Post by Eldrin/Vai on May 5, 2012 14:10:00 GMT -6
The sun wavered in the sky, distorted by the heat rising out of the sands. A lone figure crossed these sands, his footsteps lost to the shifting sands. The thief, Eldrin, bumbled along cheerfully. He hummed a simple tune that he had been taught in thanks for buying a couple of drinks. Of course, the old man that taught him the tune hadn't known that Eldrin was buying him drinks with stolen money. Money stolen from the old man himself.
Currently, Eldrin was fleeing the Gerudo Fortress, though he more seemed to be taking a stroll across the desert. For once, he had no loot. Shockingly, he had left the fortress with nothing he had not come with. Why was he fleeing? Because Nadeana was batshit insane. Her guards were vicious. They had tried to kill him for a bit of harmless flirtation and a fistfight.
The thief held a half-empty bottle of rum and a rolled-up treasure map. From his belt hung an empty water flask and a spare bottle of rum. The two clacked together almost to the beat of his humming. It seemed even the crunch of sand under his feet was some type of strange instrument. It wasn't long before the thief was swaying along, jamming out to his own tune.
In the distance, Eldrin spotted the unmistakable shimmer of sunlight on water. The thief had traversed the desert enough to know the difference between a mirage and a legitimate body of water. Eldrin tried to lick his lips in anticipation, but only succeeded in licking the sand coating them. Then followed about three minutes of spitting out sand and washing his tongue off with rum. When he had finished, Eldrin jumped to his feet and ran for the water. The thief came upon a small oasis, and wasted no time in splashing into the water. He left his map and rum safely on the edge of the water, but took the flask.
Eldrin washed all of the sand and assorted filth from his body, enjoying the cool water hitting his skin. He soaked in the water for a good while before returning to the banks.
The thief laid his equipment out in front of him for evaluation and sorting, for he mood for organization. Three throwing knives, seven marble-sized bombs, his cutlass, a grappling hook, Avarice, one and a half bottles of rum, a full flask of water, his dagger, and the map. He figured he was pretty well prepared. Ready for anything really. Except anything he wasn't ready for. Was that logic redundant? Of course it was. He stared at his fingers for a long time. They were long and thin, rough skin riddled with burns. Burns that he shouldn't have. He wondered if he was the only one to notice. His cheap tricks weren't all that convincing, but when people already believe something it's not hard to keep them in that belief.
In truth, Eldrin had lost his powers back during the Calamity Incident. The day Epiny had betrayed them and stole his powers for Calamity. Everybody thought he had regained his powers shortly after, a thought he encouraged. His powers were gone, and he had no one to blame. Sure, Epiny turned him over to Calamity, but she had died. How was he supposed to be mad at a dead friend? Instead, he had went on, pretending to have his old powers. But sleight of hand could only carry him so far. His body was already riddled with burn scars from even the most minuscule mistakes. And he knew that someday he would actually need his powers, or perhaps his friends would. He dreaded that day, the day his charade ended.
He toyed with Avarice. It was his only true weapon. The cutlass was mostly for show, seeing as he didn't know a thing about swordplay. The dagger was more for utility. He had throwing knives, but terrible aim. The bombs were more of a prop, he used them to feign fire powers. The steel blades of the gauntlet reflected the sun back into his eyes as he tilted them. They were meant for quick, critical blows, yet he used them mainly for intimidation or to administer sedatives. Perhaps he wasn't violent enough, he wondered... Maybe he'd lost himself somewhere along the way or maybe he hadn't ever found himself in the first place. It was a strange thought, and a sad one.
The thief was snapped out of his thoughts by the crunching of sand underfoot. He looked up to see a Gerudo woman dressed for travel leading a great white horse laden with luggage. For a moment he did not recognize the woman as her mouth and nose were covered by a light blue veil. But as she grew closer he realized who she was.
"Ranim?" he asked, bewildered, "Remember me? You gave me this." Eldrin held up Avarice for her to see.
