Privy Thoughts Again

Evening of Wednesday, June 19, 2019 (comprised of many raw note editings from May 1 through May 10, 2023 that I really hope sound consistent because I left it alone for too long)

Privy Thoughts Again

I had asked the interwebs the previous day. Or the day before. For help. Help on the last two shrines. There was no answer for a long time.

But there was an answer today.

But I didn’t look at it. Because David.... encouraged me not to. He told me I was like the church member who finally just said That’s it I’m gonna try a beer, and then ALL my friends who drink would be like NONONONONO DON’T DO THAT??

Keepin’ me on the straight and narrow.

So I left the thread alone.

And I never went back.

That teaser for a Breath of the Wild sequel came out the other day.... I saw Link and Zelda traveling underground..... leading some large, horned pack-beast.... and Zelda had cut her hair!

And I just thought Underground.... underground....

If I play that game.... and I don’t meet up again with Master Kohga....

If Master Kohga doesn’t appear again with his antics

and all his silly dialogue....

If I don’t get to kick that guy’s butt again

until he becomes a good guy,

becomes a part of my nakama,

becomes my Friend....

Well that would just be the saddest panda.

~

Is nakama even the right word?

I can’t remember my Japanese art history class....

~

I had only one hundred and eighteen shrines.

....

I must....

I must look forward.

I cannot see another way....

Do I dawdle?

Do I try?

Where do I go?

....

My shoulder was too girly and roundy; no way the Little Link was gonna stay put there. I reclined him comfortably on the couch beside me instead.

....

I saved.

I went.

And I was in the Library. In a little concealed hidey-hole that had somehow always escaped my notice until now, hidden behind another Magnesable bookshelf at the head of the room.

The King’s Study.

Saved here, and....

There was a chest, with a gold rupee inside it, and....

There was a book.

Sitting open on a stately desk.

King Rhoam’s Journal.

The Writings of

Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule

Today, as the sun rose and a new day

was born, my daughter, too, joined this

sweet world.

Oh.... such a span of years in this journal!

In keeping with the traditions of

the royal family, I have decided

to name her...Zelda.

I am not a man accustomed to frivolous

musings, but now seems as good a time

as any to begin my royal memorandum.

Next.

Reports keep arriving regarding the

excavation of relics. The fortune teller’s

predictions seem to be coming true.

That Fortune-Teller again....

Calamity Ganon was not a figure of fable,

or even of legend. He actually existed in

our great land of Hyrule.

What was that even like? To not know, to have him be so distant.... So distant it feels like just a legend. A story....

We must investigate all the relics, learn

as much as we can. But understanding

the Divine Beasts alone will take time...

Zelda’s eyes lit up like a wildfire when

I told her about the relics... I must admit,

she has a knack for research.

The King admits it.... But.... He still must have felt the sway of the mighty responsibilities on their shoulders....

Next.

My Queen has left this world. [Oh....] Her death

was so sudden and unexpected, I awaken

most nights unsure if she is really gone.

Zelda never cried, never faltered. [No?] Not

even during the royal funeral or later

when she and I were alone with our grief.

I must assume her strength is a result of

us repeatedly informing her of her duty

to be a valiant and steady princess.

I wonder.... That woman from her dream....

For a child of merely six [Six??] years of age,

her conduct was truly that of a born

leader. Her strength gives me hope.

From now on, I must raise her all alone...

Now, only I remain to prepare her for her

difficult future as princess of Hyrule.

I wonder.... if there have ever been Hyrulean Princesses who were not named Zelda....

Next.

Zelda finally reported back after her visit

to the fountain. [Oh not this day already, surely....] It seems her sacred

sealing power has still yet to awaken.

It has been a year and three months

since her mother passed. [Oh, no, she was younger then.... a different fountain maybe....] Perhaps she is

held back by heartache too deep to heal.

If the Ganon prophecy wasn’t looming

over our heads, I would tell her to take

her time... To wait until she is ready.

They—or he—did feel the pressure, then.

But our situation is dire and leaves no

room for weakness—even on behalf of

my beloved daughter.

It.... must have been hard. For him.

My heart breaks for Zelda, but I must act

as a king, not a father. I must order her

to train relentlessly at the fountain.

Next.

I was told Zelda went off to research

ancient technology, so I had no

choice but to confront her about it.

That day.

She claims she was simply using her day

off from training to indulge in a bit of

research, but still I scolded her.

She won’t get it through her head...

Forcing me to tell her the same thing

I have been repeating ad nauseam.

No but she must have known.... But felt so helpless....

The reason her sacred powers still won’t

awaken is because she’s spending all her

efforts playing at being a scholar!

Huhhhh.

Next.

In truth, I understand Zelda’s feelings.

Painfully so. She lost her mother, her

teacher, before she could learn from her.

