Rito Village

Waking of Saturday, January 5, 2019 ~ 3

Rito Village

I had a feeling I was going to like it here.

Mazli was the next Rito I met; he seemed to patrol the boardwalks about the townward end of the series of bridges. He told me Vah Medoh shot down anything that flew too high, and that it was frustrating for the Rito to have to fly so close to the ground.

I looked up. Now that I was here, on the Rito Rock, I could see that the Divine Beast seemed to be set in a circling course around it high in the sky. Like the biggest buzzard in the world....

Another Rito, this one with seagreen plumage, lazed on a larger landing as the boardwalk veered off to the right and began to circle the Neck. He seemed down; I guessed the oppressive Divine Beast had everyone in low spirits.

Like they do.

There were shops branching off this lowest circuit of the path, and they all seemed similar in build to that house I had seen of Kass’ up on the treeshroom, only bigger. An ample, circular floor, a short wall rising up to about waist-height around the circumference (excepting at the door), and above this, enough vertical supports to hold up the high roof, which was conical, rustically shingled on the outside, and warmly raftered on the inside. The resultant open views onto the lake and the yellow mountains beyond were spectacular.

Each shop seemed to have its own clappercaller standing outside, hungry for custom. There was the Swallow’s Roost, which was the local inn. Two honeymooning Hylians were staying there, but the wife thought this town was a hole; I told her she didn’t know what she was talking about. Then there was the Slippery Falcon, which sold all the goodly foodstuffs you couldn’t find out in the field, like milk, wheat, and butter, as well as some pretty good arrows. And then there was the Brazen Beak, which was the clothing and armor shop. And they sold....

“THE WINGALING HAT!” I gasped. 8D

This set was called the Snowquill Trousers, Shirt, and Headdress. WOW! And they imparted a cold-reducing effect. Excellent! I bought the whole ensemble, and oh did they look smashing.

The basis of all the clothing I could see the Rito wearing included a front-lacing, corset-like girdle that reached all the way up to the breastbone and ended in an acute chevron just below the waist. It looked very aerodynamic, and its design was echoed in the Snowquill Shirt fit for Hylians. The shoulders and waist-back also sported decorative feathering, and the whole outfit was trimmed with the soft-spoken diamonds and gentle geometric patterns of the Rito aesthetic, which I’d seen painted neatly along the boardwalks on my way in.

And with my head at long last under the Wingaling Hat, my sidelocks were now bound into pristine little tresses, completely enclosed at the bottom by those decorative, anchor-shaped jewelry-weights. And leaping up behind my pointy left ear, the namesake of the thing: a single, wing-shaped piece rising white and glittering from the circlet. The asymmetrical design gave the headdress.... an archaic, sylvan kind of grace.

Now these would be good for cold climates!

Further along the winding, rising boardwalk as it wrapped counterclockwise around the Neck, I met more Ritos, in their open, circular dwellings, more Ritos, talking about the Divine Beast, more Ritos, wishing they could give it what for, and—oh my gosh—BABY RITOS! Oh my gosh they were so cute! ^_^

One little one I spoke to told me tales about how “Molli’s dad got hurt—” ( Uh!? D8 ) “—and Tulin’s dad went missing.” Oh my gosh....

Maybe some of them had tried to give the Divine Beast what for, and their efforts had gone awry.... I’d seen that with other peoples. I hoped they were all right—I wanted to help—I can’t help it—when I hear about people getting hurt—

My shrine-detector had been brreep-brreeping at me, and I found the shrine, partway up the spiral, at the end of a little jutting tangent of the boardwalk, on the broad, grassy top of another great thrusting shoot of yellow rock. The Akh Va’quot Shrine.

A dizzying windmill puzzle lay inside. My sleepy mind couldn’t handle much more of this....

I locked it down all the same, and continued along the path.

The spiraling boardwalk just opened up on the right side at whiles, sometimes plainly with simple breaks in the railing, sometimes grandly in broad landings. I guessed these were an airfaring people after all. Perhaps the spiraling path wasn’t so linear as it looked, if you included the airways....