The woman did not speak, but instead lead her horse to the water and let it drink. Eldrin noticed that the scimitar hanging on the horse's saddle had a small amount of dried blood on it.
"Remember, you smashed that warden chick's face in?" he said, before his eyes widened. He recalled what Namira had said about cutting out Ranim's tongue. "Oh yeah," he muttered, wincing at the thought of it.
Ranim left her horse and sat down cross-legged in the sand next to him. She said nothing, but her eyes smiled at him.
"Rum?" Eldrin offered, tipping his bottle toward her with a finger.
Ranim hesitated, obviously not wanting to remove her veil. Her eyes met Eldrin's, and the warm light in his made her smile. She tugged the veil down so that it covered her neck instead and her mouth was revealed. She pressed the bottle to her lips and took a swig. Then another. Then another. Then Eldrin snatched the bottle out of her hands, muttering, "Alcoholic..." They stared at each other for moment, then both burst into laughter.
They spent the rest of the day messing around in their awkward way and talking. Eldrin even wrote 'Yes' and 'No' in the sand, so she could answer him. When the sun finally sank below the horizon, they lay together, sharing body heat to ward off the cold of the desert night.
The next morning, Eldrin woke before Ranim. He gathered up his gear and readied himself to leave. Of course, he considered staying, perhaps traveling with her. But ultimately, he knew that he couldn't. He couldn't take being tied down the way he knew he would be with her. He was a free soul, he always had been. She needed somebody to take care of her, but he could hardly take care of himself.
Under the 'Yes' and 'No' from the night before, he wrote:
He left her the last bottle of rum, and stole her horse. He'd never liked goodbyes anyway. And the anger would soften the blow. He had been nice enough to leave her scimitar though, stabbing it into the ground next to the bottle. Riding the horse across the desert was not particularly easy, as its hooves relentlessly sank into the sands. He could now see why Ranim had been leading it rather than riding it.
Though it was a slow journey, Eldrin eventually made it to the location marked on the map. After digging (with a shovel he found among Ranim's supplies) for a while, the thief discover an old wooden chest. The chest was full of rocks. Just rocks. Not even the valuable kind. Just rocks. "Just rocks," the thief groaned.
On his return, the thief pointedly skirted the oasis, avoiding the area completely. Suddenly, the sound of swords clashing filled the quiet desert air. Then they fell quiet, and several Gerudo fled the oasis.
Ranim!
His heart beat wildly. What if she was... He couldn't let her. Ushering the horse forward, Eldrin galloped full speed toward the oasis, his eyes wide with panic. Water splashed around the horse's hooves as Eldrin jumped off of the saddle. A decapitated Gerudo lay at his feet, her head floating in the water. Another leaned against a boulder, ran through with Ranim's scimitar still protruding from her chest. The bottle was shattered, the rum wasted. A cloud of dust in the direction of the Gerudo Fortress told him where she was taken and who had taken her. Eldrin jumped into the saddle of Ranim's horse, his eyes blazing with fury.
The thief arrived at the fortress in good time and charged the first Gerudo he saw. "Where the hell is she?!" He demanded, slamming her against a wall.
The Gerudo did not seem at all surprised. On the contrary, she seemed amused. "Hello Eldrin." A savage headbutt sent him sprawling in the sand. By the time he returned to his feet, the Gerudo leg swiped him back down. With a snarl, Eldrin sprang from where he lay, pouncing on top of the Gerudo. They both slammed to the ground with a thud. The Gerudo suddenly found it not quite as fun to resist when his dagger was pressed against her throat.
"I'm not playing around, Zahrah!" He snarled.
"Who the hell are you even talking about?! Fucking psychop-"
Eldrin silenced her with the most fierce look she had ever seen. "Ranim!" he growled.
