A man sits cross-legged in the dusty street, wheezing and coughing as sickly old people do. His tangled, gray hair sticks to his bony cheeks, giving him a wild look about him. His clothes are insignificant - a soiled shirt and much too large trousers. He wears no shoes, so you can see his calloused feet, brown with the sun and years of not cleaning. Everything about him is so dirty, repulsive - yet one object that he wears stands above all others, catches your notice. This mere beggar has a strong, noble sword hanging about his waist, reflecting off beams of light from its golden hilt. The blade is like liquid ice, so strong, yet giving the illusion of melting any second.

The old man holds a roughly cut bowl in his gnarled hands, shaking it about pitifully. The bowl is entirely empty. As people scurry past him, his company unwanted, not to mention his scent, the bum cries,

"Mercy! Mercy upon this soul!"

His voice is hoarse, crackling. He rocks himself back and forth, mumbling something incomprehensible. The old man sets his bowl down beside him, and sobs,

"Justice is my enemy - o, have mercy upon me!"

Cathy was just walking by when she saw the old man. She stared at him at a distance. Her light blue eyes trailed to the bowl in his hands. She let out a sigh and walked over to him, muttering something under her breath like, "He's lucky I'm in a good mood today."

Cathy stood over the man. She towered over him with her seven foot heighth. She let out a sigh. "Hey, old man, if I give you what you want, will you stop with your annoying yelling and blabbering?" she snapped. Even though seemed like she was being harsh, she was in a good mood today.

OoC: When Cathy's in "a good mood" it's mostly someone's "leave me alone, I need to think" mood. Yeah, Cathy's mean, but she's my favorite character.

The old man looked up at Cathy, scrutinizing her with his icy gray eyes. Everything about him was so old and wrinkled, but his eyes looked so young and shining with vivacity. His voice was cracked,

"Food. Water. Anything to fill my stomach."

It is strange, but his voice was strong and young, the kind of voice you'd expect from a young man. The old man whispered to himself, supposing it to be inaudible,

"The pale witch. She is out to get me. Please, kill the witch for me..."

Ooc: That's what makes Cathy so special.

"Old man, if you need food, don't go to me, but I have enough water to stop dehydration," Cathy said. She pulled out one of her five cantines(hey, she's a zora, why shouldn't she carry a lot of water around?) and handed-more like thrusted it- into the man's hands. She examined him once more and let out a small snort. "You have weird eyes, old man."

The beggar slurped at the canteen hungrily, like a dog would drink in a hot summer day. His beard grew wet as he eyed the zora meticulously. He said,

"Thank you, kind stranger. I feel some old energy coming back. My name is Ruibus Contoir."

He lifted his hand, as if to offer a hand shake, but quickly dropped it to his side, seeing how smelly and dirty it was. He smiled slightly,

"Do you think I have strange eyes? Then yours are even more so."

Ruibus suddenly stroked his beard, and got up. His stature was straight, like one of a proud warrior's. Except he wasn't a warrior. And he definitely had nothing to be proud about. He stroked his sword, and groaned,

"Goddesses forgive me. Look here."

He pointed at his sword, and stared at Cathy with unwavering eyes. He whispered,

"This here. Made from the blood of thousands. Perhaps hundreds."

His voice dropped a pitch.

"And I must find the witch. I must kill her to rid of my sins. Help me, stranger. Help me find the witch."

"Witch? What witch?" Cathy questioned. She placed her hands on her hips and examined the man. "Look here, old man, I don't help people out. Just ask my friends. I'm usually forced to help them. If you want my help, then give me one good reason. If you don't, I'll just walk away."

ooc: I'm posting here. Deal with it, lil' sis.

IC:

Dust.

"Goddesses, help me."

Xeon picked his way through the streets carefully, manuevering his body so quickly that he appeared faster than the air itself. He was in search of his father, once again. He stuck out his tongue slightly, disgusted at such filth. His eyes widened as he saw a beggar. Disgusting!

His gaze transferred to the zora girl, who seemed to be disgusted at the man too. He walked coolly towards the bum, keeping his distance.

"Hello. We meet again."

He nodded at the zora, and turned to the beggar.

"And you, sir, what may you be doing? Looks like you're in need of a shower."

Suddenly noticing the sword that dangled at the man's waist, he bent down, and stared at it carefully.

"....hm.... where did you get this, my friend?"

Cathy glared at Xeon. She wasn't much of a social person, so if people started gathering, she was going to leave. "Hey, newbie," Cathy said. Her eyes shifted to the sword when Xeon pointed it out. "I would say that he got it from the Nejero family, but I'm the only one who knows them."

The old man clutched his sword, and hissed,

"This is mine, there is no Nojero family."

His eyes widened, as if he was carefully watching a snake slithering towards him. He grabbed his sword, and unsheathed it.

"Don't you dare take this from me! Thieves!"

Cathy looked at the old man, then at the snake, and back at the old man. She rolled her light blue eyes and let out a sigh. "Crazy old man, it's a snake," she said in a matter-of-fact way, "A snake can't take a sword away from you unless if it is possessed with magic or somethin'."

The zora girl wanted despretly to say, "It's not Nojero, it's Nejero. They are the most known sword makers/ sword masters family known in Kito Village!" but she didn't say a word, or she would have looked crazy, knowing that she had come from a different world.