Not a good time...not even close.

[hibbe]

Deep in the recesses of one of the scurviest taverns within the limits of Ordon the party was just getting started in the wee hours of the morning. Rowdy toughs, well satisfied with their night's bullying guffawed and pounded each other on the back with open hands chucking their friends forward with the force of their blows.

"An' you should have seen the old guy's face! I juss smacked 'im up agin' the wall and shoved m'stick in his gut. Once he was down th' shack were easy pickin's. Got this pritty necklace out o' the place an a bit o' coin to boot!" A musclebound Ordonian gloated. Too look at him one would be forced to consider that at some point some member of his family must have had some intimacy with a Moblin for their pig-ish features were plainly stamped across the Ordonian's face though none would dare say such to his face.

As he ordered another round of beer the door to the tavern crashed open and a young woman stood outlined in the doorway her breasts heaving as she drew in breath. It seemed she'd run the entire way to the bar from where ever she'd been. Several of the tough's whistled lewdly slamming down their mugs to stare at her appreciatively. Most of the patrons were used to the strung out look of bar-flies, those who would give a night's service for a few rupees or several rounds of potent alcohol. But this girl had the clean-limbed physicality of a simple hard-working girl just barely fallen over the cusp into womanhood. She was hardly above sixteen, not that such a fact would have mattered to any in the tavern.

Any save one who sprawled in the blackest corner of the tavern still pulling from his mug though sharp red eyes watched with interest at the scene the girl's entrance had created.

"That's my Grandma's!" She roared pointing to the trinket dangling from the pig-faced mugger's hand. Blinking slowly he took his time thinking over what the girl had said then a stupidly cruel grin crept over his features.

"Well lookie here! Seems this necklace weren't the only purty thing in that shack!" He rumbled to the appreciative hoots of the other low-lifes. "Why'ncha come over 'ere an' let us get a better look at yer." Piggy ordered gesturing the girl closer.

As if suddenly realising just what a nasty den of scum she had burst into the girl looked about herself uncertainly. All that greeted her were vile sneers and open lust for her body of a type she'd never before experienced. "I...I just want the necklace." She stammered backing away from a hand that had appeared from no-where to rip at her skirt.

"May'haps we twae can work out some kin'a deal." The braggart and old-person-beater-upper cackled striding purposely towards the girl who backed away from him nearly tripping over her own feet.

The two ended up on the street and for a moment all was silent as each patron watched the black doorway eager for whatever happened next. A scream and the sound of woven cloth ripping filled the air just before the young girl was thrust back through the door. She fell to her knees sobbing and clutching at the remainders of her top struggling to hide her breasts from the gleaming eyes around her. Pig-face walked in after her bearing shreds of her shirt high above his head in a clenched fist as though it were some trophy. "Yah! Now lets us all get a look at yer!" He roared kicking the girl forward dropping the shreds of cloth in favor of snatching his plaything up off the ground. Catching her in a great bearhug he wrapped his massive hands around her slim wrists and easily pulled her arm apart. Ample breasts spilled from her arms to bounce with her every struggle. The audience of villanous fiends were spellbound watching her breasts appreciatively caring little what effect the cruel revealing of her body had on the poor child.

All the villainous fiends save one. The stranger in the back corner's eyes creased in annoyance and he stood slipping his mug down on the rough hewn surface of his table. With a drunken stumble he began worming his way through the crowd of eager horny men heading for the massive pig-faced tough and his horrified victim.

Loud shouts and laughs filled the air as an Ordonian from the crowd rushed up to the girl and grasped her breast in a vicious grip smashing his lips against it even running his teeth across her nipple. She screamed and tried to kick him away but with a sneer the lewd man took the hits to his torso and in revenge ripped her skirt away revealing her panties and legs. Just as he reached for the last vestiges of cloth protecting her modesty an arm wrapped around his neck and with a simple clenching of muscles tightened instantly cutting him off from the air so necissary for his continued survival.

Shocked the girl looked down into his face that was quickly turning red then to the calm features behind him. The man currently choking the Ordonian had sharply fine features terribly marred by a series of scars tracing across the bridge of his nose, the corner of his lips, and over his burning red eye. She could just spy a long ear twitching irritably as he increased the pressure on the fellow's windpipe before wrenching him away from pig-face and his captive. With another lightning swift motion he threw the Ordonian into the crowd sending people scattering.