And then I came to the dwelling of one Harth.

Harth sat on the floor at the back of his house, head bowed, holding one wing. “Owwwwwwwww...” I heard him murmur. This must have been the one who was injured.

All of the other Rito I had seen had plumage in a modest rainbow of colors; the children were more and especially vibrant. But Harth was black as soot, with long crest-feathers drooping in a brooding sulk from his head.

I asked him what the matter was, but he didn’t really want to talk to me about it, only muttering about that cursed monster. When I pressed, he introduced himself as the village bowsmith. But he couldn’t raise his arm just now, so business wasn’t that great at the moment.

He left it off at that.

“Are you all right?” I asked him once more.

“Not really... If this is what we are up against, we should have put more stock in the elder’s words.”

I couldn’t get anything else out of him, and on that enigmatic note he dropped his head again and returned to cradling his wing.

What did he mean ‘we’ should have....?

Did he and someone else attack the Divine Beast?

“Molli’s dad got hurt, and Tulin’s dad went missing.”

But where else could one go who went missing? After attacking a Divine Beast?

I hoped missing only meant missing, and not DEAD. For the child’s sake. Though.... some romantic in me hungered after higher stakes and drama.

I left Harth alone. I could only go back to the boardwalk and higher round the Neck in hopes of finding out more from someone else.

But I only found more of the same, Ritos sighing and lamenting about the Beast overhead. And then I came to the home of Saki.

Saki looked different from the other female Rito—for oh she was definitely female, stunning in light, roselavender plumage with bright pink crest-feathers set back into a voluptuous bouffant, upcurled ends in pleasant, bouncing layers. Her face was somehow softer, not as sharp as other Rito faces, her eyes like wells.

Similar to other female Rito, she wore the decorative hoop-bangles where the men wore their anchored sidelocks. But her double-breasted oversash (the men’s sashes were single-sided, as was the one on my Snowquill Shirt) was white, instead of the seemingly traditional red. The rest of her ensemble was also lighter.

Surely now, I thought, maybe this one will open up and tell me something....

“Can I help you?” she asked when I approached.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

“Never mind. Forget it.” And she broke off.

Dude....

I approached her again.

“Hello,” she said, “Please. Now is not a good time.”

Nothing.

I was really curious and concerned about the fate of that missing Rito....

And I was quickly running out of Rito houses to call on....

Blue Bedlam

Waking of Saturday, October 28, 2017 ~ 5

Blue Bedlam

The tack the stable gave me for Dragmire was.... exquisite! Guess they had to make it specially for him, as he was so huge. Heh, bright orange tassels to match his fire-bright mane and tail.... cool.

But there was one more thing left to do that would make his appearance perfect.

I boarded my new giant steed and warped back to the Outskirt Stable. It was Dragmire I would take out past Digdogg Suspension Bridge and into the desert; that was only fitting. But first....

I took Dragmire back out, and walked him over to the girl by the manger.

She was going to give my horse the Mohawk befitting the lineage of his grandsires.

The girl automatically began to ramble off her spiel asking if I’d like her to do up my horse’s mane and tail, but she stopped in mid-sentence.

“Whoa!” she said, looking up, “That’s no pony you have there, is it!”

She remarked on his size, and said she wasn’t sure they had any implements big enough for him, and went on to mention that he didn’t seem like the type to enjoy having his hair messed with anyway.

:c

So....

No Mohawk for Dragmire.

Hhhhhhh.

I looked at some of my other horses.... changed Memory’s braids to a single French braid.... yes that looked good.

I guessed the Dark Horse was too special to mess with.

Well.... that was fine, Nintendo.

I’d still take him out into the desert lands—his desert lands—as I pressed forward in my journey.

....

Or I would, in a little bit, anyway.

Satori Mountain was glowing again.

Back went Dragmire into the stable, and back I warped to the high, cold peak of Satori Mountain.

This time I scrambled all the way to the top of one of the three stones at its crest, giving myself an open view into the high clearing.

I felt like I’d stepped into a Studio Ghibli film.

