[IC] .:: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕒 - 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ::.

[Baklava]

The Hero of Time Festival

Music

7:45 AM | Kakariko Village

As the sun peeked over Death Mountain, the snug little homes of Kakariko Village, brightly decorated with green, basked in the golden morning light. Further in the distance, one could easily spot Hyrule castle; it stood tall and proud with it’s purple flags whipping in the wind. From atop Kakariko’s beautiful windmill, one could just barely glimpse the ocean of trees that made up the Lost Woods and Kokiri Forests. As always, those mystical woodlands remained timeless and green, but for the rest of Hyrule, a warm, glorious array of colors flooded the land during this time of year as a humble reminder that, just as the green-clad young hero had once mysteriously departed from Hyrule, spring was coming to an end.

The crunching of autumn leaves under small, young feet echoed about in the empty alleyway. A young boy, garbed in a green tunic and leather boots stepped into the sunlight at the end of the shady alleyway, squinting his blue eyes and shielding them with the most fantastic looking of shields— only ever seen on the forearms of knights these days. In his other hand, the boy gripped a beautifully crafted sword with a purple hilt. He rose it above his head, allowing it to catch the light as he filled his lungs with air, prepared to say something, it seemed….

Before he could do any such thing, however, the hand of a spindly old woman, also garbed in a seemingly unnecessary amount of green, grasped the boy’s sword arm and gave him a hard jerk, causing the thin, poorly crafted sheet of metal to fall out of his hand. “What did I say about reflecting the sun into people’s eyes, Jun-Roberto?!” she scolded. The young boy simply frowned in a rather indignant manner, brushing a strand of his long brown hair out of his eyes. “Don’t think I won’t take it away if you don’t behave!”

The streets of Kakariko Village were crowded with merchants hustling to and fro, ensuring that all their wares were in place and properly priced. Banners of green and gold overlooked the more congested parts of the town near the entrance and the well. The sweet sound of various instruments wafted over the crowds along with the many scents radiating from many of the vendor’s stalls. The bakeries were teeming with all sorts of goods for the Hero of Time feast that afternoon. Entertainers swarmed near the well with empty hats, eager to fill them and earn some quick rupees. Young children weaved excitedly through the throng— most of them dressed very similarly to how the Hero of Time was said to have looked while others simply wore green. They chattered among themselves, acting out daring adventures and eagerly discussing the games and activities that would soon begin.

The buzz of the town only increased as Sir Orca Halbert came marching through the town entrance-- straight from Castle Town. The crowd parted as the tall, well-groomed and sturdy man, flanked by two guards, stepped briskly forward. He wore eloquent gold armor from head to foot and, atop his head, a golden helmet of intricate design. Set into dark, tanned skin, were a pair of intense forest green eyes and two long, parallel scars wrapping around his cheek and chiseled jaw. He was a renowned hero among the people as well as a personal favorite of the Royal Family. His title did not precede his skills with a blade, however. He was undoubtedly one of the most skilled warriors in all of Hyrule… if not, perhaps, also one of the most pretentious.

Although Sir Halbert's rank as a Hyrulian Knight was far beyond that of a simple guard, the Royal Family had been appointing him as the official overseer of the Hero of Time festival for many years. With so many different races gathering in one place, the King wanted to absolutely ensure it would be an event celebrating peace and unity-- that meant petty squabbles and mischief needed to be kept to a minimum and handled with the utmost care. He put on a personable grin and shook hands with those that approached him. The Royal Family wouldn't be arriving until noon, though the festivities would be well underway by then.

The Fairy

Music

Across the blazing morning skyline of Kakariko Village flitted the tiniest sliver of indigo light— unnatural in both movement and color. Upon closer inspection and through squinted eyes, the small orb of white and indigo light housed what appeared to be a small woman only slightly larger than one’s middle finger. If you were willing to risk overexposing your eyes you might even notice a pair of shining gold irises betwixt her indigo bangs, long, pointed ears, and translucent, insect-like wings.

She was much more natural than the bustling multitudes below, however… filled with fat, sticky children wearing traditional Kokiri garb; most of them rotten little creatures with a never-ending sense of self-entitlement to every single little thing that catches their fancy. Lethe knew this only because she had experienced it first hand. Well, perhaps she was a little bias, but after searching for almost two years (all the while being grabbed, jarred, and nearly squashed) you probably would be a little bias, too.

