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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.
BLOODY CRANE, Pan accepts himself as a tool who suffers no fools. He values his freedom above all else and though he will abide by man's governing laws there is little stopping him from manipulating laws to benefit he, himself, and none other. His selfish desires are a result of his labours: finding himself caged by family values he could not accept. He has taken his uncle's path, but in the stead of reviving and freeing the art of ke Húm from its dark past he trails down its road, poisoning it with bloody footprints.
Blood in the Water lures all the sharks to the frenzy. Though this barracuda knew his place in the food chain. He had become a failure. The River Zora had failed in every aspect. He was toxic, poisonous and tried to bring Sinnie down with him, like a virus. He wanted to become a god among men, but instead he turned to savagery. Undone by their family's greed he turned down his own path. His uncle was a similar man of frightening fortitude, fraught with fearlessness and fractured by failure. In many ways he was more like his uncle than his father and because of his family's ink tentacles darkening the watering hole there were few places Panos could escape to except up.
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He had once believed that people were born to fulfill a certain destiny, at least that was what his father had told him, but he never had the skill, nor patience, to abide by their rules, their hierarchy and their demands. So when Sinnie left to create his own family Panos remained the target to his kin's ire. The rage grew strong enough that he could no longer hide behind scorn and cold words. His mask shattered and he spent his fortune to forge a blade from Dodongo Bones, of which he used to slay the remaining members of his clan, of those who could not smell the blood in the water and swim away fast enough... In the end Panos escaped his fate, but in that he created for himself for form of a phantom known only as the Bloody Crane, his calling card a finely folded paper crane left floating in the blood of his victims. He became an assassin for hire out of necessity, but he used his new found freedom to search for a new life because there was no going back now. He had crossed the point of no return: right or wrong, he was free. He did what he did, all within the confines of laws, rules, and contracts.
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He finally crossed the threshold and now flies free.
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SPELL OR ITEM NAME: [break][break] Dodongo Bone Katana - A long sword made of steel which is kept in a decorative scabbard at his hip, at all times. [break][break]
RACIAL ABILITY: [break][break] + Gills and Fins: Zora are able to breathe underwater without the help of blue dye or a breathing apparatus. [break][break] + 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. [break][break] - 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. [break][break]
OTHER: [break][break] Black Traveling Cloak - Said to never stained with blood no matter how deep he stands in the rivers of red he cuts, but looking on the inside of the cloak it appears to be crimson. [break][break] Crane Charm - A strong of paper cranes hanging from the hilt of his katana, said to be his kill count. [break][break]
His glimmering gaze rest upon Farrah, catching glimpses of her form as the Gerudo weaved around behind the Human. He took in the details of her outfit, curves and smooth skin. Her fiery locks and toned figure was quite the drink on a day he had to deal with haggard old women pruning in their own skin and men with sunken, tired gazes that just withered him when he looked at them. They were all so hideous, age often taken its toll on the less hearty races. He pitied their meek, fragile existences and wished they too could live a long life of lascivious longevity. The Zora knew well they were once beautiful creatures, but how it twisted his stomach that they could become so ugly and dull so quickly. His smile softened at this thought, looking down on them even as his heart bled for their plight.
His attention had turned to the Rito, staring deeply at her features. He mulled about his thoughts and wondered just how bright her feathers were. The pinions he had tucked into his turban could be considered macaroni, as few harbored the fashion much any more. It was considered inappropriate, but Pan couldn't dare part with such a gift so he wore it proudly and, as such, was rarely, if ever questioned about it.
"You are quite lovely. I am glad to have a chance to see another Rito. Your kind hardly descend from their perches. I was beginning to think you all trudged suddenly from existence. So beautiful…" he cooed before his gaze turned to Maude.
His right hand had come to his mouth, as his left arm tucked beneath his elbow in a contemplative pose that seemed familiar to some present. He had not forgone spying Veriwa, eyes drifting over her white hair and eyes…those eyes. They were the eyes of the goddess' right hand. Devil's and forsakers. They did not have a good reputation in Holodrum, but so long as they had rupee to spend he did not turn others away from business. There was good reason why the Zora dressed in flowing robes. It made it all the more difficult for pickpockets to have their way with his. His moneybag was tucked away in his tunic, the flowing sirwal a plain adversary, but an ample target. There was no doubt this man had money to spend and would throw it at inconsequential purchases.
Such as giant pumpkins.
The man glowed with arrogance. It was hard to tell if it was the glittering gold and silver he wore or his straightforward attitude. Pan knows what he wants and got it… eventually. He listened to Maude with care, but he honestly have no shots about her no-can-do nonsense. It was whimsical that farmers thought they had a choice in matters of business. Sure they had to produce goods, but they depended on shops to purchase the bulk of their goods, leaving locals or out of town visitors to purchase the smallest margin of what they grew. One stray little rumor of a mismanaged crop or a whisper of a stray plant eradicating disease could scar the reputation of a farmer for years, ruining them in a matter of months. Sometimes real threats occurred, natural disasters that none could forestall. Pan did have a fondness for gardening himself. His prized petunia?