Pig-face looked down stupidly surprised by the turn of events. What had started as a great time was now something strange. And infuriating! Dropping the girl the massive Ordonian kicked her to the side and flexed his big hands getting his first really good look at his opponent. A man of small stature garbed in an alien suit of blue and crimson. He wore a mantle of pure white and emblazoned on the left shoulder...The Sheikah Eye.

Several petty crooks gasped. Who would have thought one of the mysterious and reviered Sheikah would be in their bar so far from Hyrule and the Royal Family? Then they noticed more details, the sallow skin, dark smudges under his eyes, and the general disheveled appearance. Pig-face seemed less impressed than most and he pulled down the neck of his shirt to reveal a brand, a death mark in fact. "Think you scare me little elf-man? I got the Death Mark in 'Yrule an' I killed your kind before." He rumbled sneering at the still silent Sheikah. "What's one more too me?"

Those were his last words, with silent efficiency the Sheikah snapped his wrist flicking blood from the straight edge of his blade and returning it to the oddly hung sheath on his back. Slowly he unclasped the Mantle from his neck and draped it over the girl before crouching next to the massive man's corpse and pulling the necklace from his stiffening fingers.

Helping the girl to her feet the Sheikah shoved the necklace in her hand and walked with her out the door already alert to the rumble of the patrons of the inn. Pig-face, for all his stupid greed had been well liked among the cut-throats for exactly the antics he'd tried to pull that very night. Despite the fearsome reputation of the Sheikah people as a whole their beer-sodden minds began to think that they could take the single one. Certainly such a dirty and unkept man had no allies hidden away in the shadows...

Gently pushing the girl in the direction of the real Ordon village the Sheikah said one word. "Go." Dazed and stumbling she went clutching the mantle around her shoulders. With a fluid movement the Sheikah turned to face the ruffians and strong-arms that swarmed from the seedy inn all bearing some manner of weapon which was unanymously poked in the Sheikah's direction.

Drawing his ninjato once more the Sheikah centered himself on the blade assuming a ready stance.

A brief pause as all prepared then the ruffians charged the lone Sheikah storming towards him like a tidal wave of violence.

[Cole Deschain]

A single shot rang out, dropping the lead thug like a sack of wet flour. A red-hared Ordonian stood not too far behind the Sheikah, a smoking flintlock in his left hand, a well-crafted saber in his right.

The "thunderclap" startled many of the ragged band into stopping in midstride.

The interloper raised his sword up to a ready position, while reversing his grip on the pistol, evidently prepared to wield it like a club.

"Coward's odds. I ought to kill the whole lot of you."

[hibbe]

The Sheikah blinked and looked behind him to see an Ordonian holding a finely crafted sword at the ready along with a pistol that still smoked in the other. Quite strange, he thought to himself, not many would readily assist one against so many.

The thugs, looking at their dead comrade gave voice to screams of rage and bloodlust pumping themselves up again! Without a moment's sympathy for the dead they charged again trampling the body beneath them as they met with the Sheikah who instantly slit a throat in nearly the same maneuver that he'd used earlier to much the same effect. Then he was surrounded and he exploded into motion his straight edged blade flickering through the hazy moonlight delivering pain to anything it touched.

[Cole Deschain]

The Ordonian swordsman gave the barest hint of a smile before he moved on the onrushing thugs like a strking snake. His sword weavedaround improvisved weapons to strike at hearts, while he parried clumsy strikes with his pistol, or simply evaded them. Eventually, however, he, like the Sheikah, was utterly surrounded.

Judging by the screams of pain and the sound of steel biting flesh, he didn't mind much.

[hibbe]

Moving with the ebb and flow of the crowd of thugs the Sheikah found himself backed against his mysterious companion. Grunting a form of acknowledgement the lithe warrior slid his blade down the length of a foe's and with a quick strike across the bridge of his nose blinded him with his own blood before smashing his hilt against the poor thug's head with a reverse strike that positioned his blade to block yet another blade!

[Cole Deschain]

His comrade replied with a similar grunt, using his paired weapons to screen their mutual flank, crushing or shearing off hands shifting his feet in time with the Sheikah.

It quickly became apparent that he'd learned more than a little about Sheikah swordsmanship, and he started to move in eerie syncronicty with his erstwhile comrade.

[hibbe]

Surprised by his forced comrade's knowledge of his tribe's style the Sheikah took advantage of the man's knowledge by letting himself run more freely attacking and defending with the fluid ferocity of his people trusting that the other would do much the same and require little watching though he was still careful to block any blades or weapons heading for the mysterious fellow's back.

