[i]Sigh[/i]

A deep breath pulled and pushed through Captain Orin Ackermore's chest as he stood, airing in contemplation. Shivering subtly in a light, yet cool breeze that whipped the otherwise light rain, he ruffled about, pulling his cloak more tightly over his jacket. Bracing against another gust, he bundled and clasped it shut in one hand while holding his other stayed at the hilt of his sword. A second breath cycled his lungs, escaping more quickly than it entered as though he were spitting out a foul taste. [i]Bitter winds.[/i] His brows furrowed on the wincing of bloodshot eyes, both surveying the landscape below with a pointed gaze. Far down, the rocky trail of Death Mountain met the entrance to Kakariko Village, which, for its part, rest peacefully at the volcano's foot amid the dreary evening; the soft glow of lights provided a semblence of warmth. Beyond the village, darker skies lingered just over the hilltops, where, unseen from the town, but just visible as phantom through the fog from Orin's outcrop, the twisted visage of what was once Hyrule Castle reached to pierce the sky like an obsidian spear. 

The day, nearly a year prior, clung to the Captain's memory like a ReDead: his company had clashed with Ganondorf Dragmire's secondary forces... at the time their purpose hadn't been entirely clear... only in his haste to return word of the ensuing invasion did he learn the truth; Lady Impa, with Princess Zelda securely in her arms galloped past, alerting him to the death of the King and the chaos enveloping the castle. Orin quivered... he might as well have lost his father that day. Fortunately enough, General Firs had broken the blockade at the castle, and mounted a retreat. Days later, Orin and Firs had managed to evacuate the survivors from the town. But the damage was done, and Ganondorf returned to secure hold on the battlements and turned the once vibrant town into a pile of rubble infested with monsters. 

With early recovery efforts yielding little more than scant supplies from outlying homes, Orin had since abandoned attempts to retake the town. 

Now, standing a quarter of the way up Death Mountain trail, Captain Orin Ackermore faced a new dilemma. The Gorons that made Death Mountain their home had been silent over several months. Compounded by the recent silence from Zora's Domain, the absence of the Gorons had thrown Orin into a frenzy of reconnaissance expeditions. He had sent scouts up Zora's River a week ago. With beasts beginning to emerge down the mountain trail, Orin had decided to spearhead a march to Goron City. 

Steeling himself against the cold air, he let his cloak fall loose, and made the trudge back down the path. A slight labor over slippery rocks and muddy soil brought him towards the cover of the entrance to Dadongo's Cavern. There, his company bustled and hurried to set up their encampment after a day's toil of clearing beasts from the lower end of the trail. As he descended closer to the camp, the torchlight and campfires rose up, brightening the gathering night, and warming the cold air. 

Crossing the threshold into the encampment, Orin pulled down his hood and wiped the rain water from his face. His feet made swiftly to the center of the camp, where a command tent had been set up. Though Orin was officially the the commanding officer, and shorthanded in ranks beneath him, he had informally granted rank to volunteers from both the village and refugees from other reaches of Hyrule. 

One such volunteer awaited Orin as he entered the tent. Beckoning against the formality of a solute, Orin righted himself and asked, "what news?" 

"We've secured the lower path, Captain," the young man replied. "Losses were minimal. Two dead and one wounded." 

"Good enough news. Little comes from further up though." Orin paused for a breath. "No signs of activity from Goron City. Once base camp is established we'll need to set a blockade against the cavern. A swarm if dodongos can't be afforded." 

"Yes Captain. Are there any other orders?" 

"Yes. Send for Aru." 

"Aru, sir?" The soldier gapped at the mention of the Gerudo dissenter; her frequent presence among the Hylian company had prompted many uneasy stares. 

"Yes. Aru. She's shown herself more than trustworthy enough for my liking. Now go and see to that she is sent for." 

"Yes, Captain." 

The soldier left, leaving Orin, for the time, alone. 

In solitude, Orin sat himself in a folding chair set by a low table covered with maps and scribbled notes telling of the movements and strength of Ganondorf's legions. Immediately, Orin took to rifling through the noted piled up on the table. News mounted more by the day of the beasts and monsters ensnared by the Gerudo King being commanded by more intelligent figures. The likes of Gerudo witches and, more concerning, Hylians that had betrayed the crown, standing at the helms of Moblins and Stalfos, were coming into the open. Letting out a groan as he reached the bottom of the stack of letters, he tossed them to the side, some sliding to the ground as they skimmed across the table. "Still no word!" He barked in a low volume, and he bowed his head low, falling back into his deep contemplation.