavourless as he remembered Zeff's Pork & Beans to be.

[plyr=pirt]"It looks like you were sharing your precious food with Merry."[/plyr]

Merry grunted in her unconscious daze and managed to mumble, [npc=misc]"Gway-papa."[/npc] Gray smiled.

[plyr=pirt]"Do tend to my ward with care, Dr. Chopper,"[/plyr] Gray said. It was not a request.

[plyr=pirt]"Or was it Dr. Maxwell?"[/plyr] He added with a skeptical squint.

A week or two ago on a nearby island...

Sounds of joy poured out of a small and cramped establishment, like water rushing from a dam's floodgates. Labourers laughed, sailors sang, and citizens cheered around little Merry as she mimicked a silly dance she had learned while birdwatching only a few days before. 

Gray kept a weather eye on his charge while leafing through the World Economic Journal. It took him a few minutes to realize there was a more recent newspaper within reach. 

He nearly winced as he examined the front-page stories in both papers. [plyr=pirt]Don't make the same mistakes I did, Berengar...[/plyr] he almost said aloud. 

As he turned more pages, a few bounty posters fell out. He caught them just before they landed on the dirty floor and scanned through faces, old and new. One face caught his eye in particular. It was obscured beneath a wide brown hat, but there was just enough peeking through to tickle his memory.

[npc=pirt]"Dr. Chopper?"[/npc] He asked himself.

No. It was, Richard "Plague Rat" Maxwell, instead. Gray recognized the epithet immediately, for he had noticed it only minutes before. He hurried back to the article that labelled the man as a snake oil merchant, a self-proclaimed doctor, and the mastermind of a theft. It certainly rang familiar to his encounter with the man. But, self-proclaimed doctor or not, Gray couldn't deny he had great talent with medicine. A grateful village in Alabasta would have agreed.

As he pondered over the possibility, a shout across the room drew his ears. A man larger than even Gray howled at Merry.

[npc=misc]"Quit yer clownin' ya li'l lunatic! Don't ya know yer daft chicken dance is soilin' my grub and foulin' my grog?! Ya better take yer fawkin' folly outta 'ere before I kick yer sorry rear to the street where ya belong, ya filthy rat,"[/npc] the big oaf threatened. 

Merry seemed unfazed, too innocent and pure to understand the man's insults and threats. The other patrons booed and hushed the man, but he continued with his insults until he suddenly couldn't. 

His face turned red and bloated, and his throat closed as if by a vice. He clawed at his neck and chest, gasping for air, grunting and wriggling as if caught by a spell. And so he was.

The neighbouring customers cleared away from him as if he were infectious, but Merry approached him with concern. [npc=misc]"Gway-papa, helb!"[/npc] She called out. [npc=misc]"Ah fink dis man ish sig!"[/npc] 

Gray realized his face had twisted into an angry and vengeful bear's as he punished the man for his careless insults. He sighed and forced a smile for Merry's sake. He walked over to the dying man and smacked his back a few times with just enough force to make a point, releasing him from the pressure valve he had choked him with.

[plyr=pirt]"There we go. This is why we don't talk while we eat, isn't it, Merry-chan?"[/plyr] He said to his ward with a joyous smile. Merry agreed with her signature bobble head nod.

The oaf seemed to have learned his lesson, as he slunk away into a shadowy corner, with not a word spoken in protest.

Merry glanced behind Gray to the lonely table he had been perusing the news at and asked with big, curious eyes, [npc=misc]"Wad wuh yew weeding, Gway-papa?"[/npc] 

Gray placed his large hand on her auburn head. It fit snugly inside his palm. [plyr=pirt]"I was reading about some friends of mine, Merry-chan."[/plyr]

[npc=misc]"Cannu dell me aboud deez frens?"[/npc] She lifted her arms and spread them wide. Gray had come to understand the gesture perfectly.

He picked her up and straddled her behind his neck, her feet dangling from his shoulders as she pinched his hair. He then walked her back to his table and displayed two bounty posters.

[plyr=pirt]"See this one? His name's Berengar."[/plyr]

[npc=misc]"Heez a beer!"[/npc]

[plyr=pirt]"He's a bear-mink, Merry-chan. I've told you about minks, haven't I?"[/plyr]

[npc=misc]"Yew did, bud ah don remebur yew showing me one~"[/npc]

Gray laughed and nodded in admission. 

[plyr=pirt]"Very true. I'm sure we'll run into a mink or two on our adventures. Maybe we'll even visit their homeland one of these days. Would you like that?"[/plyr]

[npc=misc]"Yew mean dah elefund?"[/npc]

[plyr=pirt]"That's right. They live atop a giant elephant taller than a mountain. It's been wandering through the sea for hundreds of years."[/plyr]

[npc=misc]"Ahm unna cwime the elefund an wide id!"[/npc]

[plyr=pirt]"Climbing the elephant isn't as easy as climbing me, but I'm sure with some practice, you can pull it off."[/plyr] The faint crow's feet stretching from the corners of his eyes deepened as Gray snickered.

[npc=misc]"Wod aboud da odhe fren?"[/npc]

Gray retrieved the poster of his hatted acquaintance and passed it up to Merry. She wrinkled its edge in her chubby little grip.

[plyr=pirt]"They say his name is Richard Maxwell, but I knew him as Dr. Chopper. He saved a friend's mom when she was sick."[/plyr] 

[npc=misc]"Do yew fink he cudave sabed mama or umma when dey were sig?"[/npc] She asked. 

Gray paused to try and melt the pit in his stomach. When he accepted Merry's care, he had never imagined questions like these would be harder on him than the most challenging monsters he had faced across the oceans.

[plyr=pirt]"I'm sure he would have tried, Merry-chan,"[/plyr] Gray finally said. Thankfully, Merry seemed plenty satisfied with the effort.

[npc=misc]"Wer ah we unna find Dogturd Choppa?"[/npc] Merry asked.

Gray laughed so loudly, it disturbed the nearby tables.

[plyr=pirt]"Well, if this News Coo is right, Doctor Chopper might still be here in the West Blue. I have no simple way to find him, but, he does have a way to find me. I passed on the same piece of paper to him that I gave you,"[/plyr] Gray said.

[npc=misc]"Yew mean da vivi caad?"[/npc] Merry said brightly as she fetched a square piece of blank paper from her pocket. It drifted ever so gently in her small palm towards Gray.

[plyr=pirt]"Exactly! He has my Vivre card too."[/plyr]

[npc=misc]"Do yew fink heez unna look foyew?"[/npc] Merry asked, curiously leaning over to look at Gray.

[plyr=pirt]"Who knows? It's a whim of fate. Sometimes, it brings people together in unexpected ways,"[/plyr] Gray said, wistful.



And unexpected it certainly was. There was the man they had spoken of only days before. And more so than ever before, Gray could see the ugly title of "Plague Rat" well-suited.

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