---

It was a chilly morning in Gerudo Valley. Most people tended to assume that a desert was scorching hot at all times. Well, most of those people were ones who have never actually been to one. Deserts were very much cold at night, and the Gerudo Valley was no exception. The previous cold night was close to its end, however, as the faint light of the dawning sun could be seen peeking over the horizon, about to rise in full and signal the morning of a new day. Just past the entrance of the Valley, a traveled path made its way through the Gerudo Fortress, and then out onto the desert itself. Three wagons rolled along this path, each one pulled by a pair of horses. It was a supply team, nothing out of the ordinary. They had just entered Gerudo Valley by way of the path that led to the northwestern exit of Hyrule Field. The normal road was too dangerous to travel on these days, and so the route this team took was a slightly different path, one that was built along the cliff overlooking the river that flowed from Lake Hylia and accessed by a secret tunnel that, so far, remained undiscovered by Ganondorf.

The supply convey, if it was large enough to even be called one, was bringing some much needed lumber to Oasis. The great thing about setting up base out in the desert was some natural protection and remaining hidden due to the remote location, but it came the cost of being in a locale that offered little in the way of trees for wood and lumber. And so wood ended up being the most commonly imported commodity for Oasis, with it in return offering resistance fighters to help defend other areas or the occasional team of Sheikah agents to perform special operations. This convey, true to its size, had only a minimal escort of about a dozen or so guards, anyone else with the wagons were simple employees, working with the owner of the wagons and lumber being delivered, a Business Scrub who was riding one of the wagons while going over some papers, likely contracts of some kind or a shipment manifesto. They were about to reach the entrance of Gerudo Fortress and it was quiet... too quiet. The Hylian guards, many of whom were hired mercenaries, looked up in startled amazement when they heard the cry of a horn and then hastily ready themselves for a fight. Within moments nearly two dozen Moblins, led by a Lizalfos commander, were charging into Gerudo Valley aiming for the covney's flank.

Meanwhile, on one of the walls of the Gerudo Fortress, a Gerudo woman spotted the incoming battle in the distance and made a dash for one of the wall's signal torches, hurriedly lighting it. This started a chain reaction of other signal torches being lit around the Gerudo Fortress, alerting everyone inside to the emergency. The troops manning the Gerudo fortress were a well-trained group, but unfortunately many of them were away on other assignments, so they couldn't help the convey without first receiving reinforcements. Thankfully, a lone Sheikah agent was assigned to the Gerudo Fortress to give them a means of swift communication, and the agent went to it like clockwork. The Sheikah looked to the sky and gave a peculiar whistle, one that sounded impeccably like the cry of a hawk. From the sky, a hawk fluttered down and perched itself on the Sheikah's arm, the agent then tying a tiny scroll to its leg and then releasing it to sky once more. Oasis may have been out in the desert, but a well-trained hawk could make the flight in minutes.

In Oasis, people were just beginning to start their morning routines. It didn't seem like anything exciting or out of the ordinary would happen today. That all changed when the outpost's resident Sheikah agent heard the cry of a messenger hawk, and he raced to retrieve it. After a glance at the scroll, the agent silently put the hawk in a coop so as to keep it handy for an eventual response. He made his way to Resistance HQ, where one of the leaders was beginning his morning rounds. At the sight of the agent, the man sighed with exasperation, as if he somehow already knew this would be bad news. Sure enough, he took the scroll and read it, then gave a particular, "Round up a contingent and get them to Gerudo Fortress. It's bad enough a supply team is under attack, the last thing we need is for them to suddenly have the guts to attack the Fortress along with it."

The Temple of Time
Inside the Dark World

---

If the Goddesses had ever intended a place of punishment for those who disobeyed them, this must be it.

Trees with twisted faces watched a battle that raged eternally. All manner of demon and monstrosity gathered here, fighting their fellows for the privilege of another step forward. Some were desperate to escape this wasteland, this place where it was always dark and there was only pain and suffering. Some simply wished to join the side of their master, the dark king who had created this place and summoned them here. And there was one who fought to escape, because that very king must fall. Fall at his hands. It was all he could think about--all that had driven him for years. Seven long years.

Blood had long since turned the ground to mud, and the constant churn of bodies buried those who had fallen beneath. A choking, noxious stench filled the air, for so thick was the melee that no carrion creature could pull away the corpses. A cold wind howled all around them, filled with screams and roars. The clouds above, pregnant with liquid fury, rumbled in response. Lightning struck somewhere, frying some hideous creature until its mottled hide was charred black and its blood sizzled. Thunder echoed just seconds after, a rolling boom that shook the battlefield.

And yet, for those who survived, for those who crushed all that stood in their way, who took that final step; salvation lay ahead. A golden circle in the air, filled with warm, beckoning light, showing glimpses of a world so much brighter. A starker contrast to the shadows of this world could not be found.

In the middle of it all, the Knight fought.

A weakened foe's blow pinged off his armor, and he caught the gnarled creature by the throat and shook it til its breath was no more. He hurled the carcass backwards, to stave off those that followed him. He lunged forward, shouldering past a one eyed behemoth. The cyclops gave a bellow and reached down, its meaty hand enveloping the armored interloper's head. It lifted him clear of the ground, ready to crush his skull...but the Knight dug the clawed fingers of his gauntlets into the two middle fingers of the hand that held him, and twisted both arms violently.Chunks of flesh came free in his grasp, trailing blood, and the cyclops's bellow was now one of pain as the knight dropped to the ground. Turning, one arm lashing out, the Knight's claws tore open the monster's belly and spilled its innards to the muck. He grabbed the beast’s leg and hauled against it with all his strength, roaring his rage. The Cyclops toppled, and was pounced upon by those behind it searching for easy prey. Again the Knight stepped forward.

The golden light of the portal pushed back the shadows here. The melee grew ever more intense as their goal neared--for these creatures, leaving this wretched world was a matter of life and death. To stay in this maddening realm for even another moment was hell. They fought tooth and nail to be the next one through, a struggle that never ended. And yet, this was not the worst of this world; for there were those that had reveled in this darkness, thrived in it and made it their own. But the Knight, though the darkness consumed him, was not one of these. His desire for the other world drove him another step forward.

A fallen foe's weapon became his own, until the ferocity of his blows broke it to pieces. A corpse became a shield until its bones were shattered and its flesh torn asunder. A vicious punch crushed a pig-like snout and made the blood flow in twin rivers down its face. A roar deafened the creatures as they were barreled through, tossed in every direction as if by a raging storm.

The portal floated before him. The path was clear for only a moment. In his right hand, though his grip was empty, a golden flash of light gave him the Courage to take that next step.

The Knight stepped into the Light.

Etzo groaned as he made his way along the streets of Oasis, head pounding as the remenants of the previous night of drinking brought lance after agonizing lance of pain screeching through his rather impressive head, cursing that he had once more forgoten put together a cure for hangovers, the thought always coming to late, and soon replaced by more...exotic concepts. At least the night had been somewhat productive. The scrawny Hylian grinned as he fished the strange ivory trinket out of his pocket, a decidedly thick molar held between his thumb and forefinger.

