<strong>Hyrule town</strong><br/><br/>Gar had reached the gate, and peered curiously over the sleepy guardsmen who greeted him with grunts and nods. Nothing to report, some noises a while ago that may or may not have been shouting, may or may not have been wolfos howling, may or may not have been Private Karlew's active and sleep-deprived imagination on his first watch.<br/><br/>Grinning ruefully at the assembled guardsmen as they teased the young Karlew, Garida took his leave and moved away from the castle, putting his fears down to paranoia and his own lack of sleep. It was as he was making his way back to his apartment in the center of town that he decided, on a whim, to drop in with some old friends of his.<br/><br/>The poor of Hyrule were few enough thanks to the Princess Zelda's careful rule, but they still existed in spots here and there, never in too much trouble. Garida had learned to look after all potential nodes of information, and so had cultivated this particular area-bringing this small group of beggars some bloodsausage and crusty bread sometimes, others tipping toothless buskers way more than they deserved, finding extra blankets from his apartment when the cold winter nights drew in. As such, the poor of Hyrule took to Garida warmly, they alone ignorant of his Gerudan heritage, or perhaps because of it. Half of him was a stranger to Hyrule, just like them, shady with no true place in the city.<br/><br/>The dispossessed took kindly to each other with a little nurturing.<br/><br/>Stepping beneath crooked archways of stone just out of the city center, passing through sagging rooftops and badly thatched straw walls, Garida could smell his associates before he saw them, though perhaps that had more to do with the group's proximity to the entrance of the sewers and the tunnels beneath Hyrule rather than just their simply hygeine. After finding a few spare rupees in his purse he tossed them casually around, making sure the assembled group (seven tonight, and happily drunk on bad cider too) had one each. Brief conversation and pleasantries were exchanged, lewd jokes about Kokiri and Zelda were deftly deflected by Gar, and then an older man took him by the hand, and rapped determinedly on the ground several times before Gar took his meaning. Thanking the older man briefly, and stepping out of the fug of alcohol-permeated breath, Gar stepped towards the entrance to the tunnels.<br/><br/><em>He could just be out of his mind, but he seemed intent that there was something going on beneath us. Why I take a drunken old beggar's paranoia more seriously than a fresh green guardsman on the wall I shall never know...but here's where I find out.</em><br/><br/>Stepping gingerly into the sewer entrance of Hyrule, Gar made sure to stay on the damp mossy walkways rather than splash through the murky waters, for fear of alerting whoever it was ahead of him (if anyone at all) to his presence. Glowing luminiescent moss dimly lit his way as Gar accustomed his eyes to the darkness, and soon enough he found the small outlet that led into the deeper Hyrule tunnels.<br/><br/><strong>Hyrule Tunnels</strong><br/><br/>Dropping silently down from his sewer perch, Garida Swifthand padded into the rabbit warren of tunnels beneath Hyrule town, even his night-trained eyes straining in the inky blackness.<br/><br/><em>Voices?</em><br/><br/>Gar hoped he was being paranoid-no one apart from one solitary wino knew he was down here, and if he had stumbled across a group of Lizalfos armed to the teeth, he would be in a pickle.<br/><br/>Still, creeping forward, Garida loosened his scimitar at his belt and made his way towards the faint noises.