Z-RP was created by NAVI. LEGEND OF ZELDA was developed by NINTENDO. All content belongs to its respective creators.
All images belong to their respective artists. All codes and scripts belong to their respective coders.
The skin was created by Alcove. Board Layout was made by NOVA for ZRP exclusively. Do not attempt to steal or emulate anything on this board.
A LEGEND OF ZELDA ROLEPLAY
Welcome to ZRP! We are an non-canon RP site with an original tale taking place within the
lore of the Zelda Franchise. While the events of this site are entirely non-canon, we take advantage of the canons of other
games to explain its story fully. As such, we are located within the CANON TIMELINE. Do you like what you see? If so, feel free
to register and join our story! If you have any questions, you can join our discord, located in our important links!
11/12/21 GUESS WHO'S BACK! Thats right, and we are cooking up a good ol reset for everyone. Please be patient as things will be a little empty as we archive. Pop into discord if you have questions.
"I find sometimes I care too much for my own good."
It was time for a change of pace among her people. War had been won, but the price was steep - steeper than Tiaris had anticipated. Many Rito had to be laid to rest, and more were put out of commission thanks to the Goddess' army. Many of her inner circle were either six feet under, or too traumatized by the horrors they witnessed to return to their positions in good conscience.
She had to make a move. And it was time to consider her assets still left over.
Intel was slow to gather, but a promising lead had presented itself to her today. One of the ties she made was to the Rito teachers, looking for the promising youth to fill positions held for years. A greater change than her ancestors could have made, for sure. The girl she was off to meet had promise for her plans in the future, a knowledge of other cultures that was above average. And yet, she worked on a simple farm, lived a quiet life.
That was all to change.
The grass underneath foot blew to the side as she landed, along with her guard, and silver magic surrounded her as she shed her ancestral form, the sheen of the veil dissipating as she stepped forward, observing the farmstead for a moment. Humble was a good way to describe it, and humility was something she was looking for.
But there was still judgment to be made, and a proposal to be offered. She motioned for her guards to follow, and walked to the door of the building she expected to find the accountant. Three sharp knocks, and then she backed from the door, her guard posting on either side of the door, bows leaned against it at their sides. She crossed her arms, waiting.
If she took a minute to think about it, Sable would have to admit that the day had been going pretty well, all things considered. Harvest season was, obviously, one of the times her office was hardest hit with work, and so she’d come in early that morning to get ahead on requisition paperwork and orders. While the idea of equal division of food was an honourable and simple one, the reality behind it required a lot of oversight and no small amount of bureaucracy.
Fortunately Sable was good at that sort of thing. She enjoyed numbers and people, and this job was both of those things. Her office was modest, at least this version of her office. A simple, sturdy desk held binders of paper, while a quill, ink pot, and her secret ingredient (a backup inkpot) sat to the left side. Her chair was hard and straight-backed, but she’d brought in a pillow from home to sit on top of it so as to not be too uncomfortable. The large, double windows behind her desk were flung fully open, so that she could enjoy the slightly cool breeze coming in from outside. It also allowed her a view of the fields and the ability to occasionally pick up on distant conversation. The murmur of distant noise helped her work more efficiently, the breeze helped keep her mood aloft.
Various rugs and tapestries hung in the office, and a few extra, significantly more comfortable, chairs sat arranged around the front of Sable’s desk for when her superiors visited. The Rito liked keeping a little bit of comfort in the room, and she found that cloth on all surfaces possible did a great deal for that. It also helped insulate her against the unwanted structural noise of an ancient building. A large shelving unit opposite the open window and Sable’s desk held bound papers and folders, decades-long records of previous harvests, censuses, and accounting paperwork to tie them together. While there was no way in hell she was ever going to read through all of that, Sable liked having it around in case she needed something specific referenced. Fortunately for her, the woman who had her job previous had been obsessed with keeping things orderly and clean, so she didn’t have to do anything but arrange her new documents to match what was already there.
Overall, the room was fairly spartan in its décor, which was something Sable enjoyed. While she personally wasn’t the type to wallow in asceticism, something about having a space away from home that was so well-kept helped separate her work from getting too personal. The only luxury she allowed herself was a piece of Sheikah technology, a small iron plate balanced on a wooden base that heated anything sat atop it, currently itself sitting on a small table near the windowsill. A kettle gently puffed steam out of the spout, signalling its proximity to a final squeal. A small, porcelain plate sat next to the Sheikah device, on top of which sat a cup with a small mesh bowl over the top. In the strainer sat several small, blackened and twisted leaves.
