High Hopes . . . Bogged

Waking of Saturday, December 8, 2018 ~ 2

High Hopes . . . Bogged

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.

Wasted in the Wasteland

Waking of Saturday, October 28, 2017 ~ 8

Wasted in the Wasteland

It didn’t look as if.... sleep was going to be a big option for me tonight.

I went for the Sheikah Tower. 熬夜！Aoh yeah!

As soon as I saw this tower, I recognized it from something Joseph had described, long, long ago.

This tower stood in a bog, beside an array of tall stone slabs. Fierce winds prevented approach by paraglider. But a few Magnesable metal boxes littered the shore—I could use those to construct a footpath.

In Magnesising—Magnesing?—the first box, I saw that an additional host of other metal boxes lay beneath the bog’s bubbling surface—it seemed it was deeper than I had realized.... and there were also a few chests hidden down there!

In laying the foundations for a step beside the stone slabs, I accidentally knocked them over, thus creating the domino-ramp that would ultimately give me access to the Sheikah Tower.

Huh.... I’d thought Joseph had used a Bomb.

I guessed a flailing metal box could work, too.

The depth of the pool necessitated some precarious stacking and a great deal of guesswork and patience, but at length I had fashioned five somewhat level stepping-stones across the bog. Then it was a shinny up the fallen slabs, a climb up to the top of the tower, and....

I was rewarded with a map of the Wasteland.

The farthest southwestern reaches populated in my Sheikah Slate.

!

There was a Leviathan skeleton down there.... in a place called Dragon’s Exile.... wow....

And that Satan Canyon that had been full of all the Yiga Archers—that part filled in, that singular little canyon, creeping like an encroaching tentacle into the Gerudo territory map.

And there were all those rock-spires at the canyon’s mouth.... and strange, huge archways of stone.... and giant bones littering the emptiness.... and that circle of Colossi I had seen!

And away to the southeast, there was the Devil’s Own Highway, where I had placed those three star-stamps ages ago! Just above Moza’s cooking disaster, at the mouth of the Lynels’ Corridor....

The area was vast, and looked just full of places and things to explore! Oh I wanted to head for that Dragon....

But.... it was so, so late....

I considered, shouldn’t I just close on the activating of the Sheikah Tower? That was a good achievement to stop on.... I’d have to get ready for church soon....

Then I saw on my map the name Kousok Plateau, and remembered—that guy.... that guy back at the stable, the oily guy, Sesami—hadn’t he said that’s where he had lost his friends?

I could just.... head back toward the stable via that.... plateau and then.... and THEN I could call it quits.

Afraid of the Dark

Waking of Saturday, July 8, 2017 ~ 3

Afraid of the Dark

As I continued around Death Mountain I offhandedly scoped out a few of the mountains in the distance and saw.... my blue marker? But I had left that far northwest of the Elma Knolls!

It seemed I was already north of the volcano.

Well, I had followed Dinraal’s course, and that was the whole reason I had come this way, to track where he went. And I did get a piece of him out of it, too.

I’d wanted to go to find.... that Kilton fellow....

But this place had its sirens, too.

Could I reach my blue marker and pick it up? I didn’t even remember what I had seen out there....

I kept going west, and passed another White Lynel my gosh.... Maybe this was the place Joseph meant when he said he knew where all the Lynels were....

And beyond the Lynel, a single, solitary Korok—the first I had seen in ages—hiding at the top of a dead and blasted tree in a dead and blasted ruin that shone like Eden for the starkness of the encompassing wasteland. Even the puzzle it offered seemed tired. But its presence was refreshing.

A little further and more blessed vegetation began to appear—including what seemed to be an epic treehouse in the distance. But I didn’t want to go play with any bokoblins just now; I was more interested in.... what looked like an enormous, fat black boe.

A strange, large dell was before me. Water filled its bottom and tree branches bloomed from its middle, but—

Everything was obscured by a thick blackness.

Perhaps it would have been less maddening if it were only mist, but—it was so black. The sheer unnaturalness of it made it just . . . . Augh how I wanted to see! The laws of nature demanded that daylight, even moonlight, penetrate those depths and yet . . . .