Oddly enough this eventually included an arrow. Looking up in consternation the Sheikah easily picked out the wobbly silhouette of the archer who, despite being extraordinarily inebriated had managed to clamber on to the roof of the inn with his bow and a full quiver of arrows. Now he knocked another arrow to the bow and let fly this time aiming for the Sheikah who blocked it with a swiftly raised gauntlet using the position that movement left him in to bring his elbow cracking down on an unwary man's skull.

"It seems fate has no great liking of you." The Sheikah remarked pinning the archer on his talented comrade's bad luck omitting his starting the fight entirely.

[Cole Deschain]

"Fair enough."

He opened one man;'s thoat with his saber while his pistol's handle crushed the cheekbone of another, sending the drunkard to the ground.

"I have little use for Fate. On your left."

He made no move to intercept the oncoming knife thrust, trusting his companion to know what to do with the warning.

[hibbe]

His forearm came up once more blocking the clumsy thrust and he snapped his fist out clobbering the thug's face in retaliation bringing his sword around to slit the neck of the man behind him even as the first thug fell.

Flowing with his momentum the Sheikah fell into a tumble that brought his leg down in the crux between neck and shoulder downing a third that was kept down by a resounding kick to the back.

Flipping back to his feet the Sheikah wasted little time in snapping his blade across the heavy wood of a cudgel that had only minutes before been a table leg sending splinters into the wielder's face. Another arrow zipped into the ground hardly an inch from the Sheikah's face and he grimaced annoyed that the archer had yet to fall off the roof.

[Cole Deschain]

"He is annoying, isn't he?"

The red-haired Ordonian brought his blade around in several vicious redondo arcs, getting a little breathing room.

"If you can clear me, I can probably take care of him."

[hibbe]

Giving an affirmative the Sheikah stepped up his pace becoming what was essentially a killing machine as with every swing of his blade he dismembered or slayed a man. A sudden burning pain filled his back as an arrow sprouted from his right shoulderblade just above his sheath eliciting an annoyed growl from the Sheikah. "Sooner is better." He managed to say through grit teeth stabbing his blade deep into a man's chest before viciously ripping it back out with a tight flourish that cleared the blade of blood splattering it across his foes sending a few stumbling backwards in shock and disgust.

[Cole Deschain]

He caught a glimpse of his companion, who had stuck his pistol back through his belt, evidently unmindful of the blood caking the handle His right still held his saber, which he contnued to whirl about him in a gleaming lethal circuit. His left hand held something small, brown... and instantluy recognizable as a Deku Nut. Even as the horde of drunkards pressed closer, he let the nut fly with a practiced snap of his wrist, sending ti directly at the archer's face, where it burst as it had been grown to do.

[hibbe]

Screaming thickly the archer fell forward off the roof of the Inn to land on the cobblestones with the sincerely painful sounding crunch of bone on stone. The Sheikah yanked the arrow from his back with his left hand then without pausing deposited it in a tough's eyesocket.

Within moments the two found themselves alone in a wide circle of angry faces though none of the ruffians seemed eager to charge the two alert warriors again. Spinning clockwise in syncronization with the Ordonian warrior helping him the Sheikah looked for any sign of anger great enough to elict a sudden charge or throw from the tough's around him.

[Cole Deschain]

The Ordonian seemed mildly amused by the whole business, even with dead and maimed men littering the ground around them.

'What's the matter? You finally realize we aren't some little girl or old man?"

His green eyes darted from one man to another as if daring them to make a move.

"Go home."

[hibbe]

A few on the outskirts of the pack actually did just that. This sort of thing was far from their comfort zones of back alleys and surprise backstabbings. Some others were enjoying things much more apparently for they dropped whatever crude weapons they happened to have grabbed in the heat of the moment and unsheathed their blades.

These toughs were the sort that acted as cheap bodyguards and message men. They had fighting blood in them and now it was raised far beyond what many a less experienced person would have thought healthy for the toughs' foes.

The Sheikah heaved a sigh at this and shifted his stance slightly bringing his blade to bear once more on the ruffian closest him. "Unkindly put stranger, but more than apt where these simpletons are concerned." He said keeping his eyes firmly locked on the man he'd chosen as the first too attack. Experience proved him right as the man raised his blade and stepped forward bringing it across in a chop that forced the Sheikah to block.

At nearly the same instant three men attacked the Ordonian from different angles all sure that their blade would be the one to pierce his guard!