Ten pointless years of self-training,

without so much as a book or note

to help her find her way...

It sounds.... hard.

Those in the castle talk behind her back.

And I, her only family, scold her for

her shortcomings.

Hhhhh.

No wonder she wishes to hide away in

her beloved relic research. I’d love

nothing more than to console her...

These two poor hard lost souls.

But I must stay strong. She MUST

fulfill her duty, just as we all must.

Even if she comes to despise me.

I cannot fault him. He is being a father. He is being a man.

Next.

I have been told my Zelda went to the

Spring of Wisdom...

Not this day.

This will likely be her last chance. [....Does he.... sense something, somehow?]

If she is unable to awaken her power

at Lanayru, all hope is truly lost.

No.

Please, do not tell me the King died thinking ruin and calamity had come upon him because of his daughter....

If she comes back without success,

then I shall speak kindly with her.

Scolding is pointless now.

Lost.... lost....

Lost chances.

I forced 10 years of training on her...

and after all that, it seems her power

will stubbornly awaken some other way.

Perhaps I should encourage her to keep

researching her beloved relics. They may

just lead her to answers I can’t provide.

For now, I sit anxiously, more a father

than a king in this moment. I sit and

await my daughter’s return.

....

That.... is the end.

This study.

....

I wonder how it ended for him.

....

I have to go.

I will try to make my way to the top.

After I save again....

~

 

Dark Ascent

Waking of Monday, April 22, 2019 ~ 4

Dark Ascent

I still stood on Zelda’s Bridge.

I was feeling pretty accomplished! and now didn’t quite know what to do with myself.

....

Well, I came here for the memory, and I got it.

But before I go, I want.... that. The highest tower.

....

I’m gonna go get it.

*

Okay, Revali’s Gale did not work from my position of clinging to the top of the spire—scrabbled to throw another A-press and paraglide anyway, from the spire atop Zelda’s Study to.... further in.

I couldn’t tell. Maybe I could, once, in another life. But at present I barely had a grasp of the castle’s interior, and a great deal of that was collapsing in ruin. The higher exterior was a Malice-tormented forest of spires, tiered cliffsides, battlements running from who knows to why not, and the mightiest of flying buttresses. For myself it was only a fretful, embered surreptition of climbing towers.... paragliding.... climbing towers again.... So much Malice.... the air so blustery.... and I always wondering whether a Guardian would target me at any moment....

The cross section of the roughly conical shape of the castle grounds was narrowing; I was definitely making progress. I paraglided again—Sanctum—the name of the new locale gleamed into terrible focus across my screen—“NO, I DON’T WANT THE SANCTUM!” I hollered as I sailed toward the fire-bright architecture glowing under the hellish sky. I was not ready for this.

I slammed into a wall and clung on for dear life and was afraid to touch the ground below me. Would it trigger something? Defying physics I demanded my way instead up over a horizontal battlement until I could stand again.

I did not want anywhere called a “Sanctum”.... Not now....

I kept climbing.

Oh my gosh I could see inside windows and places to go, a hole in the floor with a ladder leading down OH GOSH....

Oh, nope, nope, NOPE, NOPE! Nope, nope. Nope! NOPE! NOPE!

*

I got up on top of a tower with a busted top; the collapse was flat enough to stand on. I am so high up now. I could see the tops of those five columns.... Might even be able to paraglide to one of them, but.... NO, first....

>_<

Oh man....

Very close.... I was very close.... This seemed to be one of a handful of side towers encircling the uppermost central column of the castle’s architecture.

Okay help me, Revali....

And he did—

OH!

GOT ON THE CENTRAL TOWER.

OKAY.

WOW.

OH MY GOHOHOSH, I COULD SEE THE WHOLE WORLD FROM HERE! So narrow, so open, so little to obstruct my views anymore.

All the Divine Beasts’ lasers were pointed right at me..... oh my gosh....

I kept climbing.... up the vertical stone, up the steep shingles.... It got cold, and on went one of my warming circlets.... Who built this spire? Did they freeze too?

“Vah Rudania.... Vah Naboris....” [waitthosetwoaren’tadjacent--] I named the distant, barely visible shapes as they passed under the orbit of my gaze, the ends of their lasers so MONUMENTALLY PRESENT. I kept climbing and looking and I looked up into the raging yellow-orange-fire sky and “WHAAAAT? WHAT IS THAT?”

THERE IS A DARK BODY IN THE SKY. ROUND LIKE THE MOON. AN ECLIPSE? WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?

IT IS NEARLY MIDNIGHT. IS THAT THE BLOOD MOON?

OH MY GOSH.

“I GOTTA SEE IT.” I SAID LIKE IAN MALCOLM. I MEAN. UM. DAVID LEVINSON. JEFF GOLDBLUM.

IS EVERY NIGHT HERE A BLOOD MOON NIGHT?