A knock at the door came. Sable looked up, confused; she was not expecting anyone, and catching her by surprise was truly a feat. Three sharp raps to the wood denoted authority, professionalism. She was intrigued, but also fairly nervous. Still, she approached the door and smoothed out her dress before opening it. Outside of her swept bangs, her dark red hair was gathered into a loose, low ponytail in the back. She was wearing a high-collared, chestnut blouse and long skirt combo with gold patterning over heeled boots.
The sight of Tiaris with her entourage caused Sable to raise a hand to her mouth. Of all the people she could have anticipated, this was certainly the last. After a few seconds of silence, in which she gathered her thoughts, Sable dipped into a respectful curtsy. “Matriarch, I’m afraid I was unaware of your coming, otherwise I would have prepared.” 3... 2... 1... At that, she raised back up and gave a large, beaming smile, “Unless I can offer you some-” the squeal of the kettle punctuated her sentence perfectly, “-tea.”
"I find sometimes I care too much for my own good."
She couldn't say what she expected out of this Rito she was told of, but when the door opened, and she was met with the surprised girl in front of her, she couldn't help but smile. She looked like she fit right in on the farmstead, fair and smiling at her matriarch, inviting her in for tea. The whistling of the kettle was appealing to her, and she nodded.
"The offer is greatly appreciated. Sable, if I'm not mistaken? I was hoping to speak to you about something I'm working on, I take it that it's fine if I come in and relax?"
She took the chance to let herself into the office, seeing two seats she could plant herself in, and took the chance to get comfortable, glancing around the office. It was well kept together, organized, cozy yet welcoming. It told much of what kind of person Sable was, and she knew she'd picked right. Looking to the other woman, she gestured for her to sit, with a nod.
"I'm afraid I don't have the time I wish I did, so please, sit. I've come looking for somebody to assist me in a task, and through some sources I hear you are knowledgable in something may benefit me, and our people as a whole. I also can see you're eager to please, which is admirable. Let's talk."
Since the Matriarch’s coronation, Sable had found herself particularly taken with her. Her regal stoicism, that tightness around the eyes and lips, certainly had its hooks, but what had made her heart quicken back then was the extreme fire in Tiaris’s eyes. That passion, that rage, a wildfire that had a way of making those witnessing it hot under the collar. Through the years since that day, she’d been simply smitten, but it was difficult if not impossible to just approach someone when she wasn’t a known figure or important. Nor could she easily justify sneaking into Tiaris’s dreams, even for a peek, without meeting in person first.
To have her in her office brought back that excitement yet again. Forgetting herself, she took in the moment, the sight. As Tiaris requested entry, Sable quickly and graciously moved to the side, beckoning her toward one of the comfy chairs. “Please, Matriarch, nothing would please me more.”
With the grace of someone who enjoys being watched, she quickly moved behind her desk and de-activated the Sheikah device. Slender hands lifted the teapot, deftly pouring the just-under-boiling water into the lone teacup until it was nearly full, then lifted the tray and brought it to Tiaris. She waited for the woman’s nod before placing the tray within comfortable reach of her and sitting in the seat nearest her.
Tiaris continued, speaking of her laments at a lack of time- truly a tragedy, how little one could accomplish with a need of sleep – and hinted at something she might need. At the line about an eagerness to please, Sable felt her cheeks flush and she stifled a slight giggle behind her hand, but she regained her composure quickly. Besides that second, her eyes hadn't left Tiaris's. She was swimming in that passion, happier just for being near it. Normally professional and guarded, no doubt she looked every bit as taken as she was.
Straight-backed with her hands clasped -tightly- on her lap, she responded simply, a curious smile on her lips. Her eyes were still locked on the Matriarch's, speaking everything her words did not. “I would be honoured! Consider me your servant, happy to do whatever you ask. What would you need of me?”
She knew the look of devotion when she saw it, the eyes of her newest project locked on her firmly the whole time they spoke. She hadn't expected somebody so open to the idea, but utter loyalty made this easier. That, and the fact that whereas she was looked at with admiration, there was something more to that look, and she found herself raising an eyebrow, before breaking eye contact to accept her tea cup, holding it to let it cool.