"The mute?! Oh, by Ganon, you're stupid! We were trying to save her! Namira and Basira revolted with a small band of followers. The rebellion was put down, but they survived. They escaped into the desert like the cowards they truly are. When they heard that Ranim was still in the desert, they planned to kill her. But We decided to welcome her back, since she was an enemy of Namira. We sent out a small team to rescue her, but they were too late... Ranim is probably already at their camp." Zahrah explained, rolling her eyes at the thief's mistake.
"Then we need to get moving!" Eldrin announced, helping her to her feet. He walked toward Ranim's horse as she dusted herself off.
"Are you out of your mind?!" she asked, slightly indignant.
"Slightly, but I'll need a guide, right?" he asked, climbing into the saddle.
She crossed her arms and stared at him. "You just attacked me... Give me one reason to help you."
"You'll help me cause I'm just that charming," he said with wink, then held out a hand to help her up.
"Idiot," she muttered, snatching her long-bladed assegai off of the ground. Yet she accepted his hand and climbed up behind him on the saddle.
As they rode across the desert, the sands seem to harden under the horses hooves, speeding their journey along greatly.
"Sand-shifter, huh? Just like Nadeana."
"Who do you think I learned it from?"
"Didn't take her as the teaching type."
"Maybe I'm just special..."
The horse stopped suddenly, rearing back. Eldrin and Zahrah slammed into the sand hard. The horse charged at something in a wild fury. Eldrin sat up just in time to see a three arrows strike the horse in the neck. With a savage whimper, the horse crashed to the ground and tumbled in a cloud of sand.
"Damn it!" Zahrah yelled. She jumped to her feet and readied herself for battle. Two Gerudo charged at them, while an archer stood back, aiming at them.
But Eldrin noticed none of this. He had just stood up when he noticed. His eye were fixated on one sight only, and he saw nothing else. "No... No... She can't!" But his voice wouldn't come out.
A tall tree loomed over the desert, dead from the heat. It seemed to be unnatural in the barren desert. It rose out of the sand like a hand of hell, bursting through to claim a victim. And hanging from one of its finger-like branches, a Gerudo in traveling clothes. Her body swayed in the breeze by a thick rope.
A dull thud hit his stomach. A choking sensation in his throat. And a burning in his eyes. His knees hit the sand, too weak to stand. Fingers running through his hair, his own. He closed his eyes as a single tear escaped.
"No..." His voice seemed to echo, and that was all he could hear. He watched as Zahrah ran soundlessly through the sand. Her assegai made no sound as she hurled it through the air. The first Gerudo fell silently, spasming violently with the assegai protruding from her chest. An arrow soared past Zahrah's head, barely missing. Zahrah held out her hand, and the archer fell into a sinkhole with a silent scream. The last Gerudo swung at Zahrah with a scimitar. Zahrah caught her hand. In a spinning motion, she twisted the scimitar out of the other's hand and slashed her throat. She dropped the scimitar by its owner, and retrieved her own weapon.
He had let this happen. If he hadn't taken her horse. If he had stayed with her. His mind raced with a million reasons why this was his fault. He had failed her. And he could never forgive himself. For letting her die. For letting himself get attached. For caring for anybody else. For being a fool. He hated himself.
"Hey. Hey!" Zahrah was yelling at him. And suddenly he realized he could hear again. His eyes opened and he could see again. The taste of sand. The smell of sweat and blood. The hot air on his skin. "Don't you cry, you damn fool!" She snarled harshly. "How dare you dishonor a Gerudo warrior with tears?!" Her face was one of pure fury. "She is dead. Tears will not bring her back. But steel can avenge her!
Eldrin stared in shock. Zahrah held out her hand for him, and he took it. He rose shakily from the sand. Zahrah was right. There was only one way to fix his mistake. "You know, Ranim gave me these claws a long time ago, but I haven't yet killed a single person with them... How fitting would it be for Namira to be their first victim?"
"And Basira must also die for her crimes against her Gerudo sisters." Zahrah asserted, thumping the ground assertively with her assegai.
"But first... She should be put to rest."
