Spirit Orb Shenanigans

Waking of Saturday, July 28, 2018

Spirit Orb Shenanigans

I warped from Zora’s Domain to Gerudo Town, grabbed a sand seal and headed out southwest. I still needed Molduga fins for the next upgrade to my Sand Boots.

The heat was still an issue, even with my Sapphire Circlet and Gerudo Outfit. Outside of the solace of night and dawn and dusk, at the height of the day I could only cling to the thin shadows wrapping below tall rocks. ....Rather like the time we spent at Needles Outlook. It was so hot.... but having the place to ourselves for an hour was exquisitely adventurous.

Though the high sun was still intolerable, this time the Molduga didn’t take me that long—not when I knew how to draw it out, and not when I employed my Most Terrible Lynel Bow, which spat three arrows of thirty-two attack points each for ninety-six damage at every shot. And that if I had only used normal arrows. No, it was Bomb Arrows this time, as it should be every time, and the Molduga was such a large target that the only shots I missed were during its recovery-burrowing animation.

I brought it down in one pass.

Excellent.

I also picked up more Rushrooms and one more diamond from Ledo, and then it was off to Cotera to have her do up some of my clothes. Got my Sand Boots to a more respectable level of defense. Since I’d be going out into the desert and all....

I also saw I had three spirit orbs. Just one more shrine and I could add another heart or a slice of stamina.... So I went to where I’d always suspected there might be a shrine: from the Hateno Tower I paraglided toward a certain stretch of the Hateno Road—checking out Oakle’s Navel for the first time along the way—there was a Korok down there—

I headed toward that little grotto on the north side of the road. Kind of a big grotto actually. I had heard my shrine-locator go off near there before, back before I had the wherewithal to climb the surrounding cliffs.... But my locator had seemed to indicate something up on that shelf opposite the Cliffs of Quince, or maybe a little beyond.

With a little persistence and my Climber’s Bandana I got up on top, and was promptly led by my locator in dizzying circles around a small lakespring, which poured into a long valley just to the north.

I had regarded this valley many times on my map, but had never visited it. It had seemed isolated at first, but upon closer inspection I could see there were ways to access it—ways whose entries I had brushed against many times.

But I did not want to be tempted by it now. I was pretty sure I saw David exploring it one time and.... there were things going on that I heard, but didn’t let myself see, except in the murky reflection off the microwave door. What was I eating that day....?

At any rate I was leery of the valley. First of all it was raining, and any elevation losses would be difficult to regain. And secondly, I had to head into the desert; I didn’t want to get too distracted or trigger anything momentous in this new environ....

In truth.... I suspected Naydra might make a pass.

However, the brreep-brreep I was hearing now sounded like the shrine might be under the little lake, and like I might not be able to access it unless I descended into the long water-valley.

There were an awful lot of ruins down there.... I got as close as I could to the edge first on one side of the waterfall, then on the other.... On the east side I dropped down by small degrees onto ancient mossy stonework shelves, peering down at lonely Lizalfos stretching in and out of camouflage—and there. There on the west side of the waterfall was a hole cut into the rock. It was well off the valley floor. Er, valley-bottom. (It seemed to be all water down there.)

I paraglided down and in. Brreep-brreep! The tunnel was long, but at the end.... stood the Dow Na’eh Shrine. Cool.

The cavern happened to have a second opening, right onto the back of the waterfall. I dove in with my Zora Armor for a quick ascent back up to the mountain shelf....

That made four Spirit Orbs all right, but when I was back on the Hateno Road, I considered.... I was much better equipped than I had been before.... What was up with that grotto anyway? Maybe I could solve it now. A long time ago I’d thought the shrine I heard on my locator would appear in that grotto....

But hidden shrines didn’t work like that.

Doctor Calip was there, studying the hordes of little statues standing in the ground like an army in prayer. Doctor Calip from that friendly house back in the woods near Fort Hateno. I’d slept there once....

I’m not sure if I knew it before, but I gathered now that he frequented this place. I spoke to him. It’d been a long time. And he repeated the strange riddle to me, the one he was trying to puzzle out himself: “When a dark light resides in the cursed statue’s eyes, pierce its gaze to release the seal on the shrine” or some such words.

Was the statue one of this bunch of little ones?

When I asked him about it further he said he reckoned it was some terrible variety of doll that could influence people’s behavior.

What like a voodoo doll? .__.

Sounded freaky....

When it started getting dark, Doctor Calip high-tailed it out of there—monsters came out after nightfall, he reminded me.

