Waking of Saturday, November 3, 2018 ~ 4
I went back to the Serenne Stable!
I was gonna go north!
AND I DID!
I took the road to the northeast
and ran! Beyond Mount Drena, the Blue Marker Mountain from long ago! Past the place where I had met that nice
lady merchant with her donkey! Past
the spot where I saw my first Tabantha Moose!
The road bent around the head of
the canyon of the Forgotten Temple, curving back to the west, and the mercury plummeted. The trees became stark and
sparsely-leaved. More moose and rhinoceroses
started appearing! And it was a surprisingly short jog until I came of a sudden....
upon the Snowfield Stable!
I quickly locked down the
neighboring Rin Oyaa Shrine—Cool!—before visiting with the locals. What in the world were people even doing out here in the icy nothing?
Harlow spoke of swords—They were
cool, he said, but he asserted that a sword didn’t make a hero.
But Danton talked about the Sword of Legend.... now that was a cool sword.
“This sword here?” I showed it.
“That’s the sword of legend?”
Danton said, “It’s slimmer than I imagined. I thought it’d be as big as me!
With, like... jewels everywhere.”
And I legitimately wondered whether
one of the writers must have based that exchange on an actual recounted history
of some semi-knowledgeable non-fan getting his first glimpse of The Legend of
Zelda’s fabled Master Sword.... XD
Danton was grateful anyway. “I’ll
never forget this day!” he said. Aw, he had such a nice smile and a genuine
face. :)
I went inside the stable, where the
temperature did not improve—gosh this
place was just cold all over—and one Juannelle told me about a.... STALHORSE?
WHAT ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
She wanted a picture. ಠ_ಠ Or
some notes. What in the ACtual crap.
And she told me where to find it.
Oh I needed this region’s tower....
I could see the tower further to
the southwest, up on some low, dark crumble of snow-covered rock. It looked
easy enough to get to....
I
KEPT GOING.
I clambered up into the rocky hills
with the tower looming closer and closer above me—they were rarer now—until I came to a place where the road forked
off to the left.
Huh?
There seemed to be some kind of habitation over there.... nestled against the
mountain....
I went to investigate.
This place was called Pondo’s Lodge. It was homey, and comfy.
And the sole resident Pondo for whom it was named must have been someone’s father. Because only dads can crack out
that many bad puns in such rapid succession.
It was amazing.
Near Pondo’s home was a little
sunken dell, the far end of which held a smattering of peacefully leafless
winter trees, cozy in the grey. The near
end of the dell.... Pondo had transformed into something else.
A long, heaping ramp of snow (or earth
covered with such) led from Pondo’s stead all the way down to the floor of the
dell, where it transitioned smoothly into a large, circular mound with a flat
top. And on this platform was where Pondo liked to set up his gigantic,
moose-headed, totem pole pins with
which to go.... Snowling.
I paid that man so many rupees. You
got three big snowballs per game, but that
ramp was so bumpy! It was difficult to anticipate how the snowballs would
bounce or what little bumps might dump them over the side edge completely. My
snowballs—though they grew encouragingly in size on the way down—kept veering
off to the right....
But eventually, I got a strike! And
Pondo gave me a prize for my efforts, rupees again, I think.... I can’t
remember....
That
guy.... so punny....
I thought about stopping there for
the night. It was an inviting, comfy, warm and friendly place.... And the hour was getting so late, and I was
tired.... And I loved all his moose-decor....
BUT
THE TOWER WAS RIGHT THERE....
I kept climbing.
There were no great enemies about
on guard, but the base of the tower—the Hebra
Tower—was surrounded by a bristling ring of ice. And as the ground was so uneven, it was a little difficult to
lay a fire. But eventually I found a spot of ground level enough to set down
some wood and flint and set it alight without it rolling or sliding away.
It.... exercises your patience, the ice does. Unless you want
to blow a ton of Fire Arrows all at once. But I just waited for my fire to melt
the ice chunks until a big enough hole opened up for me to reach the tower.
The climb to the top was blissfully
uneventful. And as I studied the new map data, I saw that.... THERE WAS ANOTHER
LABYRINTH HERE. HEE.
My eyes roved over all the cool new
places to explore, until eventually I paraglided back to the stable. I thought
to save it then, it was getting so late, but....
Stalhorse....
It was night.
I went to look for it.
Juannelle had said it was to the
north.... I set out across the stark and naked snowscape, only pulling up when
I saw a Lynel in the distance. I
didn’t want to get too close.
I searched up and down the north
end of the plain, but couldn’t find any trace of a stalhorse. No, but hadn’t she said it would be near
some ruins?
The labyrinth!
But.... those freaking Lynels in the way!
The night was burning fast. In
desperation I ran up onto the bordering mountain to skirt the eastern Lynel
before the morning came. And paragliding back down through the everpresent fog
and mist, I caught sight of some movement on the road to the towering
labyrinth....
I came closer and FOUND IT OH MY
GOSH. I snapped a pictograph. A Stalkoblin was riding a Stalhorse!
....
I WANTED IT!
I dashed in, dispatched a loitering
Lizalfos, killed the Bokoblin rider, and.... approached the skeletal equine....
It had glowing eyes and the rags of ancient trappings. Its tail was scraggly,
and it had no mane.
I mounted it, and it uttered the
rippling, gurgling ghost of a whinny as I tried to soothe it.... And what was
more my surprise and my dread.... it calmed down and I sat still upon it. .__.
It
was nearly morning! I wanted to take it back to the stable—could I make it?
I turned it about, and we got on
the road, and I spurred it forward, but it bucked
me off—had I spurred it too
forcefully?—reared in
throat-tearing agony, and DIED as the sun rose. Its bones separated and
crumbled and turned black and disintegrated in the rising light, and it was
gone.
....
Man.
....
I warped back to the stable—still
didn’t want to deal with that Lynel—and Juannelle gave me like a hundred rupees
or something for the picture.
That was enough for today. I was
savin’ and goin’ to bed. It was late.
And all my two hours of sleep were
full of Lynels in the snow.