Somehow, in one of his many stops along a particularly determined bar crawl, he had happened upon a bar right in mid-brawl. He would have been happy to leave it be, but luck had been with him as he watched one of the few Goron inhabiting the town take a rather solid blow from a thick chair to his jaw, looseing the tooth into the fray. He chuckled as he remebered the frenzied crawl to grab the rare find, dozens of ideas for such item springing to his mind, a faint warm feeling enveloping him, though wether it had been the fragment acting up or the previous drinks, he couldn't rightly say.

Etzo was sharply brought back to the present as one of the many bruises gained from rushing into a brawl made their distaste at his laughing known, ribs aching slightly. Sighing once more, he replaced the tooth back into one of the many folds of his robes, hand returning with a sheaf of slightly stained paper, the manifesto for projected ingredients needed in the coming weeks, as well as a few hopeful requests for more exotic items. The haggard alchemist doubted he'd get most of them, indeed most had already been rejected before, but Etzo was nothing if not persistent.

Adjusting his glasses and trying to beat out a few of the stains and dust from his robes, the dishelved alchemist shuffled through the doors to the HQ of the resistance, manifesto held forward with the same zeal a priest may present his faith, knowing if he didn't get these approved before the wagons arrived, he could be looking at weeks before he could request to refresh his reserves.

"Now I know that things are hectic, but we are sorely in need of some deku leaves," he said as he entered the main room, not talking to anyone in particular rather than announcing himself to whomever might listen, "or we could be looking at a rather depressing drop in potions for our skirmishers, and I know we've discussed the dangers of bringing in a live peahat but," he paused as he awaited the by now expected rebuttals, the distant look on his face disappearing as he realized no one was paying attention to him, adjusting his glasses once more as he took in the scene, preparation seeming to be coming together, with the words attack and supply team floating through the room.

The thought of his supplies being placed in danger brought on a short wave of anxiety, before searching out the man currently in charge of the situation, a look of curoisity flavoring the distant smile that usually plasters his face,"I don't suppose this is simply to greet the wagons coming here, that lack I potions I was mentioning earlier will be in much greater peril if I cant replinsh my stores,"he told the man, trying to hide the true depths of his worry. Etzo had in all actuality bribed the merchants to bring him a few live bubbles, and it'd be such a shame to have it all be for naught.

A slight yawn escaped Yuri's mouth as she awoke from her slumber. Though she was brought an odd dream last night, she slept soundly and awoke refreshed and ready. This was probably because almost as soon as she had reached the town, she settled down at an inn for the night. For a rebel town, the place was surprisingly decent, if a bit pricey. Not as good as a Deku inn, obviously, but they were in wartimes. As soon as she got in, she ate a meal, and tried to place her things in a secure place so as to not have them stolen. This was a new town after all, and she had no idea if there were thieves.

Now, she would reclaim them. After a quick check up, she was relieved to find it all in the same place. She donned her chainmail shirt and merchant's robes, and stashed a small amount of merchandise and wares in the many pockets in it. She also grabbed her wallet, full of a decent amount of rupees, but sure to be even fuller soon. She also briefly debated bringing her weaponry, and decided it was a good idea to do so. Her boomerang and blade also were placed in her robes, in easy to reach locations.

She exited the inn in a lackadaisical fashion. The day was young after all. Other people too, were just beginning to start their jobs as well, walking around with a slight grogginess to them. Yuri, eager to see any ways she could pawn her rock, walked up to a gerudo. She was going to ask them where to find an auction house, but a better idea popped into her head right before she did so.

"Where would one find the Resistance headquarters?" She asked the woman. The gerudo pointed north, and began giving instructions. North up the road until the second road on the left, third alley on the left, it would be the first thing she saw. Yuri tried to remember the memorise the directions with a cute little mnemonic device. "23 is number 1..." She mumbled as she walked down the road. The resistance would definitely be willing to pay more for this gem than some hoity toity rich guy. Put this in the hands of a capable warrior and the war was pretty much done.

The deku walked into the building, it's doors already open as someone had recently entered. She walked up to the first guy in the room, whom she assumed would let her into the main room, and began talking to him. "Mmm, I assume you're part of the resistance sir?" She inquired. The hylian man began to speak, but she cut him off before he could answer. "Exactly. Then I believe I have JUST what you need sir." And she held up her hand to reveal the glowing mark. The Hylian man seemed astounded for a second, before simply saying she had better see someone more qualified, and pointing her to a door. The door was already open, and she could hear a familiar voice coming from it.

"Ah, Etzo, my favorite black market customer..." She began, with a hint of haughtiness in her voice. But she wasn't entirely lying there. He had made a lot of purchases from her; more than anyone else in the Kokiri village. Even if his purchases and requests were odd, he did pay well. She honestly thought he had died in the Kokiri Massacre, and so a smile was brought to her face when she walked up to him. "Making poisons for the Resistance now? Kekeke, it seems to fit you pretty well." She laughed. After that, she switched gears. "Sorry I don't have any Lizalfos spleens to sell you today, I'm making a big deal. Any idea where one would be able to sell incredibly powerful weapons of war to the rebellion?"

"Oasis... A word that refers to a place of hospitable nature in the middle of a desolate and oppressive desert, in this case, it refers not just to this being an oasis in a desert, but an oasis to what this land has become...", already in the early hours of the morning he was up. Recently he took residence in the resistance headquarters, since he helped out so often they offered him a place there, plus his main goal was to find out the meaning of this golden speck, a piece of the triforce as he had found out.

"No matter how many times I define oasis to myself it doesn't change that I need to make some safe passage... The answer is out there, but too far away to safely travel", with a sigh he closed his journal and tucked it into his desk. He donned his pauldrons, hooded cape and helm, and grabbed his colossal blade and stepped out of his quaint little stone room.

As he stepped down to the entrance, he saw Etzo at the front. There was a mention of a potions problem, but he gathered enough that it wasn't a problem... Yet. He recognized this man Etzo, an alchemist of sorts. Making an effort to get to know this man on a personal level was as he gathered a difficult task, but the man often had need of someone who wasn't bound by the duty of patrols all the time.

"If you need a little extra, I could attempt to gather some the next time I go on the field", he offered as he stepped in.

Though shortly after that, another figure arrived, there was no mistaking that this was a Deku. In moments she pulled out a golden speck. Visibly, the guard on duty was astounded, but Sigurd himself did not expect to see another piece like this. He stormed right over to her,

"W-Where. Where did you get that?! How do you have one too!?"

Dia

There's no getting around it... Dia is lost. She's been past the same cactus three times now, and every time she thinks she's found a landmark, the desert ghosts and sand creatures kick up dust amd spin her around.

At least it's still cool. When the sun gets too strong, it takes all Dia's strength not to pass out.

But then... In the distance... A horn? Yes, there it is again! Dia rushes towards the sound.

From atop a dune, Dia finds the source of the sound. The forces of evil, attacking a caravan. The odds aren't good, but it only takes the zora a moment to decide what to do.

A ball of elcticity strikes a moblin in the back, stunning the creature and dropping it to it's knees. Two more follow, stunning another moblin, and crackling off the armour of the lizafos.