All remained concealed.

I considered trying to paraglide in, but was glad I didn’t when I came closer and found the water to actually be a bog.

However—I was back on my visible map, now, the Woodland Region, and I could see if I just circled a little bit farther around the dell, there would be a bridge I could use to access the center.

So I found the bridge, crossed it, entered the blackness, and....

A monk named Ketoh Wawai invited me to find the shrine in the middle of the darkness if I could. The Shrouded Shrine. It was a Shrine Quest.

Remembering David’s island off the Hateno coast, not wanting to be trapped, I immediately backtracked and—

Found that I could easily come out on the bridge and back into the light.

I went back in again.

Ketoh Wawai did not address me this time.

Mmmm maybe that was lame of me. It definitely killed the drama, that’s for sure. But.... that’s okay.

I walked on ahead.

It was so dread dark in here. Two lit bird-shaped torches flanked the inner end of the bridge, but beyond that....?

Nothing. Just blackness.

I couldn’t even see my own person.

An unlit torch rested nearby, but.... I had no more room in my inventory. Not caring to enter another which-weapon-do-I-discard fit, I walked ahead using the light of my Great Fireblade, step by step into the darkness.

Barely-discernible shapes loomed in the shadows, punctuated at long whiles by glowing mushrooms or ore. I tried following one boundary, hugging weathered stone and bubbling shore to see where it would lead me, but.... the place was a maze.

In truth I was reminded of Faron Woods, and the crumbled dragon-head statuary I’d seen there, for there seemed to be more of it here. Was this a similar kind of place, or the ruins of one, just.... dedicated to Dinraal instead of Farosh?

There were also more bird-statues standing here and there, unlit, and I realized.

Hahhhh, and I decided I’d better go back and get that torch; it’d be easier.

I don’t remember what I dropped in order to pick the torch up, but the bird-lights were handy. The beak of every one I lit pointed the way to the next one.

Heh, thanks, Zelda. X-) I turned off my HUD just to make it more interesting....

It was a bit alarming when I heard a wolf howl from the darkness—I ran back to the last torch I had lit and readied a sturdier weapon....

My gosh their unseen forms prowling the black just beyond the edge of the fire’s light.... the wicked shine of their hungry eyes.... I couldn’t see them—

There was something primal there. That encounter.

That was a well-conceived encounter.

But it wasn’t what struck me deepest.

What I thought most wondrous and beautiful.... was the Piano.

In the darkness of the shrouded island, like a frightened dog the Piano came at once to heel and repetitively pattered only a tiny spread of notes in my wake. Key of G with the eeriest high pedal points lost in the dark.... it was so dark....

Beautiful, beautiful music befitting the range of my sight.

I’d heard the Hinox snoring now and again as I crept through the black. Maybe that was worse than when I actually came upon it. Waiting for something is always worse than the thing itself.

Then I saw that the orb I had to plant in the pedestal across the way was strung up around the Hinox’s neck.

Dandy.

My tactics were.... varied. It’s one thing to shoot arrows at a Hinox from a high and clear vantage point. It’s another thing entirely to do it on level ground at close quarters in the dark. At least its single, huge eye glowed in the dark. Its movements were still deucedly difficult to lead, though. Retreats were frequent.

I tried scaling a row of columns by the light of an Ice Rod—it worked better than my Fireblade—and shooting arrows from this higher point.

It seemed the Hinox had better eyes than I did, though; it pelted me again and again with huge boulders it scooped from the dirt. Dead on. I couldn’t keep this up....

Ice Rod? No. Stasis? That worked, but I didn’t want to stay too close to the thing....

At length, to the left of the main path, I found a slim crack between two tall pillars that I could fit through, but that the Hinox had no chance of penetrating, which opened right onto the Hinox’s clearing. Excellent.

I lured it in close to this crack and then backed up quick; I didn’t want that thing’s giant mitts coming after me! Roarings and rumblings would ensue from the far side of the thick, thick pillars.... and then the Hinox would finally show its bulbous yellow eye peeping through.... closer, closer, closer.... very close.... and I’d fire.

