[center][h3][u][b][color=sienna]D R I F T E R[/color][/b][/u][/h3]
[i][b]Taking the High Road in Castle Town[/b][/i][/center]
[hr]
[i]It's good to watch the rain from a dry standpoint.[/i]

A dark red umbrella, a bit rough around the edges but still sound, gave a steady pitter-patter under the watery onslaught of the sky. The slim reeds forming its frame spun in a circle as the man beneath it twirled the handle with a flick of his wrist. The man took a deep breath through his nose and enjoyed the scent of fresh rain and cold wind. The hem of his cloak and robes hung heavy with water and his boots splashed through the puddles, but he still had a cheerful spring to his step.

"Good evening!" The man turned his scruffy chin to call out as he passed a weary guard out on patrol. The guardsman's hood and poncho shed rivulets as he hunched his shoulders against the wind.

"Very funny, traveler. What business are you on that's got you in such a sunny mood?"

"If you believe sunshine brings happiness, good sir, you have never danced in the rain!" The traveler chuckled, then bowed. "But I'm merely a wanderer, sir. Came into town this evening shortly before the bridges went up."

"Be wantin' lodgings, then?" The soldier hugged himself to ward off the chill. "Most of the inns are in the Red District. Might find somethin' cheap in the Green District's dive bars, but watch your purse."

"Many thanks, my friend!"

"Welcome to it, friend drifter. I'll leave you to your dancing." The guardsman sneezed, then headed off down the street--but noticeably with a little less burden in his own step. "Dancing in the rain, huh? Maybe..."

The drifter turned to follow the signs towards the Green District...

[i][b]"Help me... my name is Zelda... I have gone into labor within the castle, and I fear I won't survive. My husband is not to be trusted. Please, come to me. There is an old well hidden behind Telma's Bar in the green district that passes beneath the castle's walls. Friends await you there."[/b][/i]

The drifter stopped dead in his tracks, one hand tightening its grip on the umbrella while the other immediately went under his cloak. But as he slowly exhaled, his amber-gold eyes canvassing the street, nothing save the wind and water moved. No mouth had carried that voice. Perhaps magic, then? Or perhaps his imagination? But no, the words were too clear, and how could he have ever known that a well behind this tavern of Telma's disguised a secret passage into the royal castle? Magic it was. So Zelda--the Queen--did not trust her lord husband, and had called him...for what? To save her? To go to her? Why? Did she think her husband posed her some threat for some reason?

[i]Never say "no" to adventures.[/i]

But he did not need to go to Telma's, just to the well behind it. Perhaps it would be in a yard, or an alleyway. But going from street to street, following these signs, seemed it might be confusing and consuming of his time. The drifter ducked into an alleyway, and soon found a few barrels where someone kept their garbage. Testing the lid with one hand first, he then hopped atop it--and from there to the lip of the rooftop. He held his umbrella in one hand, still managing to keep himself dry, while his other supported his body weight. With a grunt and a flex of his core, he swung his legs up, then back and around again, before flipping himself up onto the fired clay shingles.

With a lighter, quieter, swifter step, the wanderer headed along rooftops and rafters, over beams and awnings. At one point, in the alleyway down below he spied quite the kerfuffle. It seemed someone had been attempting to mug...a child? A child in a play costume of leaves? No, wait. That was probably one the wooden creatures called a Deku Scrub. How interesting! But the Knights of Hyrule were on the case, doing their kingdom proud--or at least one of them was. She challenged the ne'er-do-well with a flashing sword. And there were two more people watching across the street. Thieves didn't like officers of the law or witnesses, so it seemed the fool would either spend the night in a cell, or take off running if he knew what was good for him. So the drifter didn't bother with that for the moment. 

Under the shadows of the storm, he made his way over the roof of the buildings adjacent to Telma's Bar--which seemed like it had gone quite to the dogs as of late. He wondered if the place still did any actual business. But sure enough, a back yard full of untrimmed hedges and uncut grass sat in a small lot behind the dilapidated tavern. The swordsman hopped down off the lowest part of the wall, bending his knees to absorb the short fall.

"Now, if I were a well with a hidden passage, where might I be...?" He brushed one thumb across the stubby whiskers on his chin as he walked around the muddy ground, giving his umbrella a few more lazy spins...