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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.
appho looked over from behind the Zoran Witch to observe a bloodied soldier stumble into the encampment. To her mild amusement, it seemed it was the same man who she had deigned to save during the time her peaceful respite had been broken by the acolytes in Hyrule Castle Town. Her smile losing any precious signs of malice, she glided towards Leon, somehow managing to not trip, and proceeded to talk with him. ‘It has not even even been a week, and yet you have managed to meet with me twice! That is an honour few people achieve in a lifetime, let alone a few days!’ A quiet but sharp voice pulled her from her astonishment, and turned her attention back to the seated Zora.
‘Do not fret, I expect no unwilling help from you. But, if you do so wish, I would gladly accept your assistance. Rather, I am here to ask that you take no action, to make sure that you neither join with those fools in the Rogue Order, nor surrender to to the so-called Heroes. I trust that your magical gift is enough to stave off any potential foes you will face off against, but it does not hurt to forewarn you.’ Then suddenly, her face was covered in a pensive look while her voice changed to become more monotonous, ‘Of course, I shall accept your answer if you decide to not join me, but it would be such a disappointment…’
Stripped of my pride, my sanity, even my mortality, I have resigned Myself to the role Of an onlooker.
appho twirled her richly embroidered umbrella as she made her way through the dark undergrowth of the forest, a light hum buzzing from her lips. Any onlooker would have been surprised that she had not fallen onto the damp grass while she was skipping along - indeed she looked to be oblivious about her surroundings. And true enough, she would have hooked her foot on many a tough vine or a thick root, had they not all receded from the path she took, as if snakes retreating from a bright flame. For Sappho had no time to lose from such a careless act as her tripping, she was focused on one particular objective: she needed to find the so-called Exiled Witch before those in the Rogue Order convinced her to officially join their ranks, or those in the Heroes of Hyrule hunted her down and imprisoned her.
This peculiar Zora with a talent for fiery arts was a fascinating specimen to Sappho, and she wanted to make claim of Circe before either side could snap her up into their jaws. Sappho viewed the Zora’s unique ability to be a sign of something much greater, a power symbolising the imbalance of the three divine codes, Courage, Wisdom and Power. For a girl born of the Zora, usually attributed to the element of water and thus associated with Nayru’s Wisdom, to have control over the element of fire which fell under Din’s Power, must be a fierce anomaly in the tribe. And so, naturally, a woman with such a high level of curiosity and love for anything that may undermine the codes of the Golden Goddesses like Sappho was eager to lay claim to Circe before anyone else.
And so, as Sappho spied a small light among the darker colours of the forest, her mouth twisted into what could be vaguely called a smile, if ever such a term could be used for an expression filled with so much malice and hostility. She skipped towards the hunched over figure that could be vaguely made out among in the darkness, all the undergrowth that potentially barred her path having receded and making her approach practically silent. As she stood behind the relatively young witch, she softly whispered into Circe’s ear, ‘So you are that devil of a Zora that I have been hearing so much about lately? Will you show me the extent of your fires, so my long trip can finally be justified?’
Stripped of my pride, my sanity, even my mortality, I have resigned Myself to the role Of an onlooker.
aving given up on continuing the battle any further, her body riddled with many sores and bruises, Sappho simply sat on top of a barrel in wait for what would be next. She had never planned to actually take part in this battle, but had become so carried away in the heat of it all that she had. For her true aim was to reach a certain ghostly vessel that was haunting the Sea of Storms, a ship with valuable knowledge on a particular goal of hers. Leaving them to their devices, she hurried back to the inside of the captain’s quarter and drew out several charting maps.
‘The location of the Ghost Ship can be traced by looking at its previous coordinates and the moon's cycles. The correlation is plain as day, or should I say, plain as night. Now, to find out it's current position… by placing these two maps together and marking them… if these two points coincide… aha! I have the position, and it's…’
With that, she felt a great heave as the ship crashed into the giant squid and pierced through its rubbery skin. She looked back down at the scroll in her hand with the coordinates written down, pausing to ponder on the nature of the appearance of the kraken and the files found about it in the captain’s desk.
‘What if this creature is merely a guardian of the depths in this sea, and these dangerous waters?’ And then it hit her. A thought that seemed so obvious in hindsight, ‘Or what if it was a ward against something else entirely different!’