Blupees pattered around everywhere, taking slow little hops and sniffing the airs, the grasses, each other, their ears perking and twitching. They seemed drawn in toward the center, toward the perfectly round pool beside the cherry tree, but they would not touch or enter the shallow water. The sight of them—twenty at least—ringing the edge of the pool, gleaming like lanterns in the ghostly teal haze.... was striking.

And standing once again in the water.... the blue beast. The Lord of the Mountain.

I paraglided in this time, and landed on its back.

And it dawns on me, the brazen disrespect my avatar must have for these holy mystical creatures.

Unsurprisingly, it began to buck and kick. But to my amazement, the unmistakable Soothe-button icon appeared.

I pressed it. Repeatedly. I patted the creature’s neck and murmured soothing sounds, but my stamina was burning away fast.

And I had no more elixirs to extend it.

The Lord of the Mountain bucked me off and vanished.

The Blupees scattered where I rolled to a halt off the side of the pool. I rose back to my feet, exhausted, wondering if I’d blown another opportunity.

But the teal haze did not dissipate. Before my eyes, the blue beast rematerialized in the pool, standing peacefully as it had before, pawing the pool’s shallow bottom and dipping its strange head.

It was not facing me—otherwise I think it would have bolted. I think it also helped that I stood several paces away from it.

It stood in perfect perpendicular profile to me.

Was it a mount? Or was it game?

Maybe it was remembering how ineffective my previous sword strokes had been that made me draw my strongest bow and nock a Bomb Arrow to the string.

I overestimated the arc, and the arrow just shaved the creature’s back before detonating on the far side of the pool.

There was lantern-blue bedlam on the mountaintop. The blue beast bolted, evaporating into thin air in a heartbeat, while the Blupees darted confusedly in all directions.

And yet, after a moment had passed and the rabbitkabobs had calmed down.... the blue beast appeared yet again.

This time I didn’t miss. But there was little difference to the result—the blue beast, now on fire, turned and ran, disappearing in mid-stride as it had before. The Bomb Arrow had not been able to fell it.

And this time, the ghostly teal haze did evaporate, the night became clear, the Blupees were gone.... and I was alone.

Guess it’s three strikes and you’re out.

Something glimmered on the far side of the pool.

I walked across the shallow water to find.... rupees.

I guessed I’d blown up a few Blupees with that first Bomb Arrow.

I pocketed the money.

....

Is that why it’s spelled Blupees and not Blupies?

The Big Dang Horse

Waking of Saturday, October 28, 2017 ~ 4

The Big Dang Horse

What had commandeered my attention after I set my controller down to charge....? Probably just the necessaries of life.

I came back and found that my lonely WiiU had gone to sleep.

Rats! I hadn’t found a proper saving point!

I restarted it all back up....

And I was on Satori Mountain.

The glowing beast wasn’t there. But the Korok I scared up was.... some consolation I suppose.

I went back to the Outskirt Stable. Probably. I let myself play too far and too long without logging—it gets hard to remember—

Suffice it to say that the sirens played havoc in my head again and I was off to the Great Plateau.

They say Hylians have long ears to hear the voices of the Gods.

I think when I play it’s more like hearing the call of attention deficit disorder.

Hm, or since he’s the avatar, and I’m the player, does that make me the God? He does so readily obey my every whim.... though I allow him the moments that must be lived one way and no other.

But let’s not get too meta just here.

The rain was pouring on the Stasis Shrine, but through the din I could still hear the mean, scruffling sounds of stal-creatures clawing up out of the earth and wishing to do me ill.

Not wanting to deal with them I ran toward the first empty edge I could see and jumped off into the cacophonous, blustering night.

I couldn’t see anything for the rain. Just dim looming shapes in the distance—mountains and hills. I had to consult my map to orient myself.

I wanted back in the Lynels’ Corridor.

I had unfinished business there.

Maybe it was that I had finally taken my horses out and showed them a little bit of love. Ah, my sweet babies.... I like to keep them locked up safe and sound—no telling what we might encounter out in the world. I didn’t want anything to happen to them.

