[Episode] Chapter One: An Author, A woman, and A Quest to Find More!

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Admitting that he’d be leaving had been rougher than he expected, not on his mother, but him. He'd packed what clothes he had, what tools he felt were needed (the heroes and pirates in his fathers books somehow always seemed to be without, surviving with just the clothes on their back and maybe something to pass the time), and the two books that carried him through his  life…but every time he’d try to go towards the door, something would stop him in his tracks. A nagging feeling, as if he forgot something. It had taken about the tenth time to realize what he had forgotten, it not being a material or some sort of mental roadmap, but rather it was a verbal announcement. And soon enough he knew exactly what it was that he was missing. His mother had been there for him from the time he could remember, though his father had been gone on a journey that he fully couldn’t imagine, it was his own mother that had kept his presence there, not only through reading those adventures, but by being the one person in this vast world that he could lean on. And here he was, too worried to step out and tell her that he too would try that very same adventure her own husband had embarked on. That was what was holding him back.

It wouldn’t have taken long to find her, her hands caked from the garden work that she’d done as she smiled the same smile she had all his years, her eyes taking a moment to notice that Julius had his bags in his hand, a cloth sack that she had made for him personally, each beautifully depicting a scene that he had rambled on since he was but able to speak. Julius scratched his neck, his tongue fumbling for the words that he’d been sure he would have been able to recite in the harrowing tales he would tell the children in the wharfs of Orange Town. ‘And with but a solemn but apologetic goodbye, our hero set off to go and find his treasure–’ No, this was quite different from a tale. He’d been saying goodbye to his mother…He wasn’t a hero, yet either…But, he tried to speak, the words coming out with a dry after taste.

[plyr=pirt]“Thank you, Ma, for tellin’ me the stories Pa wrote. I’m sorry I gotta leave ya alone for a bit, but…I…I gotta go experience what he was tellin’ us!”[/plyr]


His ears turned red, a slight reaction when he felt flustered, as he spoke. He couldn’t find any better words, his years of storytelling and lies seemingly disappearing in that instance…

[plyr=pirt]“I’ll be writing though! I promise, just you wait, once ya see me on the books I’ll have gotten just as nice as Pa did!”[/plyr]

He felt saying such could have softened his own blow, hoping that she’d not had reacted like the mothers had acted in stories of warfare he’d read about; arms flailing, tears ruining what would have been a welcoming face, shouts and emotion. But, to his surprise, she continued to simply stare, her smile as big as when he approached her.

[plyr=pirt]“So–So, I’m gonna just go–”[/plyr]


Julius turned to face the open areas of Orange Town, his brown eyes already trying to map out where he’d have to go about starting his newfound journey.

. . .

That was three days ago. Three. Days. Ago.

Now? Well, he roamed the streets of Orange Town, his face haggard with the sun beating down on him and little to do about it. He clutched his hand on his book, the pages slightly worn not from writing, but rather from simply flipping back and forth on what to write on and who to write about.

[plyr=pirt]“AHHHHHHH! DAMMIT, WAS WRITING GONNA BE THIS HARD?!”[/plyr]

A hand went to his head in a sort of cartoonish anguish as he ruffled his hair like mad, both anger and embarrassment bubbling in him like a pot ready to blow. He'd been wandering about this place for days. Days! And yet not one thing could have inspired him to write once. What sort of journey would his characters have if he couldn’t get off the damn island in the first place? He refused to step back home especially after what he thought was his tearful goodbye to his mother, and so his pride was on the line! In his anguish, the lad took a step back into the markets of the town, head cast low but eyes forever looking about. He had spent days wandering the markets, trying to find something or anything that would get him started on this godforsaken journey, and yet it was the same boring people here! The same fishermen who seemed to hike up the prices once they found out that their next customer was loaded, the same fruit woman who always gave him an extra apple, and a woman who seemed to have been carrying a sheathed sword to her side in the middle of the market…Nothing really to catch his attention…

Julius was about to take his pathway back to the beaten road he could have almost made with the amount of trudging he did, when he did a double take. Wait. Cheap Fisherman, Sweet Fruitswoman, and a swordswoman—. Something definitely willing to catch his attention. His focus zoned in on the blacksmith woman, from her stature to her sheathed blade. Julius changed course, curious what in the world she could have had such a thing for, especially for the market.

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"Soul Iron? Never heard of it."

"What the heck is Soul Iron?"

"Is this some sort of prank? Go bother someone else with your nonsense!"

Everywhere Anne La Tene went, the answers were generally the same. She dragged herself up and down the East Blue, visiting dozens upon dozens of blacksmiths and even curio shops. She used up any favors she had with her comrades in the New Revolutionary Army, who were done transporting her from island to island for her noble yet very personal mission. She had to spend the last few months traveling in rented vehicles, chartering ships, and taking long treks by foot.

