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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.
She had caught his attention, in some form at least. Circe could tell by the way the man stiffened in his spot, eyes gazing right back at her. Satisfied that she had done something to this mysterious stranger she turns her head, keeping his cloaked form in her peripherals. A slow smile stretching her lips as she continues her walk. She watches him stand rather abruptly and make his way towards her, and out of curiosity, she lets him.
He offers her an arm, displaying a confidence that meant he knew who she was and was not afraid of what she could do, or he was completely ignorant of what he faced down. Circe had so rarely spent any time conversing with the Twili, one of the less sociable races. The Isle wasn't there home after all.
"Me? Well, how could I refuse such a direct approach?" Circe replies, slipping a pale arm through his casually, as if to the rest of the town they were old friends.
Of all the beings on this world, men had always been the most intolerable to Circe. She'd hated most that she'd come across, but rarely were they Twili and so brave to approach her like this one. The brave ones were the stupid ones thinking her weak, unable to stop them from taking what they wanted. Like fools.
When the stranger speaks of falsehoods, she can't help the breathy laugh that escapes her. Lips barely parting from the sound as she watches him, gold eyes unflinching. "The cloaked stranger speaks of falsehoods, does he? To be a falsehood I would very much have to lie to you, and as I have said nothing about me, there is no falsehood you could perceive in me," her tone is measured, no doubt eloquent with her words and calculated.
"But what about you? Hiding from something? Someone? That speaks very closely to a falsehood, stranger."
The open markets and busy streets of Castle Town were exactly what Circe had expected. Loud vendors selling their wares on every sidewalk, people milling about at the height of the afternoon sun. Circe weaved between people, gliding through the crowd smoothly as though no one actually noticed her, or as if she parted them with her thoughts. Everywhere, Hylians, Gerudos, Gorons, occasional Twili, and Zoras were moving in and out of the streets and buildings as they went about their day. None the wiser to the danger lurking in their streets.
No, with the ensuing chaos from Elezear taking the city and the throne, and the disapperance of the royal family. Castle Town had much larger things to worry itself about, even as its locals tried to resume their lives as though it hadn't just been ripped from under their feet. Which was why Circe was here, for that chaos. She'd heard the tales, and planned to see this Zoran prince for herself. Not many of the Zora hated their own kind the way these two did. Destiny had decided their fates, but from what Circe could tell; both of them were taking it back into their own hands.
As the witch rounded a turn out of the market towards the main square, a figure rammed into her shoulder, hard enough to send her off balance by a step before she righted herself. Self control stretched thin by the desire to grab the offender and explain to him what running into people thoughtlessly meant. But he'd run off, and Circe was focused on a goal, one so very close.
"Imagine what the man could do to his own home," Circe spoke her thoughts aloud, musing over the chaos people allowed to rule their lives recently. She admired anyone with a swift ability to take what they wanted, she was much the same. Always planning, always ready to reach out and take from the Zora what they'd stolen from her.
Outside of the market, the city as quieter. More people stared at the Zora woman as she glided her way across cobblestone streets. Gold eyes staring at everything and everyone unflinchinly. Her stark white hair was loose down her back, inside the city walls she no longer dressed like a traveler. Instead she kept her hair loose as she preferred it, wearing loose clothes, like the nearly sheer top and skirt that split to reveal pants. No weapons of any sort to be found.
Circe flicks her eyes across most people she passes, wondering who recognized the tales of the Zora Witch. Wondering if she'd see a familiar face or the face of someone who could get her closer to her goal. Her eyes stop on a particular Twili man, sitting and drinking tea. The only figure she'd seen cloaked who wasn't scurrying around alleys. Her eyebrow twitched upwards in curiosity at the figure.
The idea of the young woman before Circe being this man's savior brought a humored smile to her usually straight lips. Though, the woman did look awfully like one of those healers in small villages. There was no hiding the malice in her smile from the witch. And from simply watching the two interact, this man placed quite a bit of faith in a stranger who helped him once, no doubt to serve her own purposes.
What a fool.