I had made Doctor Calip’s riddle my active quest, and I watched him leave by the pulsing yellow light on my HUD. I looked up and could see his person jogging away in the distance, about to round the bend—the yellow light had barely moved—and I marveled at the scale of the map. <3

The fall of night in earnest was still a good way off, but.... I decided to hang around anyway. Would any monsters bother me in here? Mmmm maybe. But maybe there would also be some kind of clue the night might reveal.... or maybe it only happened on Blood Moons. A voodoo doll? My hopes weren’t that high. I ran around collecting plants and passing a Korok I had found.... was there anything I had skipped over before? I jumped off low blocks of old ruins, waiting for the sun to sink....

Wheee.

Then uh—

Looking back. Into the grotto. For I had jogged over near its mouth. Oh gosh what—

The little army of statues stood clustered and shrouded in the dimness. But it looked like.... did that one there.... But it was a good stone’s throw away—maybe it was just a trick of my vision—I scoped in—

NO THAT ONE STATUE’S EYES WERE DEFINITELY GLOWING. THEY GLOWED PURPLE. WHAT.

“David look!” I strained in tight unmoving terror.

Oh my gosh it looked so freaky....

So I snapped a pictograph.

The statue didn’t do anything as I came back toward it.

Its eyes just glowed purple. What unholy....

I swung at it with my farmer’s hoe. But I couldn’t hit it that way.

So I tried shooting an arrow into it.

That destroyed the statue.

And up rumbled the shrine out of the earth, right in that bare patch of ground I had always thought would look just dandy with a shrine in it....

The Kam Urog Shrine.

Inside was the biggest hamster wheel I had ever seen. With giant, free-rolling morningstars in it.

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME,” I said.

But I did it.

And it was awesome.

That Patience Which Holds Motionless for Endless Hours the Spider in its Web

Waking of Friday, January 19, 2018 ~ 8

That Patience Which Holds Motionless for Endless Hours the Spider in its Web

In the dark of the night I sailed out west behind my rented sand seal, skirting giant bones and Lizalfos habitations.

My trajectory was vague at best and I had no idea what I was looking for—what did Moldugas look like?

Were they gigantic and woolly? Did they walk on their knuckles? Did they have tusks? Would I know one when I saw it?

As it turned out I did—I knew it before I saw it.

The music gave it away.

Like the Talus and its pounding percussion, the Hinox and its fatshnazzy brass band—the Molduga’s name and life-meter appeared at the top of the screen, accompanied by an insistent, repetitive, Phrygian ambush of cellos, arpeggiating sans the third beneath a dancing tambourine pacesetter as if it had been a race!

I banked hard in a panic—the arc was too wide and slow—and charged back the way I had come—!

And the music did not follow me.

I try to be a good steward; I did not want to bring the sand seal to any harm, especially as it was not my own.

But I think it would be a lie to say I was not also fleeing to save my own skin.

Once I was sure I had put a sufficient distance between myself and the monster, I stopped, and had a look back.

The Molduga was somewhere in among those stones, I was sure of it: Great, gargantuan juts of sandstone pushing up out of the earth like enormous toadstools. —And there was movement.

I scoped in.

As the day began to dawn I could see: Something large was.... swimming beneath the surface of the sand, casting up a wake. Burrowing. I could see the hump of earth rolling along, indicating where it was.... but what did the thing itself actually look—

It breached the surface. Whale. Crocodile. Jaws. Teeth. Spoonbill. Little arms waggling. Manatee tail. Thrash. Twist. Snap. Huge—HUGE—

And it was down burrowing again.

Oh my Hylia that thing was—how could I—so big—could it sense me even here?

I watched it. A long, long time I watched it; and it did not stray beyond the confines of its great stone toadstool ring, but only cycled around within it.

It must have been moving so fast and yet.... every circuit took.... what seemed like several minutes. With a few breaches along the way.

So big.

Was the Compendium lying, when it said the Hinox was the largest monster to call Hyrule home?

Or was this not a part of Hyrule after all?

I eased my sand seal toward it again, timing our pace to arrive at one of the gigantic rounded rocks just as the monster was on the far side of its circuit from us.

The cellos were nowhere to be heard.

I left the sand seal near the stone, on the outside of the ring. Removed enough to be out of harm’s way, but close enough to be called at short notice.

I meanwhile climbed up on top of the squat rock formation, and watched.... and waited.

I dared not move a muscle as the Molduga came pummeling back round the circle, clockwise, coming in hard from the right.

It would pass near me soon; I would have an opportunity to strike. And given the enormity of the circuit, I could see just how sparse and precious that opportunity would be. No time for test shots here—it would be imprudent to attempt anything less than maximum damage.

