Desert Homecoming [Open]

[LuckyBlackCat]

While Nex busied himself serving his flock of customers one by one, Micah nodded to the Gerudo in priestly garb, although he inwardly winced at the words "proper preparation" which stuck in his mind as if emphasised. "And food is a great way to bring people together," he added. "It's why I'm learning to cook as many different kinds as possible. Got to provide good hospitality, with people from all over the kingdom mingling more than ever."

Her mention of a great - albeit messy - chef residing in town, among other culinary experts, piqued his interest. "Oh?" His eyes grew wide. "That explains the palm fruit shells I noticed in the water earlier. What's her name?"

Before she could answer, Nex spoke up, addressing both of them.

"For you, my young friend, if you give me some of your spices I would be grateful. Ever since departing from your company my meals have been most bland."

A flattered yet bewildered chuckle left Micah's lips at the notion that Nex had particularly enjoyed his cooking. "You're in luck. I still have plenty of Goron Spice." He plucked a few bottles of pungent crimson powder from a hip pouch. He'd need to save some for the dish Nellie had requested, but could part with this much. "How many would you like? Also... If you like spicy meals, does that include Fragrant Mushroom Sauté? Do you know which types of mushrooms work best for it?" He glanced at a nearby stall, which displayed fungi of various shapes and colours. In hindsight, he really should have asked Nellie which kind she preferred.

Something about the white-clad woman's cryptic response to Nex's request for desert lore seemed to be the last straw for the decaying Gerudo, who instead of continuing to grimace and glare at the crowd, shambled away. Micah cringed - even if there were various factors at play, his unnerved response to her arrival couldn't have helped her mood.

The brightly-clothed Gerudo, by contrast, bubbled with enthusiasm as she gushed about the significance of her relics, her eagerness to travel and learn about the wider world. Micah found himself smiling, the youth's joy infectious. "Travelling is pretty fascinating, huh?" he chimed in. "Even if it doesn't always go as you plan, it's still a valuable experience."

[Rex Draco]

Friend wasn't a term Nex used anymore in honesty. It was a platitude leveled in the face of polite company to present a more amicable nature than he was purported to have. Now he did not view the Goron as an enemy, far from it. The fellow had the ability to create tasty treats that satisfied his belly.

Micah quickly responded to his praise. "Quite lucky indeed..." He slid the spice bottles across his counter using his makeshift fan, putting them aside to deal with later. "Now I can't say I am familiar with the meal itself — never tasted it, but I can tell you it was something favoured by a certain group of people a long time ago. If you're seeking knowledge on mushrooms: you should find the children of the forest. No one knows about mushrooms better than them."

He looked towards the other Gerudo. "It is too bad that it would require so much effort, as you see I am far too old to cross the deserts in their completion. I suppose I'll miss out on the elegant history of this land. I was looking forward in documenting some of the ruins that were being overlooked by some statues depicting Gerudo maidens."

Merchants of baubles and jewels weren't known for their bloodthirst, so his plied trade of choice made it easy for others to approach him, but what he really traded was information, knowledge, and power. He bent the collected voices to his will. The soft murmurs of near and by maidens caught in his senses like fish to a net. Their cutting comments or side set glances gave him enough information to proceed apace with his plans. All he ever needed to do was set up a stall and wait.

And what luck, but an hour in a young Gerudo had the presence to speak of a relic. He knew nothing about what constituted a relic these days. Some of the old rings on his fingers would be seen as junk by a few, or old fodder not fit to trade. The magical antiques he had viewed as mundane house items had become museum worthy pieces. When Jamil presented the items Nex sat up, the first real movement he's made in the past hour.

He tapped the shield with his claw. "They don't have workmanship like this anymore. You'd be hard pressed to find any smith that can bend metal in this way anymore. Look at the edges and how it's once been shined to a bright surface. There are no imperfections and its style —" It resembled something he had recalled seeing in the past. "You won't see outside of a historian's hut these days. My advice would be to seek out the oldest Gerudo. There is one among them who would have knowledge of what it is. She would find it difficult staying quiet about it in any case."

[Emily]

She could also smell the stench.

"It is too bad that it would require so much effort, as you see I am far too old to cross the deserts in their completion."

Beneath the veil, her lip curled. There was no smile here to be had, no brightness to the eyes or gentle humour in her demeanour. Ruby-embedded teeth would be revealed were it not for the ever-present veil.

"I suppose I'll miss out on the elegant history of this land."