A fool who decides to fall unconscious in front of a wolf, no doubt did he deserve the wounds inflicted on him now. Looking back at the young woman, Circe contemplates her offer. "What benefit do I gain, joining you? I have my own motivations should I decide to approach this new King. He and I have quite similar experiences from the Zora. He'd no doubt be useful to ally with in the hopes of achieving my goals." she tells her, staring absently at her nails while she spoke. "As for turning myself over to these Heroes, I have no intentions of letting them get wind of me."
Circe pauses for some time, contemplating what the woman has said, and then looking back at the human. Unconscious and bleeding he'd surely die in this forest without some help, and under that blood splattered armor looked to be quite the shining knight. "Tell me who he is, and why you saved him. I'll consider your offer more then."
With a snap, Circe shut the book in her lap and set it aside, sitting up straight readying herself at the sound of movement. Too loud to be someone purposely trying to hide, that or they were rather terrible at sneaking up on others. She moves to stand, not trusting this forest and whoever was in it to let herself sit for any longer when a voice in her ear has her spinning. Circe reins back the urge to simply blast the intruder with fire and stares at the young woman before her. Somehow, this woman knew exactly who she was, though it wasn't like Circe actively hid herself, no, she much preferred the fear people had when they realized just who they were dealing with.
At the same time she is being questioned by this woman, Circe hears the crashing sound of someone unable to silence their steps again and she turns. A young man, clearly injured is before her, Circe can smell the faint coppery smell of blood on him. His armor severely ruined, and by the look of him, he was not in much better shape. He's politely asking her if he may use her small campsite for a time, and Circe finds her lips drawing up into their characteristic cruel smile. In the dim lighting, on her rather charming face, the smile could be taken for something pleasant. Rarely was it ever.
Looking back at the woman, as this man, Leon, discovers he is familiar with her new guest. She asks, "And if I am?"
"Not at all, I was just remarking at how lonely this forest felt," Circe says, hiding the bite of sarcasm that threatened to enter her tone. She wondered if this man was as foolish as he seemed. "My name, is Circe." she says simply, gold eyes narrowing and focusing on the woman again.
"You are placing a lot on someone who does not know you, to satisfy your whims. I'm not fond of doing favors for strangers."
After days of seemingly endless traveling, Circe had decided that Hyrule wasn’t the worst place on this Isle. No, Zora Seas still held that title firmly. But with Hyrule, the main cities were in chaos and she had heard of a Eleazear and his plans for the country. The Witch had no mind to try and force herself into the mix of it all; but she couldn’t deny the appeal of his “Rogue Order”. Trekking across this Isle had been what she’d focused on most, that, and the training and studying that pushed that core of heat inside her to its breaking point.
But this kingdom, she decided, may well be worth any risks to stay in. As of now, she had made it just a week out from Castle Town, where she discovered every manner of foul being that could exist. Circe had delighted in showing them just how foul she could be in return. Some alleys would be running just a bit redder for the next week. And with the map she had acquired from some innkeeper in town, she knew that the Lost Woods, that large and famous forest was just a couple days away. Circe had plans to avoid it entirely, she was far more south than intended originally; but the expanse of open fields and plains known simply as Hyrule Field was quiet enough that her trekking would go unnoticed.
The Witch had kept off main roads, always had unless she needed to resupply or the itch for flesh or blood was too much to be ignored. People in every kingdom were all the same to her, every race only slightly different in her eyes. The imaginary borders that they’d all came up with meant nothing to Circe when she could simply step across the line and it was a new realm of rules and people. Yet people acted the same.
Circe continued her trek through the plains, hood up to cover her face, as she scowled at trees and grass. At this point in time, with the sun beginning its descent, she had to find a place to camp for the night. Somewhere isolated where she couldn’t so much as think about anyone passing her. There had been books she’d acquired in Castle Town, books on studying magic that had intrigued her, and she wanted to begin reading them immediately. Thick copses of trees, not quite the famous forest, but close enough to no doubt deter just any traveler, would do. So Circe continued her one-woman march into the trees, dropping her pack in a fairly well-covered spot. Rain shouldn’t be a problem it seemed, and as she settled herself down against the trees, listening around for anyone. The Witch sighed in content at the stretch in her legs as she sat, leather book balanced on a knee as she dug in the sack for bread to eat.