Dia stands proud atop the dune, lightning crackling in one hand, pointing at the commander with the other, calling him out to fight. If she can win a one-on-one, it should demoralise the other beasts, and give the caravan time to flee.

The Temple of Time
Inside the Dark World

---

The Temple of Time. Once a holy place of worship to the goddesses, a place that held the most magnificent treasure of the realm and protected the gate to the Sacred Land. But now, by the very hands of the Hero that should have saved it, that gateway had been opened and allowed a king of thieves to steal away the very lifeblood of Hyrule. Now the Temple was a nest of darkness, a place where the denizens of the Dark World were birthed forth from the portal to join Ganon's armies. The Knight stepped through that same doorway, back into the world of light that had been thrown into a shadow nearly as black as that of the land he just left.

But Courage pulsed in his hand, brighter than ever. He felt its pull and followed it with trodding steps, his back hunched as if under an incredible burden. His arms hung loosely at his sides, giving his gait a predatory slink. The light, from windows high above, had a reddened, malicious tint to it, and the sheen of his blackened armor gave him a demonic aura under those crimson rays.

As he neared the entrance to the temple, two figures came into view. Their flesh, rotting and riddled with poisoned veins, was stretched tight--too tight, so tight that in places it tore--across their skeletons, which were twisted as if in agony. Their faces, too, were frozen in the gasp of suffering, their dried and cracked lips drawn tight over yellowing, chipped teeth. Only their eyes, occasionally glowing red, showed any signs of life. The two corpses, ReDead, stood guard over the temple and watched as the Knight slowly, determinedly, walked towards them.

Their orders were simply to stop anyone entering this place, and to direct those who would serve their Master, the Dark King, towards his castle. As the black knight approached, at first they thought him a Darknut, perhaps, or an Iron Knuckle. But when they saw that the crest of Hyrule still gleamed on his breast, they looked at each other in confusion. Then, one cast his seemingly empty eyes towards their fellow Dark Worlder.

"Screeeah?" it called. The Knight stopped and stood there, staring. The red light behind his own visor pulsed just once. Then he rose up a bit, his spine straightening.

"URRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"

In an instant he leaped across the room, his clawed grasp finding the ReDead's face before he slammed its skull into the stone wall behind it. With a crunch the rotten bones and flesh gave way, and black, stagnated blood with a foul stench splattered over the masonry. The other ReDead took a breath for its paralyzing scream, but the Knight's head snapped towards it and he flung the corpse of its comrade at it. As the two carcasses--one returned to death--tumbled head over heels, the Knight leaped into the air and came down on the second zombie's chest with both feet. Again a horrific crunch heralded the splash of dark ichor, and the Knight threw back his head like a wolf after a triumphant kill.

"GAAAAAAARRRAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

He rushed down the steps, past the now-fetid baptismal pools and the dead shrubbery lining the front of the Temple. As he neared a Gossip Stone, a mysterious device which--for those who weren't Shiekah--was merely a magic timepiece, more ReDeads began to ascend the steps from the town below. They had heard the screams and come to see what was going on, and now as one pointed at the Knight and let out its terrifying screech, they began to swarm. In the distance, other screeches answered, the sounds echoing across the town as almost every ReDead in Castle Town received the signal.

The Knight was frozen by the paralyzing magic of the first ReDead's cry, but the muscles beneath his armor strained until it seemed they might burst. Then suddenly he was free again, shaking back and forth like a rabid animal. With another roar he dove forward to meet the monsters.

The eyes of Sibela Zhetik narrowed as she pressed her foot up against a structure that was behind her as she crossed her arms. It was her first day back in the fortified settlement that they had named Oasis, but instead of relief she had felt nothing but dread since she had awoken in her bed. By all accords she should’ve felt inspired and hopeful considering the fact that the gods had chosen her to carry a fragment of the triforce since her happening across it during one of her venturous searches for her brothers.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it— the glimmer of a godly blessing and the responsibilities she was expected to hold. She had always done what was right for others but actually being given such a prestigious expectation was one she was still coming to terms with. She moved her hand as she turned it, imagining what was to come of her. The hero of courage was expected to defeat… him. How could she even expect to defeat such a menace that had successful pillaged, murdered, and executed others far more capable? She knew she had doubt, but she knew she had to be hopeful and move past it.

She had to.

She supposed that the best way to do so was to ignore it for the time being and move forward; to treat the day just like any other. There was a warm smile that move her lips as she jumped up and began walking through the streets of Oasis. Much like many others she was a refuge lost in the desert town, hoping to find some reason to survive another day as the world grew more bleak and depressing.

With a green-colored cloak covering her head and shoulders that she had gotten in Kakariko, the sun didn’t feel as daunting as she moved forward. She may not have been an “official” guard in the resistance-based town but that didn’t mean she couldn’t keep her eyes and ears open; there was always trouble somewhere and something to be done about it and if not there was always the option to going to the leaders of Oasis like she had done before with inquiry of assignment. If she could not find purpose, others could certainly help her in doing so.

The blonde-haired woman looked towards the headquarters and with a confident stride made for it.

The chill of the morning air in Oasis seemed the perfect time to work on weapon drills. At least, that seemed to be sincerely held belief of several Gerudo women, scimitars in hand. Their twirling, flowing style of fighting with two long blades held a great fascination for Cricket; his native method of combat insisted on utilitarian moves and economy of motion.

Still, the enigmatic Sheikah youth wanted to learn more. He stood parallel to, but apart from, the group of Gerudo soldiers as they went through their forms and footwork, drilling and sparring. The slender Cricket stood, mimicking their movements and approximating their stances, with a pair of his own Gerudo scimitars. Well, maybe not his own; the word of a Sheikah training with the women of the desert attracted the attention of a few natives. Just now, some three dark skinned, red haired girls sat with amused looks on their faces, each armed appropriately to their standing except for one - curved scabbards adorned her well-toned form, presumably the rightful resting spots of the weapons Cricket wielded now.

On the ground near the desert maidens lay a long, brown coat with two Sheikah blades atop it. Kodachi, they were called by most. Shorter than a long blade, larger than a dagger, designed for close work and variable fighting conditions. The youth himself, an odd young man who answered to Cricket, could have easily been mistaken for a knife merchant with the number of sharp implements on his person. He was garbed mostly in functional, tactical black and grey, the cut and fit not a common sight in this part of the world. A black half-mask covered the lower half of his face, giving feature to his bright, red eyes and the tattoo of his people's symbol around his left eye: Three triangles above and a teardrop below.

Were it not for the events which had unfolded elsewhere in the world, Cricket would never have been seen openly here. He surely wouldn't have been learning the techniques of the Desert Folk, and he sure as hell wouldn't be this up close and personal with a Gerudo woman. But it was a strange time for everyone. Strange, and very dangerous.

Cricket's stark white hair blew in the cool air as he looked up from his practice, noting a hawk descending from the sky in the distance. It was a message, certainly. Hopefully it was good news. There was a convoy expected soon, perhaps this was the Fortress confirming its arrival. At least, he hoped. Something inside of him told him that it wasn't. He had come to trust these flashes of intuition, be they fairly recent arrivals in his skill set.