Deku Baba.
The man smirked at Maude. He had already considered going to another, more desperate farmer but she looked like a challenge. She seemed headstrong and confident in what she grew. This was more evident by the fight she put up to protect her precious paddy. He turned to fully face her, hands dropping as he presented open palms to her, hands at waist level.
"There must be some way I can garner your interest Miss Maude." He bade, throwing his right arm over his chest and bowing deeply before moving to his knee. "You see I must prostrate myself before you and beg that you find it in your heart, for I do not call upon such a request lightly." He looked up to her, a sparkle of desperate determination flashing before his eyes. "I have spent years searching for a pumpkin of magnanimous size in order to seize the dream of one close to my heart. You see they love pumpkins and I wish to gift them with the greatest gourd money can buy. Since I am no cultivator I depend on you humble farmers to make my dream come true. So far no laborer I have come to has been able to fulfill my order." He moved to stand, sighing as he looked away, head held high. "I cannot change your will, but if you find it in your heart to aide a man in his quest -- you can find my family's storefront in Holodrum, in the Sunken City."
He reached into his tunic and pulled out a small parchment note that had the shop's name printed on the front. A stylized coat of arms using the symbol of the Goddess Nayru with pictographic waves flowing east and west beneath the gold-inlaid silhouette of a shark. The name of the shop was The Golden Shark. Bowing again the man would wait for Maude to accept his card.
Pan reached out to take Sable's offered hand, bowing low so that his forehead would touch the back of it. The deep bow and touch of skin was a sign of upbringing. The subservient gesture was one often reserved for nobles or houses greater. Pan seemed to treat individuals with this respect as it seemed he greeted everyone he passed with an unmeasured exuberance, but there was control in his actions. Outwardly he presented grace and politeness: it was what had been expected of the merchant to maintain friendly, almost familial relationships with his targets. He personally viewed them all like sheep that could easily be persuaded with some sweet grass and lured to leap off cliffs. When he bowed the Rito feathers in his turban were a bit more clear. Bright, flowing. Likely chest feathers from their structure. The man stood back, Farrah and Maude offering him an equally dry response, almost as if they were related. He kept his smile as he stood back, looking between them.
Are you two related in some way?" He surmised based on how Farrah was using Maude as a shield. "Ah, or best friends? They say people who are close share many habits." He put his right hand to his chest and left on his hip. "Many say my cousin and I are practically a mirror! Why he'd be my twin if not for us not sharing a mother!" He beamed proudly as he looked to the women behind the stall.
She was suspect of him, that much was clear by the dry look in her eye. If they were merchants they should be welcoming him with all their spirit to sell their goods. But they had caution in their eyes. Good. He hated such easy prey. Maude too seemed disinterested in his arrival, but that only drove his enthusiasm further! Now he wanted to ensnare them and drag them through the mud. The dark thoughts were hidden behind his calm, glimmering facade. It was practiced for years, taught by schooling and earned through studious mimicry. The barracuda was not a gentle beast, but he did not bare his fangs, which seemed tucked behind lightly blushing lips. Perfect.
"Miss Sable has quite an interest. I too was once interested in growing pumpkins, but with my travels I could never just sit and start a garden. It was why I always visit farms when we are stopped and observe their produce." He looked to Maude, as her explanation did not fall upon deaf ears. "Oh yes this woman used similar techniques, but if I recall she was on a part of the continent that commonly has yellow soil, so her pumpkins grew quite large. I am guessing you are from one of the Eastern areas?" He leaned down to look over the pumpkin. "Tell me, Miss Maude?" He would confirm before standing, maybe missus by her ring, which he seemed to eye a moment, only to allow his glittering purple eyes to drift up to hers.
That stare was deep, almost as if he could see under her clothes. He had a presence about him that could certainly rival any noble, but by his own admittance he was not, but neither was he a peasant. This man had dipped his fingers in many lives and effected them. By how the people greeted him it was generally positive, but there was one or two people who had a sense of fear about them. Maybe it was simply the nature of his confidence and how he carried himself? He not once spoke curtly to the women, nor dismissed their concerns. In fact he seemed invasive curious on just where Maude grew her delicious pumpkins. He stood tall, closing his eyes as his arms came over his chest.
"...you see -- I am looking for the perfect pumpkin." He would declare. "I have been searching for many years and have gone farm to farm, market to market in hopes I would find a perfect specimen of sizable account." So he had a distinct purpose? "It has to be large enough to supply substance to my goal." He looked to Maude. "Tell me, would you be willing to make a trade, not now, but -- come your next crop Miss Maude, would you be willing, or able, to grow pumpkins thrice the size of these? If you can produce just one, I will purchase it for a hundred rupee." Now hundred rupees was not something someone waggled a stick at. That was quite a price and for a single pumpkin!