I selected the strongest Lynel Bow I had, nocked a Bomb Arrow, and prepared to demand the attention of a carnivore one hundred times my size....

And with perfect timing the Molduga flew up out of the sand before my eyes, blue-grey-green and enormous, huge jaws snapping, tiny limbs flapping pointless, and I took my best guess at distance, at arcing, at my quarry’s momentum, and let fly—

I wonder how much was skill at this point, and how much was luck.

At least in part, the tripled Bomb Arrow connected! and the huge whale of a creature slammed onto the surface of the sand and lay there heaving in its blubbery vastness.

My gosh I couldn’t believe it! A direct hit on the first go! Great shot! ^_^ And I looked at its life-meter.... It had gone down a bit! Maybe not an overly substantial amount, but—

What was I doing it was immobile I could hit it again—

In the folly of my hesitation I got off only another shot or two before the Mulduga regained itself and burrowed back into the sand, safe and untouchable once more.

And off it went around the circuit.

And the music went with it.

The day became lighter and I was alone. On a few of the other sandstone towers to my right and left and into the distance, little camps of monsters could be seen. On the central hub, a large, wide stone like my own but on a greater scale, seemed to be the biggest party of them all, with a fire, a few storage crates, and no small supply of boomers. On the sands in between, camouflaged Lizalfos crouched still as statues.

The Molduga breached away in its course.

The timing was off—it did not breach in the same places on every revolution. It wouldn’t breach directly in front of me again for . . . . I didn’t know how many cycles.

Landing those hits really had been fortuitous.

But how long was this going to take?

I waited for it to pass by me again, and the arcing sun grew stronger.... I watched my thermometer tip further and further toward the red until it was too hot for me to stay where I was. My clothes could not protect me. I didn’t want to guzzle elixirs, not that I had that many. What could I—

Hm.

The Molduga was far away. I stepped forward and dropped onto the sand on the inside of the ring, landing in the shade.

There was something about letting myself down into the territory, the element, of my enemy that felt.... unnerving at best.

But at least I was protected here.

Well . . . . protected from the sun.

I didn’t like that Lizalfos half a stone’s cast away from me, though. I took the time to dispatch it before returning to the little strip of shade beneath the brim of the toadstool rock, where once again.... I waited.

And waited.

The Molduga slowly arced back around, breaching, as I had anticipated, well out of range of my arrows. How many circuits would it have to make before it would breach where I could reach it again?

I considered. I could try for the central stone hub....

But there were so many baddies there; it could take a moment too long to do away with them all—the Molduga might very well detect the ruckus, and then what? Or would it just as soon detect me making a break for that spot in the first place? To say nothing of what to do with all the Lizalfos in between....

The Molduga’s senses were sharp; I had stepped and jumped around in investigating this, when I was still on top of the rock, and my movements had caught its attention over impressive distances. And every time, I had stopped and ducked before the question mark could develop into anything further, stilling in time to let the monster be on its way. But I dared not shift my footing again down on the sand.

The day passed.

My sliver of shade narrowed. But the cool of the evening returned before it disappeared completely.

I had long since plucked what scanty plants there were in the vicinity. A Rushroom. Some Safflina.

The monster arced around.

Some breaches were nearer, some I could hit, away at the edge of my range, where as many arrows missed as hit their mark. Maybe more. Couldn’t risk a direct hit with something uselessly weak.

And the Molduga’s life-meter would drop by a small degree.

Chip by chip, piece by piece.

By and by the thought came to me, as I employed my projectile weaponry.... The Molduga responds to the faintest vibrations.... I can’t move when it’s near.... But perhaps.... my BOW.

The Molduga came round again. Its breaches would be far out of reach I could see.

But before it came even with me, I nocked a normal arrow into a weak, wooden Bokoblin bow, and fired off into the sand before its path.

The dread question mark appeared again, and this time—the monster breached where the arrow had struck!

I scrambled to switch out my equipment for something stronger again! Lynel Bow! Bomb Arrows! Fire! FIRE!

I could induce a breach from the beast.

I cut down its life-meter by a much more gratifying portion before it was able to escape again.... though my bow-work was become a bit sloppy in my excitement. I knew Bomb Arrows didn’t come cheap, but by this point I would rather have lost arrows than lost time spent refining my aim. Enough had connected that I was sufficed.

And I waited for the beast’s return.

And waited.

And waited.

Round and again the great Molduga came, and I lured it up each time, unmoving in my pocket of shade, in my refuge from the chill, and cast arrow after arrow after arrow.