No, he needed to stop what he was doing and go see if he was needed.

The out-of-place Sheikah gave his borrowed twin scimitars a quick twirl and backed out of the morning's exercises. He jogged up to the three Gerudo girls, knelt before the unarmed one, and presented her swords to her with a touch of dramatic motion. She stood and sheathed them, regarding the strange boy with interest and amusement. Cricket pulled down his mask, revealing pleasant features and a wide, genuine smile.

From the corner of his eye, Cricket noticed the other Sheikah rounding onto the thoroughfare near them. He glanced over toward the man, and returned his attention to the lady standing above him. He took her hand and traced a triangle pattern on it with his finger, gave it a quick kiss, and rose. Recovering his coat and swords, he winked at his new friend and moved to meet the other Shiekah in town.

A series of hand motions seemed to ask a question, it was responded to in kind by the other red-eyed man. A look of puzzled urgency came over Cricket, and he fell in line behind the messenger, following him to Resistance HQ as their first volunteer.

The Temple of Time
ReKill the ReDead

---

"RRRAAAAAHHHH!" The Knight's fist smote the first monster on the chin, dislocating its jaw to hang limply as its head snapped around almost a hundred and eighty degrees. Another screamed at him, freezing him in place, and a third climbed upon his back, wrapping itself around him as its yellowed teeth tried to bite him, to suck the life out...but the rotten molars simply clanged against metal, the Knight's armor too close to his body for it to make contact with his flesh. When the paralysis wore off, he reached up to grab its head and threw it to the ground, the impact driving the breath from its shriveled lungs just before the Knight shoved his claws into its throat and pulled out its desiccated windpipe.

Another scream, and the knight struggled against it, but to go towards the crowd of corpses rather than away. His bones creaked under the strain of his own strength, and suddenly he was free, exploding forward like he had been shot from a bow. He slashed through the belly of one ReDead, dumping foul smelling innards to the ground; he grabbed another by the arm and jerked it with such force that its shoulder burst from the socket. The body was used as an impromptu flail to dash another one to the earth and hammer them both to death together. Another jumped on his back, but this time he turned and caught it before bringing its head down face first onto the metal plate of his knee caps, shattering its face and cracking open its skull. He picked the body up over his head, and with another roar lowered it before charging forward, battering through the melee until his body shield had been pulped. He found himself standing at the top of the stairs leading down to Castle Town proper--but though he did not intend to retreat, such a route had already been cut off. More ReDeads were coming, and with them, a leader...

Its body was more muscular than the other corpses. It had once been wrapped in burial shroud, but now the white was stained brown and yellow and black and red, from all manner of bodily fluids and filth. A red scarf, formerly a cape--much like the Knight's own--adorned its rasping throat. The broken handle of a shield was clasped in one hand. And the other dragged a sword.

The ReDead Knight gave its own scream, louder and more terrifying than its minions. Though the Knight felt its magic lock up his body once more, he screamed back at it, the sounds echoing out across the town's cobblestones. The ReDead warrior approached its frozen foe, as did the many lesser corpses behind him. Their captain raised his sword, right over the Knight's head, and began to bring it down...

Once again, he broke free! And immediately, on an instinct so deeply ingrained, on muscle memory that had been beaten into his body, that no madness could drown out, he acted. He dropped and rolled to one side, around to the ReDead Knight's back. He came up, out of the roll, body still spinning, claws lashing out.

Hylian Knight's Hidden Skill: Back Slice.

The ReDead gasped as it was struck, the blow cutting it from one hamstring up through the middle of its back. The wound wasn't deep enough to be fatal, with the short reach of the Knight's clawed gauntlets, but the sheer force of it knocked the undead captain to the ground. It caught itself on all fours, its sword still held in one hand--but the Knight's shadow appeared above it, his visor blazing with red light.

"HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Hylian Knight's Hidden Skill: Ending Blow.

With the Knight's full weight, momentum, and gravity behind it, this time he drove his claw straight through the ReDead warrior's back, right between the shoulder blades. He punched all the way into its chest cavity and then through its heart and sternum, before ripping his hand back out. Black blood trailed the arc of his arm, and dripped from the elbow down. The ReDead's glowing eyes flickered, then went blank. Its minions shrank back in fear, but only for a moment. Then, with multiple screams, they began to rush the Knight. Body after body piled on top of him, until he went down. He grappled and flailed at them, but they outnumbered him, and though their teeth and that deadly kiss could not reach him, their claws and fists beat at him relentlessly, rattling the body within the armor. One of his hands scrabbled on the ground...then closed around his salvation with an iron grip.

The ReDead Knight's sword.

The rusted iron, wrapped in the same burial cloth as its former master, pierced up through the many bodies. The Knight rose behind it, hacking and slashing with wild abandon, screaming his fury for all to hear even as the ReDeads screamed back, his body freezing again and again as they rained blows upon him...

Etzo backed away from the short merchant, one hand cradling his head as she recalled old purchases, a mild headache making a return with their inquires. Waiting a moment for the migraine to disperse once more, before opening his eyes and patting the familiar Deku on the head in a welcome fashion, "Ah Yuri, I had thought you dead by now," he said with a glint in his stare as he eyed the leaves adorning her head, "though seems your strange timing comes through again, as you might be able to help me once again," he said, losing himself for a moment in thought, had lingering on the plant creatures head as he considered wether or not be could use them as a substitute.

Just as he meant to point her in the direction Gerik, and planning on clipping a sample for testing, the blue clad knight rushed over to the pair, speaking of gathering the leaves himself. The slim alchemist cocked his head curiously at the rather eager fellow, taking a moment to close his eyes as another wave of pain came from his temple, only to open them once more to find the man had come uncomfortably close, though the little Deku seemed to be the point of interest for the odd knight. Following his gaze, he found what could only be the weapon she had spoken of before, a familiar glow emitting from Yuri's hand. He felt a curious draw to the fragment himself, the piece within him obviously wishing to rejoin its brethren.

A strange look of manic glee graced his face as he looked at Yuri, a look that often had been followed by explosions lately. "Oh my Yuri," he said, his voice holding a distant quality as though it hadn't even come from himself. He felt himself begin to crouch as well, gently but stubbornly pushing the knight to the side as he took ahold of her outstretched hand, turning the palm this way and that as he examined it.

Looking once more up at her, eyes larger than his own glasses now as he stared unblinkingly at her, "You must let me run some tests," he said, sounding for all the world like a child locked in a sweets shop, hand slightly tightening as he said so.

Yuri huffed as Etzo patted her head like she was a child. The Deku may have been short in stature, but they were not children, and if he believed her weak she would have to teach him otherwise. Still, he didn't regard her as any lesser, it seemed. His odd mind must've just said that this was how a taller friend greeted a shorter friend after they had been apart for a while. Apparently, he thought her dead too. She was a mix of touched and offended at this, but disregarded it for his next comment. He mentioned he could still be a help to her. She was going to reiterate her previous comment about lack of spleens, but she had only slapped his hand away from her head before a strange man accosted her.