But what did such an audaciously charismatic merchant want with an overpriced melon?
Castle Town was always exciting. The sun was shining bright and there were many new faces, but old ones as well. The Ujua caravan arrived about a day or two prior to prepare their stall, but it was no where near the perishable goods as the family specialized in tools, antiques and the occasional textile. But the caravan wasn't there to simply trade. Every season they would make their way across the roads and hit the active trade ports and hubs in order to find the latest trend and, if they could not secure it, ruin it. The family's stall was set up away and out of sight of the spices, produce and meat. Honestly farmers were often some of the easiest prey for the traders to single out. They were so busy proudly pushing their produce that they failed to see the marketable and exploitable control they had over a man's food. It was a shame their sort were so charitable. It put profits to shame, really.
Now such thoughts were not of every member of Ujua, but the Zora clan typically did not look to other races to be as clever or as beautiful as they. No these harrowing considerations were of the former head of house: Panos Imera Ujua, simply called Pan by associates lazy enough to knock out two whole letters from his title. His name, in some ways, was associated with the sun and he was quite proud of this fact. How could one not see such when looking to the Zora? The man embodied the sun itself! He wore a white, silken robe that flowed when he move. The loose, long legged, purple sirwal bloomed when he stepped making it appear as he flowed on clouds. He wore, also, a simple kaftan over top it all. The silk tunic was a royal purple embroidered with gold thread. His jewerly reflected the sun and gave the appearance of a halo glowing around his form. When stopped he would turn to greet passing merchants, taking their hand with his bare one. Whenever he shook another's hand his bangle and vambrace were exposed to the light, the silver and gold acessories, respectively, rang with gentle chimes when they bumped against the hanging silver and gold-pressed plates he wore around his neck. A turban decorated with Rito feathers was loosely wrapped around his head: a red ruby at its center, completing the outfit.
It was as if a prince stepped down from his castle, but the man wove himself between residents and visitors as if he had always belonged here. He would stop at each stall and appraise goods, never staying long as little caught his interest.
"Trash, all of it..." He bitterly thought. "It looks as if the Hylians did poorly this year. Their crops are half the size of Holodrum's and their stock is withered. I can only guess nobles had already breezed by, meaning there will be plenty of stock to pick off before the homely housewives can take a gander at sales." But his dark thoughts were put on pause as he slowed to a stop before an unfamiliar merchant.
Now Pan made it his business to know everyone and a stranger was a rival he couldn't manipulate. He strode up behind the Rito, thick brow arching as he smiled. "Those are lovely pumpkins..." While there was a moment of concern, as the towering man, who crossed six and five easily, had view of something else: but his glimmering, purple eyes were indeed on the farmer's remaining stock of produce, in particular the pumpkins.
He recalled a long time ago wrenching a quite robust crop of pumpkins from a bumpkin of a farmer out in the sticks. He convinced the young woman's family to expressly grant him permission to buy the stock off them cheaply to sell in the big city and earn them a profit. Of course the profit was his own and the family was eventually left to make up the loss that winter. He wondered if they survived? No matter. His face, though, was pinched up in a bright smile as he let out a laugh.
"This is the second, largest pumpkin I've seen in my life. What do you feed them?" His laugh was bright, voice deep, but smooth. He was a mature man with an eye for product. "I haven't seen your face around here before..." He seemed to frown at the idea. Stepping back he would bow, a deep flourish that caused his silk cloths to dance as if possessed. "I am Panos Imera Ujua," He held out his hand to the Rito, Human, and Gerudo. "My family's caravan is set up just on the other side of the market!" He was a suspiciously polite fellow.
But in the back of his mind he was curious how such a small, witless looking human could grow such fine pumpkin. How could he profit off their backs...?
You're the reason that you won't see the sun again
A SHEEPISH WOLF,Pan is a man of pleasure and pain so the masochist is often driven to find joy in submission wearing his disguise of power and force others to wear him down. He is a flirtatious man that finds no pleasure in others unless they play his games making wildly sadistic all the same. He believes in creature comforts so is exceptionally materialistic and hedonistic, as he lives for excess.