Quivers ran dry. Bows broke. It was becoming increasingly expensive....

But the desert was not unfeeling toward my plight.

Once as I stood through the long and lonely night, watching and waiting as the stars winked overhead and the Molduga thrashed soundlessly in the far distance, something glimmered over the sand out in front of me.

There was a kind of twinkling, a little way off, but it vanished almost at once. And then it came again, in a different spot—and disappeared once more. Pulsing like a satellite. What in the world....?

Another sparkle, and I could see faint dark movement against the bluebeige of the moonwashed sand. Something was making that light.

And it was coming closer.

And then I recognized the glittering—that was an item I could grab!

But.... moving? Smooth as a shark-fin—was it a lizard?

And as it came nearer, listing away to my right, I saw it clearly: The kindly desert breeze had found one of my stray arrows, and blown it back toward me, rolling it over the dunes.

I ran to collect it as it blew against a far section of my rock, and then trudged back to the place where I had chosen to wait.

The sand—it slows you down.

It was in the nighttime that the mighty Molduga finally succumbed to my Assault of a Thousand Arrows, writhing in the air on the last hit with an almighty bellow before crashing to the ground in an ignominious explosion of wasted darkness.

I was running straight away—already the fickle wind was beginning to toy with the leftover parts and blow them about.... I picked up so many fins, AND . . . . the guts!

Got it! Molduga Guts! HAHHH, that was a HARD-EARNED PRIZE.

And there were yet a few lingering Lizalfos from whose claws I had to pry it.

After this I was not waiting for the next Blood Moon—I stormed and looted the central hub for all that it was worth. And I realized that while I had been hunting the Molduga, some of my incendiary arrows must have ignited a few of the boomers strewed about the sand. For there was a great swath of them missing where I had made my attacks.

Inadvertently handy!

I rejoiced in my spoils, I felt mighty in my accomplishment, but after days and nights in the wilderness of the Wasteland.... the time really did feel ripe to head back.

I trudged back toward my squat little hunting rock to harness up my sand seal once more.

It was gone.

The Lynels' Corridor

Waking of Saturday, June 10, 2017

The Lynels’ Corridor

Well, what started out as a plan to go get hornshards from Farosh.... ended up as a wandering exploration of the Faron region.... disguised as a giant Korok hunt. I climbed all over the hills above Malanya’s spring, meandered around the seashore, found some more Guardians—I’ve been marking them on my map. It’s creepy when the normal, healthy ones with working legs just sit there.... unmoving.... like enormous spiders....

My wanderings brought me westward, through a great mess of mounted bokoblins, and toward a place David had said he’d really liked. On the west side of Faron were some grasslands running north to south between a green ridge on the east side and some bare beige tiered mountains on the west side, part of the Gerudo Highlands I think. Maybe.

These grasslands had a name, but I do not remember it.

I simply called it.... The Lynels’ Corridor.

For there were two of them in there.

I started at the south end, and stayed on the east side, atop the green ridge. The first Lynel I saw I tried casting bombs at, but he soon got wise to my presence—over such a distance—and started shooting Shock Arrows back at me. At first they sailed over my head and away into the countryside, but then.... mm he must have pulled some different tactic.... lightning came bolting out of the sky....

I ran away—remembering to go back and grab the Korok Leaf I’d dropped when I got zapped!—until he finally lost interest.

Further north along the Corridor, there was another Lynel.

For this one, I situated myself on a little shelf of rock where I could not be seen from the valley floor—and commenced another game of Bomb-Golf.

It took some doing I tell you what but after a great many bombs over a few days and nights—I had slain the northern Lynel.

Evening was coming on, and lest there was a Blood Moon coming I paraglided down and quickly scooped up his remains—a Lynel hoof, a Lynel horn, a Lynel Spear, a Lynel BOW. Among other things I’m sure.

Craving the high ground once again, I climbed round a single tall butte and up into the stony Gerudo Highlands on the west side this time. I didn’t fancy being on the valley floor if there were any more Lynels about.

I thought to go farther north to continue my bird’s eye sweep of the Corridor, but there was a Guardian in the way. It was on a lower shelf of the mountains than where I was, but I didn’t care for the lively patrol it kept of that area.

So I climbed up to the next shelf, looking for a bypass....

As it turned out there were quite a few things in the way up here! More Guardians—thank you, pictobox feature—wolves, electric keese....

Just too many hassles that I didn’t want to bother with. And so every time I encountered one.... I just kept climbing up to the next shelf.