However, time after time, she could only find disappointment. It seemed as if she was on a wild goose chase, looking for any information on this elusive mineral, and Orange Town appeared to be no different. She was weighed down by more than just her heavy toolbelt and sheathed sword. Physical weight this light was nothing to her. The emotional weight was a burden that never seemed to lighten.

It was no matter, though. Anne would simply shrug it off, pretending she did not feel it, as she has done many times before. On the one hand, she had been on her quest for a long time, which was disheartening. On the other hand, she had been on her quest for a long time - what's a few more tries in comparison? She must be on the tail end of her journey by now!

With that reassuring thought, she cracked her neck and left a shop, wandering through Orange Town to find her next destination, be it smithy or store. While she did, she took in the sights and sounds. Every town, city, or village she has been to has had its own unique 'flavor,' and she wanted to experience them all. Perhaps there was even a gambling parlor or a gym here!

However, that seemed unlikely, or at least Anne was having no luck finding such places. It was no sprawling metropolis, with many of its buildings being "quaint" and "old-fashioned" compared to the bigger and more "powerful" cities, and many farms acted as a transition between the outskirts. However, it was not the small, quiet town she was expecting, either. There was a moderate amount of hustle and bustle, clacking of cobblestone traffic and audible conversations. When she heard it was Orange Town, she was imagining it to be a couple villages large, not the large port city that it was. She would need a guide to find any hotspots she would like to visit.

Perhaps that guy staring at her might be of assistance. Anne gave a small, friendly wave and nod, smiling at him. As he approached her, she tried to match his speed to meet him in the middle.

"Hello friend," Anne said calmly and with just a tinge of cheerfulness. Her body language was relaxed, and she had a soft smile, but her hazel eyes had a hint of sharpness to them. "At least, I hope we're friends, the way you seem to have taken an interest in me. I'd hate to think I made an enemy just by walking around."

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It wouldn't be long before she had noticed his intrusive stare, deciding to confront him directly! She'd met the man halfway towards the destination, allowing him to actually take in her strange appearance fully: messy overalls that had seemed worn thanks to whatever profession she had, goggles that covered her face in a sort of cyclops manner, and even having an inch or three in height over him! She definitely did not fit the monotonous tone of the place he'd grown up in...No, she had to have been new! When they finally had met in the middle of the market center, she made it quick to give a welcoming smile, easy to have the lad lower his guard.

[plyr=pirt]"No need to worry, you've made no enemy here, I would hope.”[/plyr]

His voice had been polite, something his mother had instilled in him regardless of who he had spoken to. He mimicked her smile with his own toothy one, a welcoming one to also allude that he too wasn’t trying to be a threat, less she presented herself to be one. It wasn’t long for him to grasp onto his chance to speak about her appearance though, the oddity of it only fueling the curiosity the author had.

[plyr=pirt]“And apologies for the question from the get-go, but you don’t seem to be from here, huh? I mean, not many locals walk ‘round 'ere with swords strapped to their side.”[/plyr]

He cocked his head to the side, those mischievous brown eyes observing and taking subtle glances. She couldn’t have not expected the question though! The town folk of Orange Town had had a plain appearance, and while she may have thought her garb was normal for a blacksmith, there were few who were bold enough to carry their weaponry around in broad daylight. The boy gave her a moment to gather her thoughts, he knew too many questions in such a rapid time would have only scared the sane people off.

[plyr=pirt]“Ah, and if I didn’t tell ya’, Julius is the name. Julius Verne.”[/plyr]

That should have been the first thing he should have said, but he wouldn’t admit that currently he was hoping that the change of pace with just one person called for questions first, and introductions later. In that moment of his introduction, he extended a hand, hoping she’d shake it.

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While the curious man was sizing her up, Anne was doing the same to him. He did not seem like a threat - not just because she had a couple inches of height and some muscle over him, nor because she had a sword and he appeared unarmed. After all, appearances could be deceiving. He could be a master of martial arts, or have a weapon hidden on his person. She would definitely keep her guard up.

The reason Anne did not feel he was a threat was more of a 'vibe' she got from him. He did not have a threatening 'aura', nor did he have that vaguely 'seedy' look that many of the criminals she met did. This in itself was not proof, and she knew it. However, his words of not being enemies rang true, and his smile seemed genuine, without malice behind it. Her eyes - once holding a subtle glare - slightly softened their gaze, and her smile - although if it visibly changed, it was near unnoticeable - now gave off a friendly warmth that may not have been there before.

"I am so glad to hear that. Having potential friends is quite important. Is that why you were looking at me like that, or may I be of some assistance?"

After the man pointed out that Anne did not look like she was around here, she glanced slightly to the left of him as the tiniest of blushes tried to light up her tanned face. She must have walked around, sticking out like a sore thumb, for quite some time now. Maybe that was why she got such a reception in some of the stores! She needed to be less conspicuous! She quickly regained what composure she lost, letting out a tiny chuckle.