She’d taken a bite of her food, long fingers poised on a page of the book when she caught that sound of movement. Curious, she stared around the trees, wondering if it was just some forest creature or someone stupid enough to come barreling through these woods towards her.
Circe is known to be cruel, ruthless, vicious, and merciless. Willing to cut down any who stand in the way of whatever goal she wishes to achieve. Cruelty is what she was taught as a child at the insults she endured every day since her birth; and now she has adopted it. Made it her own, a weapon to wield. Her ruthless nature drawn forth from the intensive training she put herself through to master her skills, defeat and mistakes were out of the question for Circe. Both vicious in action and wit, she can tear someone apart with her tongue and words as easily as she could with fire or steel. And if someone were to plead, she would see it as the ultimate weakness, despite her own fears of death Circe knows she will not go out begging as dogs do. And as such is merciless when it comes to dealing death. Whether it be quick or slow and torturous.
However, Circe can be surprisingly charming, she is charismatic and resourceful and very cunning. Her beauty is as much a gift from the gods and goddesses as it is a weapon. Crafted and tuned to prey, she uses her beauty to get what she needs from the world. And by traveling and reading, Circe has amassed herself her own personal library of knowledge about the world and how it works and knows how to make it work for herself. While she dislikes it, she is quite capable of communicating with people, though she speaks quite differently than most, normal inflections of emotion are faked or gone entirely; and some words are archaic or spoken differently.
Though Circe is capable of extremely thorough planning, of getting everything she needs to survive and more. She is known to be impulsive, often doing things the moment something irks her or changing course in her travels on a whim. She's chalked up entire leagues of travel to the wind shifting and her curiosity to follow it.
Despite her cold, uncaring nature, Circe has a rich dark sense of humor. Often laughing at morbid jokes or cruel things said to others. She enjoys similar senses of humor. She is quite witty, and enjoys making even slight comments at other's expenses. When speaking to others, when an insult is thrown in public, Circe possesses the head space to not kill them on the spot, and will instead verbally tear someone to shreds. And find a surprising amount of pleasure in it. Being in cities has developed a snarky personality in the Witch, one she uses instead of violence when necessary.
And though she has made herself incapable of genuine emotion for other beings, sparks of emotion have been known to make an appearance for certain occasions. Circe will come to the aid of any woman in trouble, especially those in trouble from a man. Though the men end up dead and women traumatized more often than not, she feels as though a service was done. And the women should be thankful.
Studying the world alone, taught Circe to study the people when alone. Arguably her most useful talent when it comes to interacting with the world, Circe has honed her knowledge on the races to know how to read people and a situation. She finds she is quite good at telling lies from truth and finding people's fears. And she has never been shy to use them against those she wants something from.
And despite the words having been hurled at her in insult from childhood. Circe has picked her titles accordingly. She is a Witch. The titles people give her only serve to bolster her now, because Circe is aware that people insult what they do not know and fear, and by making their fears known, she knows they are weak and deserve the death she'll give.
LIKES
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Fire: The fire in her veins, able to be shaped and wielded as she pleases is her only friend. The power in her veins that makes her lethal
Death: The thoughts of killing those that have wronged her have been at the foremost of her thoughts for years now. And with her choices in killing are not singled to Zora, Circe finds great pleasure in the dying sounds of men.
Violence: Not just the act of killing, but the brutality of fighting, of being left to ones own devices in a fight for survival fills Circe with a primal thrill. She will gladly enter pit fights and take on bandits or monsters to relish the action.
Free Will: Something she had never felt she had as a child, now, she has the ability to do whatever she wishes and will not see that ability lost.
Men: While Circe finds most men to be below her standing, she regularly finds pleasure in whatever race's most beautiful men. She has been known to sleep with men of her own kind, though they very rarely walk away from the encounter. Sex is the closest Circe gets to genuine emotion for a short time.