A quick glance at the man confirmed he probably wasn't a regular man. He wore a warrior's armor, but it was not of the standard Hyrule style. It was slim and stylish, and the sword at his side was not regulation. It was large, almost too large for any hylian to wield, it seemed. The symbol on it was not familiar either. The foreigner seemed almost in shock at what he was seeing, the piece of gold in her hand that glowed with power. She almost missed that he mentioned he had one too. That certainly put a damper on her plans, though she was sure that the Resistance would want what she was offering now. She held her hand out, again showing her power to those in the room. "Well, a merchant must not give away the trade secrets, yes? Though I will say Ganondorf's creatures are a wily bunch." She said. Hopefully this would leave enough up to interpretation that they would believe she did more than she had. Honestly all she had done was haggle him.

She was going to turn and try to find someone more important who could handle this big transaction, but the alchemist spoke. His look was manic, almost scary, and he seemed as if he wasn't in control of his actions. He pushed the foreigner out of Yuri's line of sight, and grabbed her hand like he was trying to court her. Their eyes locked, Etzo's in happiness and Yuri's in shock. For a second after the man insisted on running tests on her, the whole room was silent. And then it wasn't.

"UGH! What the in the GODDESSES are you doing Potion-boy?!?" Yuri shouted as she tore her hand away from his. Quickly, her other hand flicked, and out one of her sleeves came her boomerang, aimed straight at Etzo's head.

"ENOUGH!", as soon as the Deku lady Yuri brought out a weapon, he grabbed both their wrists, Etzo's and Yuri's, and tore them both to his sides like two kids misbehaving. Compared to the strength of a knight, these two were powerless in his grip.

"We will calm down this instant, you especially Etzo. I too am eager to learn more of these... Artifacts, but the fact remains that you are being rude to another person, and a lady at that", after the two stopped struggling he let go.

"I haven't been in this land long, but this saved me", he said, pulling out from his tunic a piece of the triforce, it was sealed inside a tiny glass jar on a necklace. It was so tiny that keeping track of it in some other way may have been too difficult.

"A little investigation suggests to me that these are pieces of the triforce... It is the reason I still live, and the reason I still remain in this land. My intuition tells me they are the key to this land's current predicament", he explained briefly, before putting his away as well.

"But... We can speak of this more later. Earlier we got a report of an attack near Gerudo Fortress, and by the sounds of it, it can be dire. I will be heading out for there, a group of soldiers should already be on their way, but I will go too to make doubly sure... I hear a trade convoy is coming too, so it's also a matter of supplies", and so he began to step to the door,

"So until I return, I bid you all good day", with that he was gone for the fortress.

Out of all the different times of day, early mornings were definitely the worst as far as Nadijah was concerned. During the night the temperature often dropped below zero Celsius, making the desert cool down just so to better facilitate her lonesome, impromptu training sessions, while during the day most of her peers were awake and the amount of things to do all but tripled. There was always something going on, be it an actual mission or just a chance to practice her sword-fighting skills against her fellow sisters. Even in the evening she could always find some of her peers up and about, and observing the many foreigners that occupied Oasis as they prepared for the night ahead was nothing short of fascinating. O-of course, she was just doing it for research purposes to make sure they weren't a threat to the community! She wasn't actually interested in their habits or anything. Screw that!

Now, mornings? Yeah. Fuck mornings. Sure, she had woken up late enough today for many others to already be getting out of their beds and beginning their chores, but she found that nobody ever did anything interesting when they first woke up. She swore, even these interesting foreigners seemed to be sluggish and boring two minutes outta the hay. And yeah, yeah, she had happened to pass by a Sheikah (that's what those creeps were called, right?) practicing with some of her Gerudo sisters earlier on, but she couldn't, for the life of her, stay and watch. How some of them could be so stricken by a practically mute stranger was beyond her. Well, at least the guy had had some decent moves and the mind to wear black in a desert, so he probably wasn't a total loser. Still. Ugh.

Nadijah was pacing the outskirts of the Gerudo Fortress where she still spent most of her nights, groggily fixing her hair and wondering where most of the people were. Probably out on assignments, the lucky bastards. Meanwhile, she had to do her darnest to try and figure out how to spend the morning until her friends were up or back from their duties. Now how was that fair? Ugh, she'd probably just walk around aimlessly, or use the last few cooler hours before sunrise to get a bit more exercise in. Something like that. Same old.

... Or at least, that was her plan until the sudden flare of a torch high above in the fortress tore her from her grumpy inner monologue. She spun around as if expecting another one to follow and surely enough, it did - followed soon by another and a yet another torch casting its light into the early morning's darkness. Nadijah's heart skipped a beat in both surprise and excitement, the sudden signal of an approaching threat offering her both a cause of concern and an excuse to grab her weapons and do something. There likely weren't enough people inside to properly fend off whatever was coming, but... screw that, they couldn't exactly wait either! Even if it was just a few people, someone should go there right now and begin the counterattack. Someone like her, who wasn't exactly hailed as the patient sort.

So, grinning, Nadijah gave up on trying to fix her messy hair, opting to grab her scimitars and dash towards the entrance of the fortress instead.

Hey, maybe all mornings weren't so boring, after all.

The Temple of Time
The Knight Falls

---

Watching the Knight move was like watching a series of still pictures be flipped, page after page. The ReDead's screams came one after the other, keeping him frozen in place while their fists beat against his armor and their claws scrabbled at his helmet and chest, trying to rip the armor from him. Little did they know, the Dark World had changed the body inside along with the armor--for some reason none could yet see, the two refused to be parted. Even the visor upon the Knight's face, hiding whatever corrupted visage he had received, would not open.

Finally he jerked free of their spells, and brought his sword down in a mighty swing to split yet another corpse in half from head to groin. He swung at another, but the next series of screams stopped him before he could follow through. Still the blade bit deep enough into his next target to kill it, cleaving its side open and exposing the black, rotten pile of guts within. When he broke free once more, he let go of the sword with one hand and spun, slashing with both claw and blade in a whirlwind of death. Two more ReDead fell, and more only piled on. One dragged him down to one knee under its weight, hanging around his neck like a lover attempting a kiss. He drove his spiked helm into its face, smashing it into the ground, as his free hand caught himself before he could fall all the way to the ground and the sword lashed out again, cutting the legs out from under another adversary. Again the screams paralyzed him and they began to jump onto his back one after the other, attempting to crush and smother him under a dog pile.

The red light behind his visor grew brighter, the aura he emitted more wild, as his rage simmered hotter and hotter.

"URRAAAAAAARRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAGHHAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" He pushed against the ground with both fist and sword, his legs shaking under the strain.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! AH, AH, RUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" He shook them loose, a dog shaking away the rain, then chopped through them one after the next, caught them in a vice grip and shook them til their throats were crushed, kicked and stomped them until their skulls were smashed like ancient pottery. In a frenzy unlike anything even these dark, murderous creatures had ever seen in their time serving the Dark King, this Knight tossed them aside, smashed through them, and tore them apart.