[Cole Deschain]

He became an elegant blur of motion, deflecting the first two with ease. Then he slipped in the pool of blood they'd created, and narrowly avoided being skewered by the third, the blade raking alongside of his ribs. His sword swung out in a lateral stroke, disemboweling the man who'd dared to wound him, even as his hand ducked into his pouch.

[hibbe]

the Sheikah twirled and his swordarm was like a bolt of lightning constantly striking in different directions. He easily overwhelmed the guard of his most pressing foe and slid his blade down the man's chest suddenly stabbing it deep into his stomach as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

His left hand shot out sending a hand full of shuriken flying, all of which lodged themselves in flesh eliciting anonymous screams from the crowd of aggressors.

The two toughs attacking the Ordonian swordsman eagerly pressed forward hoping to capitalize on his sudden fortuitous weakness.

[Cole Deschain]

Their eagerness cost them dearly, as he deftly reversed his grip on the hilt, striking towards his back with it, neatly impaling one of them, while his foot snapped out, pushing the other back for a split second.
During which he withdrew the sword from his impaled adversary and whipped the razor-sharp edge up at the rowdy, slicing him from crotch to sternum.

His hand emerged from the pouch, holding a small, but very visible bomb.

"No more playing."

[hibbe]

As drunk as they were none mistook the bomb for anything but that. They immediately backed away from the swordsman and even those harrassing the Sheikah retreated abruptly leaving the tacturn Hylian very confused...

[Cole Deschain]

Holding the sword in one hand and the bomb in the other, the Ordonian grinned savagely.

"You cretins want to play rough? I'm game. Now slink back to your ratholes, or I see how many pieces I can splatter on the walls."

[hibbe]

The sheikah quirked an eyebrow, surprised by his strange comrade's tactics. He had hardly expected such ferocity even having seen the Ordonian in action. The ruffians were equally surprised and disenheartened by the loss of so many comrades. Many dropped their weapons or sheathed them vanishing into the shadows leaving only a few die-hards apparently determined too stick it out to the end or at least see whether the Ordonian was bluffing or not.

[Cole Deschain]

Still grinning, the red-haired swordsman addressed the last holdouts.

"I warned you."

With that, he dropped his sword, pulled the pistol out of his belt, and struck its flint next to the bomb's fuse, then gently lobbed the bomb directly at the largest concentration of thugs, the fuse burning quickly.

The bomb exploded quite impressively.

[hibbe]

The result was no less impressive. As the heavy smoke slowly rose it revealed a macabre scene of dissassociated limbs and impressive splatters of blood and flesh. The Sheikah flicked his wrist clearing his blade before returning it to his sheath. What few scumbags remained were completely cowed by the callous display. Under the weight of his haughty eyes they slunk away like mongrel dogs that had been beaten by a bigger beast.

[Cole Deschain]

The Ordonian casually wiped his saber on the back of on of the more intact men he'd killed, and likewise sheathed his blade, before cleaning out the workings of his pistol.

He nodded to the SHeikah.

"Sorin."

[hibbe]

The Sheikah was silent for a long moment examining the Ordonian, Sorin, with a laser-like intensity before finally he nodded in return. "Sevant." He said slowly stretching out a gauntleted hand in an unexpected show of comraderie.

[Cole Deschain]

Sorin took the hand with a grin.

"Nice work, Sevant."

[hibbe]

Giving the fellow warrior a firm clasp Sevant nodded shortly. "Acceptable...given the condition of our foes." He said. His dialect was so sharp and precise it almost sounded foreign as his Hylian showed none of the lazy sounds or shortenings so common ammong the populace.

[Cole Deschain]

"Well, one on one, they were meat, but they could have prevailed through sheer numbers."

He idly kicked a severed hand away

"So, if i may ask, what started this?"

[hibbe]

"A young woman with little practical knowledge." Sevant said his eyes narrowing as he remembered the young girl. Without explaining he centered himself and crouched over a still pool of blood. Splaying his fingers over it the Sheikah chanted a short phrase in an obscure dialect. The blood was still for a moment, then it quivered and slowly a picture formed. Exhaling heavily Sevant watched the puddle as it cleared even more finally showing a young girl wrapped in a mantle that certainly didn't belong to her as she lacked most of the distinctive features that would mark her as worthy of the Sheikah Eye bearing poncho.

[Cole Deschain]

"Huh. Just a kid. What business did she have with scum like this?"