A/N: I own nothing except a copy of this great game.

Impa arose early that morning, as the sun was beginning to rise over the horizon. Long before any of the maids had awoken to begin their daily duties of cleaning the castle, the Sheikah warrior had already bathed and dressed. She was thankful for the seamstress that had fashioned her multiple sets of clothing for war, and made a mental note to thank them upon her return.

She made sure that the long strand of hair she let hang in front of her face was properly and tightly braided, and took a look at herself in the mirror. She looked as a warrior should. Precisely the point. Though traditionally the Sheikah had been once considered a barbarian tribe, over the ages her family's decorum had adjusted over the years to place the priority of protecting the Royal Family over that of tribal tradition. The two blood-red beads she slipped her hair through, brushing the strand out of her face upon completion, were subtle yet ever-important references to her heritage and her ancient tribe. They had been forged of pure glass, smithed by a Goron forge for the sole purpose of tribal décor.

Satisfied that she was dressed in full combat regalia, Impa glanced out the window of her room. The sun had not yet risen fully. Light was barely beginning to creep into the field of vision, but she estimated that it would be a full hour before the light became colored red. She figured now was as good a time as any to meditate.

Stretching her rug across the floor of her room, Impa gently knelt down into seiza position, resting her hands on her knees. Closely her eyes, she breathed in deeply and began clearing her mind.*

When she opened her eyes after what seemed like a mere moment, Impa was pleased to see that the hour she predicted had indeed passed. Slowly getting back up to her feet, the Sheikah warrior grabbed her Biggoron Knife off of its mantle-bound weapon rack and fastened it to the back of her armor. It was time for the most dangerous mission of the day.

Waking the princess.

Impa approached the door to the princess' chambers. The handmaidens were all waiting outside the door, gingerly pressed against the wall to see if there were any sounds of life inside. Nothing they could hear. Impa wordlessly nodded to the handmaidens, and then opened the door.

The room was impeccably kept as always, and the canopied bed was drawn. From within, Impa could hear the very un-dignified noise of snoring. She fought the urge to smile. After making sure that none of the handmaidens were within the line of fire, Impa cleared her throat.

"Good morning, Princess Zel-"

She was interrupted by a very large pillow being whipped at her face at the speed of an enraged Cucco*. Deftly and without blinking, Impa turned her head to the side so that the fluffy missile missed the mark, hitting the side of the wall with a barely-audible whump. Impa cleared her throat.

"Your highness. It is time to awaken." She said. There was a grumbling not unlike a furious Moblin, and soon the canopy was pulled aside so that the princess could emerge from slumber. Impa suppressed the urge to laugh at the sight of her liege. Zelda gave new meaning to the phrase "bed head."

Through bleary, blood-shot eyes, Zelda spoke.

"Speak what is on your mind and I will have you ritualistically disemboweled." The princess said. Impa rolled her eyes.

"Good morning to you too, your highness." Impa gestured to the shuddering handmaidens. "Your handmaidens are here to help you get ready."

Impa politely excused herself from the room to allow her liege and the maidens some privacy, and leaned against the marble wall outside in the hallway.

After what was around twenty minutes, Zelda emerged looking as fresh as she did during the meeting with Ishaka the previous day. Impa raised an eyebrow.

"Your proclivity to dressing sharply on a moment's notice never ceases to amaze, princess." Impa said. Zelda smiled.

"One of the many skills a princess learns: the ability to be ready in a moment's notice." She glanced around. "It is awfully quiet. How early is it?"

"I reckon around six. Maybe six thirty at the latest." Impa said. Zelda wrinkled her nose.

"I fail to see how you rise so easily." Zelda said. "And with so little…drama." She addeed with a slight tone of embarassment. Impa smiled.

"Do not worry, Zelda. You have come far closer to hitting me in the face on other mornings. And you merely used a pillow this morning. Last week you tossed a wooden Cucco carving at me. Where you acquired one is a question I have yet to truly think the implications of."

"Hmm…I must be losing my touch…" Zelda playfully put a finger to her chin in mock-thought. Impa raised an eyebrow.

"I trust you and Lord Grantham can handle our absence?" Impa said. "I passed by Lord Tiberius' room. The man is already putting on his chainmail armor." Now it was Zelda's turn to be surprised.

"He is never awake this soon…without liquid courage, that is." She said.

"Do not fret, your highness. Lord Tiberius has not imbibed today. Yet."

