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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!
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!
Zelda questioned how she had found them, and Nyssa paused before answering. She was being cautious, doubting. Not without reason, but it still stung.
"Your brother, my Queen. He and I met along Lake Hylia, whether by chance or destiny, I do not know. But he confirmed that you were alive, and gave me your location here. Nobody else in the camp knows I'm alive, I figured they have reason to distrust Sheikah as of now."
Zelda's acceptance of her fealty coaxed a soft smile from her, despite the hesitation, and she fell into stride behind her Queen as they walked wherever Zelda was leading her. So many questions danced on her tongue, but she knew there was one thing Zelda had to know.
"My Queen- No, Zelda. I... I have seen a world without you, and it is not for the better. Before we go any further, I want you to consider these words. If I am here, it is not just because I am here to serve you. I serve Hyrule, and Hyrule is dying. The traitor Sheikah need to be stopped, and we need your family where they belong. Triforce or not, your Wisdom is fabaled, Zelda. I trust you have made the right choice in what you wish for the future of your homeland and people."
Once again, a gantle hand rested on Zelda's shoulder.
"You have been through much, with the loss of Link and your home. I can imagine it wasn't easy, and still isn't. But you mustn't forget you are a Queen above all, just as I was not able to forget my role as a Sage. I have seen your lineage make many mistakes, and I hope I taught you well enough to not make the mistakes they did."
Her weapon lowered as the other spoke, and they met eyes when he turned. Suddenly, Nyssa was looking at no mere stranger, but rather a face she knew very well, and her weapon was placed on the ground as she went down to one knee, her eyes still on his.
"I can't believe it... Prince rtemis? I thought you and your family dead. I thought you-"
Moisture pooled in the corners of her eyes, tears of joy, but she blinked them away, covering it with a cough. She had to be proper when speaking to the Royal Family. Goddesses knew that many Sheikah these days didn't.
"Your Highness, you will have to forgive my allegations as such, but one can not be too careful these days. With my people's... Defection, it has been difficult to blend in, and many have recognized me for who I once was. I can only assume anyone near me wants to hurt me."
She rose from her bow, spear planted in the ground as she stood at attention for him, and she took a deep breath.
Artemis was alive. That meant that the others could be, too.
"If you being here is any indicator, your Highness, then that means you and your siblings escaped. Our... Our Queen is alive then. Thank goodness... As well as you all. Though telling people you're a prince might not be the best idea, with how low people think of your family. But, rest assured, my Prince, my loyalties have not budged from the day we were attacked. You have my word."
Further down the shore, a lazy trail of smoke floated up to the sky, and if the prince were any closer, he would smell the scent of a haunch wild boar being roasted. It was a lucky catch for the Sheikah, having taken the beast down moments before several stray Moblins would have come for it. But, here on the shores of Lake Hylia, she didn’t have to worry about attackers, at least of the monster variety.
But when she saw another camp being put up, she was reminded that not only monsters wandered these fields.
Still, they were setting up near day, so they weren’t trying to hide themselves. Nyssa settled back in, focusing on her meal, but amidst the sizzling of fat hitting the fire and the soft flickering of the fire, she felt a pull. Something, whether it be divine or her intuition, was drawing her to curiosity. Her eyes kept locking onto the camp, until the feeling was too prevalent to be a coincidence. She raised the spit higher so the meat would cook slower, and knelt down, picking up her spear. As an afterthought, she looked down at the hood to her outfit and put it on, concealing all but her eyes. It wasn’t the most conspicuous one she had, with its Sheikah runes embroidered around the border in bright blue, but it would have to do. She needed to shake this feeling.
A few whispered words, and her magic hid her camp, keeping it just out of view of the mortal eye. The sunlight bathed the area in bright red, but also cast large shadows she snuck through, circling around wide to the outside of the other camp. As she approached, she saw the single man working to set it up, eyes narrowing as she noted his armor. The make was too god for him to be a traveling merchant or peasant. He could be dangerous.
She stowed her spear in its holster on her back, and willed the shadows to her bidding again. Small movements out of the corner of his eye, just enough to catch his attention, as she silently crossed the distance between her hiding place and the camp. Only when she was in a position she felt safe at, did she step down harder, and audibly. The mysterious man would turn to see the hooded Sheikah staring him down, only eyes visible through her hood.
”What brings you so far from civilization, stranger. Only two kinds of people wear armor like that: thieves who stole it, and warriors. I’m not too keen on camping near either, so we either talk peacefully or you leave. By force, if it must come to that.”
