OOC: Ok, in this bit, there will be another experiment put in for where people can fit it. As we now know how people react to writing a fight in a single post, we shall see how you manage a conversation. Don't worry, not all of the experiments will be like this, but they will all be different than norm methods of doing an RP.
As Alana walked through the camp she would up drawing the attention of the men around her (being pretty much the only woman they had seen in months who was not bent on killing them) receiving many stares. As she drew up to the rough area of where her tent would be a high pitched sound cut through the air. Yes...she had indeed just been wolf whistled. Turning to face the origin of the sound she saw a familiar face......
(Ok, Erin. Take over from here. It's up to you who the guy is, what his previous affiliation with Alana is and so forth. With that in mind, it is up to you to write him. Have fun!")
Mabala and Landara wandered around the edge of the camp towards the cluster of medical tents, as per the instructions they were given by one of the soldiers as they left. As they entered the largest of the field hospitals they saw dozens of men on makeshift beds. All of them were injured in some way, covered with bandages, most of them still breathing. The smell of blood and sweat was repugnant but did not seem to bother the men and women scurrying around in medic uniforms trying to treat as many of the injured as they could.
It was not long before they were spotted by one of the medics who instantly knew why they were here and redirected them to another tent on the edge of the cluster. Standing outside the entrance to this tent were more guards and a heap of weapons where piled in front of them. As the pair approached they were stopped before they could enter.
"Lay down your arms." one of them demanded, "We are under orders not to let any of you pass unless you are completely disarmed."
Understandingly, the pair nodded and added their weapons to the pile. As she did, Landara noticed a familiar looking blade among the confiscated armory, but who's it was she could not recall.
The pair were allowed in to see a similar scene as before, but this time on a much smaller scale and with gerudo women lying on the beds rather than hylian men. Looking about, both Landara and Mabala saw people they recognised.
"Lord Merk!" cried Landara, dashing over to a bed which contained the youth, his skin beaten and torn from the whirling sands, his arm in a sling and bandages holding together a nasty gash down his left side. The young king of the Gerudo, who Landara had personally forced out of the tower and away from the opening rift, had survived, but just barely.
(OOC: Ok, Dark. You know what you want to do, and if you look at what I said to Erin, you know how you will do it. Good luck. I hope you deal with this better than last time.)