"He will at the conclusion of a successful battle." Zelda said. "He came to me late last night expressing quite a bit of concern over these Ravagers and whether they are fit to battle."

"I had better keep him away from the Goron cellars should today's expedition end in victory."

"Or defeat."

"Or defeat, of course."

"Do you worry about the Ravagers?" Zelda asked. Impa shook her head.

"Worry? No. Ishaka I am sure is a fine commander of men. A little…unconventional, sure, but fine nonetheless." Impa said. The duo began walking down the hallways towards the throne room (and for Impa, towards the entrance to the courtyard where the expedition was preparing).

"He seems a rather intriguing fellow." Zelda said. "He will do a good job. I have faith."

"He will. As will Lord Grantham when you appoint him to be your trusted advisor. Of course, why you haven't yet is a mystery to the court." Impa said. Embarassed, Zelda looked away.

"I…do not have that authority."

"Of course you do. There is not a royal-blooded individual in your court that could say no if they wanted to. If you fear overstepping your powers, that is precisely the reason you have an interior minister. Goddesses know that Grantham handles all of that work anyway. At this point the promotion would be a formality." Impa said.

"It will just be…different having a confidant-"

"-That you haven't known since childhood?" Impa finished. She looked Zelda in the eye. "Zelda, I understand the hesitance to rely on private counsel from someone that you didn't grow up with, but at the end of the day these things need to be done. It is important to have a trusted confidant to confide in on the off chance that I die."

"Don't say that!" Zelda said. "You won't die, Impa." Impa chuckled.

"I will someday, Zelda. You should simply be prepared if that day comes sooner rather than later." She looked at the princess and smiled. "Don't you trust Grantham?"

"Yes." Zelda said. "There is a reason that I allow him in the room these days when you and I wish to discuss in private. I know that he has discretion with what needs to be revealed and what doesn't." Impa smiled.

"Then that's the answer you need." Impa said. "He will make good counsel as your Minister of the Interior." There was a pause as they walked down the hallway some more. "A handsome man too. A pity that he is married, or else I would recommend you pursue him."

"Impa!"

"Oh that's right, I forgot. You prefer your men to be younger than you, you little culeeto*."

"Impa!"

Roughly an hour later, Impa emerged from the castle interior towards the courtyard, where Lord Tiberius was already preparing an armed force to begin marching. It was impossibly foggy out. Impa counted a few dozen heavily armored men, and sighed. This might be putting a little too much faith in the strength of Hyrulian soldiers. She walked over to the red-headed commander, who greeted her warmly.

"Good morning, Impa. Are you ready for the march?" He asked. Impa nodded.

"Of course, Lord Tiberius. Is there ever a time that I am not?" She asked. Tiberius smirked.

"Of course not. Silly me. Sometimes I forget just how lucky I am to have a field commander such as yourself to take charge of the troops." He whistled, and his milk-white horse galloped over to him. Impa was impressed.

"You've trained her well." She said. Tiberius shrugged as soon as he was secure in the saddle.

"Thunderus and I have a close relationship. I imagine it is similar to yourself and that goddess-forsakenly large weapon you use in battle." He said. Impa glanced over her shoulder towards the hilt of her Biggoron knife.

"Do not knock it until you have tried it, Lord Tiberius." She said. Tiberius nodded.

"Of course. Now, where is that Ravager and his men? We've searched the commons but they're nowhere in sig-"

He stopped cold, staring behind Impa in shock. The Sheikah lady turned around.

All of the Ravagers stood behind them or were coming out from the trees of the common and through the foggy haze. They were dressed in tightly wrapped leather armor, and anything else they could get their hands on. But it was their faces that drew the Sheikah's attention. Each Ravager, be it man or woman, had applied what appeared to be a chalk-like substance to their faces. They had smeared charcoal around their eyes, creating a sunken-looking effect. There were also charcoal smear patterns underneath their eyes as well. They looked as ghosts.

And Ishaka walked to the front of the pack, the most terrifying of them all. He already stood at six and a half feet, but the way he carried himself was far different than the jovial manner in which he presented himself the days before. He also had the chalk-like imxture applied to his face, though the charcoal was limited to a single horizontal bar that went just under his eyes and across his nose. He glanced up at Tiberius.

"All y'all ready? We are." He said. Tiberius looked unnerved, though quickly regained his composure.

"Of course." He said. "You and the Ravagers are the forward scouts. We shall be the rear guard. Understood?" Ishaka nodded once, and then formed his lips into an "O."