The two of them cut Ranim down and, through much labor, buried the fallen Gerudo in a shallow grave. Eldrin's cutlass marked the headstone. Her funeral was a simple affair. No flowers. No tears. Not even a eulogy. Afterward, Zahrah searched the horse for any supplies they could take. Eldrin scavenged four Deku Nuts from one of the Gerudo. Then they set out toward the last known location of Namira and Basira's camp.
They arrived at the camp just as the sun began its slow descent from the sky. The camp was large, housing at least 90 Gerudo, most of them exiles who were recruited after Namira and Basira's insurrection. But a few, those now regarded as captains, had been with them from the beginning. In addition, about 40 bandits from the surrounding areas had been hired as mercenaries. These men were more than happy to be in a camp full of beautiful women, the Gerudo were less amused. All in all, the camp consisted of three rings of tents with a large tent for Namira and Basira in the center. The mercenary bandits and the lowest ranking Gerudo were stationed in the outermost ring, the majority of the Gerudo lived in the second ring, and the Gerudo captains in the third and innermost ring. The large tent that housed the leaders was segregated into three parts, the left side for Namira, the right for Basira, and the center served as a center of command for their forces. At the time, most of the Gerudo and bandits were sitting outside their tents, mingling near small campfires and getting as drunk as they could manage, or else sharpening their weapons and training vigorously.
"So... We're dead." Eldrin groaned, collapsing back behind the sand dune they were perched upon.
Zahrah shook her head. She was sitting like a cat ready to pounce. With the eyes of a predator, she watched her foes. She lived for battle, she thrived upon it. Her hair was cut short, shorter than Eldrin's. It was just another weakness to her. Too often did Gerudo have their long hair pulled in battle. Her body was long, lithe and lean, like that of a leopard. The only ornamentation that she wore were two bangles and a bellybutton ring. Legend had it that she came out of the womb with a mouthfull of blood and flesh. Her mother later died of internal bleeding. She had been raised by the Gerudo. Her loyalty was fierce, and not corrupted by personal desire. She was a Gerudo warrior through and through. "No, we'll win this!" she snapped without looking at him. "If only we had reinforcements, we could use a distraction, then focus a particularly brutal strike on a different area. Then we could push through to Namira and Basira, kill those whores, and bring their heads back to Nadeana!" She explained her plan eagerly, as if she couldn't wait to put it into action.
"Great plan! One problem though, sweetheart. No reinforcements..." Eldrin replied, gnawing on an apple that they had taken from Ranim's supplies.
"Don't ever call me 'sweetheart' again!" She snarled viciously.
Eldrin smirked devilishly. "Yes, darling."
Zahrah bared her teeth at the word 'darling', but she let it slide. "What about your friends?" She asked, exasperatedly.
"Whaddaya mean?" Eldrin asked, spraying a mouthful of apple as he spoke.
"Every time you come to the fortress you're never alone. You're hardly ever even on your own business. It usually seems like you're constantly following other people around, getting into their business as if you belong."
Eldrin smiled fondly at the thought of his friends, but his eyes possessed a forlorn serenity. "Haven't seen much of them lately..." He missed them to tell the truth, but the less he saw them, the less chance they noticed his missing powers.
"But they always show up, don't they? Always there to save the day like the cliche heroes that they try so hard not to be." Zahrah asked, staring at the thief.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that. But sometimes there's no saving the day. Sometimes the bad guys win."
"But not today." Zahrah stood up, leaning on her assegai like it was a staff. She looked at the camp below.
"You're really gonna fight alone?"
"Until my people are redeemed."
"Well then," the thief muttered. He chucked the apple core into the desert. It soared a long way, then bounced and landed in the sand. "Let's get started." Eldrin rose to his feet, tightening Avarice around his forearm. He slid his dagger from its scabbard and held it in a backhand grip. The thief and the guard looked at each other, then nodded.
The first Gerudo didn't even see it coming. The second saw her comrade fall before she was killed herself, Zahrah's assegai plunging into her gut. A bandit jumped to his feet, but Eldrin's throwing knife hit his throat seconds later. In moments, they were surrounded by enemies.
