The Execution Platform
The Execution Platform was in the center of town, a large square where people could gather surrounding it, but no one made use of the square for such purposes. Instead, people went about their day, strolling through as if there was nothing significant about the platform at all. The platform itself was not quite attached to a sort of protruding balcony, erected on the side of a large stone building, supported by stone columns matching those that decorated the exterior of the building itself. It jutted out from the main part of the balcony, a slab of wood which was supported separately by a permanent scaffold. There was no way to the platform from below except to climb the rungs of the scaffold, no ladder in sight.
Leon and Tony felt an aura of emotion, almost seeing what had taken place without having experienced it. The tales of the event mixed with seeing it in person gave a new image of the execution in their minds: Gol D. Roger, Pirate King, the only man to sail to the end of the Grand Line, where he hid his treasure: One Piece. But he turned himself in. The reason was still a mystery to some. The World Government, in an effort to discourage piracy, made an example of Roger, returning him to his home city of Loguetown to be executed publicly.
Leon and Tony could almost see it. Roger, a tall, muscular man, blue button-shirt and tan trousers, held with a yellow sash tied at the waist, a deep red officer coat trimmed with yellow, heft matching epaulets draping the shoulders. The mighty pirate Gol D. Roger bound by the hands, his thick black mustache adorning his unquenchable smile as he knelt to accept his death. A marine executioner at each side, two massive polearms crossing beneath his head, a messy mop of black hair where his hat once sat.
"My wealth and treasures? If you want it, I'll let you have it...search for it! I left all of it at that place."
The words echoed in their minds, and they saw him kneeling there with a vicious smile on his face as the blades fell. Roger’s last words inspired a new age of pirates, flooding the Grand Line with more trouble for the World Government than Roger ever caused by himself.
The street around seemed to dim as Leon and Tony came out of their reverie, the bustle of everyday crowds walking past the tomb of a legend almost uncaring.
Love Love Pirates
Thane and Ben made their way to Love Love Pirates. The shop was packed with all sorts of people, most simply intrigued, but some buying elaborate trinkets, most of which were probably fake, but they looked cool either way.
"ARRR! PIRATES ONLY, YE SCALLAWAGS!" barked the perfect stereotype of a pirate standing at the doorway, scowling at everyone. He had an obviously fake peg-leg, a black eye-patch, a tricorn hat with a generic skull and crossbones, and the most outlandishly colorful mockery of seaman garb, with a bright red long coat.
Everyone chuckled, seeing the reaction of the newcomers. Apparently it was how everyone was greeted upon entering, just a gag to set the atmosphere.
There were glass cases full of shiny things, jewelry and watches, broaches and pins, some set in ivory or fine woods, most gleaming with gold, brass, or silver. One cabinet held navigational equipment, most of which looked like the everyday gear of any sailor, but with shiny bits to justify the exorbitant prices. There were even shipwright tools along the walls, likewise more ornamental than useful.
But as they continued past the fake piratey stuff, the rooms and hallways became less ornamented and more pragmatic in appearance, the quality of the items looking less gaudy but more believable. Old, worn coins from distant islands in the Grand Line, necklaces of shells and stones, more basic but good quality sailing equipment, looms of sturdy rope, the list went on.
Eventually, they found a room that was filled with wooden furniture and other carpentry creations. Ben was stunned to see behind the counter across the room, an intricate carving that was unmistakably made from Spirit Wood. It was a wall-hanging, only the size of a large serving tray, but the intricate craftsmanship was unmistakable. It was in fact
not carved but
grown into the shape, an art of cultivating Spirit Wood growth that Ben had never seen before, even among the sages who taught him to harvest the trees. He knew that they had in ages past sold the wood, but he had never heard of saplings being sent elsewhere, having been under the impression that they were only grown on that one small island.
Thane ventured off down another hall to a room filled with the finest navigation equipment he’d seen in one place. He already had nearly the best equipment money could buy, but the sheer volume of excellent gear was overwhelming. One thing in particular stood out: A small, watch-like compass, a thick bulb of glass set onto a leather wrist-strap, the needle suspended in the middle of the glass. But instead of pointing north, the needle wavered, lazily pointing in other directions. Oddly, it was the more expensive piece of equipment, despite being so simply crafted.
Glove Factory
Ori Kami strolled past a few shops as he walked. He notice something intriguing in the second story window of the Glove Factory, and thought it might warrant a closer look.
[
Private to Ori Kami: Difficult to see unless you know exactly what to look for, a tiny origami flower was nestled in the corner of the window frame. At a glance, anyone else wouldn’t see it standing out from the similarly boxy floral print on the window curtains, but it’s one of several ways that the Order identifies an establishment as having information pipelines.]
As he entered, an elderly woman perked up from behind the counter at the far side of the building.
"Welcome to Glove Factory," she said in a crotchety if aristocratic tone. She looked askance at Ori’s attire, sniffed, and glanced down as if searching for something she had written.
"Ah, yes. The discount wares can be found in the back, if you’d be so kind as to find your way."
She pointed with a pen over her shoulder, to an open doorway. Beyond, racks of unlabeled gloves were stacked along the walls of a windowless room, a small staircase tucked into the back corner past some boxes.