MIDNIGHT STRIKES.

AND THEN THE DARK BODY TURNED WHITE AND SHRUNK BACK TO SIZE.

IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WHY IS THE SKY STILL SO RAGING?

I KEEP CLIMBING. THE LAST SPIRE’S BASE SO TOWERING AND STRANGE, LIKE A STACK OF ALTERNATING GEARS.

WHO ERECTED THIS TOWER?

AND THEN.... I SEE FLOWING LEAVES AND HEAR THAT LIGHT WOODEN CLATTERING AS I NEAR THE TOP.

“Found you.”

I knew it.

I reached the final, heaven-piercing end of the highest spire on the tallest tower, and saddled into a hanging, one-handed cling. My gosh.

I examined the glittering dapple of leaves and woodwindwater sounds—and it was a Korok. Of course. Even here. Just between the beams of Vah Rudania and Vah.... Ruta, I think.

Oh my gosh, I could see the whole world. Everything.

Heuhuhuh! And on my map in the Castle Map, my location-indicator.... that little yellow arrow that showed where I was.... I looked like a flag on a pole.

Oh gosh....

The castle’s billowing Orchestra still blustered all around me like this hellish, hellish sky! What was up with this sky? The everpresent cloud wrack was driven endlessly tormented in unholy flames above my head. Day or night, it was always the beautiful, terrible color of fiery doom, blown on forever by forces unnatural.

So swept the Orchestra. Still pounding, still ringing, still tipping between the Ascending Organ of the Dark One, and the Lullaby of She who held him at bay. The tension between them still tautened on a rusty crank meant for torture before I realized—there was yet another theme there as well. One older even than Zelda’s Lullaby.

Those five notes ascending, springing like a flame, tonic to dominant, root to fifth—in minor this time. Preceded by those two hits that came clomping down like boots with something to say.

1__5__________1_1-2-3-4-5__________!

The Hero’s Theme.

My Theme.

And that made Three.

Should it have come as any surprise?

It pronounced its presence with a percussive flare, and swelled heroically with the string section, as though to proclaim its intention of slicing the ties and bringing this battle to rest one way or the other. Until at the cadence the Castle’s own theme cycled back round to take up the song again.

Like it does.

Should it have come as any surprise? That here in the Heart of Hyrule, here at the Crux of the Age, under the eyes of the Goddesses.... there would be Three.

There would always be Three voices in this Dreadful Dialogue.

....

I’d thought about the logging of this part, and had wanted to say that it wasn’t a Dreadful Dialogue after all, but a Dreadful Trialogue; but then I looked up the Greek roots, and the “dia” of “dialogue” actually meant “through” instead of “two”, and I was vexed by the thwartation and couldn’t bring myself to justify the pun.

The Black Stallion

Waking of Tuesday, January 1, 2019

The Black Stallion

It was the Rose Parade.

It was seeing all those danged beautiful horses with the luscious garlands of brilliant, colorful flowers hung all around their necks and flanks....

Augh.

I’d taken enough pictographs to somewhat flesh out my Compendium. I’d seen the animal section. There were horses, white horses, giant horses, donkeys, the Lord of the Mountain, stalhorses.... and I think that was it for the equines if you could count the Lord of the Mountain as an equine.

I knew I could register up to five horses, and I still had room for one more.... But it didn’t look like there were any more special horses to find, the one blank space yet to explore on my map notwithstanding.

I wanted a new horse.

I wanted a steed to wear my Extravagant Tack.

It was late, it was past my bedtime, and I had work in the morning, but.... I wanted to culminate the little zeitgeist I felt about it.... zeitgeistchen? Zeitgeistlein—I DON’T KNOW GERMAN.

I skimmed around my map. Where were there horses? I blinked as I realized it was never really something I took any special note of. I knew they could be found somewhat near to stables most of the time. And I knew where I’d seen that black one that one time....

It was the Valley of Terror then. Though the terror was all but gone for me, I think. If I did bump into the one decayed Guardian out in the field, I’d be able to take care of it.

I ran out to find the herd, but there were no all-black ones. A second herd grazed a bit to the north, but that one didn’t have any black ones either.

Where else could I warp? I really didn’t pay attention to where the horses were.... I’d always just stuck to talking to the people, waiting for clues about where the rare breeds roamed.

Those fields north of Jeddo Bridge looked promising, so I warped over to the Odyssean Sheem Dagoze Shrine, and started truckin’ it up the hill.

There were a couple of herds here as well, but again I could find no black ones.

From here I could think of nothing else but to warp back to the Ha Dahamar Shrine at the Dueling Peaks Stable, and again check the herds in the Valley of Terror. Their coats had changed upon the reload! But there were still no black ones.

I wanted a black one.

