The Devil's Seas: beyond the World Government's capital of Mariejois lies this stretch of chaotic ocean. Storms of fire and hail of arcing lightning tour the skies while pockets of acid sprays and waves freezing before you eyes tear the sea. Such a living hell was once though impassable, and yet the brave, or foolish, have attempted to traverse it regardless. Now, the ocean serves as the battleground of pirate crews and the excursions of the most formidable Marines in history as they try to tame this sea. But none have made as much ground as the infamous Gol D. Roger, fated to be given the title of Pirate King before his execution in six years time. Though he is rumored to be getting ever closer to the end of the world, this story starts seas away, in much calmer waters... --- Chapter 1: Racket on Recursi Island --- A bright sun, tranquil waters, a calming breeze...nothing less was acceptable on Recursi Island. The 123rd Marine Branch Base stood tall, keeping the docks peaceful, allowing the island to become something of a trade center in the South Blue. However, beyond the bustling port town and dock of workers was the den of competing resorts, eager to please its customers coming to the picturesque isle to relax. However, as the Marines were loudly unloading an important shipment in the civilian docks, deeper in the heart of the port town where the sun didn't shine quite right, a meeting was taking place in one certain basement, lit by numerous candles and a single cigar. Sitting in one large chair, the burning tobacco was clenched between the needle sharp teeth of a large goblin shark fishman with light blue skin, a red and green aloha shirt, tan shirts, and a pudgy stomach, his nose pointed grossly, his beady eyes at the side of his head. A stream of smoke hissing out from his mouth, the fishman asked, "So, wadda ya say, kid? You look tough, and if ya do a good job I might consider letting you on full time. This is a real important trade ya know." Sitting in a small wooden chair across from him, the younger man receiving the offer clicked his tongue, the action making one of the silhouettes behind the fishman stir. The tall horned man, his dark gray hair going to his shoulders, his dark red blazer jostling as he moved, seemed uninterested as he stretched. Tapping the tip of his heavy brown boots on the ground, he grumbled, "Ah, knew it would be a waste of time..." Leaning forwards, the fishman sighed, "Waste of time? Don't try to tell me a scummy looking brat like you in a ratty ship like that has plans here." Glaring, the horned man hissed, "Huh? What's scummy looking about me?" Leaning down a bit to stare the fishman in the eyes, he further grumbled, "And if you say its the horns, I'll lay you flat." From behind the fishman, two burly humans took cautious steps forwards, but their leader didn't budge from his seat. Rolling his cigar in his fingers, he wondered aloud, "Then what are you up to then? Gonna join the Marines? Get a job at one of the resorts?" As if amused by his own prattling, the fishman gave a few wheezy chuckles. Turning to the door behind him, the horned boy explained, "Nah, I'm not gonna let you or anyone else boss me around: I'm a pirate!" The fishman snorted, "You're gonna get someone to get on that floating coffin with you!" Letting out a few roaring laughs, he stomped his feet on the ground as the pirate walked off, heading through the door and up a set of stairs to the alleyways outside. Scratching his head in disappointment, Avalon Bell, would be Captain of the Coal Pirates, grumbled, "Not sure what I expected really..." Wondering where to start next, he made his way forwards, one step at a time.