Open The Great War of Hyrule

OOC Thread​

Tents of all colors and shapes litter the space nearby. The setting sun dyes the sky orange, and whispers pass through the land of the nearby army possibly falling.

A group of three to four hundred soldiers crowds the entrance to Kokiri Forest. The murmur among themselves as the rumor of Larah, the former commander of the small army, being dead is confirmed by her right-hand, Maeglin Carnesir, steps up, silencing the crowd, and begins to speak.

"My Friends! I hope to use such a term of endearment towards you all in the coming days. I do not expect you to care for me, or even to follow my orders. There is nothing keeping you here, and I will gladly let you come and go as you please.

"Our previous commander, Larah, rest her soul, was one of the strongest of heart among any of us. Unfortunately, she lacked the skills necessary to keep this army fully functioning. That is why I resolve to wipe the slate clean. You shall be reassigned, for maximum efficiency. When I am finished, I will tell you where to listen for your squad numbers.

"On a seperate note, I'd like to thank you all for dedicating yourselves, for risking your lives. I've no wish to see this land ravaged by its own people, as I'm sure you don't. Or perhaps you are in for yourselves? Whatever the reason, I appreciate each and every one of you." He smiles, and points to a random soldier in the front, a man of small stature with a perfect small man's complex. "Except for you." Everyone laughed at the joke, save the small man. He glared around angrily, asking what was so funny. "I'm not serious about that, friend.

"However! I would like to tell you this much; Please, if you must fight amongst yourselves, I would ask that it please be a controlled fight, or else I'd be forced to banish you from this army. And we need every man we get. We are vastly outnumbered, and no one, not even the Kokiri, will give us soldiers. The Kokiri have offered us a sanctuary in their woods if need be.

"Now, if you would please. To my left, second names begining with A-F will be assigned. I will assign H-P, and on my right, my friend here will give Q-Z. If you have no second names, then you shall be called by your first and only! Good luck, my friends! May your blades always strike true! And first! Haha!"

The squad number being assigned would be called, followed by the list of names.

The man on the left called out, "Squad 13! Aserah! Alyimar! Squad..."

Maeglin shouted, "Squad 13! Jagoron! Krimxes! Otsuto! Squad..."

The man on the right screamed with a heavy highland accent. "Squad 13! Ross! Tarunya! Squad..."

The names of Squad 13 were called, and thus began our tale.

...Suppose that's what I get for not enlisting with a surname. Oh well, shouldn't be so bad... I hope.

Asherah stole a glance at those surrounding her. Perhaps they would prove trustworthy in time, but for now, she would be on her toes. A slight pain shot through the old scar on her chest... probably her mind playing tricks on her.

Fingers tapped against the brown leather sheath of her sword. "Hmmm..." Asherah's left hand gravitated down toward a canteen clipped to her belt. It had been a few hours since she had last been at Lake Hylia with her men... hopefully her platoon was not getting suspicious. She had already woven a tale about "diplomatic measures" to get herself here... she'd have to come up with quite a story to get herself out of this...

She took a deep swig from the canteen. Hopefully this would all turn out to be worth it. To not see war again... that would be nice.

Hmmm... those katars are nice-lookin'. Her eyes were on the weaponry of a Gerudo woman in the crowd. But quickly they diverted up again, in the direction of the lake. She briefly wondered what the orders might be, so she could plan what she should do next.

Men are so...pungent.
The faintest hint of disgust was evident on the face of the Gerudo woman, or at least in her eyes; the remainder of her face was veiled at the time. There was an obvious lack of female representation here today, a fact which annoyed and confused her. Surely there were many women fighting elsewhere? Why were they not here? She had seen only a handful, and even fewer of her own race, although this was no surprise; few Gerudo had reason to venture beyond their well-protected fortresses.
I suppose that makes me the exception to that rule, then.
Her surname was called, along with a few others, for Squad 13 and Ambra crossed her arms. That number was a symbol of misfortune amongst her people, a bad sign if she ever saw one.

Ambra stood near to the back of the large assembly, closer to the many tents pitched in the campsite. A snort reminded her that she was not alone and she looked over her shoulder at the pretty mare that she called a companion, who was watching her with large dark eyes. People were beginning to bustle about, getting ready to move to their groups, and Ambra decided to do the same, collecting the loose rope halter that Anat wore when stabled and gently leading her through the crowd. Her exotic appearance drew several looks as she headed towards her meeting point, but this was quickly offset by the piercing look she threw at those who stared. She liked how the grass felt on her bare feet, even if it was still a foreign feeling.