I bounced back and forth between these two fields for a while. It was most troublesome at night; it took a couple of incidents before I remembered to anticipate the dark with my Radiant Gear. That still didn’t stop the keese, though. And the dang Yigamen didn’t care what time of day it was.

At some point I added another field to search to my cycle: the Fural Plain just adjacent to the Highland Stable. I had been hesitant to go there because every previous visit to that place, at least via the road, had been plagued by that little troop of mounted Bokoblins. But it was the only other place I could think of that I was pretty sure had horses....

I was happy to discover this time, however, that the Bokoblins seemed to have gone! It had been quite a few Blood Moons since I’d cleaned them out.... but they hadn’t respawned. Huh. They reappeared in other get-rid-of-the-monsters sidequests—why hadn’t they reappeared here?

I didn’t know.

I was just happy to see them gone.

And happier to see that there were indeed horses here!

None of the ones I saw were black, though.

Poop.

I warped back and again, around and around, Ha Dahamar, Sheem Dagoze, Ka’o Makagh, Ha Dahamar, Sheem Dagoze, Ka’o Makagh....

I did this for so long—How else do you think I memorized these shrine names?

At some point I cut out the Sheem Dagoze Shrine, though. It was too long a jog to get to the horses; and the stal-creatures, keese and Yiga seemed to appear more frequently there.

So it was back and forth between the Valley of Terror and the Fural Plain. I saw reds, creams, greys, piebalds, skewbalds, appaloosas, gypsy cobs....

There!

There was a black one in the Fural Plain! But.... it had four white socks.

I chased it for a while, desperate. Had I only imagined that all-black horse before? No I hadn’t imagined it; it had kicked me in the face pretty hard. But had I imagined the color....?

I thought about just.... letting the socked horse suffice me. Maybe there were no all-black horses.... Just like there were no common all-white horses.

But....

No.

I kept warping.

And after a great, weary long time.... LO! There really was an all-black horse!

FINALLY!

It showed up on the Fural Plain on a sunny afternoon, and the flamerosy glow played havoc with my view of it through the scope—was it really black? Or was it a brown or a grey, only painted darker by a trick of the sun’s glare?

But I got closer and it was all black. There were subtle color variations on its muzzle and around its hooves.... but so were there for Memory. I didn’t think I’d find a blacker horse than this.

This chase was on.

The problem with the Fural Plain was that the grass, most of it, was remarkably short. This made sneaking up on the black horse deucedly difficult, especially as he had one other horse friend on the lookout with him. Several times I sent him trotting and galloping away into the boundaries of the field, many of which were comprised of sizeable stone cliffs. But it was a real fear of mine that the horse might come to an open spot and bolt down a road or somewhere leading out of the field. But I wasn’t sure how justified that fear really was.... Would the game keep it hemmed in?

I chased the horse for [game-] days, trying to maneuver it into one of the grassier spots where I could approach it more stealthily. The intermittent Yiga did not make things any easier.

But at great length I was finally able to mount the black stallion and soothe him into submission, whereupon I took him straight to the stable for to register him before anything else could happen.

I thought for a long time about his name. Jett? No, too literal. This was one of the harder conniptions I’d had over naming a steed! I wanted something strong-sounding, something ancient, something kingly, something like one of those archaic words that has a CH pronounced like a K....

Archeantus?

Mmm.... I didn’t even type it in. A strong name, but.... maybe not the strongest namesake.

Archibald?

That wasn’t a K sound....

I was just stuck on this Arch- usage....

Somehow in all the archaisms I swayed into the possibility of Oberon. Mmm, the deep vowels matched his coat and color.... and the reference matched the mystique of an all-black horse!

But I also thought of the name of Knight. Strong and royal to be sure.... though the pun was perhaps not as sophisticated.

I swiveled between these two for a while. Oberon and Knight. But Knight felt more alive, sharper, keener, and faster. Not so serious or reserved as Oberon. Or as wise-sounding, but that was okay.

Knight it was!

I rode him around the Fural Plain until his trust in me was such that I could alter his mane and other trappings. And back at the stable.... on went the Extravagant Tack.

....

Knight looked embarrassed in it, too.

Hmm.

I.... fiddled with it....

....

A look at Knight’s statistics showed me that he had.... four of five points in speed.

That was faster even than Memory.

Dang he was a fast horse. I could see the difference as I rode and spurred him into a gallop—how fast the land flew by around us!

Hah hah, he truly was a Knight!

I rode him to the Dueling Peaks Stable, just to get a look at him in motion in this momentary tack and mane-style....

And then I remembered upon arrival Uh, no mane-changers here.

So I rode to Outskirt, took him to the girl by the manger, and played with his mane some more....

“Oh my gosh you’re ridiculous, you spend three hours finding a horse and playing dress up with it. This is why I’m ahead of you in getting shrines.”

Beautiful lines from David.