The light of the lantern was what alerted her to Zelda's presence, and not her footfalls. Good, she remembered how to move silently in shadow. She remembered her lessons well. Still, the Shiekah said nothing until the princess' eyes laid on her, eyes shut as she focused on the spear balanced on her lap. She was perfectly still until Zelda joined her in the secluded glade. Green eyes opened, but she didn't look to her Queen. Not yet.
"Zelda. It has been long since I last saw you. I take it you are well?"
She finally met the gaze of her Queen, eyes glinting in the light of Zelda's lantern. Her spear was set on the ground, and she stood, slowly approaching the other woman. Her hand rested on Zelda's shoulder, then gestured for the girl to sit where she just had been.
"I am glad to see you well, my Queen. I had heard rumors of your survival, and it seems my optimism at them has paid off. I... My people have fragmented, and many have... Dissented, but I remember my solemn duty to you and your family. You are no longer the child I once taught, and you have lost much. But I..."
She paused, fist clenching, but she didn't turn back. Instead she crossed her arms, and stared off into the distance.
"Child or not, I will stay by your side to do whatever it is you will. I will uphold the sacred duty of my people on my own."
Traveling at night brought out the beauty of the woods, a beauty many didn’t quite appreciate. Most tended to avoid the Lost Woods, whether because of its name or reputation. Indeed, one could find themselves lost, but if one knew where to go and what to look for, they would find their way out. Or, in this case, deeper in.
All Nyssa’s years of atonement had led her to finding the guild ran by her former charge.
Fireflies danced about, the only source of illumination for the Sheikah as she came to the entrance of the Hylian Ruins. Dark didn’t bother her, though, as shadow was her greatest ally. And, to her joy, the rumor she had caught on to was true. Sheikah guards stood posted, and she saw camps and tents set up. There really was a guild here. It could only mean one thing.
There was enough movement for the guards to turn heads, but Nyssa knew her shadow magic would work. Silently, she entered the camp, moving from cover to cover, taking in all she could. The Heroes of Hyrule, they called themselves. Shields, swords, spears. All were put against walls, or tucked under hammocks and lying in open tents. It truly was a home for those who believed in Hyrule.
But the rebuilt parts of the ruins caught her eye, and she felt almost drawn to it. Her breath hitched, and she looked towards it. She had to be there. More silent movement, and she was before it, pushing the door open silently to one of the rooms. Nostalgia hit her, and even if she wouldn’t have recognized the clothing Zelda favored, the feeling of light she felt was comforting.
But Zelda was not here. It wasn’t an issue, though. Nyssa knew what to do.
Minutes later, she was out of the camp, her goal complete. She sat upon a stump of a tree, one that had broken off in such a way that it had a back like a chair. She quietly polished her spear, keeping an eye out. Zelda knew what the coin would mean if it was left on her pillow, and the girl knew where to look. She would find the trail of trinkets leading to Nyssa. The Sheikah’s whole form hummed with anticipation, but she didn’t show it outward.
”It was no trouble at all, your Highness. In the end, I suppose all that matters is that contact is established.”
She chewed thoughtfully on her food, pleased that her Princess hadn’t reprimanded her on the spot, stripping her of rank and honor. Maybe she was too hard on herself. Regardless, she took the formality of taking time to ponder Marin’s request to stand by their side. She knew Marin was aware what her answer would be, it was obvious. Slowly, she answered.
“Hyrule suffers without its bloodline on the throne. The people made a foolish choice, one I vehemently oppose, and we have suffered greatly for it. For months, I’ve traveled in the shadows, and worked for the royal family as envoy of your good name. It is not a matter of if I want to, but a matter that I must. The Shiekah stand to support the royal family, and I will be your stalwart guard. Others of my people may have defected, but they are not Shiekah any longer. They are outcasts. I wish to stand as champion of my people, Princess, and the best place to do that is at the side of the Hyrule family.”
She paused, to let it sink in, the last of her food chewed up and swallowed. With nothing else to do, she found herself unbinding the blade from her lance, producing a whetstone from her pouch. She liked to have something to do with her hands when nervous, it was calming. A soft grinding of hard grit against steel punctuated her silence as she awaited an answer, not too loud, but there.
KURA = 4082 WORDS amounting to a total of 2041 RUPEES and 812 EXP! RAWLIN = 2082 WORDS Amounting to a total of 1041 RUPPEES and 412 EXP! WILHELM = 3036 WORDS Amounting to a total of 1518 RUPPEES and 607 EXP! PERSEUS = 1279 WORDS Amounting to a total of 1518 RUPPEES and 251 EXP!
Kalidah seems to be inactive, but will be rewarded if active again
The pieces were all put before him, shards of metal that held the legends of many before him. This blade was his legacy, and here it sat, shattered into shards because of him. To free him. It was his duty to re-forge this blade, his sacred task. The Master Sword was the sword that would vanquish evil. But, not even a week ago, he’d been afraid to bring it back to life.