Fajar had left her alone with this sarcasm. Degeneracy. A small pit of disappointment sat in the pit of Nephthys's stomach. It was not proper for such feelings to weigh on her heart, on her stomach, in the eyes of her lady. Warmth and light were met with serenity and happiness. Disgust, disappointment? Blood was only to be spilt in the light of her lady moon.

"I was looking forward in documenting some of the ruins that were being overlooked by some statues depicting Gerudo maidens."

As one of the promised, she could not act out of alignment. That place was for their tools, their proxies, those that lived within the middle world, not truly of the sun nor the moon. She had hoped her echoing of tone and words would encourage Fajar to attack. Unlike the rest of her sisters, she had developed an appreciation for the gibdo's presence. She would have, of course, restrained the beast, but their pantomime would chase the interloper back to the green fields of Hyrule, back to something other than the image oft-perceived by the outsider of the desert, that suffering and ruin.

And so instead of lashing out, she held her tongue. 

"By the sun and moon, hallowed vehvi. I offer you my assistance. Use me as you see fit."

"Very good." Where Nephthys was playful and curious, Iset was clipped and efficient. Her eyes never betrayed inner feelings, her voice remained neutral. She barely regarded Fajar's presence, and beyond the basic acknowledgement, continued her discussion with the shopkeeper. "Two sacks of barley flour, one sack of rice, and a sack of couscous mix."

She raised an arm at this point, carrying a small hand-written list. Her arm was smooth, seemingly unweathered through its lack of exposure to the elements. Bangles and rings covered her hand and arm, jingling along as she raised it to view. "A carafe of olive oil, a kilo of lemons, a dozen tomatoes, aubergines, and peppers."

The shopkeeper snapped, her aides already rushing to gather the needed supplies and loading them on the sled. "No meats or eggs today?"

"By her grace, our chickens and goats are maintaining their numbers well.

"Ah-" she held a finger up as the bags of grains began to be loaded onto the sled. The Gerudo looked to her, pausing mid-hoist. "We have no need to tire our seal when a tool better fit for such things is at our disposal."

As they began loading the various accoutrements onto the sled instead, and loading the sacks of barley, rice, and couscous into Fajar's arms, a shout from outside caused Iset to close her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose with a hand, as the voice was fully and instantly recognisable.

"These decorations belonged to the leaders of my village many many moons ago. And this shield has been with us for even longer. What records we have seem to imply that it once was in the keeping of the Eighth Heroine themself during their arduous journey."

Nephthys was shaking, eyes wide as she stared at the shield. To this moment, she had still not made any sound, but the idea of it being exposed so readily to outsiders, she could hardly contain herself.

"It is my hope, and that of my people, that we might see this, and perhaps someday all of our sacred relics, returned to their former glory. That is in part why my footsteps bring me here this day. That and a love for history that burns brighter than the noontide sun. In seeing them restored, I also deeply hope that I can see their stories restored too. To seek out those who also kept records, compare them, expand upon our shared history! But it's more than just that, I want to learn all that I possibly can of the people living beyond the desert as well! I spent much time traveling my home and learning there, and so to be here now, to have the chance to see how much it differs, how much it shares in comm- A-ah... Ahem..."

The lady threatened to overtake her, a jealously-guarded history, an era-defining search for these pieces of history, only to find them dangled in front of those who could not survive outside the oasis, who could not bear her light. She could feel the scream in the back of her throat, not hers, but the indignant sun herself.

"Stars, I nearly got carried away there, my apologies. As I was saying, I seek to have what I can repaired and restored should such be possible. At which point I have no doubt my village will be happy to send me with yet more still!"

"Your vi-"

The Zora scratched at the shield. An arm wrapped in cloth reached for weapons that weren't there. It spoke as if it knew. "They don't have workmanship like this anymore. You'd be hard pressed to find any smith that can bend metal in this way anymore. Look at the edges and how it's once been shined to a bright surface. There are no imperfections and its style — You won't see outside of a historian's hut these days. My advice would be to seek out the oldest Gerudo. There is one among them who would have knowledge of what it is. She would find it difficult staying quiet about it in any case."

"Don't touch that!" she shouted, before raising both wrapped hands to her mouth. Every Gerudo within sight looked to her, hands moving to weapons, but they relaxed when she seemed to do the same. She straightened, took a breath, and released it. "My apologies. Malika, sister, allow me to lead you to the proper... authorities on our history. We have been seeking-" she stopped again, words having been strained to this point anyway, and she took some steps away.