In the end, I just stuck with the mohawk and the Extravagant Tack. The mohawk suited his wild temperament. And Knight could stand the Extravagant Tack. He could make up for the flamboyant red feather springing from his crown. He was the fastest horse in my team. And a glorious, powerful midnight black besides!

Knight could wear the Extravagant Tack with welcome challenge to any who scorned.

But a horse named Oberon would never have been able to abide it at all.

I rode to the Tabantha Bridge Stable.

I was ready.

The Mysterious Palmorae Disc

Waking of Saturday, October 27, 2018 ~ 3

The Mysterious Palmorae Disc

“Okay, Zuta, lead me to ruins!”

I was back in Lurelin Village, entertaining an eager young child who really wanted to show me something.

We ran northeast along a low shelf of land for a long time, as it started to rain.... until Zuta finally stopped short and said, “Tell Garini I said hi!”

And then he started running back toward the village.

Okay then.

I continued along a little track that led back down to the beach. The sand seemed to extend quite a ways inland here, flooring a deep hollow in the side of the mountain. So these were the Palmorae Ruins. I could see two glowing daises, but not much else was distinguishable through the rain.

I moved closer, and just beyond the daises I saw a man, looking at—

WHAT.

THAT WAS....

THAT LOOKED REMARKABLY LIKE....

NO.

IT COULDN’T—

ASDFGHJKL;

IETHGERJSGHJAEKSGFAEKLR;GJNAEK;NVJLRAEHGUFIAR;EHGIRJ

I made myself remember how far I was from the Arbiter’s Grounds in the desert.

It just looked so remarkably like the Mirror of Twilight at first glance.... broken and everything....

I spoke to the man, Garini. He was studying this ruin closely, trying to decipher the inscription along its circumference. But of course, as the disc was broken and he didn’t have all the pieces.... he was having a hard time. The years of rain and sea-swell had taken their toll on the structure.

So what’s a Hero to do? Of course I agreed to help him—it was a shrine quest! I searched out the three other pieces to take pictographs of them. It was easiest at night, when the markings glowed. But I worked as I could, finding one nearby in the sand, one away to the right amid some rocks in shallow water, and the last one waaaay out on that pointy point of a sandbar I had been to before when I was looking in all the wrong places for Aris Beach.

I studied the markings myself for a good little bit. I wondered what form or forms of Hylian they were.... if any.... Reminded me most of OoT Hylian, though some characters had that flowy, Gerudo look.... Oh I wanted to nerd it all out on Omniglot so bad....

I brought back the pictographs, and Garini deciphered: “When the two find their place and kneel in reverence, then the way will open,” or some such words.

“I haven’t the foggiest what that means,” said Garini.

I did.

I got on the dais on the right and knelt down.

Garini looked at me, “Ah! Is that it?”

He did the same on the other dais.

And we knelt together.... and the shrine appeared! ^_^ The Kah Yah Shrine.

Ah, I love it when the game makes you do such dances....

As of December 12, 2018 I still have not deleted the shard pictographs. The resemblance was just too close! What would possess someone to remove it from the desert to this location? It was a good hiding spot.... Has the internet already looked into this? Augh probably, probably....

The Missing Moldugas

Evening of Wednesday, September 19, 2018

The Missing Moldugas

I opened my map and made ready to warp to the Misae Suma Shrine.... but I couldn’t.

Then I remembered. Pokki had been collapsed all over the pedestal. I hadn’t been able to activate the warp pad.

I’d have to get back there on my own power for now.

The shrine still showed up on my map, just yellow instead of blue. I guessed that was what visited but unactivated shrines looked like.

Well, Tera’s shrine seemed to be the next most convenient—not Tera’s, Hawa Koth! That was its name. I warped there, cleaned out all the Safflina, caught a sand seal and started out east.

Every great fairy I’d visited seemed to host a native abundance of.... something. For Cotera it was Blue Nightshade flowers and, very occasionally, fairies. Mija had.... I want to say some kind of root, like carrots. Kaysa.... I don’t remember what Kaysa had; her environ was so dry.... Even Malanya the Horse God had an abundance of butterflies of every kind. And Tera had safflina plants, in many varieties. Good ingredients for whipping up any number of different elixirs.

But I think the Silent Princess flower grew at every fairy fountain.

Now, augh, for SOME reason I forgot to jot this down in my original notes, but.... I think this might have been where it happened.... A likely time and place, anyway....

I couldn’t exactly beeline from the Hawa Koth Shrine at Tera’s to the Misae Suma Shrine where Pokki was stranded.... without passing straight through the Southern Oasis.

I think that this might have been when I decided to do just that.

Fye! Shoddy note-taking....

And I had killed the Arbiter’s Ground Molduga around the same time as well.

FYE!

I sand-sealed toward the great rock until I caught the music on the air, at which point I let the beast go and bade it Godspeed.