However foreign she may have looked, however, was nothing compared to the creature she now saw. From a place about as far removed from the desert as possible, a Zora stood staring wistfully at the lake. Ambra wondered how well a Zora would survive for extended periods without water. Whilst the Zora had little characteristics to divide male and female, she recognised enough similarities to herself to deduce that this one was female,
and as she stopped nearby she softened somewhat; it was only natural to be a little more accepting of other women, until they proved they were not worth her trust. Anat lowered her head to graze and Ambra decided to allow the Zora some time alone, instead petting Anat distractedly on the neck. They would have enough time to talk soon enough.

((Despite my acceptance, I can't help but notice that I'm not on the official list.)

Lee Krimxis had a knife at the ready as he approached the meeting place, staying as hidden as he could possibly be in a place like this. He might not have bothered, given the attention that everyone was placing on the head soldier, but several years of a contract killer told him to keep as low of a profile as possible, and have a weapon ready for when things inevitably go downhill.

Right now, the Sheikah was perched on a tree branch, listening in on everything Maeglin was saying, and being thoroughly disgusted by all of it. This man was delusional, thinking that a group could actually put an end to a war this massive. The war had been going on for all these years - Lee benefiting during each and every one of them, mind you - and he didn't see any sign of it stopping. Not at this point.

But looking down on these fools was not why he was here. Keeping an eye on these fools was why Lee had been hired to go to this location. And he would do just that, until he received further orders from his client. Once those orders were received (and if the pay was reasonable enough), Lee would carry them out, and then...

Well, after that, even Lee couldn't guess what would happen.

I suppose I'll deal with that when it happens, Lee thought, and continued to survey the scene, listening for any possible familiar names.

Ana shifted on her feet, gazing at everyone around her. She hummed a song she made up to herself, having nothing else to do:

The sacred realm's treasure, it lies beyond,
beyond our reach, our hearts, our mortal bond,
with hands of blood and war we reach for skies
to receive what we don't deserve. For prizes
that lie beyond, the nations fight for not
as they will fall into decaying rot.
Thus peacemakers shall come to serve the gods
thus known, and not rulers of Hyrule rods.
O goddesses we need your strength to win,
O goddesses we need wisdom within!

Otsuto heard his name called by Maeglin
"Jagoron! Krimxes! Otsuto!
A smile crept across his covered face. He had never met these people but hopefully they would be more interesting then his current squad, and more trust worthy. He scanned the crowd of various soldiers and assasins. He knew that is what they all were. He looked up at Maeglin again. There was something a little too excited about his newfound power like he had been wanting it. If the army had a dishonorable leader how could they prevail. He began to work his way closer to the front from his spot in the middle. He didn't want to miss his meeting spot.

Jagoron raised his head slowly, hearing his name called by the hylian called Maeglin.

He listened respectfully to the speech. Listening closely, trying to read between his words. It seemed strange to him that Maeglin worded Larah's death so carefully. "She lacked the skills necessary to keep this army fully functioning." Jagoron suspected something more than was obvious.

He shook his head, and leaned back to look at the sky. What was he thinking? I have no reason to suspect him of anything, why am I looking for one?

Jagoron sighed, wondering once more whether joining this army was his best plan. A 'Peace-Seeker's Army' they called it. What nonsense was that? How could peace, of all things, be found through soldiers and war?

He sat back up, looking around at the rest of the squad. He counted two Sheikah, two Hylians, a Zora, and two Gerudo. Eight altogether, including him. He watched each one for a moment, wondering what drove each of them to fight in this war.

He smiled, noticing that the younger Gerudo was humming some old melody. He did have a love for all Hylian music, and this one sounded vaguely familiar. For a moment, he considered asking her about it, but pushed the thought away quickly. It wasn't the time.

Jagoron looked back towards the speaker, Maeglin, and waited patiently for him to finish the squad assignments.

Maeglin called once more for silence. When the troops had, for the most part, silenced themselves, he began once more. "You may have noticed the red pavilions scattered throughout the camp. Each has a number on the picket next to it. You will bring yourself and any belongings you have the the area around the tent with your corresponding squad number. I very much hope that you are already aware who your squadmates are. If not, this is where you shall meet them. Your tent shall serve as your debate hall, so to speak.