"Hm, you are right. I am most definitely not from around here. I'm actually pretty lost, to be honest. But the sword... do not worry. I have no plans using it. I have just been in some dangerous cities, and it is best to be prepared. Besides..." Was that the hint of a grin? Her eyes gave away what her almost-stoic expression did not: pride. "I made this sword myself."

When Jules introduced himself, Anne quickly accepted his extended hand in a very firm handshake. "Anne La Tene, wandering blacksmith, at your service. It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. It seems like you might have some questions for me. I will try to answer them, if you answer some in return."

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[plyr=pirt]"I can only agree with your statement about friends, but as for why I was looking, I actually was trying to see what had ya' sticking out like such a sore thumb...No need to get all embarrassed, trust, many have gotten lost and I’ve let a lot rely on me for information of the place."[/plyr]

That was a slight lie. He was much more interested in two things from her already, the fact that she had already been a nomad and clearly had been across the sea before, and the fact that she had that sword on her. But that wouldn't get him in trouble, those were harmless lies, however, it was also technically the truth...He did happen to see that she was quite the unlucky tourist, the only thing was that she was the first tourist he had interacted with. Luckily however, she had elaborated quickly on her sword, the fact that she had made it herself was pretty impressive, and he noticed the pride that had been laced in her admittance. His eyes wandered to the sheathed blade for a moment, hoping he could at least get a glance at the work she had. So, she was a wandering blacksmith...That would have made a lot more sense now that he could piece her together. Anne's offer to answer questions was met with a sort of eager acceptance.

[plyr=pirt]"Nice to meet ya' Anne La Tene, the Wandering Blacksmith. It's definitely a name you'd find in a storybook huh... Think I'll call ya just La Tene instead, something pretty to say wouldn't ya think?"[/plyr]

He put his hand to his chin, playfully contemplating what could have been a story to such a name. Why was she wandering? Was she someone who maybe gave swords to mercenaries? Maybe she had honed her craft along with a sort of master of some sorts. Maybe she had been a nomad simply, drifting where the wind took her... But none of the answers could have satisfied him enough to have warranted such a reaction from him that would be close to adequate. His writer's block seemed to grow larger in size...he could even start to write when even the most interesting of people seemed to fall right into his lap, and he fumbled to get a start on his own way of getting their backstory together.

[plyr=pirt]"Name is Julius, standard lad you'd find round these parts though a lot more thrill seeking. While I'm definitely not as cool as a wandering blacksmith, I am an author. Ya' know, the people who write books, and plays, and the newspaper an' all that, but I guess I can't call myself much one till I actually write one. But enough about me for now...Since you offered to answer some questions, I'll ask ya first. So, what made ya come here, wanderin ‘round, La Tene. I’ll admit, there isn’t much interestin’ in this place, 'less you want to either try to make it work with just what you’ve got."[/plyr]

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Of all the people Anne could have run into, she was lucky to have met someone known for helping others who were lost. At least by his words, he was. There were even odds that he was as helpful a guide as he claimed to be, or that he was looking for an easy mark from out of town for various reasons - none of which that came to mind happened to end in her favor. However, she had a strangely good feeling about him - and an honest man who genuinely wants to help out a stranger would be a rare find not worth missing out on. While she was usually guarded, it would not do to be too guarded.

Anne felt pride swell up inside of her as she noticed Julius’ admiration for her sword. While the blade itself was hidden in its scabbard, the ornate hilt was visible. The handle had a clean leather wrap, capped with an elliptical black pommel with copper-gold stripes, and its guard was made of the same type of material in a swept honeycomb-like basket hilt. Every bit of visible metal gleamed, well taken care of.

Anne giggled at Julius’ compliment of her name. ”Quite the charmer, aren’t you? If you find beauty in my name, by all means, call me La Tene.” Was that his game? Was he just trying to flirt with her? La Tene did not have time for that, but she’d humor him for the sake of his help. She would put up with it, if it meant having a local’s help.

A storywriter, huh? Perhaps that was the reason Julius was interested in the mysterious stranger. ”Nice to meet you Julius,” La Tene said. ”Even if you have not completed a work, as long as you have put pen to paper even once, with the goal of eventually completing a masterwork, then I consider you a writer.”

It was La Tene’s turn to answer questions as she had promised. How much should she tell him? The basic truth shouldn’t hurt. The “what” should suffice; no reason to give the “why” to a stranger. ”I have been searching far and wide for something called ‘soul iron.’ Both the material and how to work with it. The truth is, it is beautiful and has all sorts of rumors about it, but it is basically useless - despite the demands for blades made out of it. How am I supposed to satisfy customers and clients who want ‘soul iron’ swords when I neither have ‘soul iron’ or the ability to forge with it? So I wander, picking up skills here and there, setting up temporary forges to keep up funds, while I hunt for my destination.”

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