02-08-2014, 06:54 PM
Ganondorf stifled a chuckle as Eighteen moved past him and took control of the situation. It seemed that her trust issues with him extended to conversing with the locals. As the older woman left to attend to the tea, Ganondorf momentarily considered reprimanding Eighteen for usurping his role as the spokesperson of their little group. A second consideration, no longer, and he decided it wasn’t worth the effort. The Gerudo would still obtain the information he desired, and perhaps by allowing this minor act of rebellion on her part the seed of trust would finally begin to grow.
Entering the cottage behind the two women, Ganondorf scanned his surroundings nearly as fervently as Eighteen had. The furnishings were plain and old, though obviously well cared after. No fire adorned the hearth, the woman obviously trying to keep a low profile. The child that he had seen with her was also nowhere to be seen. Ganondorf hadn’t seen the child exit the room either. The discrepancy irked the King, but perhaps he’d merely assumed the presence of a child with the motherly woman. Yes, that had to be it. Just a play of the dim lighting and his own assumptions.
Since Eighteen had taken a seat at the table, with only two worn chairs for company, Ganondorf resigned himself to standing by the door, which he closed behind him. Perhaps the villager would assume him to be some sort of bodyguard for his blonde companion; he certainly had the build for one. And even if she did not, his position would allow him to watch over their conversation as well as keeping an ear open for any sounds in the town. Both himself and Eighteen seemed to have come to an unspoken agreement not to speak in the interim between the woman leaving and her return with a steaming kettle and three small mugs. She set the items onto the table, motioned for Ganondorf to take a cup for himself (which he declined with a small shake of his head), and, taking the other seat for herself, began relating what she knew. As she spoke, it seemed that the impromptu ruse had worked, as she mostly spoke to Eighteen.
It seemed as though the beast was known as a Rathalos. Where it had come from, no one knew, but where it flew death followed. The King had called all able-bodied men to battle the beast, and it seemed as though their efforts had failed. The woman’s own husband had been called to the King’s Regiment, and she did not know of his fate. After the failure to slay the beast, the King had sent out two new missives. The first was for any able-bodied Primes to come to Camelot’s aid, citing a reward for the beast’s death. The second was for any in the outlying villages to seek shelter within the city proper. The woman had be alone in staying behind, citing that her and her husband’s family had been among the first to settle in the village and that she would not be chased out by any man or beast. She also alluded that she would not leave until her husband was either declared dead, or came home.
When Eighteen prompted her for more information on this Rathalos, the woman claimed that she did not know anything other than what the King had told his people. It was large, winged, and could breath fire. It seemed to have a voracious appetite for destruction and flesh. It seemed that most that had been able to see anything further had been subjected to its wrath.
Ganondorf sighed as the woman went on. She obviously knew nothing that would help them. Eighteen seemed more patient with the woman, on occasion comforting the older woman and seeming to be able to withstand the extraordinary long-windedness of her speech. Eventually, Ganondorf could stand no more and he quietly took his leave of the domicile. Eighteen merely watched him go, blue eyes boring holes into him. The woman didn’t seem to notice or car.
Back outside, the Gerudo walked back to his mount, which had waited patiently in the middle of the road for him to finish. Patting the stallion on the neck, Ganondorf allowed himself a small smile before letting it fall as he surveyed the town again. Empty. A ghost town… and considering the child he had seen, perhaps it really was. That boy bothered Ganondorf, and the man didn’t quite know why. Perhaps it had been how the lad had looked at him. It was as though the boy could read his mind.
But that boy hadn’t even been real. Merely a trick of the light. The Gerudo King calmed himself with that, before a sound broke through his train of thought. A scraping noise, as though something metal was dragging through the dirt. The rough clank of armor came with it, and somewhere further out a hoarse cry of some beast sounded. Ganondorf cursed himself for his lack of attention and turned to the sound. The former sounds had seemingly come from a man making his way down the main street. The warrior, for he assuredly was with his attire, seemed much the worse for wear. Perhaps he had just come from a battle, and considering the other sound which had broken the King’s inattentiveness, it seemed likely that the man had been fighting the beast he’d come here to dispose of.
Before this newcomer could get close enough for Ganondorf to converse with, the cry returned, this time just outside of the town, apparently also coming from the main entryway to the village. Whatever it was, it soon became obvious that it wasn’t the Rathalos. No… it was.