Taking my time, I softly circumnavigated the Molduga’s course, limiting my movements when it was near; this one ran a smaller circuit than that very first one I had encountered. In fact, that first one had run the largest circuit of any I had seen thus far. It certainly made each new encounter less daunting at any rate.

One by one I drew out the loitering Lizalfos to put them down before dealing with the main threat. And then.... I attracted the monster’s attention.

Just like at the Arbiter’s Ground, now, I could do this....

I was still short on Bomb Arrows. But.... Well, frankly I had been just a little bit inspired by a certain video I’d seen of someone leading a Guardian Stalker out into the desert to duke it out with a Molduga. That person had been all right handling the Molduga on the ground....

I could do it too.... I’d already done it!

I still tried to keep some distance from it, though, drawing it out of the sand with normal arrows or bombs. And when I’d stunned it, I moved in right up against its great blubbery bulk, and it was melee all the way—which turned out to be faster work than it had been with arrows....

When the Molduga recovered it would thrash and twist round in a huge circle, flicking me high into the air with its huge tail, before burrowing back down into the sand. It sent me cartwheeling head over heels and took some hearts off, but.... it was a licking I could take for the present. My paraglider always caught me.

It only really became complicated when the two of us, ringing round the oasis, chanced upon a Lizalfos I had missed.

It’s.... tricky, to beat back an harrassing Lizalfos when the ground beneath you both is heaving uncontrollably, and could explode at any moment.

But it would be a lie to say it didn’t feel epic.

Turning from my main target I put the Lialfos down in a fury to give me some peace!

Well, relative peace.

But after that it was just a few more meaty exchanges on the ground before the mighty Molduga keeled over and gave up the ghost.

I’d beaten it on the ground. In the sand. In its own element.

At last I could explore this Southern Oasis! Perhaps the top held some kind of shrine-puzzle? I climbed up in the light of the falling sun, checking for Koroks everywhere....

The top was fairly level, with a little oblong depression in the middle where water sprang. A few fruit-bearing palm trees stood about, and there were a few more useful plants.... There were also a few boxes, and an unlit wok. Who had been here before?

After looting a treasure chest I found buried in the dirt, I couldn’t find anything else to do, except.... just enjoy the quiet up here.

Surely there had to be a SHRINE or something? The place was too far out of the way!

But I only walked around, cooked a few meals, explored the placid top of the rock, and enjoyed the quiet.

Until the Blood Moon rose that very night and spawned another Molduga, along with that confounded cello ensemble which I liked VERY MUCH, but which had QUITE overstayed its welcome at this point.

I chucked Bombs at the brute until it was mostly dead, whereupon I sailed down and finally put it out of my misery.

Of course the Lizalfos were always up for another round of sword-tag....

No rest for the weary....

I wondered if I’d missed an opportunity before that Blood Moon. I wondered what might happen at the Southern Oasis.... if I first dispatched all the Moldugas....

I was definitely going to come back here later.

Lunacy at Washa's Bluff

Waking of Saturday, August 11, 2018 ~ 2

Lunacy at Washa’s Bluff

Forget Faron Woods—I wanted that shrine at Washa’s Bluff, dang it.

I rode Memory out from Hateno, still collecting this and that for a bit until we arrived at Dueling Peaks. I boarded him then, maybe for time’s sake, and warped ahead by my lonesome to the Ridgeland Tower. After making a few flights for Branli, setting a new personal best distance record, and earning a few more rupees, I continued on foot into the rolling western hills.

The traffic was unusually thick, and I made a lot of new friends on the road, not the least charming of which were Nazbi and his horse Dauntless. I don’t even remember what they were on about; I just thought it was great to meet such a brash, young-hearted character with a horse by the name of Dauntless. They were a merry duo....

Another hop, skip, and a jump and I had made it to Washa’s Bluff, and the pedestal I’d need to stand on in order to call out the shrine. Kass waltzed away on his accordion in the treeshroom above me....

Hm. I wanted to go see him.

A quick warp to Satori Mountain and a long and precise paraglide saw me up into his lofty home. He recited the riddle for me, to stand on the pedestal bare—

Um....

When the moon bleeds and enemies are reborn, the monks will something as they have sworn, stand on the pedestal bare, with nothing between you and the air.

Or some such words.

It had been a while since the last Blood Moon, and Washa’s Bluff wasn’t exactly easy to get to.... I’d had the thought to do this in my mind for some time, but now I was actually doing it—I was going to wait with Kass until the next Blood Moon. That way I would be sure to get the shrine!

I almost went crazy listening to his music. I read his journal, I climbed on top of his house.... There wasn’t much else to do.

And when there was no Blood Moon that night, I laid down some wood and flint, built a fire, and waited ‘til the next night....

And as luck had it.... that was a Blood Moon.