DISLIKES
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Zora: Dislike may be too weak a word for how she feels to her own kind, after her exile, the Zora are prime on her list of people whom vengeance is waiting.
Idleness: To be stuck in one place for any length of time is a curse, and thus bad weather to travel in is also her enemy. She hates crowded streets that slow her down, and does not like to travel with others.
Weakness: When people show fear and weakness, it sickens Circe. She believes in the strongest conquer and that no one should show fear, for it is what buckles you down and stops you.
Men: While liking them for pleasure, men on their own will normally find a woman weaker and she despises it. Her specific dislike is for men who treat women like dirt, and she has hunted down men for mere bad looks at her or another woman.
MOTIVATIONS
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Vengeance: One day, Circe will see the home she was raised in, and burn it to the ground. It is her life's goal to get revenge on the people that wronged her for nothing other than the circumstances of her birth.
Fear: Deep down inside Circe, she fears her own death, and that she will not seek the vengeance she believes is deserved. Bottling it up and letting it brew somewhere deep within her soul is enough to keep her moving on particularly bad days.
Power: To master her power completely, to be able to shape it into anything to be used against anyone. She trains every day and studies to hit her peak.
FEARS
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Dying: Should she die early, her plans lost to the void. Circe feels as though she would forever mean nothing to the world, and wants to be known. No matter the consequences, but this fear is enough to stall her most impulsive thoughts.
Water: The element most capable of smothering her flames, and the reminder of where she came from, who she came from. It reminds her of her weakest points, a time she is terrified of reliving.
Emotions: All emotions had done for Circe is make her feel pain. The sting of words spoken to a child, and the emotions her own mother could not hide. Emotions are inhibitors, and she relentlessly cows hers in an attempt to achieve her goals, lest they show her weakness.
HISTORY
"That child is dangerous..."
Born to a family of Zora in Zora Seas, Labrynna, Circe was the third child of a relatively well-off family, ancient retainers of the Royal Family. And for all that it mattered, she was rather Zora-like, her milky white skin and silver hair fitting in perfectly among her kind. Except for her eyes. Gold. As deep and flickering as the ancient sun and stars. From birth, even the love of her Mother, Aleto, could not help her. Midwifes and family friends said her eyes were that of a darkness, seeing too much at too young an age. It bred fear into the Zora.
"...no place in Zora Seas..."
As a child, Circe was kept close to her home, taught the ways of life not by mentors like many other Zora children, but by her Mother. And while Circe learned all that she needed to know to live a good lifestyle, even young she knew she was different. Children rarely played with her, her own older siblings kept only the barest of warmth in their eyes around her, and her own Father paid as little mind to her as he could. And when she was six, her devastating secret came out.
Fire. A talent never thought to have existed, had been bred into her. Circe was still a child, when a tantrum started by her inability to go outside to play set a piece of furniture in the main room of her home alight. Bright gold and orange flames flickering higher and higher as the girl and her mother screamed. And when the news got out, it was official. Circe would never belong in the Zora. And despite the fire that she'd been born with, she became as cold as hoarfrost.
"A woman like her stands against who we are."
By her adolescence, there was not one Zora in the entire kingdom who did not know of the strange girl. "She Who Wields Fire" she was called, and the words were a cloak she wrapped herself inside. Burrowing deeper into it, mastering it. These Zora were weak minded and fearful, and it would only serve to grow Circe's cold nature.
While not outright hostile, Circe met her life with cold indifference and alone. Her own siblings had little to do with her unless commanded by their Mother. And her Father had even less, going so far as to travel far and wide for the Zora Family in an effort to avoid the daughter he had created. Only Circe's mother held any compassion for her youngest daughter, often speaking to her in an attempt to coax the young girl back to compassion and to not mind what others thought of her. But Circe did mind, because when she knew what people thought of her, she knew that they were just chattel. Fearful and useless creatures that did not understand power.
"Her kind do not belong here."
At sixteen, Circe's mother died. The only woman who Circe could find herself to care for, and the only person in the world who cared for her, was gone. And it didn't matter what divine beings the world held, Circe cursed them all and locked down her emotions. All feelings gone with her mother, in some afterworld rotting away like they should.