Wiiiiissht!

His whistle was loud and piercing, enough to make Impa wince. At the sound of their leader's call, the Ravagers began to run out in front of the Hyrulian guard and began jogging through the streets of Castle Town. Tiberius blinked once in surprise. He had not expected them to be so quick.

"Forward, march!" He barked. The Hyrulian soldiers hurried began marching at a brisk pace, intending to keep the Ravagers in sight.

Their march took the better part of the morning, and it was close to mid-afternoon when they saw the foothills of the Goron mountains. The Ravagers were already there long before the exhausted Hyrulians, and were lounging around waiting. Ishaka stood in the middle of the party.

"We done scoutin'." He said. Tiberius, sweating slightly due to a combination of nerves and frustration, was impatient.

"And?" He asked. Ishaka gestured to the hills in front of them.

"Enemy camp ahead. Prob'ly a hunnert', maybe two. Bulblins." He said. Tiberius frowned.

"That is much more than we expected." He said. "What are they doing?" He asked. Ishaka grinned.

"Waitin'. They musta guessed y'all was comin'. Got a nice'n tight ambush for all y'all around the corner." He said. Tiberius frowned.

"How on earth do you know this, and how were you not spotted?" He asked. Ishaka's grin widened. Considering his war paint, it was not a pretty sight.

"We's Ravagers, Gen'ral. We are the coun'ryside. Ain't nobody gonna s'prise us." He said. Impa glanced at the mountainous hills ahead of them, which seemed more ominous now.

"What happens now?" She asked. Ishaka gestured to the mountains.

"We gonna funnel 'em all towards y'all." He said. "We sneak in b'hind 'em, an' then we scare 'em like th' Demon King hisself is comin' down on 'em. They'll come a'runnin' down this pathway towards y'all, and that's when…"He put his finger on his throat, a devious grin on his face. "We'll hit 'em at nightfall, when they's sleepy. Make it easy for y'all."

"How will we see them?" Tiberius asked. "It will be impossible to light torches to help ourselves without giving away our position."

"No it ain't." Ishaka said. "Jes' keep yer torchbearers on 'lert. When y'all all hear th' signal, that's when y'all light 'em up."

"What is the signal?" Impa asked.

Ishaka stared at her, and then grinned mysteriously.

"Y'all all will know it when it comes." He said. He sauntered off to join the rest of the Ravagers, who were currently adjusting their meager weapons and armor.

Hours passed, and the sun began to set over the mountains above. Impa reckoned that there were still two good hours left before twilight arrived, and decided that now would be as good a time as any to begin surveying the troops. Considering that they were entrusting their force to a completely unknown wildcard, she would not be surprised to find that her men were worried.

She was not surprised. Most of the soldiers were jittery, some reflexively training with their weapons over and over to the point of monotony as if to stave off invisible fears, while others cast nervous glances over at the Ravagers, who had begun a slow advance towards one of the mountains in front of them. Impa sat down amongst a few of the Captains, and quietly listened to their conversation.

"I don't trust that leader. Ishaka. You never trust a man of that stature in face paint!" One of them muttered. Another snorted.

"What logic is that? By that same logic, you can't trust a Goron because he happened to smear charcoal on his face while leading you under the mountains."

"You're both wrong." The third captain said. "I doubt that this Ishaka guy is leading us to an ambush. You saw him in the village, right? That guy hates Moblins, and I bet you he doesn't like Bulblins either. He can't hate us nearly as much." Impa was compelled to speak.

"That reminds me. How were the Ravagers last night in the courtyard? Did you hear anything?" She asked. The third captain shrugged.

"Nothing, ma'am. They apparently pitched up tents, were subdued as soon as night came, and generally were about as good a houseguest as one could ask for. I guess they recognize that the princess is granting them a charity by allowing them refuge. The least they can do is be polite, I suppose."

Impa nodded. That made sense. Yet still…

"What about Ishaka?" She asked. The second captain shrugged.

"I heard he went for walks along the perimeter of the courtyard, chatting with some of the guards. I heard he managed to get one of the Royal Guards to laugh, but no one is saying whether that's true or not. Truthfully, the man seems like more of a self-created caricature than a leader."

"Do not be so pessimistic." Impa said. "Things will play out as the Goddesses have forseen, and I do not doubt that Ishaka has a role to play as well." She glanced around, noticing that darkness was beginning to settle in. "Have the torchbearers ready. We will need as much light as we can get in order to see. I do not want any Moblins or Bulblins to escape tonight to report back to the Sorceress." Impa said.