"If any of you should require my assistance, I'll most likely be in the command pavilion." He indicated the larger red pavilion previously used by Larah, located behind him. "I hope you may grow close to your squadmates. Just remember, there's nothing keeping you here. Should you be ordered to do something, you have every right to refuse, or to leave the encampment.

"Now before I allow you to meet your new comrades, I must tell you the latest news. I'm sure you've heard the rumor of the Gerudo King confering with the King of Hyrule. There's a possibility of an alliance, but as of now, it's on the fence between the two. While the Gerudo King is offering alliance, the Gorons and Zoras sit, and wait, and the pressure continues to build. Eventually, something will release. Explode. I feel that they would gladly accept a little relief. I will choose a squad to go and offer alliance to one of these two. You may or may not expect me later in the night.

"Now, I bid you farewell! And remember... Remember Larah. What She died for. I hope you are all strong enough to make the same sacrifice. And I hope, even more, that we don't need to find out if you are." Maiglin's eyes had glassed over, and he stood looking out at the soldiers for a moment before briskly turning away from the crowd, biting his lip and staring at the ground as he walked.
---

Maltah scoffed. Unlucky 13 MY ASS. He hadn't heard of most of his new comrades, save the one called Aserah. Even then, his knowledge was brief. Just a name he remembered from somewhere.

He quickly left the crowd behind, and gathered what few personal belongings he had near his small one-man tent, and carried it all to Pavilion Number 13, dropping his things to the right of the tent. A wooden post was next to the pavilion, a one painted in red at the top, a three just below it. Maltah peeked inside. There was nothing but dead grass inside.

Ana had been watching him from a distance and quickly yet quietly dashed over when he dropped his stuff, and attempted to nab it and run off. She is extremely quiet, but could be detected however if Maltah has good enough feeling for what's around him. If successful, she will go throw it later. If not, she will draw her scimitar at hand.

"...Lucky 13."

Asherah yawned as the meeting drew to a close. She crept up on a singular tent and grabbed the small satchel of supplies provided by her militia. About all she had brought with her, but she prayed it would be enough to last her until she could attain more in secret.

It couldn't be too hard, could it? After all, she had spent those three years in training, slipping out unnoticed... Okay, not entirely unnoticed. Clearly something had caught her eventually, but three years still wasn't bad. Not in her book.

She took another swig of her canteen. She hoped she would not run out of water too quickly... she'd hate to dry up when the journey was just beginning. Of course... she would also have to watch out, she thought, for there could be spies in among those honest in their goals. Poisoned water certainly would not be fun to deal with...

At last, she reached a large pavilion with a post next to it reading '13'. "Must be it then..." peering inside, she saw nothing but a Hylian, and a bunch of dead grass. Making a certain face of uncertainty, she cleared her throat.

"Ah... hello there. Empty in here, isn't it?"

"That it is." Maltah nodded, his eyes flicking at the Zora before he shrugged his shoulders, and decided he might as well be the first to get a bit of decor in the pavilion.

He turned around, and went for his belongings to get a pillow or a cushion of sorts, and was surprised to see a Gerudo skulking near his things. Not too surprised, given their reputation but still mildly shocked. "Why, hello there, miss. Just coming to fetch a few things. You don't mind if I take this, do you?" He didn't wait for an answer, simply reaching for his little bundle of possessions. He wasn't entirely sure if she had been stealing it, but given the sterotype, it was the most likely scenario.

"Your name would be...?" He raise an eyebrow at the Gerudo. I wonder... Did she intend on sticking around the encampment after nabbing a few things?

"Sorry sir, your bag looks just like mine, and it got lost in the commotion getting here, I've been looking for it the good majority of the day." said Ana. "My name is Supana Egul, you can call me Ana if you so choose." She quickly but not abruptly changed the topic. "That is a nice sword, can I see it?" she said pointing to the sheathed claymore.

"...and I hope, even more, that we don't need to find out if you are."

Jagoron thought to himself quietly about Maeglin, as he finished speaking.

He was beginning to doubt their chances of success. Maeglin had told them that they were basically free to do what they wanted. Jagoron didn't like strict, military orders and ranks usually, but he felt that when trying to create an organized unit with the ability to actually accomplish something, there had to be a chain of command.

And then there was the matter of contacting the Zora and the Goron. Jagoron hadn't spent enough time with the Zora to know how they would react to something like an alliance, but he did know that the Goron, however peaceful they may be, could be incredibly stubborn. He hoped that, if the time came, he would be able to persuade some of his kin to accept the offer.