So I floated down and stood on the now glowing pedestal.

And stood.... and stood.... and stood....

And Zelda’s vision of warning loomed through the night....

And I stood.... and stood.... and....

The pedestal went out?

Wha-euh—? Where was the shrine??

I scurried back into my menus and tracked down the shrine quest details.... I read the poem carefully....

Yes, yes, Blood Moon, blah blah blah....

Stand on the pedestal bare, with nothing between you and the night air.

Stand on the pedestal bare....

Stand on the pedestal bare.... with noth—

OH MY gosh.... this—

The descriptor, “bare”, referred to ME, not the pedestal!

UGHH I couldn’t believe this—Washa’s Bluff was so isolated, so far away from anywhere—There was no quick way to reach it, and Blood Moons gave such short notice.... I’d been so focused on actually being there during a Blood Moon that I hadn’t bothered to heed the rest of the poem....

I’d needed to strip for the shrine to come out.

I thought “bare” was just a rhyming device! Padding! I mean, judging by how every other song and poem in the game had felt when it reared its asymmetrical head.... The localizers had been wonderful and clever; I don’t deny that, but for friggin’— THEIR SENSE OF RHYTHM AND METER....

....

Wonder why it took me ‘til page four hundred to bring this up.

....

Probably ‘cause it’s the first time it’s gotten me in trouble.

....

....

I suppose just a comma might have helped but In my experience once you set a shape for your lilt you plumb that thesaurus ‘til the language FITS or you don’t come back at all.

Dang it.

The thwartation made me reckless; I warped to the Shrine of Katah Chuki—I was gonna get that Korok in the Castle Town Prison....

I actually found a lot of Koroks along the way. But when I closed in on the prison, and killed the Guardian that had scared me off before.... the little row of three statues stood with one platter empty, and the other two bearing.... Rusty Shields?? I didn’t have a Rusty Shield!

And considering the location you’d have thought I’d be able to find one fairly easily but no matter where I wandered there were absolutely none in sight!

So I tried just moving the Rusty Shields over and filling all the platters with apples.

Nothing happened.

Dang it!

I was just thwarted all over today.

I wandered a little more around the riverlands northwest of the castle; there was yet another Consolation Korok on a little crag below the ruins of that Ancient Laboratory or whatever it had been north of Jeddo Bridge. And a Star Fragment struck the earth a good ways upriver, near the base of the northernmost of the gigantic sealing pillars surrounding the castle—I made it there by Ninja Suit. Been picking up a lot of those lately.... due to waiting around looking for so many Blood Moons, I realized.

I flitted back along the shore beneath the Elma Knolls to where I had been, and scared up one more Korok before.... just warping to the Keo Ruug Shrine and sweet Pepp’s bed. I was tired.

It was 10:40 in the morning, game-time.

I slept until noon.

Heh, sounds about like the sleep I might get here, I thought, and went to bed.

The Other Side of Limbo

Waking of Friday, August 3, 2018 ~ 5

The Other Side of Limbo

The sand storm raged until—

That chime.

And my feet trod for nothing.

You can’t go any farther.

I had reached the western edge of my map.

So I turned south.

The storm continued to rage all around me, blotting out sun and moon, the wind howling, the grit flying horizontal across my path. On and on and on I jogged through the murk, shouldering off to the right every once in a while just to make sure I was still on the border, still on the edge.

My Sheikah Slate had lost functionality again; it was impossible to tell how far I had gone or how far there was left to go. All I had to guide me was that bumping chime to my right side—not that it was too difficult to move in roughly a straight line.

It seemed to go on forever.... just wind and Stalmoblins and dust and more wind and a few lonely animals and more Stalizalfos and—“NOT THE KEESE, NOT THE KEESE!”

I ran whenever I saw them.

Well.... I ran whenever I saw anything. Or nothing.

I just ran.

Was it day or night? I couldn’t tell.

There was a shape to my left. Roundish, humping obtrusive out of the fuzzy horizon. What was this....?

I slowed, and edged closer....

It was a skull-den. And there was at least one tower flanking it, with a Bokoblin on top, keeping a weather eye on—its invisible surroundings.

And I think it’s only now that I’m reminded of the morning of Thursday, January 9, 2003. But that is another story.

I traced the Bokoblin’s obscured movements through the sand, and stayed just deep enough away in the storm that he did not see me as I circled round to the back of their camp.

They never guard the backs.

I shinnied up the rear of the skull, and crouched low before sniping the two lookouts. The wind and the desert devoured their remains and there was no reclaiming them. Tsch!

Thereafter I stood to drop bombs through one of the eye-holes. The wind made this tricky, but with a little trial and error I found a good position, and watched as the life-meters below me reacted, converged, and were blown in all directions, over and over again.... I played this game until they were all dead, and thankfully, the bits leftover were less blustered and more contained inside the den.