"Understood." One of the captains said, speaking for the group. Impa nodded, and took her leave.

Twilight was beginning to settle in. The Bulblin camp had begun to settle down, with most of them having turned in for the night. A few sentries were posted to keep watch, but other than that there was little sign of life throughout the camp.

Ishaka fought the urge to snort. Bulblins were all the same. No strategy other than throwing bodies at a problem until its been worn away.

The Ravager leader was currently at the top of a mountainous overlook roughly a few dozen feet off of the air. It was one of many jagged pieces of rock that jutted out from the mountainside, with the Bulblin camp in the ravine below. Ishaka lay flat on his stomach, quietly observing what went on below him. A few fires still burned in the camp, and for that Ishaka was thankful. After all, a more observant sentry would only have to glance up in his direction to see the reflection of the fire light off of his eyelids. But Bulblin sentries were not well-known for their spatial awareness.

Ishaka heard a shuffling noise behind him, and soon another Ravager had crawled up beside him on the rock top. He was much smaller than Ishaka, and thus had to inch up even further on the rock so as to be directly alongside him.

"They all in place, sah." The Ravager said. "If y'all ready, we can go get 'em." He said. Ishaka nodded.

"Good. Jes' make sure e'ryone got their weap'ns ready. When y'all hear th' signal, y'all all better be ready ta come crashin' down." He turned to face the Ravager beside him. "Get e'ryone in position."

The Ravager nodded, and without a word slowly crawled back away from Ishaka and melted into the rockface behind them. The decision to make a move was now in Ishaka's hands.

The Ravager captain studied the situation before him. He could just barely make out the silhouettes of Ravagers in the rockfaces around the ravine, waiting for his call to unleash hell. He wiped his hand on the rock reflexively, and licked his lips.

Wyyiit. Wyyiitt. Wyyyiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

He continued gently whistling, making sure to be as deliberate as he could be with each breath of air. Too forceful and it would be too obvious. Too slow and it would sound like a dying bird, and Bulblins enjoyed hunting dying fowl. He continued whistling slowly. A few of the Bulbins on guard below were looking around, wondering where that bird was coming from. It was time. Ishaka took a deep breath.

Weeeeeesht!

There was the sound of shattering glass, as Ravagers broke glass jars across the rocks. And soon after came the yell.*

Impa had been quietly meditating when she heard it. A chorus of voices, all banded together in an unearthly shriek. Impa was one of the few people have ever heard the screams of the undead that infested the most forsaken of places. Yet here there was another yell of the same timber, threatening to rend eardrums asunder. A ghostly shriek, mixed in with pure unbridled hatred towards the recipient. It was as if a graveyard had been reanimated, and the dearly departed were no longer departed and not so dear.

It was also the signal.

"Light torches!" Impa shouted. The few Hyrulian soldiers that were assigned to this thankless and sleepless task immediately struck matches and threw them into piles of wood scattered across the field. As soon as these makeshift bonfires were alit, the Hyrulian camp was able to see the entrance to the rocky ravine before them. And as the Hyrulian guard prepared their shield wall as a means of bottleneck, Impa saw the Bulblins emerge before them.

Usually the little creatures were contemptuous, vile beasts. They delighted in the slaughter of innocent things and in warfare for the sake of warfare. Yet the creatures that emerged from their camp and right into the waiting spears of Hyrulian steel looked nothing like the many, many Bulblins Impa had slain over the years. These creatures looked as if they had seen an army of ghosts.

"Block their retreat!" Lord Tiberius roared from atop his horse. "Close off all escape routes! Funnel them back into the ravine!" His terse and precise orders resonated with the Hyrulians, who had been looking for action for the entire day now. Hyrulian steel connected with Bulblin spear, cutting through leather armor and into flesh. Impa herself decided to enter the fray, drawing forth her Biggoron Knife and leaping over a wall of Hyrulian soldiers that had corralled a group of Bulblins against the rocks. With one clean sweep, four of the creatures fell to her blade. Still flowing in one motion, Impa transitioned to another group of Bulblins. She swung low, causing two of the beasts to jump up in avoidance. Before they had even started coming back down, Impa swung again from her other shoulder, catching the Bulblins just below the neck and separating their heads from their bodies.