I came to one place where a Decayed Guardian sat in a wide, bare expanse of sandy stone, and at something of a risk to my general wellbeing I paraglided onto a nearby overhang to flush up a Korok. (There were a few Koroks up here, too.)

And as I stood on that tall, tall outcropping of stone, I looked into the low clouds on the other side of these Highlands, to the west.... and I saw it.

It was an island—and it was moving.

Strange movements. Rotational and sharp, as if it were timed for something, as if you had to paraglide from those crags to the north to get onto it properly. What in....?

It turned, machine-like, swiveling under the single pine tree at its crest—no there were two islands, one had been behind—

No.... not islands....

“That’s a Divine Beast,” I said, eyes wide in awe.

No one was in the room with me.

Two great humps with strange spires on top of them, the curving neck with the weird head....

That was a Divine Beast.

I remembered the name Vah Naboris from Impa’s tale. Was this that beast? It sounded like Nabooru, a Gerudo name.... and this seemed to be Gerudo territory.... though admittedly I hadn’t seen any Gerudo since Karsh, long, long ago at the rainy Woodland Stable.

And that one in my memory at the Sacred Ground.

I was curious about the northern part of that Corridor, but.... with so many Guardians and other things in the way.... the route I was on wasn’t exactly ideal.

I headed south again.

And of course there in my way again were—

“Wolves,” I growled, “we don’t need their scum.” XD

I climbed up to the next shelf and kept heading south, getting quite far this time.... back down south along the Corridor....

I had seen a pillar of black smoke somewhere down there, on a high ledge near the southern mouth of the Corridor. I may even have seen it from as far away as the Highland Stable and the Ka’o Makagh Shrine. In my experience, black smoke meant bad guys. White smoke meant good guys I think. But all smoke.... had a kind of interesting draw to it.... Agh, like a moth to a flame, I just wanna see what’s going on!

I could see the smoke ahead of me now, south along the shelves of the Highlands. It had come in and out of view, disappearing and reappearing.... But now as I was higher up about its level, I kind of wanted to go find its source.

Before I got there however, I came across a huge saddle in the mountain: a vast, bare stretch of grit and gravel cut east to west through the Highlands like the devil’s own highway. It looked.... somehow contrived. Not natural. In my mind’s eye I could see the massive Vah Naboris treading along it....

My but I wondered what could be that way.... the bending of the ground brought the tempting horizon much too close....

Hmmm but I was getting tired. I really felt like I should just find a shrine and stop or something; it was my bedtime.

I marked the Devil’s Own Highway with a little line of stars on my map (it was in an empty blue region I had not yet downloaded into my Slate), and turned back to the east. There below me was the southern mouth of the Lynel’s Corridor. I could just jog on across it and back to the green ridge on the east side, and then go north. Maybe I’d finally reach the northern end....

When 說曹操曹操到！ My shrine-locator started beeping.

And there was the smokestack! Right there! Just a few shelves downhill.

Hmm, seemed like the shrine signal and the smoke were coming from near the same spot! How interesting....

As I approached—scaring up two Koroks very close by—I could see a lot of messy piles of bones and things around the Shrine.... looked like a bad guy camp. But I couldn’t see any Bokoblins around....

I climbed up over the rock, dropped down into a little shallow bit where most of the garbage was, and found.... a woman, brandishing a ladle at a giant hunk of gourmet meat in a wok over a fire.

It was black.

“Who are you?” she said.

“Who are YOU?” I replied.

Her name was Moza, and for the sake of becoming a better cook, she was training in isolation.

“Your smoke signal?” I asked.

“Smoke signal?” she said, puzzled, “Oh you mean the dish I’m making?” or something like that.

“It’s burning,” I said, “Badly.”

And that ruffed her feathers all right.

She taught me some.... recipes of her own design. Lavish Meat Dish: meat and ore. Ancient Meat Dish: meat and ancient parts. Ultimate Survival Dish: straight up monster parts.

“That sounds gross,” I said.

“HEY!” she yelled back at me, “If you want to be an ultimate survivor then you’ve got to be willing to eat anything!”

I don’t think.... there was any helping her.

I left her to it.

And approached the shrine. The surrounding garbage piles were.... multitudinous. Flies buzzed loudly and nastily. Ugh. What a horrible place for a shrine.

The Ishto Soh Shrine – Bravery’s Grasp the trial inside was called.

I still have no idea what to do with that moving platform on the floor.

Somehow I made it up those stairs and to the monk.

Oh I would dearly love to see David attempt that one....

Might just do it again. To save my bow.