The Makings of Infamy

Temporarily ignoring the slaver pirates, Morn continued down the main road to the village square. He would attempt to rescue the slaves, but he could only do so once he had recovered from his overuse of Vaihniir. He planned to look at the bounty board, which would likely be in the central square of the village, and learn his target's name. Then, he'd ask around as subtly as he could to prepare a plan of action.

Though he could likely kill the target with just his Alkimiya skills, that was only if the target was a mortal- Morn stopped his train of thought as something occurred to him.

'Did I just use the word mortal as if I am not mortal? Since when did I start thinking like that…' Morn shivered, 'It must be the vaihniir, perhaps overusing it can harm more than just my body.'

After contemplating the changes in his mentality that had previously gone unnoticed, Morn picked up his plan and continued into the village square. The square wasn't quite as large as the one in Tyrvoh, but it was still a decent size. A small stall-market was setup around the square's perimeter, with space left in the middle for a well, the bounty board, and a small raised wooden stage.

Currently, villagers roamed about the square, making purchases from the various stalls. The place smelled like sundry herbs, meats, and other delicacies. This was due to a row of stalls dedicated to selling foods of all kinds. If he hadn't eaten only an hour prior, Morn would have visited the stalls for an early lunch- the middlemost stall was selling one of his favourite Palkian foods, fried chicken.

Managing his cravings, Morn set aside the thought of fried chicken and made his way to the bounty board. Only a few people were standing by the bounty board, and none of them appeared to be pirates. As he approached, he heard their discussion.

"14 people in less than a day, one even being killed in front of their captain without being seen… Terrifying." A teenage boy summarised a particular bounty detail to an old man with similar looks, likely the pair were grandfather and grandson.

The grandfather echoed the boy's opinion, "Indeed, quite terrifying. I have to wonder where this Rain character came from, I've never heard of him or his crew before today. It seems like he had some kind of bone to pick with Franta's crew, else why would he slaughter his whole crew overnight."

Morn sidled his way over to the bounty board, standing next to the pair. Unable to help himself, he glanced at the bounty board, quickly locating a portrait of himself in the outfit and mask he wore as Rain. The bounty description read:

'Captain Rain,

Crew: Unknown.

Ship: Unknown.

Origin: Unknown.

Bounty: One Gold Ral.

Bounty issuer(s): Captain Franta, Self-Issued.

Bounty details: The masked pirate, self identified as Rain, killed 14 pirates in less than a single night. One of such pirates was killed in the presence of Franta himself, without Rain ever being seen by him or his companions. The bounties of the men were transferred to Rain's bounty of his own accord, and the rest was posted by Franta who vowed to increase the bounty by 5 silver line every week that Rain remains alive.'

Morn smiled after reading the bounty, one golden Ral… that was the same as ten silver line, or a hundred lint. That amount of money could buy ten full meals at Yol's most expensive restaurant. A moment passed before Morn broke free from his daydream of expensive cuisine and continued to look at the bounty board.

After a minute of skimming the sketches, he finally found his target. The bald pirate was known as Captain Vield. In the bounty description, he was also known under the nickname "Florist," as plants seemed to bend to his will. Morn stared at the description, a sense of relief flashing through his mind:

'It seems the enemy is also a Leviathan, I'm glad I didn't recklessly try to hunt him before I recovered…'

Morn let out a sigh, mentally adding another point to his list of rules, "6. Do not hunt a target without first making preparations and doing an investigation."

As Morn was having an internal dialogue, the old man next to him looked over. Seeing Morn's slightly startled expression, and following his line of sight, he laughed gently.

"You seem shocked, are you surprised about the Florist's ability? You must be a foreigner- Pirates have all sorts of mysterious secrets that people like us stand no chance against. If you have any thoughts of bounty hunting, I suggest you quell that idea."

Morn, pulled from his thoughts by the voice, stared at the Old man. After a second to process the man's words, he smiled awkwardly.

"Indeed, I had no clue there were people like that in this world… A man like this 'Florist' must not be scared of anything, eh?"

The old man laughed once again, "I wouldn't go that far, everyone has some fears. I've heard that, perhaps on account of his fondness for plantlife, the Florist is quite afraid of fire. Whether that's true or not, however, I have no evidence. Regardless, it's no use to us common folk. Even with that bit of gossip, I doubt we could harm a hair on his head…"

The old man trailed off as he remembered the pirate's baldness. The man scratched his head awkwardly, silence falling for a moment before it was broken by Morn.

"... I get what you mean- even if your choice of words was a little unfortunate." Morn smiled at the old man, grateful for the information.

'If this Florist is afraid of fire, it's about time the world sees him burn.'

After exchanging small talk for another minute, Morn departed from the Old man's side. His mind began to churn as a plan took shape. Morn cackled maliciously under his breath as he walked, drawing strange looks from the nearby villagers. His face reddened at the villagers' stares.

Morn began to speed walk through the town, only slowing after breaking line of sight from the villagers. After taking a deep breath, Morn shook off his embarrassment and began wandering the village. By the time he finished exploring, his stomach was growling in hunger.

Thankfully, during his exploration, he found a quaint but calm restaurant. Returning to the restaurant, Morn found a seat inside and ordered some stew and a chunk of bread. After paying a small sum, he dug into his meal, enjoying the creaminess of the broth. When he finished his meal, he called the waiter over.

"What can I do for you, sir."

The waiter stood next to Morn's table dressed in casual Palkian clothes with the addition of a shortened apron. His expression showed enthusiasm, but his eyes betrayed his boredom- clearly he didn't enjoy his job.

Morn turned the waiter, smiling genially as he twirled a Lint in his hand.. It was important to note that a single lint was about a month's earnings for the average waiter, as such, the waiter eyed the currency with a look of avarice. Seeing he had the waiter's attention, Morn began his inquiry.

"Do you perhaps know where the Florist and his crew stay?"

Upon hearing Morn's words, the waiter seemed to grow anxious, though the look of greed remained plastered across his features.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'd rather not discuss the whereabouts of someone like that, and you best not eithe-"

The waiter interrupted himself as Morn withdrew five more Lint from his pocket. His eyes widened as greed took over. That was six months' pay! With that and his current savings, he could quit his job and move to Suhl-vel, a dream he had always maintained. Who would ever find out he'd told this stranger about the Florist, he certainly wouldn't tell anyone!

His anxiety relieved by greed, the waiter smiled at Morn and leaned forward. The waiter began to speak, his voice barely audible above the ambient noise:

"If you head towards the coast down the main road for about ten minutes, you'll find a large white tree. A few false bushes conceal a dirt path that will take you to an old cabin. The cabin used to be owned by a wealthy jeweller, but it fell into his… some kind of distant relative's possession when he died at Sea under unknown circumstances. A day later, the Florist and his crew swooped in, purchasing it for cheap from the relative– who it turns out, used to be friends with the Florist. Now you didn't hear it from me, but everyone knows the jeweller's death wasn't an accident. That guy's trouble, not to mention those freakish powers of his. I'm not you, but I wouldn't cross him."

Satisfied, Morn passed the money to the waiter, "Thanks for the concern, but I'm just curious– I don't have any plans of crossing him." Morn grinned, as if to show his 'innocence.'

The waiter ignored Morn, walking briskly away to help another customer, tucking the money into his back pocket as he walked. When he turned so that Morn could no longer see him, the waiter rolled his eyes. 'As if someone would spend six Lint out of curiosity…'

With his meal finished and the information he was seeking obtained, Morn left the restaurant in high spirits. After finding his way through the city, he rented a cheap room for two nights at a small inn, then set off to take a look at the Florist's cabin…