"Keep pushing!" She barked, noticing that the number of Bulblins was growing far smaller. In addition, the creatures seemed to have given up hope for escape and instead vowed to take as many Hyrulians with them. But they were fighting from their heels, and it was all too easy to push them back into the ravine.

After a few more minutes of frenetic fighting, it was clear that the battle was won. Impa called for a methodical approach from her warriors, with shields up and spears out in order to block any escape from the ravine entrance. Some of the Ravagers had emerged from the camp, as an implicit sign that they had effectively pinned and squashed the enemy between the two forces. Lord Tiberius rode up behind Impa, who was in the center of the action.

"That should do it." He said. "Begin riding into the camp. Look for anything of value, or of survivors."

The Hyrulians began a march into the camp, weapons at the ready though not particularly worried for a counterattack. There were simply too many lost bodies for the Bulblins to do anything but surrender. And Bulblins never surrendered a fight, no matter the odds.

They found Ishaka in the center of the camp. Ravagers had dragged anything of value out of the tents, and then had set fire to the rest. A few of the Ravagers gave the rupee stashes to Lord Tiberius, figuring that he was the one that would know what to do with these spoils. As for the weapons, more than a few of the unarmed Ravagers were fighting over who got to wield a fancy-looking dagger, or if one was more deserving than another of taking this crossbow. Impa instructed her soldiers not to interfere. It would be better that these men and women have something better to fight their foes than their fists and feet.

Ishaka was not interested in this divvying up of spoils. He was slowly and methodically walking towards a Bulblin was on the ground, one that was battered and bleeding and crawling away with not much time left in this world. Like a panther stalking its prey, Ishaka hoisted the Bulblin up and grabbed him by the neck. He held the creature up to his face, letting the little beast's feet dangle helplessly beneath him.

"Where's the Sorc'ress." Ishaka did not ask so much as demand quietly. The creature, bleeding profusely from an errant strike to the face, proceeded to spit in Ishaka's face.

"Grragh…you…scum…" It said. Ishaka shrugged.

"Fair 'nough."

He lifted the creature a little higher in the air, and with a grunt chokeslammed the creature back down hard on the ground. The Bulblin was dead on impact.

Ishaka wiped what little blood he'd gotten on his hand on the edge of his duster, and reached into his pocket for his pipe. He lit it, took a puff, and blew it derisively at the corpse at his feet.

"Though y'all was a jackass too."

He looked at Impa, Tiberius, and the Hyrulian warriors before him. His facepaint, in the heat of battle, had been smudged and cracked away to reveal his normal complexion. His hair had come loose of the ties he'd placed in it, and it covered his head in a crazed mop. He took another puff from his pipe, and spoke again.

"Howzat? We good fer ya?"

HYRULIAN CODEX

Sheikah Meditation – Little is known about the inner machinations of Sheikah meditation, as it is a practice solely exclusive to those deep within the subculture of Sheikah mysticism. Warriors practice it in order to find inner balance, while mystics use it in order to better attune themselves to the world of the supernatural and spirits. Even attempts to compose a written history of the practice have failed, as despite their best efforts the transcriptions of Sheikah describing the practice come off as little more than incoherent rambling. For lack of a better way to put it, it would appear that Sheikah mysticism is a practice that is incredibly beneficial to the practitioners of the technique, yet it remains a practice only available to only the most mentally-sharp of the mysterious people. All others have tried and failed to replicate the practice.

"Speed of an enraged Cucco" – A Hylian colloqual expression used to indicate something moving at immense speed with the sole purpose of causing great harm upon arrival at its destination. For example, a phrase "That storm is coming like an enraged Cucco!" implies that one has mere moments to take shelter before the mother of all monsoons hits.

Culeeto- Pronounced "Koo-LEE-toe." A Sheikah word to describe a large, predatory cat. In more contemporary times, the word has taken on another, rather risque 'slang' definition as that of a promiscuous older woman. To use this term in polite conversation is akin to waking a sleeping Dodongo: It will not end well, and the subsequent burning sensation takes days to properly heal.

The "Ravager Scream" – Psychology is just as important as manpower for the Ravagers under their leader Ishaka, perhaps even more important given the usual dearth of manpower the Ravager forces carry. Thus, a favored tactic by these unconvential soldiers is to unnerve their opponents by bellowing at the top of their lungs in an incredibly high-pitched octave. It is usually broken out right before an ambush, as the sudden sensation of hearing hundreds of voices screaming for your blood is enough to freeze even the most collected of commanders. And in that frozen moment, you are already dead.