MAIN PLOT
• I am your Lord - He is out to take back was rightfully his from birth. By twisting and and emboldening his reputation by rending Sinnie's: Panos works each day to gain the backing of his tribe to oust the current leadership. He looks to stir anarchy and revolution among the faithless of the Sunken City and take everything for himself. (Character Growth)
• The Great Pumpkin - In order to regain his hold over his cousin he must first capture him. The man has a queer obsession with pumpkin flavored things and he seeks to find a means to satisfy his hunger and buying his acceptance so that he could have the man willfully return the title onto him. (Character Growth)
SUB PLOTS
• Control - He looks to gain leverage over his kin by manipulating and changing information to his favour. Once he is able to control that information he will be able to take his place as head of the family, but he looks for the evidence he needs to finally prove the death of his father was the fault of Sinnie and his. Even if he has to falsify evidence.(Family)
• Break- Once he controls everything he wants to break it so that no one can have it. He will gather the leaders of his tribe and make sure that they all know their place. He has spent his life gathering the right peices of information in order to tear down their control of the house. He will no longer be leashed by their controlling ways! (Combat)
OPEN PLOTS
• Full Stop - If he is able to take everything and break it the man will be fulfilled but there is always a chance beasts get in his way so he will need to take care of the monsters that he himself has created, but that shouldn't be a problem if he makes the right connections. (Character Growth)
• Anteros - He loves himself and he loves his things. He puts his everything into that which he loves, but his love of others comes withe a steep purchase. The Hedonistic satyr loved to drink, eat, and be merry and lounge about in fine silks and soft pillows. The barracuda needed to be tamed and taught not to bite the hand that feeds it. So long as he is the master of his domain, he will continue to be the entesis of Eros: Anteros. (Romance)
OBJECTS OF INTEREST
• Jewelry; The excessive metal and feathered decorations are far from just show. They are proof of his victories.
All I want to be is me. A cruel and sadistic lord of the rivers. This River Zora's family had long lived in Holodrum, generations passed. He was the son of a merchant: full of power and pride and raised to never bow his head to those around him. He was trained in the art of speaking and could sell a man his own mother. The prestige that Pan was raised to embody was shadowed by the cruelty of his father's lessons where a raised pad was oft times the greatest reward. There were no gentle hugs or soft words in his family and so the boy was woven into a vicious creature that was a far cry from the noble heroes of olde or gentle merchants of the roads. Some years ago his father's brother's family had come to live with them and arriving with them was his most favorite and most precious totem of misery: his cousin Sinnie. That boy was coddled and was still practically in his egg that Pan would take joy in smashing. The spineless, pathetic boy was always the perfect target for his unbridled emotions and the only one he could depend on to set him free from the humdrum of the day. He played horrible pranks on his younger cousin, who was so by two years. If he wanted to go somewhere his cousin would always follow, afraid to be left alone and it did only to inflate Pan's already atrocious ego. He was the perfect sheep, until he committed the ultimate sin by speaking against him and his will. He had decided to drag Sinnie to a dangerous place and when he was scarred and nearly killed he had blamed it all on the boy who, for the first time in his life refused him. This had been a turning point for Pan. If this spineless jellyfish could speak against him who else had such will hidden beneath their depths? The prospect excited him and he sought to know more. He was bound to be the next heir to his family's fortune and unrivaled power in the selling and buying of antiques. But something in the boy snapped and and he had never seen such ferocity. Pan was, to say the least, enraptured by the beast his cousin became and so wished to be better. If a jellyfish could grow fangs than a barracuda could grow wings!
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Pan would be bumped down from heir-apparent as Sinnie brutally took over his family's lineage in a bloody trail, but what could he do? Out do the boy, what else! Pan took great pleasure in the fall of his father and would challenge Sinnie at every turn and what his cousin did he would do more extravagantly and better, if only for his cousin to notice him and turn his blade to him so that they could fight, duel and prove once and for all whose fangs were sharpest. He traveled between Labrynna and Holodrum often, tempting the pockets of nobles and luring the hearts of maidens and sirs alike. Peasant, duke, king: it mattered not. The Zora was driven to amass a fortune that would rival his cousins efforts which was why he had turned to manipulating farmers into paying invisible tribute, trading all but half their stock to have the latest gizmo or doohickey to make farming easier next year.
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Failure. The River Zora had failed in every aspect. Sinnie would look down to him, refuse his efforts and even deny his existence, but he could not for long because if he could capture the ultimate beast he would have his blood's admiration once more and Pan was a man who strove for perfection!
SPELL OR ITEM NAME: [break][break] Scimitar - A curved sword made of steel which is kept in a decorative scabbard at his hip, at all times.
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RACIAL ABILITY: [break][break] + Gills and Fins: Zora are able to breathe underwater without the help of blue dye or a breathing apparatus. [break][break] + 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. [break][break] - 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.
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OTHER: [break][break] Jewelry - To present himself as a beacon of wealth the River Zora wearings rings of gold, a great ruby upon his turban and collars of silver and gilded pressed plates which have three smaller rubies pressed into the gilded plates. A silver bracelet on his write wrist and a gilded vambrace on his left. He wears golden hoops which hang from his ears, a fiend of excess. [break][break]