Mm but they were still my proud and wonderful beasts, and I still liked to ride the roads with them.

And there had been that Mohawk mane style....

....

There was only one animal in the world for which that style would be so.... singularly and definitively befitting.

I touched down in the grasslands and jogged quickly toward the baobabs—there were wolves about and I didn’t need their attentions right now.

Presently the herd came into view. But.... they all looked the same. Five or six animals, milling around, cropping the grass.... All the same size.

Where was the big one?

Off to my right, right against the western mountain, one more dark horse pawed unconcernedly about. Fine place for it to stand when I was trying to compare them all.

I was sure it was the one from before—deep black body and a flaming orange mane and tail—but I wanted to make extra sure. I headed toward it, scooting round the baobabs in a fine game of ring-around-the-rosie until I was able to cow it back toward its fellows.

It joined up with them smoothly enough, droplets of water cleaving together. But was it all the way into their midst? The screen gave me no depth perception. The dark one still stood out big among the herd, and I was too far away to tell clearly—Was it larger for its size? Or for its nearness?

A littler horse walked in front of it.

Oh yeah, that was the big one.

And now that I had more stamina, I wanted to try it again.

And the slow chase was on.

I crouched down and crept carefully up behind it, freezing when it turned, pausing as long as I needed, closer and closer.... The other horses snorted and cantered away if they saw me, but my only concern was the Dark One.

Careful not to come up directly behind it—didn’t want a kick in the face, not from that one—I came close to its right flank.... and hopped on.

The thing jumped and bucked as I patted and soothed it frantically—my legs were spread wide over its huge barrel trunk—and my stamina began to burn away. I had much more of it this time, but it was going down fast.

But a quick look into my pockets showed me my stock of stamina dishes and elixirs—I used them all—and on the dregs of the very last one....

The Dark Horse stamped itself into a huff, and stood still beneath me.

I’d got it!

What a BEAST he was! Strong, and proud, and beautiful. I walked him back and forth, here and there, patting his neck, trotting him, reassuring him, soothing him and murmuring sweet sounds beneath the baobabs.

Hahhh! When I got this beauty back to a stable I’d—

And then I saw the problem.

The northern end of the Lynel’s Corridor is a box canyon. To the north is the towering wall of the Great Plateau. To the west, the red tiers of the Gerudo Highlands. To the east, the lush but steep mountain range bordering the lake.

The only way out of this place was southward, past not one but two Lynels, and a small battalion of mounted Bokoblins.

Touché, Nintendo. Touché.

There was no way I was attempting that on a steed that had anything less than complete trust in me. I couldn’t afford any refusals.

And so I continued trotting the Dark One back and forth, back and forth, round and round, again and again, now stopping, now starting, now sprinting, now stepping, always assuring him with pats to his neck, but not too many too fast, correcting him quickly, rewarding him fairly, and loving him gently.

He was a giant to be sure, but he seemed to have no energy for bursts of speed. His fastest gallop.... was his only gallop. This had me worried for getting past those Lynels, but.... after a long time of learning and bonding and with nothing else for it.... we turned our heads southward, and plunged down the grassland.

The Lynels were actually.... surprisingly easy to slip past! And they did not pursue us once we were out of their prowling grounds. And with a bit of weaving and dodging, the Bokoblins did not pose much of a threat either!

I pressed the Dark One onward down the road—we weren’t going to stop for anything until I could register this beast!

And we came at length to the Highland Stable, and it was once again that terrible conniption of deciding on a fitting name.

I knew whose horse this had to be descended from. It was obvious. The huge size, the soot-black coat, the mane like a raging fire. The proximity to Gerudo lands.

But to name him after anything having to do with such a figure.... it would be like a swear word. ._.

And yet.... how could I choose anything else? It would feel untrue. Unfaithful.

But truth and faithfulness notwithstanding, did such a figure even deserve any such honor?

This was a real pickle.

....

You know, perhaps his name had already gone down in history a thousand times as the darkest curse a man could utter.