And in this time, Circe learned to master her power, and by the time she was eighteen, the fire she wielded became electricity. Something every Zora should fear without hesitation. But Circe found herself drawn to the raw power in her veins, in the iron she felt in her bones and will that taught her to know better than to be ruled by fear. It was then, that she had decided that if the Zora of Labrynna wanted to be ruled by fear, she would be the thing they truly feared above all.
"Witch...Demon...Creature."
Immediately following the death of her mother and discovery of her growth in power, the Zora exiled her mercilessly. Casting the eighteen year old out of their home and into the world alone. Every insult and threat hurled her way as she left the Zora Seas and began to travel through Labrynna and the rest of the Isle.
The actions of the Zora have implanted an idea into Circe's very core. Vengeance on those that fear her, and cast her out without cause. She devised a plan along her travels, obtain as much power as she could, amass it without mercy and stop any in her way, and come back to those seas, and teach the Zora there, and perhaps the entire race, what fear truly means.
APPEARANCE
Circe is very much the epitome of cruel beauty, with the long legs and lithe moving form that is toned from living a nomadic lifestyle and fending for herself. She has a beautiful face with sharp cheekbones and a proud nose, slightly upturned and cat-like golden eyes, a delicate cupid's bow lips of richest red that look made for cruel smiles. Her long white hair is silvery and falls down to her waist, and is often braided back for convenience. She typically wears clothes meant for traveling; loose pants, tunics belted tight, an thicker jacket or cloak with fur, supple leather boots, gloves. Though, when she finds herself in a city and access to baths and good clothes, she will regularly wear finer clothing; sometimes skirts and dresses with silk. Usually darker reds and black, and never very modest in design.
INVENTORY
MAGIC
+ Gills and Fins: Zora are able to breathe underwater without the help of blue dye or a breathing apparatus.
+ Swim Champions: All Zora swim at ease underwater. They are fast, able to fit in narrow spaces, and can outmatch any other race in the water at ease.
- Weak to Electricity: Zora are not very strong against electricity - especially since it spreads like wildfire in water. It can be fatal if exposed to enough, and they will take much more damage than other races.
MAGIC TYPE: Fire
NAME: Firebolt/Fireblast
RANK: Common
CLASS: Offensive
DURATION/COOLDOWN: One post, it is a near instant cast and attack that requires 2 posts before it can be used again. Should she take more time to summon the attack, the blast is bigger, still one post of use, but 3 posts to cooldown.
DESCRIPTION: Her most basic ability, Circe can send a blast of fire directed at a target or multiple close targets. The bolt is a simple bolt the same length of an arrow with the head of it being slightly larger than a man's fist and tapering in. The bolt can only hit one target directly. The fireblast, however is a bit bigger, more concentration put into her magic, Circe sends a blast in a spherical/meteor-like shape at about five feet in diameter. This blast can hit up to three targets if they are close enough together.
MAGIC TYPE: Electric
NAME: Arc of Lightning RANK: Common CLASS: Offensive DURATION/COOLDOWN: The immediate action of the spell is one post, while it's lasting effects last one more post. It takes three posts to cooldown. DESCRIPTION: The harsher, sometimes more terrifying display of magic, is an arc of lightning that reaches around Circe in a six foot diameter about three feet out from where she stands. The lightning will arc out and hit her intended target with the intention of frying them to the nerves. Once struck, it can stun anyone who remains alive after the initial blast for a short period of time.
TRAITS
Upon creation, characters will be given a certain amount of points to place into crucial fields in the form of labeling terms: Novice (1), Apprentice (2), Journeyman (3), Adept (4), Master (5). Characters will also be given 4 blanks fields where they may place traits that are more oriented to their specific character.
Characters will be given the opportunity to reach a specific rank and upgrade their skill list as well as receive a new skill field. If you include a history, it will be possible to earn more points upon approval by staff.
You have a total of 38 points to spend across these traits. PLEASE USE THE WORD TERMS. NOT THE POINT NUMBER. (i.e. use the term 'novice' instead of '1').