"Any plans?"
"Don't die."
"Good one."
Currently, Eldrin was fleeing the Gerudo Fortress, though he more seemed to be taking a stroll across the desert. For once, he had no loot. Shockingly, he had left the fortress with nothing he had not come with. Why was he fleeing? Because Nadeana was batshit insane. Her guards were vicious. They had tried to kill him for a bit of harmless flirtation and a fistfight.
The thief held a half-empty bottle of rum and a rolled-up treasure map. From his belt hung an empty water flask and a spare bottle of rum. The two clacked together almost to the beat of his humming. It seemed even the crunch of sand under his feet was some type of strange instrument. It wasn't long before the thief was swaying along, jamming out to his own tune.
In the distance, Eldrin spotted the unmistakable shimmer of sunlight on water. The thief had traversed the desert enough to know the difference between a mirage and a legitimate body of water. Eldrin tried to lick his lips in anticipation, but only succeeded in licking the sand coating them. Then followed about three minutes of spitting out sand and washing his tongue off with rum. When he had finished, Eldrin jumped to his feet and ran for the water. The thief came upon a small oasis, and wasted no time in splashing into the water. He left his map and rum safely on the edge of the water, but took the flask.
Eldrin washed all of the sand and assorted filth from his body, enjoying the cool water hitting his skin. He soaked in the water for a good while before returning to the banks.
The thief laid his equipment out in front of him for evaluation and sorting, for he mood for organization. Three throwing knives, seven marble-sized bombs, his cutlass, a grappling hook, Avarice, one and a half bottles of rum, a full flask of water, his dagger, and the map. He figured he was pretty well prepared. Ready for anything really. Except anything he wasn't ready for. Was that logic redundant? Of course it was. He stared at his fingers for a long time. They were long and thin, rough skin riddled with burns. Burns that he shouldn't have. He wondered if he was the only one to notice. His cheap tricks weren't all that convincing, but when people already believe something it's not hard to keep them in that belief.
In truth, Eldrin had lost his powers back during the Calamity Incident. The day Epiny had betrayed them and stole his powers for Calamity. Everybody thought he had regained his powers shortly after, a thought he encouraged. His powers were gone, and he had no one to blame. Sure, Epiny turned him over to Calamity, but she had died. How was he supposed to be mad at a dead friend? Instead, he had went on, pretending to have his old powers. But sleight of hand could only carry him so far. His body was already riddled with burn scars from even the most minuscule mistakes. And he knew that someday he would actually need his powers, or perhaps his friends would. He dreaded that day, the day his charade ended.
He toyed with Avarice. It was his only true weapon. The cutlass was mostly for show, seeing as he didn't know a thing about swordplay. The dagger was more for utility. He had throwing knives, but terrible aim. The bombs were more of a prop, he used them to feign fire powers. The steel blades of the gauntlet reflected the sun back into his eyes as he tilted them. They were meant for quick, critical blows, yet he used them mainly for intimidation or to administer sedatives. Perhaps he wasn't violent enough, he wondered... Maybe he'd lost himself somewhere along the way or maybe he hadn't ever found himself in the first place. It was a strange thought, and a sad one.
The thief was snapped out of his thoughts by the crunching of sand underfoot. He looked up to see a Gerudo woman dressed for travel leading a great white horse laden with luggage. For a moment he did not recognize the woman as her mouth and nose were covered by a light blue veil. But as she grew closer he realized who she was.
"Ranim?" he asked, bewildered, "Remember me? You gave me this." Eldrin held up Avarice for her to see.
The woman did not speak, but instead lead her horse to the water and let it drink. Eldrin noticed that the scimitar hanging on the horse's saddle had a small amount of dried blood on it.
"Remember, you smashed that warden chick's face in?" he said, before his eyes widened. He recalled what Namira had said about cutting out Ranim's tongue. "Oh yeah," he muttered, wincing at the thought of it.
