A Gerudo watchwoman sat on the tower overlooking the desert wastelands. "Why, oh why, did I get stuck with this duty? It's not like anyone is going to come out of this sandpit, what with the spirit guide and the river of sand," she muttered, annoyed. "If I fell asleep, I'd be fine as long as Nabooru didn't find me up here." She had just begun dozing when a noise caught her ear. What was that sound? There it was again... It sounds like- The watchwoman cursed loudly. Nabooru is gonna kill me.

Someone was knocking on the gate.

The portcullis opened slowly. On the other side, a lone man in a brown hooded cloak stood, brushing dust off his clothing. The entire village seemed empty. Looking from side to side, he stepped forward, walking into the Gerudo settlement. He had not gone far before Gerudo warriors had broken cover, cutting off his escape in any direction. Unless the man could fly, he was surrounded.

"Well, well, well, what've we here? A desert rat?" cackled one of the more bold Gerudos.
"All I want is safe passage from your lands to the lands of the king of Hyrule. No more and no less. Can you not allow me this?" The man's voice had a strange accent. It sounded like someone Nabooru knew, she couldn't remember who.
"I'm afraid that's out of the question." the sage said, trying to stare him down, even though she couldn't see into the hood to meet his gaze.
"Fair enough. Then I'll fight my way past you."

A chorus of laughter met his reply. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled a long slightly curved sword from a hip scabbard. It was dulled on the inward edge of the curve, but the outer edge was razor fine. The weapon gleamed like liquid silver in the desert sun. The Gerudo's chuckles died off. He was serious. One mumbled, "It's your funeral..." before the group drew twin scimitars. Nabooru shrugged. She hated to waste a good catch, but that didn't mean she'd hold her warriors back... They would be aiming to kill.

Later that day, the Spirit sage thought back over that event. She had never seen anything like it. One man, against sixteen Gerudo warriors. He nearly pulled it off. Dropped nine of them before she had managed to get behind him and knock him out. That was only half the astonishing part, the other being that none of the Gerudo were injured beyond a few stinging cuts. He had taken more hits than even the most severely wounded amongst the warrior women. The implications were incredible, in the Gerudo leader's mind- the man had been holding back. Nabooru decided to drag him to the meeting of the sages Zelda had called; after all, she asked about any strange arrivals in her message.

She took the liberty of examining the new captive after he was bandaged up and securely chained in 'the pit'. Link had mentioned the little secret behind his escapes from the prison to the spirit sage in one of their more recent meetings, and the Gerudo had taken the hint. The prisoner was a tall man of about 19 years, with straight white hair. He wasn't burly, but he had compact, wiry muscles. She had seen them in action and knew not to go on appearance alone- he had battered aside her warrior's blows as though they were insects in need of swatting. Were he not potentially dangerous to her people, Nabooru might have considered him rather attractive, in a way. He had odd, almost tribal tattoos on his forearms. They reminded her of someone again, but she couldn't quite place it yet. His sword was razor sharp, work of a master craftsman. His clothes were dark purple, with a familiar symbol emblazoned on the chest, obscured by dust. For the third time, she couldn't quite identify it. A curious find indeed.

When the young man awoke, he found himself alone, in a tall pit, bereft of weapons. He lurched to his feet, leaping for the moonlit window high above. He rose off the ground an unnatural distance, coming closer, higher, almost there- before reaching the end of his bindings and plummeting back to the floor. He landed heavily on his back, winded. Cursing his ill fortune in the tongue of ancient Hylians, he lay down and slept, trying to figure a way out of his predicament.