The pattern worked! And I was safe behind thick stone, keeping arrows tightly nocked and reminding myself irresistibly of an art piece by Katsuya Terada. The Hinox roared and stamped and snarled—what was it doing? I could hear it scratching, grabbing, swinging, smashing—was it ripping trees out of the ground, as my Compendium had said was its wont?

During one such obscured wind-up-and-attack, I even saw its life-meter go down a smidge. Did it accidentally smack itself in the face with a tree?

I could only imagine.

A few more carefully shot arrows, and the Hinox was down. I killed a Hinox in the dark. Oh my gosh. And I collected the orb—and all the Hinox’s goodies—placed it in the pedestal, and the Ketoh Wawai Shrine rumbled out of the earth a short way away.

Kinda wanted to call it the Ketoh Wha-WHY? Shrine.

I received Ketoh Wawai’s Blessing, exited the shrine, watched the game auto-save.... and quit.

The Forest

Waking of Friday, April 14, 2017 ~ 9

The Forest

You know, I really enjoy the little stance dance Link does whenever you leave the controller alone for too long. In Ocarina of Time it was the dirt-removal toe-tapping or the infamous tunic-straightening. I’ve seen him sneeze when he’s cold in Majora’s Mask, or swing some moves with the sword in his hand. He would stretch long and luxuriously in Wind Waker, or just take a rest on his haunches when he was a wolf in Twilight Princess. There are dozens of these idle animations.

But in Breath of the Wild.... he just nods off. XD His eyes glaze over and his mouth starts to sag until his head drops a little too suddenly and he shakes himself out of it with a hilariously surprised look on his face!

Ahh delightful animations in this game....

Well.

I’d seen what I had come to see at this tower.

When day broke with a clear sky, I jumped from the top and paraglided toward the road that led to the woods. That old man at the Woodland Stable had said something about the Lost Woods in the heart of the forest.... I would plunge ahead in a minor exploratory sweep until I ran into something too dangerous to face—which I was sure would inevitably happen—whereupon I could simply warp back to Zora’s Domain, and Upland Zorana. Robbie was waiting.

Maybe Karson would react to that pictograph of Tye and Sorelia....

The trees were thick along the road. I followed it until I came to a narrow pass between two sheer hills. Like a canyon.

The overwhelming sense of caution coursed through my veins and filled my lungs, and the bold exploratory sweep was promptly forgotten.

I chose the hill on the right side; it seemed to offer access to even higher foothills....

But up on its grassy top, between the tree trunks, I saw something I had not seen before: lean grey shapes with tufted tails. Canine. Two, no, three, no there were more of them—

Wolves.

I turned right back around. Perhaps the hill on the left would offer me something better.

It did. It was quite clear. However, it was too far away from the right hilltop for me to spy out what creatures might have been lurking there....

Or snipe them.

Drats.

Well, I had a look around anyway.

This Great Hyrule Forest was.... interesting. It seemed completely misted over with a thick, thick fog. The trees looked dead. And far away in its very heart, one tree stood supremely huge above them all. It looked.... like a giant cherry tree....

So many dead limbs with no leaves growing on them made it seem easier to see in there. And yet.... the tangle of it all seemed dangerous....

Was Hestu in there somewhere?

Ugh, but did I really want to go in there?

Wait, but I’d been planning to, hadn’t I?

And couldn’t I just warp away if anything happened?

Then why couldn’t I make myself move?

I surveyed the surrounding landscape a bit instead; the hill was tall enough to give me some fairly good views. I looked behind me and could see the tower I had scaled, standing amid all the platforms in the little circle of the bog—

WAIT A SECOND.

What I Came For

Waking of Friday, April 14, 2017 ~ 8

What I Came For

I thought I’d heard of a Shiekah Tower like this from Joseph. Something about bogs.... something about the tower being surrounded by giant stones.... something about bombs....

But I don’t think this was that tower.

This tower did indeed have one large grey stone of some kind beside it in the bog. But there was also some strange, large.... dark.... rounding kind of shape high atop its crown. It was difficult to make out from below.