Ranim left her horse and sat down cross-legged in the sand next to him. She said nothing, but her eyes smiled at him.
"Rum?" Eldrin offered, tipping his bottle toward her with a finger.
Ranim hesitated, obviously not wanting to remove her veil. Her eyes met Eldrin's, and the warm light in his made her smile. She tugged the veil down so that it covered her neck instead and her mouth was revealed. She pressed the bottle to her lips and took a swig. Then another. Then another. Then Eldrin snatched the bottle out of her hands, muttering, "Alcoholic..." They stared at each other for moment, then both burst into laughter.
They spent the rest of the day messing around in their awkward way and talking. Eldrin even wrote 'Yes' and 'No' in the sand, so she could answer him. When the sun finally sank below the horizon, they lay together, sharing body heat to ward off the cold of the desert night.
The next morning, Eldrin woke before Ranim. He gathered up his gear and readied himself to leave. Of course, he considered staying, perhaps traveling with her. But ultimately, he knew that he couldn't. He couldn't take being tied down the way he knew he would be with her. He was a free soul, he always had been. She needed somebody to take care of her, but he could hardly take care of himself.
Under the 'Yes' and 'No' from the night before, he wrote:
'Hate to love and leave, but I've got to go. Rambling like a madman and whatnot. You know how it goes...
See you, sand princess.
-E'
See you, sand princess.
-E'
He left her the last bottle of rum, and stole her horse. He'd never liked goodbyes anyway. And the anger would soften the blow. He had been nice enough to leave her scimitar though, stabbing it into the ground next to the bottle. Riding the horse across the desert was not particularly easy, as its hooves relentlessly sank into the sands. He could now see why Ranim had been leading it rather than riding it.
Though it was a slow journey, Eldrin eventually made it to the location marked on the map. After digging (with a shovel he found among Ranim's supplies) for a while, the thief discover an old wooden chest. The chest was full of rocks. Just rocks. Not even the valuable kind. Just rocks. "Just rocks," the thief groaned.
On his return, the thief pointedly skirted the oasis, avoiding the area completely. Suddenly, the sound of swords clashing filled the quiet desert air. Then they fell quiet, and several Gerudo fled the oasis.
Ranim!
His heart beat wildly. What if she was... He couldn't let her. Ushering the horse forward, Eldrin galloped full speed toward the oasis, his eyes wide with panic. Water splashed around the horse's hooves as Eldrin jumped off of the saddle. A decapitated Gerudo lay at his feet, her head floating in the water. Another leaned against a boulder, ran through with Ranim's scimitar still protruding from her chest. The bottle was shattered, the rum wasted. A cloud of dust in the direction of the Gerudo Fortress told him where she was taken and who had taken her. Eldrin jumped into the saddle of Ranim's horse, his eyes blazing with fury.
The thief arrived at the fortress in good time and charged the first Gerudo he saw. "Where the hell is she?!" He demanded, slamming her against a wall.
The Gerudo did not seem at all surprised. On the contrary, she seemed amused. "Hello Eldrin." A savage headbutt sent him sprawling in the sand. By the time he returned to his feet, the Gerudo leg swiped him back down. With a snarl, Eldrin sprang from where he lay, pouncing on top of the Gerudo. They both slammed to the ground with a thud. The Gerudo suddenly found it not quite as fun to resist when his dagger was pressed against her throat.
"I'm not playing around, Zahrah!" He snarled.
"Who the hell are you even talking about?! Fucking psychop-"
Eldrin silenced her with the most fierce look she had ever seen. "Ranim!" he growled.
"The mute?! Oh, by Ganon, you're stupid! We were trying to save her! Namira and Basira revolted with a small band of followers. The rebellion was put down, but they survived. They escaped into the desert like the cowards they truly are. When they heard that Ranim was still in the desert, they planned to kill her. But We decided to welcome her back, since she was an enemy of Namira. We sent out a small team to rescue her, but they were too late... Ranim is probably already at their camp." Zahrah explained, rolling her eyes at the thief's mistake.
