<br/><div align="center">(http://pre15.deviantart.net/daa4/th/pre/f/2012/066/7/b/ganon__s_fist_by_leo_diamond_by_leodiamond-d4s0igt.jpg)<br/><strong>Name:</strong> Ganondorf<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Execution - Execution Block<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Shepard, Samus, Windrunner, Jack (m), Rozalin (M)<br/><strong>Status:</strong> Walking to his excution<br/><strong>Notes:</strong> Towering over the little men</div><hr/><hr/><br/>Ganondorf fed greedily upon the dark lusts and the bloodshed these waste of air all practically screamed for. It was delicious, dark, and nourishing to his body. Restoring some of his strength and power that he had lost from the lack of 'normal' food he had been able to feast upon in his confinement. He had been doing this throughout the entire journey. But now, when they were so close to being executed. The greed, and dark twisted emotions of these stormcloak's sang so much darker to him. Aaaaa, how he loved the dark hearts of humanity. They never changed. But no matter how much he fed he could still not feel any chance on the shackles that bound his power. They did not weaken, shoot him with pain for empowering himself. In fact it was more like these shackles forced his powers into somekind of stasis. Frozen until he could access them again. Useful...but why would they only bind and not completely seal their powers? He knew they could. He just needs to gaze upon his triforce to remember this.<em>Perhaps...we serve some 'use' and the queen wants us to survive? Mhm. Best keep an eye on any 'saviours' that come our way'</em>. His thoughts were shaken as a voice, a familiar one called out to him. Turning his head he was surprised to see Shepard, of all people, bound and chained with a prison cell as well. Lips curling into a smirk he called out to him. ""Ah, if it wasn't<em>Shepard</em>in the flesh. Heh, to think the one Princess ordered my force to take down your ship, in a fit of paranoia, along with several other orders. And my refusal to follow that womans wishes would end up with us on the<em>same</em>chopping block. Quite a coincidence, no?"  A soft chuckle came from the large man as he gazed upon shepard. "But I can't help but wonder. Were you a actual traitor to the Dynasty like the Princess suspected, or has her sanity left her like I thought?"<br/><br/>He felt them come to a stop with a slight shake of the prison cells they were in, turning away from Shepard he caught the eyes of a gagged man that was looking upon him as he turned back to focus on the location they were on. His eyes had been on of ponder, hm. Most likely a man thinking of how he could use one such as he, they were all no doubt thinking of the same thing. Who could they use to help them survive. What distractions could the others serve to help them survive while the others could be used as bait to ensure their survival.<br/><br/>As the creaking of old steel echo's out as their doors were opened and all of them were forced from their cells he caught sight of another surprising, but not unwelcome sight. With his deep voice floating through the others he called out to Samus. "My, if it isn't the bounty hunter who's flexibility always astounded me in the arena of Smash. You sure did pack quite the punch back there with your armour. But tell me, how good are you in combat without your suit?" He recalled fighting her plenty of times, and hearing of the fights she played outside of her suit. But when battling him he can not recall her stripping off her suit to attack him.<br/><br/>The tug of his chains leading him away from the group and towards his execution brought him away from Samus, annoying though that may be he had wanted to speak more to them. But he couldn't really delay what was happening. And truth be told, he had no wish to delay it. For he knew what was coming, and the excitement of those around him and the dark memories of fear and<em>hate</em>brimming in this land had long since restored him to his full function. But the words of the one who smells of death, much like his own skeleton minions...and the ancient writings of the stones before him slowly brought his lips into a curl. His feet taking the first steps up towards the place his head will be removed from his shoulders. But still, his posture and confidence did not fade.<br/><br/><em>"Heh Heh...hahaHA!</em>" Laughter sprung from his lips, his face turning to to the undead woman that whispered her dark voice while her body sang with the temptation of death for all those who could not hold their lusts in check. "Is it not amusing that you speak of evil, when like I you walked and more than likely ruled over such beings in your past. But tell me, with all your power, all of the darkness that seeped into your being. When the time comes, will you be a creature of evil, or a creature of darkness?"  A soft chuckle leaves his lips once more as more steps were forced from him up to his fate. A few jabs in his back doing nothing more than making his feet walk as they had been. ""Your beauty will last for eternity. But will your heart and soul? Or have you given up all that was light from your time among the living, and drenched them in the madness of darkness already?" He had no care for the undead woman in truth, but to spread confusion among those that were guiding them to their deaths. And to distract them from others when she was making herself such a huge target by spitting into the very face of her captives. Why, bringing even more attention to her would no doubt be beneficial to the rest, no?<br/><br/>Another whisper of Dark Energy, confined though it was, whispered to him. And his last look towards the group before he was taken to the block for his execution was to glance at Rozalin and cast two bright, but curious yellow eyes upon the princess dressed woman. Hm...she reminded him a little of Zelda herself, in style if nothing else. The Darkness within her was a curious feeling however. How many here did not fit into the classic fold of 'good'? Shepard, Himself, and the undead queen were already three. And Samus could be considered to be within the category with herself being a mercenary, but how many of them were truly not all 'good'? A curious thought to ponder as he stepped along.