Soon the soil turned to mud under the black bile spread across the long-dead grass, and the Knight's armor too was covered in stinking, rotten filth. He headed for the stairs, the sword slung over his shoulder in a loose grip. He still walked with a loose, predatory gait, but now there was fatigue there too as he left the horde of corpses behind. He stumbled, then righted himself. He lost his balance, and had to lean against a tree. Then he took his first step down the staircase. The light behind his visor began to flicker. He fell.

Seven years of fighting. Seven years of fighting to take one step forward, one single inch of ground, at a time. Now, he had made it back to the Light. He...had...made...it...back...

The red light went out, and the Knight lay still, sword still clutched in his clawed grasp...

Location: Oasis, Resistance HQ

Interacting With: Yuri, Etzo, Resistance Officer

Much like a determined little brother, Cricket followed the Sheikah assigned to Oasis into the main doors of the Resistance Headquarters. The fact that he was shorter than the Shadow Folk soldier didn't help this image much. He had pulled on his long, brown coat, but hadn't quite affixed his swords back in their usual place among his armament, carrying them both in his left hand by their minimalist scabbards. He continued to follow his clansman into a back room where the message was delivered to the Officer of the Day, a Hylian of middling rank who happened to fit into the schedule that day.

Cricket took a moment to wonder exactly what his place in all of this was concerned; since revealing to Resistance Leads that he possessed a Shard, he was basically given free run of Oasis and allied outposts. His personal needs were met so far as food and shelter was concerned, and he was left to his own devices for the most part. It was understood that when appointed a task, either singly or with a group, he was expected to see it to completion. Even if that completion was failure. Mostly, it had been tasks that leaned toward his strengths; information gathering, scouting, the occasional knife-in-the-dark. Acts of theft were not beneath his orders, either.

Mostly they came from Rath, but every so often another Resistance Lead asked for a Favor. What they called Favor oftentimes were strongly suggested guidelines of action, for which he received little or nothing in the way of compensation. But, Cricket wasn't here to get rich. He was there because he was needed. At least they kept him as well-equipped. A prepared Sheikah, as they found out, is a happy and dangerous Sheikah.

Personally, Cricket thought that these people just loved the novelty of having one of the Shadow Folk at their disposal. No one but the Hylian Royal Family had that kind of perk previously. Not for centuries.

When the Officer issued his orders to gather a group to assist with the trouble in front of the Gerudo Fortress, Cricket raised his index finger and pointed to himself. He had the occasion to volunteer for jobs before, but they rarely were open combat and never for siege duty. But from what the note said, it was unlikely to be a large scale, protracted affair. Some flash of intuition told Cricket that he was supposed to help with this.

The unspeaking Sheikah touched the message on the desk in front of him, looked expectantly at the Officer, and tapped his chest. When the Officer nodded to him, Cricket bowed his head, collected the paper, and exited back into the main room.

He was just in time to see a large, armored man hold up two other guests of the establishment by their wrists. Cricket had seen him around; Knightly type. Unsubtle. He hadn't worked with him before, though. Vastly different skill sets, most likely. It stood to reason that the only time they would have been paired would be for a specific mission, one which required both Quiet and Loud. Such a mission simply hadn't come up yet when he was available.

Cricket looked upon the scene with tacit disapproval. He sighed and shook his head. Such were not the actions of a properly functioning, harmonious unit. Still, he had to assume that the armored man was given the same message as he; the war was coming back to Gerudo territory. He supposed that this would be the day he worked alongside the Unsubtle. With a positive expression adorning his features, Cricket walked to the table the Knight had just left.

He flashed a smile and bowed his head slightly before his final approach, making sure the two of them noticed his presence. He had a nasty habit of being too quiet and irking the hell out of people. Interacting socially in the wider world had different rules than his own home. Being seen was one of them, usually. Not that it mattered when he got closer - his own Shard reacted, a soft glow emanating from the back of his hand in the shape of the Triforce, the lower left triangle slightly more pronounced than the others.

They were like him. Kinda.

Wordlessly, Cricket placed the message on the table near Etzo and Yuri, nodding to them with the implication to give it a read. His mildly illuminated hand outstretched a finger to the text, indicating the size and composition of the attacking force: Two Dozen Moblins, Lizalfos commander. Rumor had it that the Hylian man had a thing for collecting odd parts of obscure creatures. Moblins were common enough, but a Lizalfos? An assist in taking it down could be mutually profitable, to the cause and the Hylian's strange pantry of researchy bits and pieces.

Cricket smiled, grinned even, in anticipation of a job to come. His red eyes seemed to sparkle with something akin to glee; a positivity of some kind, with another, harder to place emotion mixed in somewhere. He pointed tilted his head twice to the door, pointed to a clock along the wall, and raised five fingers.

The odd Sheikah nodded expectantly, as if waiting for the answer to a question.

The commanding officer of the HQ paced back and forth a moment after the Sheikah messenger departed. It was only now that the man, Gerik, realized that the messenger hadn't come alone. Another Sheikah remained within HQ, and in spite of his silence, it was clear that he was offering himself as a volunteer for the contingent Gerik requested. Good, perhaps a little subterfuge would keep this little skirmish from becoming anything more than that. Of course, Gerik knew the young man's secret, or at least one of them. Rath had informed Gerik of the piece of Triforce that the lad had come into possession of sometime before making the trip to Oasis. Well, all the better as far as Gerik was concerned. Any edge they could get over those Moblin bastards, the better. Then Gerik heard a voice, one that made him rub his temples and almost immediately induced a headache.

It wasn't that Gerik didn't like Etzo, in fact the scraggly alchemist proved himself quite useful as a potion and medicine supplier for Gerik's men, something they sometimes sorely needed. And yet, Etzo's manic and oftentimes hyperactive personality made him quite the handful to deal with. He fired away with some questions about supplies and ingredients, but given the current circumstances Gerik only partially paid attention. Right now the skirmish was the most important thing on his mind, not Etzo's shopping list. As if to compound the stress, a shrill voice made itself known, one that belonged to Yuri, a merchant who had multiple dealings with Gerik and his men. At first Gerik was ready to just shush the two of them and hurry them along their way, but some peculiar words caught his attention.

"W-Where. Where did you get that?! How do you have one too!?"

The voice, while not someone Gerik worked with personally, belonged to a knight he was well aware of. More importantly, this was a fellow who made it no secret that he was investigating the Triforce, why was anyone's guess. But just then, with that exclamation, Gerik's suspicion was confirmed. He did have one, and apparently so did Yuri. Four. That was four pieces that he now not only knew of, but learned were all in one place. This was either some form of destiny, or the world's biggest coincidence. Before Gerik could speculate to himself any further, Yuri and Etzo briefly began to argue only for the knight to loudly intervene before proclaiming that he was going to Gerudo Fortress to offer his aid.

"Hold it right there, Sir Knight!" Gerik stayed quiet until now, but he was having no more antics or suicidal heroics. Not in his garrison, anyway, most certainly not on his watch, "Before you go gallivanting into what could be your death, I suggest you volunteer for the contingent and leave with help at your side." he wasn't giving an order, this knight was not actually one of his men and therefore did not fall under his command. Still, that didn't mean Gerik couldn't make a strong suggestion, and if this man were a true knight he would almost certainly respect local authority enough to comply.