"Then we need to get moving!" Eldrin announced, helping her to her feet. He walked toward Ranim's horse as she dusted herself off.
"Are you out of your mind?!" she asked, slightly indignant.
"Slightly, but I'll need a guide, right?" he asked, climbing into the saddle.
She crossed her arms and stared at him. "You just attacked me... Give me one reason to help you."
"You'll help me cause I'm just that charming," he said with wink, then held out a hand to help her up.
"Idiot," she muttered, snatching her long-bladed assegai off of the ground. Yet she accepted his hand and climbed up behind him on the saddle.
As they rode across the desert, the sands seem to harden under the horses hooves, speeding their journey along greatly.
"Sand-shifter, huh? Just like Nadeana."
"Who do you think I learned it from?"
"Didn't take her as the teaching type."
"Maybe I'm just special..."
The horse stopped suddenly, rearing back. Eldrin and Zahrah slammed into the sand hard. The horse charged at something in a wild fury. Eldrin sat up just in time to see a three arrows strike the horse in the neck. With a savage whimper, the horse crashed to the ground and tumbled in a cloud of sand.
"Damn it!" Zahrah yelled. She jumped to her feet and readied herself for battle. Two Gerudo charged at them, while an archer stood back, aiming at them.
But Eldrin noticed none of this. He had just stood up when he noticed. His eye were fixated on one sight only, and he saw nothing else. "No... No... She can't!" But his voice wouldn't come out.
A tall tree loomed over the desert, dead from the heat. It seemed to be unnatural in the barren desert. It rose out of the sand like a hand of hell, bursting through to claim a victim. And hanging from one of its finger-like branches, a Gerudo in traveling clothes. Her body swayed in the breeze by a thick rope.
A dull thud hit his stomach. A choking sensation in his throat. And a burning in his eyes. His knees hit the sand, too weak to stand. Fingers running through his hair, his own. He closed his eyes as a single tear escaped.
"No..." His voice seemed to echo, and that was all he could hear. He watched as Zahrah ran soundlessly through the sand. Her assegai made no sound as she hurled it through the air. The first Gerudo fell silently, spasming violently with the assegai protruding from her chest. An arrow soared past Zahrah's head, barely missing. Zahrah held out her hand, and the archer fell into a sinkhole with a silent scream. The last Gerudo swung at Zahrah with a scimitar. Zahrah caught her hand. In a spinning motion, she twisted the scimitar out of the other's hand and slashed her throat. She dropped the scimitar by its owner, and retrieved her own weapon.
He had let this happen. If he hadn't taken her horse. If he had stayed with her. His mind raced with a million reasons why this was his fault. He had failed her. And he could never forgive himself. For letting her die. For letting himself get attached. For caring for anybody else. For being a fool. He hated himself.
"Hey. Hey!" Zahrah was yelling at him. And suddenly he realized he could hear again. His eyes opened and he could see again. The taste of sand. The smell of sweat and blood. The hot air on his skin. "Don't you cry, you damn fool!" She snarled harshly. "How dare you dishonor a Gerudo warrior with tears?!" Her face was one of pure fury. "She is dead. Tears will not bring her back. But steel can avenge her!
Eldrin stared in shock. Zahrah held out her hand for him, and he took it. He rose shakily from the sand. Zahrah was right. There was only one way to fix his mistake. "You know, Ranim gave me these claws a long time ago, but I haven't yet killed a single person with them... How fitting would it be for Namira to be their first victim?"
"And Basira must also die for her crimes against her Gerudo sisters." Zahrah asserted, thumping the ground assertively with her assegai.
"But first... She should be put to rest."
The two of them cut Ranim down and, through much labor, buried the fallen Gerudo in a shallow grave. Eldrin's cutlass marked the headstone. Her funeral was a simple affair. No flowers. No tears. Not even a eulogy. Afterward, Zahrah searched the horse for any supplies they could take. Eldrin scavenged four Deku Nuts from one of the Gerudo. Then they set out toward the last known location of Namira and Basira's camp.