Ganondorf chuckled softly and waited patiently. It had been awhile since he’d seen the woman riding that… creature, and he expected that their reunion would be quite amusing.
Entering the cottage behind the two women, Ganondorf scanned his surroundings nearly as fervently as Eighteen had. The furnishings were plain and old, though obviously well cared after. No fire adorned the hearth, the woman obviously trying to keep a low profile. The child that he had seen with her was also nowhere to be seen. Ganondorf hadn’t seen the child exit the room either. The discrepancy irked the King, but perhaps he’d merely assumed the presence of a child with the motherly woman. Yes, that had to be it. Just a play of the dim lighting and his own assumptions.
Since Eighteen had taken a seat at the table, with only two worn chairs for company, Ganondorf resigned himself to standing by the door, which he closed behind him. Perhaps the villager would assume him to be some sort of bodyguard for his blonde companion; he certainly had the build for one. And even if she did not, his position would allow him to watch over their conversation as well as keeping an ear open for any sounds in the town. Both himself and Eighteen seemed to have come to an unspoken agreement not to speak in the interim between the woman leaving and her return with a steaming kettle and three small mugs. She set the items onto the table, motioned for Ganondorf to take a cup for himself (which he declined with a small shake of his head), and, taking the other seat for herself, began relating what she knew. As she spoke, it seemed that the impromptu ruse had worked, as she mostly spoke to Eighteen.
It seemed as though the beast was known as a Rathalos. Where it had come from, no one knew, but where it flew death followed. The King had called all able-bodied men to battle the beast, and it seemed as though their efforts had failed. The woman’s own husband had been called to the King’s Regiment, and she did not know of his fate. After the failure to slay the beast, the King had sent out two new missives. The first was for any able-bodied Primes to come to Camelot’s aid, citing a reward for the beast’s death. The second was for any in the outlying villages to seek shelter within the city proper. The woman had be alone in staying behind, citing that her and her husband’s family had been among the first to settle in the village and that she would not be chased out by any man or beast. She also alluded that she would not leave until her husband was either declared dead, or came home.
When Eighteen prompted her for more information on this Rathalos, the woman claimed that she did not know anything other than what the King had told his people. It was large, winged, and could breath fire. It seemed to have a voracious appetite for destruction and flesh. It seemed that most that had been able to see anything further had been subjected to its wrath.
Ganondorf sighed as the woman went on. She obviously knew nothing that would help them. Eighteen seemed more patient with the woman, on occasion comforting the older woman and seeming to be able to withstand the extraordinary long-windedness of her speech. Eventually, Ganondorf could stand no more and he quietly took his leave of the domicile. Eighteen merely watched him go, blue eyes boring holes into him. The woman didn’t seem to notice or car.
Back outside, the Gerudo walked back to his mount, which had waited patiently in the middle of the road for him to finish. Patting the stallion on the neck, Ganondorf allowed himself a small smile before letting it fall as he surveyed the town again. Empty. A ghost town… and considering the child he had seen, perhaps it really was. That boy bothered Ganondorf, and the man didn’t quite know why. Perhaps it had been how the lad had looked at him. It was as though the boy could read his mind.
But that boy hadn’t even been real. Merely a trick of the light. The Gerudo King calmed himself with that, before a sound broke through his train of thought. A scraping noise, as though something metal was dragging through the dirt. The rough clank of armor came with it, and somewhere further out a hoarse cry of some beast sounded. Ganondorf cursed himself for his lack of attention and turned to the sound. The former sounds had seemingly come from a man making his way down the main street. The warrior, for he assuredly was with his attire, seemed much the worse for wear. Perhaps he had just come from a battle, and considering the other sound which had broken the King’s inattentiveness, it seemed likely that the man had been fighting the beast he’d come here to dispose of.
Before this newcomer could get close enough for Ganondorf to converse with, the cry returned, this time just outside of the town, apparently also coming from the main entryway to the village. Whatever it was, it soon became obvious that it wasn’t the Rathalos. No… it was.
Ganondorf chuckled softly and waited patiently. It had been awhile since he’d seen the woman riding that… creature, and he expected that their reunion would be quite amusing.