"First of all," Gerik began, "as soon as the supply convoy is rescued we're all going to sit down and have a nice, long discussion about this Triforce business, and what we're actually going to do with these pieces some of you have apparently felt the need to keep hidden. Secondly, I'm in no mood to babysit today, so either make yourselves useful or stay out of the way!" Gerik didn't normally act so abrasive, the current circumstances were the root of cause of that at the moment.

---

The moblins attacking the convoy might have had a quick victory. The hired mercenaries were skilled but the moblins practically doubled them in numbers so overwhelming them wouldn't take too long. However, they didn't count on the convoy receiving aid so soon. Namely, a couple of moblins fell, struck by balls of lightning. The lizalfos commander was also hit, but his armor kept it from being a serious wound. Being reptilian, it wasn't hard for the lizalfos to smell the blood of a Zora nearby, and spotted Dia in the distance, deducing her to be the source of the attacks.

With a pitched bark, the Lizalfos ordered the moblins to advance on Dia. One lone Zora couldn't hope to fend off nearly twenty moblins. Then, the lizalfos smelled something else, something advancing on them and doing it quickly. Gerudo blood, someone from the nearby Gerudo Fortress was coming out to aid the convoy. Still, a lone Gerudo instead of sending out an entire unit? Fools, if the Gerudo woman wished to die so badly, then it would be their pleasure to oblige them. Some of the moblins broke from their charge on Dia in order to advance toward the charging Nadijah. Fortunately for the two women, not all the mercenaries were killed yet and those that still lived decided to use the opportunity to renew their attack against the enemy forces. It was a real battle now. (Battle Music)

---

Six eyes watched the Knight's emergence from the temple and his following struggle against the ReDead horde. He fought hard, valiantly even, but there were just too many of them. In fact, more were about enter the courtyard from the direction of town, and even some of the dead ones looked as if they were about become reanimated again. Ganondorf's curse on the area prevented it from ever being truly cleansed of the horde, at least not without managing to kill the Evil King himself. From the shadows they watched, six eyes belonging to three Sheikah agents waited and observed.

Watching the struggle unfold, one of the Sheikah motioned to the one in the center with a gesture of communication, to which they silently responded in kind. The exchange, though silent, went a little something like this:

"Do we intervene?"

"...Not yet."

So they watched, at least until the Knight finally fell. By that point, the Sheikah had seen all they needed to see. Namely, their leader sensed an unknown power of sorts coming from the Knight, one that he was sure he'd seen before but couldn't place it. In any case, with a simple nod, the Sheikah sprang into action like a well-oiled machine. Their initial strike was from a distance, all three agents carrying crossbows that they used to pick off the ReDeads closest to the Knight's body. Once close enough, two of the agents used their throwing knives and Kodachi to keep the ReDeads at bay, at least for as long as they would be able to. But even just a few precious seconds was more than enough time for a Sheikah to act decisively.

The third Sheikah knelt by the Knight's unconscious form. He could see no other identifying features other than a nearly-faded Hyrule's Crests on his breastplate. That didn't make much sense, their intelligence indicated that most if not all the Knights of Hyrule were killed off during Ganondorf's initial invasion of Hyrule Castle. So how could one still be among the living now? Reaching for his pack, the Sheikah knew of one method to learn the answer, and quickly put on an eerie-looking mask. It was mostly kite-shaped, like a shield, but it had a slit cut into it for the eyes. It was pure white, with the Eye of Truth symbol of the clan painted on it in red. The Mask of Truth, or at least one that still survived. They used to be more commonly used by Sheikah a long time ago, but war with Ganondorf had seen the destruction of most of them. With the masks, though, one could briefly gaze into the thoughts of another person.

"Sorry to prod your mind, friend, but we don't have a lot of time for pleasantries." the Sheikah, a rarity for these people. Though, to be honest this particular Sheikah had a way of defying most of the traditional stereotypes of his people and yet somehow still reinforcing them in a way. With the mask, the Sheikah had a brief peek into the fallen Knight's memory. What he found was... surprising, to say the least. In actually, there was little to be found, which was itself the surprise. This meant the Knight had his mind wiped at some point, how or why was completely unknown. But what little was there, it was apparent this Knight still felt a burning hatred for Ganondorf and still fought with the desire to save his kingdom. But there was also a peculiar light in the Knight's memory, and this was certainly what interested the Sheikah more. This Knight, almost completely crazed and with little in the way of sanity, possessed a piece of the Triforce. That was what prompted the Sheikah to interfere, whoever this knight was he needed to be saved and brought back to Oasis.

Removing the Mask of Truth and returning it to his pack, the Sheikah looked to his brethren and said, "Form up, I'm getting us out of here." the two Sheikah silently obeyed, and stepped back as close to the Knight and their leader as they could. The leader, meanwhile, retrieved a golden flute from his pack and began blowing notes into it. He hurriedly played a song his people helped create, the Requiem of Spirit, and he repeated the song even while orange balls of light circled around him and his compatriots, whisking them into the sky. In the next instant, even as the Sheikah was still playing notes on the flute, the Sheikah and the Knight found themselves magically transported to a place in the desert, overlooked by a tall statue known as the Desert Colossus. Oasis was practically a stone's throw away, and without even missing a beat, the three Sheikah worked together to lift up the Knight to begin transporting him to where the Resistance waited.

Barely a few steps out from HQ he heard the thunderous voice of a man he was familiar with over the past week, referring to him as "Sir Knight". The commander of this establishment and resistance, Sir Gerik. He turned himself around fully to face the commander. He may not be of Hylian military, but he has chosen to fight under them, and so long as their cause was for Hyrule, then he would stay and obey commands.

"Before you go gallivanting into what could be your death, I suggest you volunteer for the contingent and leave with help at your side."

"First of all," Gerik began, "as soon as the supply convoy is rescued we're all going to sit down and have a nice, long discussion about this Triforce business, and what we're actually going to do with these pieces some of you have apparently felt the need to keep hidden. Secondly, I'm in no mood to babysit today, so either make yourselves useful or stay out of the way!"

Sigurd's own response was quick and decisive.

"Apologies Commander Gerik, but I had meant to scout the situation before acting, though if it is within best interest to move with the contingent as you say, then I shall do so", he began.

"And noted sir, simply call for me when we have assured the safety of the convoy". So now what to do but wait? The contingent based on estimates should be ready within minutes, so he need not wait long...

Location: Oasis: Resistance HQ, Streets, Rooftops

Interacting With: Gerik, Oblivious Merchant

The realization dawned on Cricket that the contingent of very mismatched professionals meant to leave immediately. As in, last person enters, everyone has briefing, they leave on mission. He glanced about at those assembled, silently counting. Unless the people present were very elite warriors, the few of them would not be attacking two dozen Moblins and a Lizalfos.

He reasoned that this number of his Clansmen could pull it off, given cover of darkness or a well staged trap; probably something involving range or bombs, but there was only Sheikah (himself), moreover no darkness nor opportunity to stage a trap. If he was going, he had to go prepared for battle. In the open, obvious battle allied with persons he had never worked with previously and varying in combat experience.