With those words, a large (well-timed) object broke through the surface of the waters a kilometre away, it's deathly glow casting a creepy light across thle now calm waves. It's appearance brought on a strange lull in the sea, with not one ripple to be seen, nor a gull to be heard. It was as if everything in its vicinity was dead. ‘So that is the long sought-after Ghost Ship?’
Stripped of my pride, my sanity, even my mortality, I have resigned Myself to the role Of an onlooker.
he great squid launched another onslaught of tentacles in retaliation to the crew's efforts, a few lashing the Zora ship’s lower deck, while others dealt with the pirate's vessel. Sappho had unfortunately been caught up in the path of one tentacle, which swept her across the wooden floor, her footing only stabilised by a quick thought of grabbing onto a rope dangling from a higher beam tied to the mast. This, however, had an adverse effect on her positioning as the rope suddenly swung dangerously to the left, leaving her helpless above the raging seas.
Even after seeing the sharp rocks jutting out of the water in a not-so-welcoming fashion, Sappho merely sighed in exasperation, mumbling to herself about her luck so far. Thankfully, the wind changed direction only a moment later, allowing her the chance to swing back around to the upper deck, which she missed completely. As she tried to land back on the ship, the rope jerked even more sharply to the right, causing her to move towards the squid at an alarming speed. Taking this as an opportunity, Sappho used the momentum from the swing to take her towards the squid before dealing a hard hit right to it’s face, which reeled back in pain.
However, the force from the kick once again changed her direction, the rope veering to the right once again. This sharp change disorientated Sappho who was unable to hold her grip, and she tumbled from her position and fell back to the lower deck where she had a soft landing on top of a barrel of rum. ‘At least one good thing came about from that ghastly experience: the rum certainly isn't gone.’
Stripped of my pride, my sanity, even my mortality, I have resigned Myself to the role Of an onlooker.
he soldiers escorted Sappho to the upper deck, her expression now changed to a stony resolution from her previous annoyance, and awaited for the captain’s arrival. However, it wasn't a Zora she was greeted by, but a rough’n’ tumble, pirate who had their dagger pointed straight into the captain’s back. Sappho rolled her eyes as she saw this, muttering under her breath, ‘Even pirates don't change, I see.’
Unconcerned about the situation the captain had just been out in, she strode into his quarters - guards attempting to bar her way in vain - and cosied into a nice armchair she found and started to file through various documents on the oak desk sat on the side. ‘Ah, they are a denomination of the Sea Zora’s royal guards? Must be a quite a large amount of goods or a high standing member of society they are transporting, for them to be sailing in these turbulent waves, I wonder if it's a relative of that ruthless king I met a few decades back… what was his name? Ah, yes. Phorcys! But, would he even still be alive after such a long time? He didn't look to be too hea~’
Sappho was abruptly interrupted from her musings as she heard cries for help, before a monstrous crash shook the boat. Sappho, reluctant to get up from her comfortable position, slowly rose from the armchair and made her way back onto the rain-battered deck. Dwarfing even the boat, a salmon pink tentacle sweeped across the deck, taking a few loose nets along with it. Two figures stood up to it, staring it down as they determined their next course of action. One seemed to be a human whose clothes denoted some rich background, while the other was… that hopeless pirate, who slowly drew his sword to produce a sharp blade with a soft blue glow surrounding it. Sappho’s eyes shone with a dark humour at the sight, ‘Even a petty pirate such as he holds a shard of that sacred relic? What a twist you Goddesses have been dealt, that such a person with selfish desires has come to claim your dearest treasure!’
Stripped of my pride, my sanity, even my mortality, I have resigned Myself to the role Of an onlooker.
gh… why is the rum gone?’ Sappho lay resignedly across the bottom of her small rowing boat, staring at the empty bottle she was holding close to her body. ‘While I must say I do hate to drink this foul drink,’ she mused, ‘it has certainly served its purpose well… until now. I would never have set off on such a perilous journey as sailing across the stormy seas of Labrynna with such a meagre supply, or in such a vessel as this!’
Throwing her arms over the side of the boat, she started to scoop up seawater with the bottle absentmindedly. Her pink robes, nor designed for seafaring, were completely soaked and clung to her skin almost uncomfortably. She sighed, delicately tearing off the last mouthfuls of bread that she had left, before returning to her previous state of resignation as she lay back down on the wooden floor while the rain continued its relentless pounding on her body and boat.