But perhaps his surname.... the second name he took from the time he rode the black horse with the flaming mane.... perhaps that name was and had always been a purely Gerudo device.

And he wasn’t a Gerudo. Not really.

Maybe it was a good, proud name once. A strong Gerudo name.

Maybe it could be again.

I spent my twenty rupees at the stable counter, and I called my gargantuan steed....

Dragmire.

The Ultimate Game

Waking of Saturday, October 28, 2017 ~ 3

The Ultimate Game

It was strange remembering that there were other climes I loved. There were too many mysteries on the volcano; I wasn’t ready to leave them unsolved.

But at length I paraglided down to the Foothill Stable. There was something I’d seen David do in his game.... maybe it was the only thing that could get me to finally come down, for I wanted to try it, too....

~

David had been at the Outskirt Stable. I had directed him there and told him there was a man named Trott who would buy his Raw Gourmet Meat for a hundred rupees a cut.

And as he visited around with the other people at the stable, he came to that girl by the stalls and manger, and she made the offer to style his horse’s mane and tail.

“They can change the mane and tail design?” David blurted through an open grin.

“Yeah,” I said, and then added wryly, “Man, you really don’t talk to anyone, do you?”

David laughed.

I guess we’re each ahead of the other in our own ways.

I myself hadn’t even looked at the mane designs. But David did then, with.... Shooper I think was that particular horse’s name.

There were so many fun and amazing styles.... XD

~

Now at the Foothill Stable below the volcano, I took out Brown. I knew I could have just warped, but....

I like riding the roads.

I rode Brown aaaall the way to Kakariko Village, by way of the Sahasra Slope, and then aaaall the way to the Outskirt Stable.

But.... I couldn’t bring myself to do up his mane and tail. He just looks so good the way he is!

Thrice, however, I gave a long mane and tail, reminiscent of his wild upbringing.

And Memory? Mmm with his royal tack he did not look out of place wearing braids. Ehhhhhh BECAUSE.

And as long as I had a mount under me, thinking of new lands and new stables.... I decided it was time I took the road out across and beyond Digdogg Suspension Bridge.

And so Memory and I set out toward the desert canyon....

But we hadn’t been traveling for more than five or ten minutes—game minutes no less—before my swiveling view gave me a glance of Satori Mountain.

It was lit up.

The sun wasn’t even down.

I looked at the clock: the time was five pm, and the whole of the night lay ahead of me.

....

I brought Memory to a screaming halt, dashed back to the stable, and boarded him again.

I wanted to try and catch those Blupees at their meeting!

When I warped to Satori Mountain it was raining, and I shivered in the cold, but my Warm Doublet was enough for that.

I hiked up the slippery slope to the three-way crevasse at the mountain’s peak, and creeping forward to the highest split, I once again saw those little blue rabbitkabobs visiting with each other in the ghostly teal haze.

I was able to snap their pictograph this time. Blupees, my Compendium said.

Huh, from David’s mention of their name I’d thought of it spelled ‘blupies’ in my head.

Ah well.

I edged toward them, wondering how they would react—

There was something else in the clearing beyond.

Big. And glowing.

Crystal-blue like the rabbits.

Was this the Beast that Quince had told me about so long ago?

I snapped this one’s pictograph, too. And—

The Lord of the Mountain, my Compendium called it.

Huh. o.o

This was that beast.

It pawed the ground like a horse, looking about like a nervous deer, and its face.... made me think of an owl for some reason. Strange antlers sprang from its crown.

The ultimate game, I thought.

Wasn’t that what somebody had said?

Satori Mountain was the place to find game.

And this Lord of the Mountain.... wasn’t this the ultimate game?

I nocked an Ice Arrow, took aim, and let fly.

The thing reared and froze and I was paragliding in. The nearby blupees scattered and disappeared. I hit the beast again and again while the ice held, but when it finally broke free—

It vanished.

It was gone.

All the blupees were gone, too.

And the night was clear; the teal haze evaporated, and I could see the stars.

It seemed the mountain wouldn’t light up anymore, if that one got scared off.