Cricket was going to need more knives.

A sudden, urgent look crossed his face, reflecting his thoughts on the numbers at play. He raised his hand, pausing it in front of himself, and motioned again to the water clock on the wall. The unspeaking Sheikah raised three fingers, then brought his thumb and forefinger close together, the way someone might when describing something very small. Apparently, he didn't mean to be very long, whatever he planned on doing.

Turning gracefully toward the door, he shed his long, brown coat, tossing it up into the air. The moment eyes began to follow the motion of the neutral garment, Cricket bolted for the exit. By the time it landed lightly on the back of the chair he intended to occupy, he was already out the door, running full tilt toward a destination unknown to all save himself.

The sky was lit a myriad of colors; chiefly reds and soft purples in the steadily growing morning light, streaking out into the more common yellow and blue colors of the daytime. It was a truly lovely sight that Cricket ignored as he placed one foot in front of the other, quietly and swiftly covering more distance than one might assume a man of his slighter dimensions capable. The concept of breaking stride didn't seem to enter his thought process as he came upon a gaggle of stray Cuccos. He leapt bodily, kicking off of the wall nearby and landing softly behind them, nary a feather ruffled nor unplucked reinforcements summoned at the behest of their clucking brethren.

Quickly, he turned down the next alleyway, out of sight of the rising sun. A merchant was unloading a cart full of date bread into the back of his storefront, packaged neatly in large reed baskets. Cricket was able to time his uninterrupted passage between the cart and the baker while the bulbous man's back was turned, arms laden with sweet and heavy edibles.

The alley terminated with a dead end, rising one story. Cricket flung two kunai ahead of himself, both striking horizontally into the wallface and sinking deeply, approximately five and eight feet from the ground, respectively. The ring pommels quivered slightly from the sudden stop, but they remained otherwise stable in their purpose as an ersatz ladder, which the agile Sheikah hurled himself skyward upon. It was a short few steps before a determined leap took him across a narrow alley on the opposite side of the structure he'd just scaled, and a second leap, this one vertical, to grasp the bottom of a windowsill.

Cricket's hands held solidly, lifting the slender young man's torso just enough to get one foot in the corner of the window. Peering inside for a moment confirmed his selection of buildings - this was indeed the warehouse upon which his residence was constructed.

Both feet firmly in the window, Cricket gave a Leap of Faith, kicking off hard and rotating halfway; just enough to catch the solid, square overhang of the roof while providing momentum sufficient to propel him from a hang below to a handstand above. He came to settle on the flat, mostly open roof, and took a single deep breath. He was home.

The "home" was really more of a solid shack of wood and stone, built atop a large structure that saw little in the way of foot traffic. It was quiet and afforded him both privacy and an excellent view of Oasis, including lands around. The entire roof of the warehouse served as his yard and training area, dotted every now and again with potted plants of various applications and featuring a low, external hearth suitable for cooking or warmth at night. The interior, while not spartan, was rather basic. Mostly it was a place for storage and sleeping, but it had a few personal amenities established over the months Cricket had lived in it. Lived part-time, anyway.

But he was not here for creature comforts. There was a slim, fitting backpack that he maintained from his days in the Kokiri Forest he meant to retrieve. It was always packed for a mission, be it long or short term. The pack held a deceptive amount of goods, was easy to access, and looked exactly like tree bark. Cricket liked it because it was balanced and didn't throw off his more delicate movement. Also, it was a memento of his home, back at the Outpost. He also grabbed a few more knives, a strong and flexible Deku Staff, and his Bomb Bag, then turned to leave.

Getting back was much easier. A broad leap from the side of the building ended in a shoulder roll onto the next one. He segued his parkour-worthy descent into another controlled fall, back into the alley with the merchant, reclaiming his knives in the process. A silent sprint toward the cart bearing date-bread turned into a low slide underneath it; he rose on the other side two large loaves richer and one rupee poorer, the latter left in the basket from which he purloined the former.

Cricket smiled broadly under his half mask. These were the moments that made life worthwhile.

Seconds later, the doors to Resistance HQ pushed open. The campaign-ready Sheikah stepped through, leaning on his Kokiri weapon with two large loaves tucked under an arm. He tossed the sweet, dense bread onto the table and motioned for others to help themselves. With a hand free, finally, he thumbed down his mask and leaned his staff against his coat on the back of the chair he had claimed just prior to his dramatic egress. In the absence of formality, he cut a formidable chunk for himself and awaited both the words of the Resistance officer in charge of the operation, and the arrival of the rest of his contingent.

Etzo snatched his hand back after the knight finally released it from his grasp, eyes narrowing as he watched the armored man for any further attempts to a cost him. After a few moments however the hylian regained his normal composure, a cramping sensation alerting him to the fact he had unconsciously gripped a vial filled with a rather viscous fluid sitting his robes. Unclenching his grasp, the young alchemist prepared to return to his pleas to have the deku examined when he was once more interrupted.

His eyes lit up a little as he saw the sheikah attempt to gain his attention. He'd seen a handful of the secretive race since coming to Oasis, though he was no stranger to the race having always been excited as a child to see Impa the few times she would come to the home in Kakariko village. He'd attemted to negotiating few times with the ones here, having always heard the warriors would on occasion use poisons and drugs on their missions, but the clans clung tightly to their own secerets.

Etzo was pulled from his thoughts as he saw the note the shiekah trying to draw his attention to the note on the table. Never one to deny his own curiosity, Etzo quickly read through the note, a look of discontent as he saw that his supplies were indeed seemingly in danger. This look was quickly replaced as he saw the report of the creatures attacking, his dreamy smile returning as he marveled at uses he could find with this collection of ingredients, and as luck would have it,  they were walking straight to him almost. He didn't particularly relish the idea of entering a skirmish, but those soldiers were damn butchers. Rarely could he find a usable part in the remains they brought back.

Besides, he doubted the men fighting would be likely to bring his bubbles home alive if they found them.

"First of all," Gerik began, "as soon as the supply convoy is rescued we're all going to sit down and have a nice, long discussion about this Triforce business, and what we're actually going to do with these pieces some of you have apparently felt the need to keep hidden. Secondly, I'm in no mood to babysit today, so either make yourselves useful or stay out of the way!"

The scrawny alchemist hesitated a moment, a groan escaping as he saw the knight who had so recently accosted him was coming along, but nevertheless his hand went up, "While I'm not particularly keen on joining the muscle on the field," he said, a hint of excitement raising the pitch of his voice, "it's be a shame to let such a specimen go to waste out there in the dunes, and I while I appreciate the efforts your men put towards protecting us" he said, catious as he continued "they're hardly what one could call precise, so if I could have but a moment to gather some supplies," Etzo continued as he already began edging towards the door "I'll be meeting your men at the gate," the last few words trailing off as he already headed out the door, not waiting to for any form of confirmation from the obviously agitated Gerik. As he made his way back to his workshop, the eccentric alchemist's head was a whirlwinf of activity, already preparing a mental list of supplies he could need.