"Your current purpose is small, yet admirable, but I've a greater task for you. A promotion, of sorts, should you be willing. As much of my council joined in the battles, and many fell, I am looking to patch the holes put in it by this war - as well as by my ancestors. I need minds alike mine, people who will work with my goals to work towards prosperity of the Rito. And that means knowing thy enemy, so to speak."
"I hear your passion is school was studying other cultures, and it's that pursuit of knowledge I need. I need a strategist just in case, somebody who knows who we may face someday. Your tasks would be to determine the best way for us to mobilize and where to use diplomacy, as well as act as my personal bookkeeper and attendant."
She paused to take a small sip of her tea, once again making eye contact, staring into those eyes that swam with admiration. She had her hooked, that much was apparent, but she admittedly was intrigued at taking things a step further, just to be sure.
"I can assure you, that look in your eyes inspires confidence that you could attend to me just fine. Take some time to think it over, and then we can discuss the details of your... Employment."
It wasn’t as if she was the type to brag, but it seemed Sable’s long-term goals were starting to come to fruition. While she knew better than to be too confident, she was in the one place she’d always wanted to be: the eyes of the Matriarch. And she was rocking this interview anyway.
The position Tiaris laid out was a complex and important one. This was a good thing; it meant she would be needed long-term, especially if she was able to weave herself into the role to a level that would be impossible to unravel. It was Tiaris herself that had sparked Sable’s interest in the study of different cultures and racial histories. To have that rewarded with an offer to be her personal cultural strategist was everything she could have dreamed. It was almost more appealing to her than the person making the appeal: she fantasised about making little diplomatic appeals wrapped in strings of ulterior motives. The amount of dreams she could wander into, the secrets she could learn. She hungered for it.
Of course, there was the other, more unspoken, perk to having this job. Personal attendant and bookkeeper meant frequent, if not constant, access to Tiaris. Even outside of the proximity to power element, the cultural mores and implications of Rito jobs were not lost on her. Especially once Tiaris paused, then punctuated her offer. The directness of the woman, the burning passion in her eyes, the emotional energy Sable could practically taste, caused the red to creep into her face again. “I… would be honoured, Matriarch. You’ve clearly done your homework on me, which means you know I’ve done mine. I would very much appreciate this opportunity.”
A thought suddenly popped into Sable’s head, and she lit up with a smile. “Would you mind terribly if I came calling tonight, and we can conduct a proper interview?”
Interesting how eager she was to please her Matriarch, and yet she still felt she had something to prove. Tiaris took a pensive sip of her tea while she contemplated Sable's response, before setting the cup down to fold her hands in her lap, focused once again on the other Rito.
"My intention was for your employ to begin immediately, but I see there's more to you than meets the eye, if you are still so eager for an interview. Were I a more simple minded person, I would take this as flirtations, but I can see in your eyes your devotion to the Rito. Understand the time tables I must work on, though, with rebuilding from war comes limits, many meetings. I would suggest if you have something to demonstrate, it can happen in the now."
With this, she resumed sipping her tea, taking another moment of thought, before chuckling to herself and looking back to Sable.
"Unless, of course, what you seek is a nighttime activity. Perhaps you were propositioning me after all."
and in your heart shall burn an ever-present desire of me
Much to her chagrin, Sable was taken off guard by the Matriarch’s statement. She had perhaps mistaken or miscalculated the length of time she was meant to take some time to think it over, but perhaps Tiaris had simply expected she would jump at the opportunity to please her leader. They’d have to get to know each other a little better than that first; if dreams didn’t count, Sable was still a virtuous young woman.
She could see the lines forming now, though. The little threads of conversational possibilities lying before her each begging to be taken. The Matriarch was giving her an opportunity to drop some formality, challenging her in hopes of seeing more than just interest. She knew the last sentence wasn’t chiding, it was a challenge. If there was anything she liked more than a pursuit, it was a challenging one.
“Perhaps you are right,” she demured, casting her glance upon the guards for but a moment before resuming eye contact, “there is no reason to rush things. Do you wish to accompany me to my resignation, or would you prefer I meet with you at the Grand Hall after? I fear I’ve never been inside, so I will need assistance finding my new workplace.”