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!
3/14/20 The staff are working dilligintly on the next plot and introduction to ARC 3 of the site. Over the next couple weeks,
we will be transitioning the plot, organizing boards, and a new location will be added to the site! Please note that Termina will be removed from playable locations
during this process. Thank you for your patience!
Interfectorem Rex, the Kingslayer It is all he is known as. Born into the Shiekah Tribe, born loyal to the Royal Family: Rais was trained from youth in the Shadow Arts. His martial prowess was only surpassed by his intellect as he took to books as easily as he took to the spear. The warrior-poet never forgot the name of his opponents. Whether in victory or defeat the knight would sing their praises and pen their names in rivers of scrolls he kept in his possession. He has lived through many wars and crossed many difficulties. It his ability to take a situation and act was what quickly erased his name from history, leaving behind only his blade because it was this he swore to the Royal Family. If they asked him to jump the knight asked if them how high. He has chronicled many skirmishes and painted countless feats of heroism and barbarism in his writing. He was born the youngest in a family of three. His father was strict towards their traditions, one that his eldest brother had always shied from, carving a sense of shame into the youngest who had looked up to him until his disappearance on the field of a decisive battle for Hylian lands. Many believe his brother had died in battle, but Rais had been there and watched him flee in the face of death. It is perhaps the only manuscript that Rais has never shared.
As he grew the fainter his name became. His ferocity on the battlefield had earned his blade a name, but in the process he had lost his. The Kingslayer was what they named his spear when the weapon felled a King Dodongo. Though it would not be the last Dodongo to grow to the title of King, they were far and few between and quite a challenge to defeat. He had not done it alone and had made sure to give every present knight name in his tale, but the myths seemed to preceded the truth of his writing, something he oft found frustrating. When there was truth written men seemed still to lean towards lies and fictitious tellings of the events at hand in order to raise themselves on a pedestal, but Rais had more pride than that... Soon he succeeded his father in the army once he reached his twentieth year. He was heavily focused on his duty and this left the duty of raising heirs to his house to his remaining brother. It was not as if Rais did not long for companionship, but where was there room for it when you had work to do? This only pushed him deeper into his papers and books. Training, writing: the warrior-poet hardly found free time to join his kin in revelries, often forgoing festivals and nights of drinking to complete a passage in his books or work on his training. Soon he isolated himself from his others.
There was no doubt that Rais was a great knight, but sometimes he forgot that he too was a person that needed time for others.
SPELL OR ITEM NAME: [break][break] Kingslayer - His namesake, his identity: the fallen knight carries an enchanted spear that is cold to the touch. It is kissed by ice magic making it highly effective against plantoid and reptilian enemies. It cannot be held by hands not belonging to its owner as its icy touch would freeze ones fingers to the bone, though it can be handled with covered hands. So long as the metal does not touch flesh its enchantment lays dormant. [break][break]
RACIAL ABILITY: [break][break] + Night Vision: All Sheikah are able to see in the dark if they possess crimson colored eyes; however, they will glow in the darkness, making Sheikah a target for attacks if the others cannot see in the shadows. [break][break] + Lens of Truth: Sheikah have a natural ability to resist illusionary magic of equal or lower rank of their arcane trait. [break][break] + Weak to Light: Sheikah are weak to light attacks due to their natural ability to thrive with shadow based magic. Due to this, they will take extra damage to light magic. [break][break]
OTHER: [break][break] Tattoo - Upon his back is the shadow's eye. He recieved this upon swearing his oath to the crown and has never looked back upon it. For him this is his prized possession and he guards his flesh so that he would not bring dishonor to his oath. [break][break] Earrings - Upon his coming of age his ear was pierced with a single earring which he covets as a symbol of his place in his tribe.
THIS WAS IT! He had worked for this all his life. Some say his actions bordered on zealous, but the Sheikah was proud of his heritage and believed in his kingdom. He was only glad that his title less concerned the history of their rulers and more the records of powerful opponents who attempted to stand against their hallowed halls. His mother accused him of being too stiff as he prepared with a focused tenacity that rivaled the beautification rituals of wedding maids. His armor was polished and his spearhead sharpened. He fretted over this length of his hair, begging his mother to braid it fair so that he could present himself before the royal family with the legacy expected of their tribes.
Though it was last minute his brother insisted that striding up to the Queen in a full suit of armor made him much too formal, so he was assailed until they could push him into a less formal dress. Even still Rais insisted that he remain traditional and would partake in the ceremony in their ancient garb. Absurd as it seemed Rais had it in his mind that others would look at him as less of a Sheikah were he not to. Alas his family relented and he would ride with them to the Castle where he was summoned to take part in the ceremony of oath to become the Queen's Hand. Though he was not made full aware as to what that meant, he knew that there were none more loyal and capable as he.
'Rais, you're muttering again,' his brother warned as the elder sibling fiddled with his shawl, going over his preening one last time. 'You'll be fine. Just don't forget the queen is very kind.' Rais exhaled a shaky breathe he had not known he was holding.
He had never met the queen so the prospect seemed daunting. Reaching up to grasp his brother's wrists the man pressed his warm palms to the knight's pale cheeks. "Brother, am I worthy?" He always feared that he would become as his brother: a nameless face on their family tree.
He looked up to his eldest brothers, him most of all. His other brother, who had not become a knight, but instead a healer, would lean in to kiss at his left and right cheek. Rais' ruby eyes drifted up, blinking away unshed tears.
'Do not worry Rais. You are brave and beautiful and the queen has seen that. Swear your oath. Because there is none who can hold an oath as you can.' With confidence restored Rais would enter the Chamber of Audience and walk down his path. This was what he had worked all his life for, and would -- to the end of his days. There was no hesitation when he knelt before the queen. The ancient garbs of shadow melting into hers...