They arrived at the camp just as the sun began its slow descent from the sky. The camp was large, housing at least 90 Gerudo, most of them exiles who were recruited after Namira and Basira's insurrection. But a few, those now regarded as captains, had been with them from the beginning. In addition, about 40 bandits from the surrounding areas had been hired as mercenaries. These men were more than happy to be in a camp full of beautiful women, the Gerudo were less amused. All in all, the camp consisted of three rings of tents with a large tent for Namira and Basira in the center. The mercenary bandits and the lowest ranking Gerudo were stationed in the outermost ring, the majority of the Gerudo lived in the second ring, and the Gerudo captains in the third and innermost ring. The large tent that housed the leaders was segregated into three parts, the left side for Namira, the right for Basira, and the center served as a center of command for their forces. At the time, most of the Gerudo and bandits were sitting outside their tents, mingling near small campfires and getting as drunk as they could manage, or else sharpening their weapons and training vigorously.
"So... We're dead." Eldrin groaned, collapsing back behind the sand dune they were perched upon.
Zahrah shook her head. She was sitting like a cat ready to pounce. With the eyes of a predator, she watched her foes. She lived for battle, she thrived upon it. Her hair was cut short, shorter than Eldrin's. It was just another weakness to her. Too often did Gerudo have their long hair pulled in battle. Her body was long, lithe and lean, like that of a leopard. The only ornamentation that she wore were two bangles and a bellybutton ring. Legend had it that she came out of the womb with a mouthfull of blood and flesh. Her mother later died of internal bleeding. She had been raised by the Gerudo. Her loyalty was fierce, and not corrupted by personal desire. She was a Gerudo warrior through and through. "No, we'll win this!" she snapped without looking at him. "If only we had reinforcements, we could use a distraction, then focus a particularly brutal strike on a different area. Then we could push through to Namira and Basira, kill those whores, and bring their heads back to Nadeana!" She explained her plan eagerly, as if she couldn't wait to put it into action.
"Great plan! One problem though, sweetheart. No reinforcements..." Eldrin replied, gnawing on an apple that they had taken from Ranim's supplies.
"Don't ever call me 'sweetheart' again!" She snarled viciously.
Eldrin smirked devilishly. "Yes, darling."
Zahrah bared her teeth at the word 'darling', but she let it slide. "What about your friends?" She asked, exasperatedly.
"Whaddaya mean?" Eldrin asked, spraying a mouthful of apple as he spoke.
"Every time you come to the fortress you're never alone. You're hardly ever even on your own business. It usually seems like you're constantly following other people around, getting into their business as if you belong."
Eldrin smiled fondly at the thought of his friends, but his eyes possessed a forlorn serenity. "Haven't seen much of them lately..." He missed them to tell the truth, but the less he saw them, the less chance they noticed his missing powers.
"But they always show up, don't they? Always there to save the day like the cliche heroes that they try so hard not to be." Zahrah asked, staring at the thief.
"Yeah, I guess you could say that. But sometimes there's no saving the day. Sometimes the bad guys win."
"But not today." Zahrah stood up, leaning on her assegai like it was a staff. She looked at the camp below.
"You're really gonna fight alone?"
"Until my people are redeemed."
"Well then," the thief muttered. He chucked the apple core into the desert. It soared a long way, then bounced and landed in the sand. "Let's get started." Eldrin rose to his feet, tightening Avarice around his forearm. He slid his dagger from its scabbard and held it in a backhand grip. The thief and the guard looked at each other, then nodded.
The first Gerudo didn't even see it coming. The second saw her comrade fall before she was killed herself, Zahrah's assegai plunging into her gut. A bandit jumped to his feet, but Eldrin's throwing knife hit his throat seconds later. In moments, they were surrounded by enemies.
"Any plans?"
"Don't die."
"Good one."