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Breath of the Wild ~ a Log / CONTENTS [[+Artwork]]

Thursday, March 28, 2019

High Hopes . . . Bogged


Waking of Saturday, December 8, 2018 ~ 2



David asked me later about the shrine in Ludfo’s Bog, and how I had gotten the orbs down.
“I just climbed up and got ‘em,” I said.
He stared at me.
“....What?” I said.
“You climbed up and got them?”
“Well, I mean, it took some doing, but I had enough stamina—and the Climbing Gear!”
And he stared at me like Gonzo stares at an imbecilic Rizzo, and I stared back at him like an oblivious Kreacher who doesn’t see the issue.
And then he shook his head and I kept playing.

Off to Hestu. I had enough Korok seeds. I asked for one last dance and Hestu did his thing and sang his song, his maracas exploding in a giddy burst of blue confetti.... and I obtained the final shield slot.
Now all my equipment pages were full.
“Shakalo!?” he started with a jolt, “You’ve expanded all your inventories!?”
But he recovered himself quickly and resumed his easy swaying stance dance. “Naaaaaaice!” he said, the word flanked by little music notes. XD
NOW what would he do?
“Thanks to you my maracas sound so... shakey-shake SHAKETY!”
Yes? OuO
“There are more children of the forest out there, and I’m sure they’d still love to meet you!”
Or some such words.
....Oh.
I guessed that really was it. Each equipment page now had twenty slots of hammerspace and.... that was it.
I guessed the rest of the Koroks were....
Well what would happen if you got the rest of the Koroks?
....
I might not pursue that in this playthrough.

Well! With my pockets deep as they would ever go it seemed, I ran to see what I could see in another unvisited piece of the world.
I’d seen this one many times in looking over my map of Central Hyrule—it was hard to miss with its contingent of giant ribs sticking out of the earth in unnatural arrangements, the tight cluster of weathered skull-dens, and the giant horned skull that sat atop the crest of the hill.
This was a place my map called the Bottomless Swamp. It was situated on the eastern edge of the central plains, just north of Whistling Hill. But I’d never ventured close to it for the rampant Guardians in the area....
It seemed a Guardian-free approach could possibly be made from the riverbank on the east side. But that direction led up through the forest of battlemented ribs, as well as an overabundance of sprawling, gurgling Pools of Malice. And it was uphill from low ground, no less. No.... I would take the back door.
I could handle the Guardians now.
I ran out into the grass until the Guardian Stalker saw me. It had the higher ground, but I could still time my parries all right.... Maybe due to my experiences outside the Pit Gate, it just made me nervous whenever they had the high ground.... in the grass....
I took the Guardian down, and proceeded to the top of the hill. At the crest, the grass died away and the earth became pale and hard, sinking into a large depression full of bogwater, in the middle of which rested the enormous horned skull. Monsters patrolled around on it, inside and out, except where one massive horn had partially broken off. That ponderous fragment rested alone and low in the muck. Around the edges of the bog, Malice pressed in toward the shore and sloughed heavily away downhill to the east and among the skull-dens clustered into the rock like trophies. By the river, the ribs stood clawlike in a challenging and grotesque barrier. Interspersed with all of this stood tall, jagged rocks that were pocked all over as if they’d been boiled.
Ugh, it was creepy. Malice and bogwater....
I stormed the castle nonetheless, knocking what baddies I could into the muck with my arrows before.... eugh.... paragliding over the bog and landing on the connected horn’s lower tip—for the horns curved back and down and around, like rams’ horns.
The number of silver monsters I was made to endure, Bokoblins and Moblins, was a right pain in my royally beknighted patushka. I knocked them into the bog as often as I could; any gemstones they might have dropped weren’t worth the hassle of beating it out with them over solid ground. Or bone.
After I’d cleared the top, I was blessed to discover a hole in the crown of the skull, via which I could rain terror from above on the inner inhabitants, courtesy of Ja Baij. And as the inner level was not well founded, the blasts were sufficient to knock most of the smaller baddies over the edges and into the sucking, mucky drink. But that big heavy Moblin.... him I just had to sail down and deal with personally.
When every last baddie had been sent back to the Evil Jar, I turned my attentions to the precarious plank of wood bridging a large and dangerous gap in the floor of the inner layer. On the other side, nestled in the cavity of the occipital bun, was a wooden chest.
Huh, wooden....
But appearances weren’t everything. This place was so dreadfully imposing, so heavily guarded, surely there had to be something valuable inside....
I tiptoed my way across the plank, and opened the chest.
It was a hundred rupees.
A cool hundred rupees.
Neat.
Thanks, guys.
I got off the skull island and traipsed around the hillside to the east, skirting the Malice pools and sweeping up what baddies I’d missed. There was a small forest a short way to the north. The forest that spanned from one shore of the river to the other, just near the Wetland Stable. Pikango had said.... there might be a memory in there....
Or, well, rather I had shown Pikango one of the images from Princess Zelda’s pictograph gallery, and he had said the pictograph was probably taken in that forest, though on what side of the river he could not tell.
I knew David had yet to find the memory linked to the pictograph taken in a woods....
But David never stops to chat it up with the locals.
The only problem was.... David and Savannah were in the room with me now, and they wanted to watch a movie.
Huaaugh I killed time in pointless ways, examining boring-looking hills for Koroks, running back to climb a stone tower.... The forest was so close.... I wanted to explore it for the memory, but.... I didn’t want to let on to David what I was doing.... Plus with he and Savannah together in the room.... That was an as yet unknown variable, and I didn’t want to risk any buzzkill at all, especially with a memory cinematic on the line....
Eugh and there was that tense bit in the conversation; David kept pestering me to wrap it up and get off already.... but I kept pressing that I wanted to explore.... How did it lead up to what he said....?
“What is there a memory in there or something?” His voice was still chiding, not serious, but crap.
“I didn’t say that—” Wrong thing to say. “—I’ve been trying to find Koroks....” Or some such lame excuse when I’d ONLY JUST already maxed out my carrying capacity....
I ran around the riverside green like a distractible puppy—typical enough behavior in and of itself whenever I was running out of juice on playtime.... Did it throw him off the scent?
He pressed me further. They wanted to watch a movie.
Okay, okay,” I said at length when I could think of nothing else to do.
I relented, and went to Pepp’s—it was 9:00 in the morning, game time—and slept until noon.
Good night.

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