A Pirate's Prison For Me (BP & Squish) COMPLETE

Or rather, a fishman does.

Fighting with an even deeper darkness, the Zora finally found himself a solid grasp on consciousness. However, he soon regretted it as pain swamped his limbs, torso, and head. Even his fish tail appendage and his fins seemed to tremble with pain. Groaning audibly, he forced himself to sit up and breathe deep. This was a vaguely familiar situation. However, at least this time his memory seemed to be largely intact. He remembered his name -Sigmund Caden- and he knew that he was a refugee in the town of Mido. He even knew why he was here.

On one of his swims -which had been growing longer and less painful recently-, he had run into a Zora woman in a state of hysteria. Seeing his build, she had latched onto him and begged him to help her- she had recently given birth to three eggs, but all of them had been taken away by Gerudo Pirates; a band of criminals patrolling a certain area of the seas. Amnesiac he might have been, but he knew how his race functioned on an instinctive level. Eggs needed a specific kind of environment and care, which he was certain the pirates would not provide them. Having confidence in his ability to swim in, snag the eggs away, and sneak back out, and spurred by a sense of kinship with the first Zora he'd seen that he could remember as well as overcome with rage at the heinous kidnapping, he had agreed and swam off towards the fortress.

And then... nothing. He must have run into a patrol and collapsed mid-fight. Not his most glorious moment... that he remembered, anyway. He looked around. Not that it helped... his surroundings were completely dark. He forced himself to get to his feet, ignoring the pain in his limbs. It didn't seem to come from his old injuries, thankfully. With luck, he was just stiff. Walking around would help.

He hadn't taken more than a few steps when his flipper brushed by something warm and solid, though.

Sigmund gasped when whatever he had touched grabbed hold of his ankle and ordered him to identify himself. Fortunately, it was a male voice; a clear sign that he was not in the presence of a Gerudo. And what was more, it sounded like the other person was in pain as well. Still, the grip on his ankle was firm rather than stunted, and Sigmund wasn't in the best of states himself. Jerking his flipper free would be quite a task, and one he was not eager to undertake if he didn't know where he would land if -when- he fell. It didn't take a genius to surmise that complying with the orders was in his best interest.

"Keep your voice down," he said, leading by example. "My name is Sigmund Caden and I'm here on racial business. I assure you that I seek no quarrel with you, unless you are in league with the pirates." He waited, letting the other man process the words. "If you're not, then I ask that you let go of my flipper. I am rather fond of my blood circulation."

Waiting another few seconds, he decided to return the question. "I must ask you the same question, good sir. Who are you?"

"Don't let it worry you," Sigmund said as the man apologised for his suspicion, "That's a perfectly natural response." When Silas proceeded to ask about his business with the pirates, he hesitated, but finally answered. "Well... aside from our natural distaste for pirates, which I'm sure I don't need to explain to you," it went without saying that the generally just and righteous Zora race was not fond of their home waters being defiled by criminals, "This particular bunch stole something precious and extremely fragile from a fellow Zora. I must get them back and return them to her, and quick, before it's too late for them."

He held out his hands, feeling for the nearest wall and trying to find the door of their cell. "And that means I have absolutely no time to waste. I must get out of here and to the upper floors!" Time and consciousness had reduced his pain to a dull ache, which he had grown accustomed to and wouldn't hinder him much. He didn't want to rely on this person's help -not only would it be a nuisance to his fellow prisoner, but it would also hurt his pride- but to his distress, when he found the door it would not budge. Which was normal -wouldn't be much of a prison if it did- but incredibly frustrating. He resisted the urge to bang on the bars, afraid to draw attention to them.

"Do you have any ideas on how we can escape from here?" He asked, his voice hushed.

"Technically, yes," Sigmund muttered, more to himself than to Silas, "But the aura only lasts for a few seconds and the light may be too bright to see by in that short a time." He turned around, his eyes slowly growing accustomed to the darkness. "Unless..." Seeing a lump of cloth in a corner, he walked over. He assumed all of his possessions had been confiscated when he had passed out. Certainly, leaving him in possession of his halberd would be stupidity beyond even a Moblin's. But with luck, his bottles had been left with him...

He rummaged around the lump, his suspicions confirmed when he felt hard glass against his fingers. Ignoring the dim blue glow that emanated from the pile as he uncovered the bottles, he first inspected the one containing a thick, green liquid, relieved that his emergency stash was intact and in his possession. "Found it," he then said to his companion, taking the other bottle to hand and holding it up when he reached the door. A small, blue flame seemed to hover in the middle of the bottle, touching none of the glass and happily dancing back and forth, untouched by the roughness with which its owner had been handled. "Blue Fire," he explained. "We use it to light our way in the darker depths of the ocean. It helped me see where I was swimming when I broke in."

"I'm not helpless myself," Sigmund said, flexing the fingers of his free hand. He couldn't demonstrate now for fear of being detected, so Silas would have to take his word for it. He moved through the room silently, although he quickly learned that stealthily sneaking through a fortress was not so much his forte as it was the other's. "Before we start looking for a way out," he whispered, "I would like to ask you something. Could you keep an eye out for anything that can be used to store small, soft items in a liquid? I can't precisely put them in with my Blue Fire, and they won't fit with my Green potion."

Having made his request, he concentrated on the door in front of him. He pressed his ear to the wood, hoping to hear if there were any guards on the other side. If there were, they were very quiet. Unsure of what to do, he tentatively tried the doorknob and hesitantly turned it. It clicked, far more loudly than Sigmund was comfortable with, and he stopped on the spot, looking at the other to see his reaction to the sound and if he had any ideas.