I remembered the Hateno Tower and its briars. Was this another obstacle, only situated at the top instead of crawling along its length? But it looked too thick and solid to be briars. Oh gosh, had bad guys taken it over? Would I have to fight them up there once I scaled it?

I had been so confused as to what was on top of this tower, and I wanted to get rid of it or burn it off it as soon as I could.

But when I came close I understood. And I didn’t think fire was gonna do it.

The large grey stone at the tower’s base and the dark rounding shape at its crown were two halves of a bokoblins’ skull-den—those skull-shaped cave-enclosures they like to hide in. The tower’s eruption from the ground must have cracked this one in two. And now this Sheikah Tower had.... well a very nice lid I guess.

A hat like a big busted eggshell.

Well that was swell.

Wished I could’ve removed it.

Especially once I reached the top—that thick stone casing really obstructed the view. But, no matter. I just had to distill the rune and my map could tell me of the surroundings.... This would tell me the river’s course.

This would tell me about Mei.

I activated the pedestal. The runes dripped down, the teardrop fell into my Sheikah Slate....

According to the map, the river out of the wetlands ran right through Ganon’s backyard. I could even see what must have been the dock Molo had said was situated just north of the castle—the way to get inside, he’d said.

It was all too close.

The castle was right there.

Traveling that way.... I could very well be seeking my own death.

Not now. Not in my present state.

Mei, I’m sorry.... but I have to get to Akkala.

If they don’t find you soon, then I will.... when I’m strong enough to do so.

My map also said there was a Great Hyrule Forest to the north, but.... I couldn’t see it at all from the tower-top. Nor could I see the castle very well. The big dratted stone casing was in the way.

But then I considered.... well....

Did I really want to be visible to the great Calamity, at the top of a glowing blue tower so close to the castle?

Maybe the eggshell cap wasn’t so bad.

I spent a while at the top of the tower; I could still see a great distance over a broad area. I even counted the towers I had already been to; I could see all of them but Hateno. The Dueling Peaks looked like molehills, and the Great Plateau was so far away and tiny....

When the sky was dark again the rain came back—and I started to freeze. I’d been able to see my breath, and my cheeks had had that rosy ice-bitten tint to them, but I hadn’t realized I was that high up.

I put on my Warm Doublet and passed the night beneath the shelter of the tower’s rune stone.

Grace of Life

Waking of Friday, April 14, 2017 ~ 7

Grace of Life

It was dark when I had climbed to one particularly broad thoroughfare, high over the bog. It was comprised of a very worn-down bridge extending between two tall towers. Its planks were sagging here and there; some of them were missing entirely. A few explosive barrels sat scattered along its length.

I had cleaned up my end. At the other end, a great black moblin lay snoozing. I thought about casting bombs, seeing if I could detonate the farthest explosive barrel to take him out, but.... who knew if just one barrel would do the job? Did I really want to risk duking it out with a groggy moblin way up on this bridge?

....

Okay the Groggy Moblin needs to be a restaurant now.

BESIDES, if I made such a ruckus, other baddies might wake up as well; I didn’t want to have half the camp after me. And anyway the planks in the bridge were so skewed a bomb might not even be able to hit its mark.

But there were alternative courses of action....

I stepped out onto the planks. No need to make a mess.

I crept forward, sinking into a crouch as I drew nearer the slumbering brute. One sneak-strike would do it....

My father would have called it “a lack of situational awareness”.

A flash of red color, in some inward, downward motion—from above?—from the side?

A clatter, a boom, and the world exploded, and I was flying forward, beyond the moblin, passing on its left, arcing and whirling like a drill bit—I paused, I needed food, no but was I dead?—and the moblin was awake, and its bright blue eye was open, and it was on fire, and then it crumpled down dead—and I was mad with pausing—what had happened?—what had I been foolish enough to miss?—what had I not seen?—and I skidded onto the planks near the other tower, inside the other tower, and a glowing, glimmering teal angel with a long head-fin and beautiful arms like an enfolding shroud shimmered up in the air around me, dissipating into twinkling lights like fireflies.

“Mipha, no—” I choked, feverishly pausing again. I didn’t want to waste her gift on something so foolish—

It would revive me, she had said, the moment my strength was completely depleted.