And then it hit. A towering wave that dwarfed her boat absolutely. Seagulls flying over the surface of the sea were tossed from their flight paths like waste paper, specks of white among the relentless grey, as they struggled to keep aloft. Her boat was swept from its intended direction, the waters pushing it over and under the waves, until at last it hit an obstacle and ruptured. Grasping for hand or footholds on the murky structure that she had just hurtled towards, she managed to grab onto the wooden hull while hooking her arm round her parasol to avoid it being lost to the waves. She hauled herself up onto the deck, brushing away wet strand of hair that clung to her forehead, only to be met by a less than friendly sight of sharp spears being pointed towards her.
‘This is hardly what I was expecting to happen on my excursion across the Sea of Storms. First, my supply of drink runs out halfway into a fierce storm, then my sailing vessel is broken to pieces by this accursed sea, and finally, I end up on a hostile ship while some sour-faced Zora soldiers point their weapons at me!’ At this, she flicked the point of one of the spears, startling the guard holding it. ‘I demand I see your captain! I doubt that they will stand for the maltreatment of a lady such as I!’
Stripped of my pride, my sanity, even my mortality, I have resigned Myself to the role Of an onlooker.
Sappho exudes an aura of mysticism, and most often talks in an incredibly cryptic manner. Whether this way of speaking was a habit picked up through her many journeys across the lands, or a residual trait from her long-gone past that has lingered with her, even if her origin has been forgotten and perhaps even completely lost, swept away by the strong tide of history.
Her words carry an inherent sense of charisma that were once used in her missionary work to convince even the most sceptical, now used to further her goals - she is not against taking action if it will allow her to gain something of value - nay, she could justifiably be said to be quite selfish in how she favours those of use to those who cannot help her.
However, she is usually quite carefree, arisen from her centuries of burden and loss - in order to hide her pain, she has taken to immersing herself in what is happening in the present so as not to think on her past.
She hardly loses her temper, her anger melds with her polite words as a sharper response rather than an outright attack - a reaction like that is reserved only for her most hater enemies. This sharp response is usually followed up by a sarcastic remark, it is not like her to not make a jab or two at the situation she is facing.
She has a strong love for novel items, having garnered a strong sense of curiosity while browsing through the many unique items of the kingdoms she has visited. She is particularly drawn to that which has been created with new techniques, such as ceramic wares formed from pottery, or hydro-powered mills to harness the power of flowing waters. She believes inventions such as these are key to the growth of society, and often goes to bazaars, windmills and the like in order to observe them.
She prefers to stay in smaller company, less inclined to join with greater meetings with people. However, despite her discomfort in large gatherings, she loves to visit festivities and such, as well as meeting acquaintances and friends.
LIKES
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Tea - one of her greatest pleasures, she often takes long breaks spontaneously in which she will merely stop and drink a cup of tea.
Grooming - she is very careful with dealing how to she keeps her hair, to ensure it stays in its signature straight pattern and keeps its golden sheen.
Good Deeds - having inspired the story of the woman with the golden hair who grants gifts to those who do good deeds in her presence, she blesses those who are kind to one another.
DISLIKES
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Rain Storms - as she spends much of her time travelling round the various kingdoms in foot, she finds showers of rain to merely be a distraction which delay her from journeying onwards.
Hurrying - she prefers to take everything at her own pace, rather than be pushed into anything.
Bad Deeds - having inspired the story of the woman who deals penalty on those who do bad deeds in her presence, she punishes those who are loathsome in work.
MOTIVATIONS
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It is largely unknown to the outside world as to why she continues her long journey. Some say it is to mete out punishment on the heretics who have forgotten the laws of the Golden Goddesses, as the old stories say. Others say she is a lost soul left to wander the world due to some curse. Whatever people may say, it is still unknown to the, as to why she journeys round the world, observing the goings on of others.
FEARS
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Corruption - her greatest fear is that one day the traits of kindness in people will eventually be corrupted, and all of her faith in humanity will be swept away, which would trigger her own descent from sanity, for it is all that keeps her from madness. An immortal such as her lives for the quirks of humanity as it reminds her that she is not some completely different being, some monster.
Ignorance - she fears that too often, in the current age, people are being led on by others be sheer nescience of situation, be it willingly or unwillingly. This refers to the false kings and usurpers who use facades to charm the public, to the unjust views towards the previous queen, and extends all the way to the blind trust people put in the Golden Goddesses.
Impotency - she hates the thought that, when it comes down to it, she cannot do much to actually prevent everything she fears will happen, from happening.
