[Episode] Black Sheep & Lambs to the Slaughter

Quest Request:

It was a dreary day suppressed beneath the battering of torrential rains, ink-black storm clouds murmured up grumbles of thunder, but lightning was yet to strike. The men of the Merry Militia marched onwards, through the mucky soaked silt of the village’s hill; for those unlucky chosen for today’s patrol it was down to the murky gray shores of Syrup Village to investigate sightings of a “little creature.”

Searching for monsters and sea-serpents was something of a tradition for the idle men of the relatively peaceful little island, when the weather was nice it was a fun way to pass the time and give the people a sense of security; however, in the middle of a storm it seemed more like a fool’s errand.

[npc=misc]“What is it we’re lookin’ for again, Jack?”[/npc] An older member of the guard queried their young leader; he was a bit curious, usually the targets of the group’s hunt were devised amongst the group, but this time the Mayor of Merry himself had tasked them with a quest on behalf of the community.

“A little critter, been scramblin’ around; nabbin’ up livestock and nibblin’ it down if farmer Aesopp’s anything to go on,” Jack spoke back, casting a bit of derision in his voice towards the source of the inquiry.

[npc=misc]“Ah, I suppose we won't be out long then? Just another a’ that old guy’s tall tales?”[/npc] The man’s boots were already a bit soaked, he had every reason to dismiss the man’s claim.

But a well trained flock of sheep knows well enough to heed the call of the boy who cried wolf.

“Could be. That’s what we’re out for eh?” Jack scoffed, covering an undertone of concern in his voice.

Lightning is said never to strike twice in the same place, in this way misfortune can be said to be the elemental plasma’s opposite; calamity propagates wherever it is present.

Like driftwood being carried to shore upon cruel waves, the all-but broken old fishing vessel banked itself weakly into the island’s sands. Stepping off the ship’s helm and landing with a small spray of muck, the giant gracefully made his way along the beachfront.

He solemnly strode, most disliked the rain; but the eastern rains were one of the many things that the monster would be leaving behind in his departure from the blues. He was headed for Loguetown, but he didn’t know exactly where he’d washed up. Like a stone skipped across the blues, the oni had brought terror to every island he’d frequented, but this place seemed almost too peaceful to defile with his usual antics.

This can’t be Loguetown, it’s quiet here… the whistling ocean breeze carried Doji forwards, the tattered rags of his kimono drifted weakly in the wind like dangling wisteria,  … may as well enjoy it, I’ll stay this blade here if I can, the monster thought to the cruelty of his weapon, a blade that demanded the tribute of rampant bloodshed whenever it was drawn.

Then the Merry Militiamen all Readied their Spears

Their leader young Jack had commanded all ears, [color=#3CFF77]“there on the distance men, do you see it?” Something on the beach, something inhuman; their search for fairytale creatures had finally paid off.

All were caught off guard, gawking in awe of the strange thing. Chattering amongst themselves the men wondered what to do, in truth they’d never encountered a monster, they had no idea what such a thing was capable of.

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