"...I'm afraid you may have to." Sigmund dove behind a crate, having seen a blur of red starting to come around the corner. The Gerudo didn't come towards them, so they had not yet alerted her to their presence. She was just patrolling, bored. This was probably the most boring shift in the entire fortress. She seemed to be alone, thankfully, but Sigmund knew better than to assume she couldn't call for backup. That was how he had gotten in over his head last time.

They only had two options available to them: either they knocked her out before she knew what was happening to her, or they sneaked past her. The second option had Sigmund's preference as he didn't know how good their odds of knocking her out were, but at the same time, he would have to be quick and silent about it and he wasn't sure how well he could do that. He had clearly not been trained in stealth. He turned to Silas. Of course, he'd also have to communicate any plans to the white-haired man without speaking- their voices would give them away in an instant. If only he could remember the signs he must have used with his own men!

Whatever they did, they would have to be fast about it. The route of her patrol had the Gerudo turn into their hallway, slowly but steadily approaching them.

Sigmund stuck up his thumb towards Silas -that was a universal sign meaning 'good job' even outside of military matters- and when the Gerudo woman turned around to walk in the direction Silas had thrown his needle, he got up from his crouching position. They were at a T-crossing in the hallways, and would need time to ascertain their direction. Time they might not have if the woman was conscious. So, she had to be unconscious... Sigmund took a deep, silent breath, getting up and holding out one arm. The cartilage that made up the fin on his arm hardened, and he took a moment to aim- finally swinging his arm down and launching his fin, which went flying through the narrow hallway towards the back of the Gerudo's head.

The sound it made as it cut the air caught her attention and she started to turn, "What in-" but before she could fully realise what was going on, the cartilage struck her in the temple. She fell to the ground, dropping her spear, but Sigmund was with her quickly enough to catch both woman and spear before their falls would make noise to attract other guards. "Help me with this," he said. "We need to hide her before her friends get suspicious."

They hid her unconscious, but otherwise unharmed body (Sigmund had checked; he was not a monster) behind the crates they had just used as their own cover, and Sigmund took her weapon with him. "Thinner and lighter than I'm used to," he quickly whispered to Silas, "But it'll do until I have my own back. Come on, let's go... and let's be careful about it."

A kitchen! Sigmund almost ran inside, only holding himself back by reminding himself where they were, and started looking around. Bottles, bottles... They were of various shapes and sizes, and the Zora quickly started shifting through the racks to look for something suitable. None of them were empty, why were none of them empty? He finally settled on a cylindrical bottle with a cone-shaped bottom, which would be safer in water. To his relief, the only thing in it WAS clean water, a good base to start from. "Keep an eye on the exits," he told Silas, "I need some time to get this right." With that, he turned to the ingredients at his disposal.

Some of the herbs he recognised from Helena and Marci's house, either because she used them in the kitchen or because they were part of herbal cures. Others, he thought matched the description he had gotten from the woman when he had asked her how he could safely transport the eggs. He was not a medic, nor a nurse, so he had had to cram her instructions into his head and now muttered them out loud, like a mantra, as he started tearing jars and bottles from the racks. He mixed liquids and herbs so quickly it seemed almost at random, shaking the bottle every time he added something new, until he ended up with an almost fluorescent blue liquid.

"It's not what they need but it'll be an acceptable substitute," he said as he attached the bottle to his belt. "But it won't stay good for very long. Sir Silas, we must hurry. With luck, we'll find them in tanks... I should hope the Gerudo are at least that knowledgeable..."

"Oh!" Sigmund realised that he'd never explicitly told Silas what it was he was looking for. "Well, as you might know, my people are not born live, like yours. We are hatched from fragile and sensitive eggs. That's what the pirates took from my kinswoman- triplets, three eggs in all, and they're here somewhere." He leapt over the table, impressed with himself for being able to do so without cringing, and joined the Hylian. "They need particular types of nutrition and protection from their environments and can't be kept out of the water for long, so a good number of us either use special liquids or intensive, round-the-clock attendance to raise them into hatching."

He grabbed the stolen weapon, resting it against his shoulder. "The concoction I made is approximately beneficial for them to reside in until we can get them back to their mother, but we have to be fast about it. Serpent knows how long they've been here..." They might already be- no, he couldn't think that. He was here with a mission, and he would see it through. "If the Gerudo aren't completely stupid or cruel, they will be keeping them in tanks, near windows for moderate temperatures and sunlight." He beat Silas to it, opening the door outside and quickly, but silently making his way through the hallway, sticking close to the wall.

"We have to find them as soon as possible... I would rather not have to kill each of these Gerudo for infanticide."

There was no mistaking it! In the middle of the tank of water, there was a small spherical object, little blue spots littered over its surface. "That's it!" he cried, "That's one of them!" Why was there only one, though? ...it didn't matter. They would simply have to search for the other two. He hurried over to the tank, pulling himself up to the high edge of the glass and reaching in. The egg didn't resist to being lifted out of the water, but it was slippery- and along with the film on his skin becoming slick with water the moment he touched it, he had to be quick, lest his fumbling drop the egg on the floor. It went into the bottle without much resistance, and he leapt down.

"That was the first," he said, "But there should be two more. I can't fathom why they're keeping them in separate tanks, but--"

"That's as far as you go, boys." He spun around, watching as a red-haired woman barred the door on the other side of the room, her stance wide and her arms crossed. "You're the ones we put away earlier, aren't you? You should have stayed put. It would have saved you a lot of headache."

"Leave us," Sigmund said, his voice as commanding as he could make it. "Or we will have no choice but to-"

"Pass out again?" The woman grinned, producing two swords. "My poor, dear Zora... when it comes to naval and underwater warfare, we Gerudo are no match for your kind. But on land, we outfight you!"