HISTORY
Several tales in the repertoire of the Isle’s literature tell of a beautiful woman with flowing golden locks, each dating to vastly different times in history. Stories of how she looked over the corpse strewn battlefields of the Hyrulean civil war, watched the cunning thief-king be seized and brutally executed, journeyed under the veil of Twilight that was brought across the land, and observed the saddening imprisonment of the hero, these have all permeated the kingdoms’ libraries and inspired the creative minds of many. But her story is so much more than the fiction that it is recorded as, with it all beginning a long time before any of the events told of in these written tales.
Once, there was a young priestess named Sappho who was devout in her faith and prayed to the Goddesses of yore as was her duty, her devout faith was fostered in the private chapel of the royal family of Hyrule where she served as priestess. In times of need, her role extended to a mediator in conflict and nurse of the unhealthy, and greater still she partook in the spreading of the faith across the land, successfully converting many sceptics through her charisma, believing it to be the only way to save the unenlightened people from being condemned for eternity.
Her profession took her all over the Isles, across the current kingdoms and independent realms that lay within its bounds, culminating in a decision to head to the scorching hot sands of the Gerudo desert, having heard of their worshipping the Goddess of the Sands, in order to find out more about them and their practices.
A sceptic of Sappho’s intentions, Nynaeve challenged her reasonings for coming to the desert, Sappho swearing it was all personal interest, and not to do with her kingdom or profession, but the Gerudo chieftain did not believe in her:
‘You come preaching the word of goddesses that abandoned us all? So be it. Preach for eternity!’
These were the last words that she heard before a billowing cloak of darkness filled her entire being and her insides burned with the strength of hellfire, the tremendous force forcing her into unconsciousness.
When she finally woke up, she find out that she had been passed out for quite some time, and that her body’s conditions had not been faring as usual. And quite right, her parameters and conditions had stayed completely the same in her comatose state, unnaturally so. For she had been the subject of a cruel curse that would bring eternal torment - she had been condemned to a life of immortality. Unable to truly grasp this, Sappho set off to be rid of this misdeed to her and left the place she had once called home.
And so her journey began, a long one that spanned several eras, as her loved ones slowly faded into the narrative of history, each generation only serving to increase her misery, to deepen her hatred, to consolidate her views. The ages went by her story turned to legend, as she saw events that would become legend in turn, as many pointless tragedies occurred, and an endless cycle continue to turn. There was only one true villain here. It was not Nynaeve who cursed her to a life of eternal solitude, but the Goddesses who had blundered over the centuries and caused so much malice to be harboured in the hearts of the people.
APPEARANCE
Regardless of her true age, Sappho looks youthful and beautiful. She is described as having crystal-white skin that compliments her shining golden hair, comparing her appearance to that of a gem sold in a marketplace. Her eyes are even more striking, being a deep amber colour, with a strange purple colour rolling about behind.
The most striking characteristic of her appearance is her long blonde hair that is two and a half times her height, which she takes tremendous effort in maintaining. It extends all the way to her ankles, then folds up and goes behind her head through the large silver hairpin, emblazoned with an unknown crest, holds it in place, and returns down to her waist.
As for her clothes, she dresses herself with a pale pink robe, plain and simple, as she believes that it is a sign of humbleness and meekness. She also carries around an ornate cream umbrella with strange characters decorating its surface, mostly to keep away the common rain shower, but also to serve other purposes.
MAGIC
HEAVEN’S LOCKS: By channeling her magic through her hairpin, she charges her golden hair with a bright light that enables her hair to act independently to perform a single action, such as pick a lock, latch into a target etc. or further be imbued through a spectate chanting process to attain another attribute. VARIANT LIGHT: She is able to construct a holy barrier made of light magic that can withstand a few solid blows before being broken. The main purpose it serves is to ward off any dark creatures as they have a great aversion to the light magic that it is formed from.
WEAPONS
ANTIQUE HAIRPIN: A deceptively simple-looking item that is always on Sappho’s person to remind her of the many mistakes of her past and the future chances that she will have. She fashioned this hairpin into a magical conduit which allows her to more easily control the finer details of her spells, but she is no stranger to using its sharp point for more sinister purposes.
EXTRAS
NONE
PLAYER ALIAS: Hellson FACE CLAIM: Laura Stewart - A Certain Magical Index REFERENCE: Ad ALTS: Ashur