It would bring me back to life.

Like a fairy, I had thought.

Oh why hadn’t I just been able to use a fairy, and preserve Mipha’s Grace for a time more needed than this?

Was there really any silence after the blast? How could there be?

I staggered to my feet.

I was alive.

I had extra hearts.

I was strong.

But Mipha’s Grace—

I paused again.

Would it still be there?

And to my shock it was. There in my inventory. But it was hollow. No longer gleaming in holy blue flames, but empty, and stark, and red with its usage.

I hadn’t wanted to waste it on something like this....

But as I looked again—there was a timer beside it. Counting down. And the words “Ready in”....

OH SWEET NAYRU IT WASN’T WASTED! I had been so afraid that I would only be able to use it once—but it was going to come back!

Mipha’s Grace would come back!

It would take time, but it was there.

It was still there.

She was still with me.

I took stock of my surroundings. One bokoblin snuffled around, alert, on the platform directly above me. That must have been the one that—

Must’ve cast an arrow, or thrown something.

That blue bokoblin....

Or maybe it really was black this time.

Augh, Black! Blue! What’s it matter anyway? They would all end up both of those colors when I got through with them!

Not So Simple

Waking of Friday, April 14, 2017 ~ 6

Not So Simple

There seemed to be a rugged but fairly clear path straight up into the foothills and toward the tower. I followed it, but.... not for too long. I soon found myself vaulting over the knolls to the left, keeping to higher ground, wanting to skirt the bare open spaces. I didn’t like to make myself a welcome target.

Left was the wrong choice, though, I soon discovered. Not by any imminent attacking danger—but by hazard of the environment.

Unseeable from the river valley below, pools upon pools of sticky brown bogwater festered in these high sort of paddies or spills.... The land was depressed enough up here to hold them. The landscaping might even have been man-made, for there were ruins up here, too. This was the Military Training Camp....?

Hm, but I am hesitant to call them ruins exactly; everything seemed mostly made of wood. Which I don’t suppose disqualifies it, but.... Well, the majority of it seemed to have been smashed and scattered all over itself, but the thing was it looked as if it could have happened only days ago.

Ruin enough anyway, I suppose.... An enormous tangle of tilted boardwalks, listing platforms.... and deadly spills into the bubbling ooze.

It was also crawling with blue bokoblins, and peppered with high explosives.

I moved carefully, and progressed by my bow.

The bokoblins didn’t pose too much of a threat. But it was a little disheartening seeing so many spoils lost to the bog. There was simply no recovering them. I tried to use my arrows sparingly.

The camp was extensive, to put it mildly. Onward and upward the splintered woodwork and wonky boardwalks led, until I came to one very large brown bog at the crest of the whole dead hill. Rickety wooden spires and questionable platforms spread over its glistening surface in an unpleasantly sun-simmered complex that looked thick and navigable enough from the shore. But moving out amidst it, treading over its narrow planks and planting myself on its sorry little islands of scrap boxes and upturned bridge-segments made into ladders and walls....

No, the ways here were few and constricted. The avenues were sparse, and I’d only have one dimension to move around in. I could see a few blue moblins tromping around on patrol up on some of the higher levels.... and blue bokoblins camped out high on some of the towers.

We may as well have been moving through tunnels. There would be no skirting around these guys. Sooner or later, I would have to face them, and take them down.

Because the Sheikah Tower was jutting from this bog too. And if I could just make my way to that high, high platform beside it.... I could reach it, and scale it.

To make it even more interesting, there were two or three lizalfos churning through the mud below. Dratted reptiles, that they could swim in that muck....

With a little Magnesis to move a large metal box for an extra platform, I got just close enough to take out the lizalfos first, not giving them enough time between my arrows to spit back at me. But there were still plenty of bokoblins to get through on the scrapwood islands—and I did not want to upset any of their explosives!

The sun went down. Rain came and went. The trek was longer than I’d thought it would be. There were so many dead-ended platforms reachable only by paraglider, traps low in the mud.... For where could you go once you landed?

This place would be so much easier to shake down once the tower was activated....