I didn’t have room for the actual treasure inside the chest, though.

Oh well.

I harvested what I could from the Limbo Den, and made my way back from nothing to nothing; I hit the border, and started skirting southward again.

The air was a shifting array of dull colors all mashing together, darker beneath, lighter above. Somewhat.

Thank goodness for these Sand Boots at least....

I jogged.... and jogged.... and jogged....

And there was another shape to my left.

This one was.... geologically improbable. A great dark bow loomed from some large mass on the right, and arced unsupported through the air to the left, pointing north.

That had to be—BUT FIRST—

I hurried. Further southward. More creatures, more critters, Lizalfos burrowing through the sand.... I bumped to the right again—the border was still there—and then came the same abrupt chime—and I was brought to a halt.

I had come to the farthest point.

I had reached the corner.

So had the Lizalfos.

I cut them down, and the leftover bits rolled away unreachable in the gale. I might have been able to grab a talon or something....

The big shape with the bowhead still loomed darker than the surrounding grit. I could have approached it from this new angle, but.... instead I followed the western edge of the world back north, until I was even with the bow again. And I stepped eastward out of the storm....

As the air cleared, the great skull came into view. The bow-shape resolved into the enormous upper jaw, the entirety of it from cranium to nose-tip longer and thinner and more streamlined than that of the other Leviathan had been, the one on the volcano. That one had been broader, heavier-looking, more armored, like some giant horny toad.

But this one looked a proper whale. And the entire skeleton was smooth and bleached, whereas the other had been so weathered and darkened that in places it looked more like stone.

And there was another difference—round about where the scapulae might be, the long bones of some right-side limb jutted up from the spine at a high angle—sticking right up into the sky!

What in the—?

Was this . . . .

Was this a WINDFISH?

The mouth was open, the lower jaw buried deep into the sand. And—there was something—

There was a Gerudo! Kneeling directly before the open mouth as if in prayer to a deity.... she was so tiny before it....

Who....?

I approached her.

It was Barta.

“Barta!” The one who had been imprisoned before!

“Ugh,” she groaned, “Are you... a fairy? An angel? Are you here to guide my passage?”

She wasn’t kneeling out of awe or respect; she was clinging onto her spear for dear life, resting in the shade of the bowheaded jaw. “...Everything’s going hazy... This might be the end...”

“Snap out of it!” I said.

But she only moaned, “Ahh... If only I could’ve eaten a hearty durian one last time... A hearty durian... A hearty durian...”

I spoke to her again.

“Ahh, spirits of the Goddess... Before you take me from this world, if I could just taste fruit... Just one last bite of a hearty durian...”

And here I was given two choices of response, and I laughed at the cruel polarity: “Take this!” or “Good-bye.”

“Take this!” I said, and the screen blacked out and back in.

Barta stood on her feet now. “Hah... I’ve returned from the brink of death thanks to you...” she gasped, “Sarqso!”

Then she saw me more clearly—“Huh? Is that you I spoke to before? So you are actually a voe... I thought you were a bit muscular for a Hylian vai.”

XD

“But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I owe you my life, after all!”

Ah, so many Gerudo ladies who’d found me out already. Felt kinda nice to be real.

“Hah... Anyway,” Barta continued, “I’m totally exhausted. Maybe I’ll rest just a little longer then head home.”

I was given only one response to say: “Your boss was MAD.” It was not untrue. Liana and her other subordinates.... had been quite agitated the last time I’d seen them in the barracks.

“Huh? So...they knew I snuck off...”

I nodded.

“...Oh, I am in such trouble...” Barta muttered under her breath. “Yep, looks like I’d better go on ahead. See you later and sav’orq!”

And the screen blacked out again, and when it came back, Barta had gone.

Is sav’orq another form of thanks? Or is it perhaps an expression of farewell? Someone else had said it to me when I’d turned down some business or other. But if that’s what it were, then Barta would have been repeating herself. Does it regard rather the time of day?

Hmm.

I hoped she wouldn’t catch it too bad from Liana. Then again, maybe that would have been good for her.

I turned to check out the skeleton—the shrine beneath it and near to the skull was called the Hawa Koth Shrine, and it was the awesomest shrine ever, with much electricity and GIANT GEARS to play with.... It was like the sparky younger cousin of Kaam Ya’Tak....

But that wasn’t what interested me the most.

After I’d locked down the warpable, I turned to the large, thrumming, pulsing cocoon a stone’s cast down-whale....

There was a FAIRY FOUNTAIN BENEATH THIS THING.

....

AND THE GREAT FAIRY TERA WANTED TEN THOUSAND RUPEES?

. . . .

Oh boy....

. . . . . . .

And I was.... just about skint-broke....

. .  .   .    .     .      .

I needed to go make me some cash.