The Scramble [Complete]

[Violet]

She was largely ignored by the growing crowd, something that both pleased and annoyed her. She hated being a focal point, but for the situation they were in, she wouldn’t mind being an interim “chieftain” that they needed. The only thing was, even a chieftain needed to know what the hell he or she was facing, and fuck all if she didn’t know a thing about her surroundings nor the strange creatures that kept popping up like mushrooms after a spring rain. She counted nine, including herself, and expected more to come.

The giant humanoid, with his olive colored skin, bright, fiery hair, and strange eyes, responded to her plea with nary a grunt and a piercing stare. His mouth twitched as he prepared to respond, but a voice cut him off, and Garona’s attention turned towards her.

The blonde was tall, but just slightly less taller than she. She had eyes the color of the ocean, and skin so pale, it was as if moonlight were trapped beneath her flesh. Her body was slight, making Garona wonder if she’d survive a battle should it ever come down to it. Surely not, she thought. Someone that tiny would be simply a blockade between more ample warriors, perhaps even a hindrance. Someone that small would have been shunned from the tribe, although not altogether banished. There would always be something for even the most frail member of the tribe to do that would contribute to their preservation, regardless of size or infirmity.

Garona’s gaze drew upward to her pale tresses. Her hair reminded the Orc of sun-bleached straw, but appeared to be as soft as a newborn talbuk calf’s fur. It glistened in the ambient light, capturing and reflecting strands of the purest gold and the brightest of whites. Garona grunted and furrowed her brow, wanting to disguise her ping of jealousy. Garona’s hair was as black as a raven’s wing, and just as soft, but a few times in her life, she’d wondered what it would be like to have something different…to be different. The closest she’d ever come was imitating the image of another being, but the illusion never lasted for long. It was never good enough, but it was all she could do.

“If you didn’t know already, I think we’re being watched;” the flaxen beauty pointed towards a distant location, where two tiny pinpricks which Garona could only assume were people, stood. “Over there, too.”

Garona’s eyes followed the direction of her finger, her spine straightening as her hands rested anxiously on the pummels of her weapons. Before she could respond, two other women also took notice. “Who are they?” one asked, turning towards the human who called herself Eighteen. Strange name. “I think we should talk to them!”

“Do we know why they’re here?” The third woman asked. This one had dark hair, like Garona’s, that fell down her back in silken waves. Her skin was the color of tanned leathers, and seemed to be just as soft. Her eyes were red, much like her own when she was at her most irritated, except these seemed to be permanent. It was strange, and made her slightly apprehensive. Eyes that color were only found on the most dangerous of creatures, and although her slight appearance was barely worth being on guard for, Garona had to remind herself that appearances were not always honest. “Or, more to the point,” her cherry eyes flicked to the blonde, “what they want from us?”

Garona took the opportunity to step in, her eyes travelling from one woman to the other. “Perhaps they are like us;” Garona mused. “There could be another portal. I think we should be cautious.” As cautious as I am of all of you, Garona thought to herself. Her hands moved from her weapons to rest on the wide flare of her leather-clad hips. “Should we investigate them?”

Eighteen’s brows drew together as a thought moved behind her eyes. “That’s possible,” she murmured. “But unlikely. Why would they appear over there instead of here with the rest of us?”

“Yeah, why all the way over there?” Nyx replied, her arms crossing over her ample chest.

“It doesn’t seem right at all,” Whirda said, her gaze fixated on the figures in the distance.

“Someone has to go check it out,” Eighteen’s attention came to rest on Garona, as if expecting her to volunteer.

“We’re all weakened. If they attack, we will not be able to defend ourselves for long,” Garona stated. “It’s a foolish idea.”

“If you go alone, perhaps;” the blonde looked back towards the figures. “But if a group of us goes over, outnumbering them, we could defend ourselves properly.”

“How far away do you think they are?” Nyx asked.

“I have no idea,” Garona replied. “What if they’re the ones that brought us here? If so, we could be walking straight to our deaths.”

“To which we would respawn, as Omni insinuated,” Ganondorf, as he had introduced himself, said as he approached. “Even if you were to die, it would only be temporary. I wouldn’t want to be the first one to test that theory out, though.” He chuckled.

She was fearful, but she wasn’t a coward. No one who knew her would ever accuse her of that. But, as Garona weighed the decision in her mind, she wondered if stepping back from the situation would be considered such. Yes… a voice in the back of her head admonished. These fools don’t have the balls to do it themselves. This is your chance to prove yourself a capable leader to these creatures. If none step forward, then it should be you. The lesser creatures respect those who take initiative. Garona couldn’t help but agree with the logic.

“I’ll go. Alone.” She announced, her face a mask of determination and bravery, even if her muscles felt heavy from fear. She would go regardless. And if she failed, then so be it.