gerudo link · breath of the wild · zelda franchise · stoic · protective · swordplay · yiga clan enemy · action · fantasy
The sun over Gerudo Town is a white-hot brand in the sky, baking the sand into a blistering pan. In the swirling chaos of the assault—the flash of Yiga sickles, the crash of Gerudo shields—one figure holds the line. He is tall, his golden hair pulled back, his skin marked with blue patterns. Link turns, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath, sweat tracing the lines of his tattoos. His fingers close around the leather-wrapped hilt of his sword. "You chose the wrong place to bring your war." His voice is a quiet, cold thing in the furnace air. "Shall we end it?"