But now he didn’t have a choice.
The heat from the Goron forge was rather intense, and he found himself topless, tunic set aside as he looked over the dull glint of the blade shards. The legends said that the blade of the hero contained a great sword spirit, one that would only die if the Hero did. Touching the hilt always gave a sense of familiarity with the blade, but now he knew why. And it was his job to save this spirit mentioned in the legends.
Almost hesitantly, the Goron assistants helped him sweep the shards into the crucible, along with several more chunks of their finest iron. There would be loss if they just melted the shards down, making the blade smaller and more fragile. They had to be careful. Even if the metal was blessed, it was still metal. The smallest imperfection would lead to a broken blade.
Tongs grabbed the crucible, and Link found himself carrying the crucible to the kiln, putting it in place. He had to keep a close eye, according to his Goron assistants. Their forge melted metal faster than any other. No more than a minute, or the ore would be ruined. He watched the metal melt down, those beautiful etchings fading. It was almost sad. But the sword was being given another chance he had
It was rebirth.
When the metal was down to a liquid in the stone bowl, the tongs once again grabbed it, and Link made haste, careful not to spill a single drop. The mold was already prepared, and it was just a matter of pouring the ore inside it. It went flawlessly, and he was grateful for his brief training. The rectangle of ore would be the start to his long task. He still had far to go.
So, as it settled in the mold, Goron assistants threw coal on it and straw over it. Then he waited.
The bar of ore that he had was a dull silver, looking nothing like the sword it once was. But, somehow, it held some degree of divinity to it, a deep luster that offset its roughness. It had cooled enugh for him to handle, very briefly, before the head smith gave him a hammer and chisel. He knocked certain pieces of the ingot off, setting them aside. They would be the edge. But for now, he had to make the spine.
Blade entered forge, billows going to stoke the flame as the bar was heated to a white-hot state. The Gorons had welded a temporary bar to it, so he could hold that while hammering, and put him in a leather vest that stuck to his skin with sweat. It was unpleasant, but he had no time to worry.
His hammer fell almost automatically on its first strokes, bar taken out and put upon the anvil. Half of it was hanging off the anvil, which he knocked to a right angle, then flipped the bar, putting one part atop the other. A few heavy swings welded the pieces together. Then, it was back into the forge, to be brought to temperature again. And again. And again.
Thirty-six folds later, he began lengthening the blade.
It started with a subtle stretching, hammer hitting so each blow pushed the metal out further, thinning and elongating it. With his previous folding being so hard, he found this task calming, and relatively simple, making small adjustments when suggested. Soon, he had reached the desired length, and had beveled the proper shape into it.
Before him sat a rough of the spine of the blade. Another wipe of his forehead, then a last treat before it was put into the oil. The liquid ignited at the slightest touch of the cherry red blade, but stopped when it was withdrawn, cooled down. But his work was far from done.
Next was the chunks set aside, meant for the edge. While his spine cooled, he worked these into a sort of bar, working it the same way as the previous metal, but with much less folding. The thin bar was split into two with the help of the head smith, and each bar was shaped to one side of the spine. Each was heated, and with the blow of the hammer, red hot metal fused in a weld. It took a few passes, and a couple oil treatments, before they stayed on, and he moved to the second forge, a lower temperature one. When the sword was blued enough, hammer beveled the edges, and the shape of the blade really came to fruit.
Sun was replaced by moon and sun again by the time he was done. The blank of the blade sat before him. He took a seat, drinking greedily from his waterskin, but he was relieved.
It was out of his hands now. He could sleep.
When he woke up, he was presented with something he was convinced wasn’t what he made at first. The blade sat before him, the grinds finished, and polished to that shining silver. With great care, and review of the old texts, the etchings of old had been re-applied, and the sword had been blued, giving it the appearance of a rainbow when it caught the light.
It was done. All that was left was putting it together, a duty they left to Link. Crossguard was slid down the tang, followed by a spacer, and the new handle, at Link’s request. It was crafted of the branch of the Deju tree. He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but the old tree seemed ever so eager to contribute. This was leather wrapped, And fit well in his grip. All that was left was the pommel. For some reason, he felt nervous to put it on, but took a breath and screwed it onto the end of the tang. With the last turn, he swore he felt a wind blow, even this far underground, and looked around.
A voice popped in his head.
It was done. He had succeeded.
“Hello, Fi. It’s been a while.”
“I always knew you’d come back. It was only probable.”
((This is just a little drabble that came to mind, and I felt like getting something up on site. Consider this supplement to my submission, or disregard if you're so inclined.)