He sighed. What are we all coming to? he said to himself, Why is peace so difficult?

Jagoron looked out over the people and pavilions of the field. There were very many, to be sure, but it was still a small army compared to the likes of the Hylian military. It seemed impossible that they had any chance at all.

But, he thought, We have to start somewhere. Even if it seems impossible.

He pulled his old, dusty backpack onto his shoulders. He hadn't brought much. No food to speak of--he didn't need it, of course--but he had some equipment and several personal items. He began to feel better, thinking about his journeys, all with this same bag.

With a hint of a smile on his face, Jagoron slowly made his way towards the tent marked with a 13. He could see the faint shadows of several people already inside.

Well, here we go. Jagoron was slightly nervous, although he knew he had no reason to be. They were fellow soldiers, after all. Although I'm not exactly a soldier.

Shaking away his doubts, Jagoron pulled open the tent flap and poked his head inside. A zora, a hylian, and a gerudo. He was pleasantly surprised, noticing that it was the same singing gerudo from before.

None of them had noticed him yet. Jagoron cleared his throat.

"Um, hello?"

"Hello!" said Ana pleasantly, and dashed over, eager to get away from the claymore-wielding fellow suspicious of her. "I think I saw you earlier in the field, Jagoron's your name, right?"

"Yes, it is," Jagoron said.

Unsure of what to say, Jagoron nervously brought himself into the tent. Noticing how uncomfortable small it was for someone his size, he instinctively stooped.

"Uh, so you're all in squad 13, too?"

Ana noted he was uncomfortable and walked closer into his personal space as if the tent was too short for her and she needed to get closer to the middle where the posts had less distance. "Indeed I am." she said, looking up at him.

"I, er," Jagoron fumbled for the words. He looked down at the young Gerudo.

"You-you were singing before. It sounded familiar, like an old hylian tune. I've always loved all those old-"

He suddenly stopped talking. What am I saying?

"Sorry, I just-I don't know. We're at war, and here I am talking about folk songs. I guess I just latched onto something familiar."

He stood up straight, feeling the cloth ceiling brush against his head.

"That's right. We are at war. Sure, we need to get to know each other, but- but-"

He winced. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just chat like normal people did?

"Ok, look- just- just lets wait for our orders. I-I'll wait outside for the rest of our squad to show up," Jagoron averted his eyes as he spoke. He glanced at the rest of the group. He gave a half-hearted wave and began backing awkwardly out of the pavilion.

Otsuto quickly found his way to the pavilion labeled 13.
Supersticious goats.
He didn't think that there was such a thing as luck. Only skill and fate.
He carried nothing but his weapons. That was all he had save for one small pocket to carry some ruppees. He opened the flap of the tent to find a goron backing into him. It was probably unintensional,
"Hello there." He spoke aloud slightly in alarm.

Jagoron jumped, startled.

"Ah! Sorry!" he said, turning quickly around. He saw nobody.

He glanced downwards and saw an unfamiliar, brown-haired sheikah dressed in black. He sighed internally, beginning to tire of looking down all the time.

Nevertheless, he tried to be cheerful.

"Oh, hello! I didn't see you there. Are you in squad 13 as well?"

He looked over the sheikah again. Jagoron paused for a moment, wondering why it was so much easier to talk to him than the gerudo.

"I, uh, I didn't see you out in the crowd. What's your name?"

Maltah had been about to answer the Gerudo by unsheathing the blade when she darted off to converse with the Goron.

Talk about a short attention span. He thought. He listened absently to the conversations before kneeling down to reorganize his belongings. He quickly pitched his tent off to the side, and threw his bedroll in before taking his would-be seat to the tent. He didn't get inside, however, due to the Goron stuttering nervously and bumping into a Sheikah.

Maltah ignored the Sheikah, a little more interested in the Goron. They were, after all, a good deal stronger than the other inhabitants of the land. Maltah had taken some time to wrestle them once, and had foudn himself struggling with their immense size and strength. It took some time before he could even tie with one. He smiled at the thought.

Hm... Deciding it wasn't worth the wait, he threw his cushion back into his tent, then walked around the tent. He sat with his elbow resting on his knee, and watched as soldiers-if they could be called anything but farmers and stable boys-went about their business. The sun was begining to set, and he watched with interest as small spaces cleared for Maeglin as he visited one area after another.Larah didn't have the skills. But neither does he. He has no borders, no structure. What will he do when we can't even march in a straight line?