“Stupid… little… why did I even fly down there in the first place…,” she muttered, cursing herself with words she knew she ought never say aloud. She had spotted a young child crouching in an alleyway— seemingly in distress, or so Lethe had supposed. Playing hide and seek and giggling quietly to oneself could convincingly make someone look as though they were sobbing from so high up and far away. It’d taken her a good half an hour just to get the sticky sugar out of her long indigo hair and the fine threads of her tea length dress….

As for her reason for being in town at all during such a dreadfully crowded day….

Lethe perched herself atop the look out tower where a languid guard snoozed with his head in his hands. It was her favorite place to rest whenever she was in town. As a member of one of the smallest races in Hyrule, she found it amusing to look down on everyone. Not to mention, it was particularly helpful when it came to people finding. Today, however, she was looking for quite a few people rather than just one— some of which she wasn’t sure she really wanted to find at all. Nursing her long indigo tresses, she released an indignant snort. I’m not even sure I would consider some of these ‘people’ people at all, she thought wryly to herself.

In spite of her feelings, however, these were orders from the Goddess herself and after being exiled for such a long time, Lethe knew she oughtn’t pass up this opportunity to redeem herself. Diving from the wooden railing of the tower, a tail of disjointed fragments of light trailed behind her. Difficult to spot for anyone that wasn’t looking up or over the village from a higher vantage point, Lethe flew steadily past the windmill and towards the entrance to the graveyard. Those who did spot her would very likely wonder at the rare, unusual site of a fairy so far from the Lost Woods or a fairy fountain.

With her mind so heavily considering the matter at hand, Lethe was soon scarcely paying any attention to her other surroundings. Namely the lurking figure in the shadows-- a lanky being in a deep purple cloak with a long wooden staff and pale legs and bare feet protruding from a long, dingy looking tunic. The dark mouth of the figure's hood followed the fairy from an alleyway for some time before, with the passing of a festival-goer, it completely vanished-- the memory of it's presence like no more that ghostly vision.

Lethe perched herself on top of the graveyard sign, hiding behind a mass of thick ivy that had made it's home there. “And now we wait,” she grumbled impatiently, her eyes sweeping across the empty graveyard. For a moment, her eyes focused on the gated entrance to the Shadow Temple just beyond the secret passage to the Royal Family's Tomb.

As one would approach the steep precipice, overlooked by the Shadow Temple and tall wooden palisades, a spell of sagacity would quickly become overwhelming. The temple practically radiated with misfortune and doom—elements one normally didn’t sense yet somehow they seemed to tangibly pollute the air. It was the sole reason why the graveyard was always so infested with fog-- even on a bright, sunny morning such as this.

An unnatural wind jostled the undressing branches of the trees that crowded the area surrounding the place. The reason no guards were ever stationed outside its walls went hand in hand with the reason people rarely ever ventured within a few feet of the Shadow Temple. It was excruciatingly clear why. Some inexplicable force naturally seemed to be acting as a deterrent and one could feel it pushing at one's mind, persuading you to keep your distance. Even from her position, Lethe could feel the dark magic reaching out to her in response to her focusing on it.

Irritably blinking away the feeling, Lethe turned her attention to the graveyard's entrance.

ησω...

The voice of the Goddess spoke clearly in her mind, echoing as if it were the only sound in the largest room in the world.

тнєу αяє ¢σмιηg!

The Graveyard

Music

¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂.

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу.

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....

[Dervish]

Cue Theme!

Kakariko Village, ancestral home of the legendary Shiekah Tribe, border town between the Gorons of Death Mountain and the Hyrule Royal Family in Castle Town, and now the temporary residence of an untold number of festival attendees...

And that dog.

The ridiculous mutt was a sight to behold, alright. Its legs resembled aquatic cattails, stumpy brown and white fur that was so puffed out that they looked like cylinders with no visible feet attached to a sausage shaped spotted body with an equally ridiculous tail, and a small squat head with a jaw that didn't seem to ever fully close, drooping ears, a pair of lower canine teeth that almost reached the upper lip, and two small black eyes that rounded out the appearance of the mutt to being quite possibly the dumbest creature in the lands, and that included presumably brainless creatures like Like-Likes and the man that was currently trying to climb the windmill. Of course, for Lev, the creature was an annoyance because it was the only living thing in the town that seemed to have paid him any attention, and was currently standing between him and the barrels of fireworks that he intended to detonate.

It wasn't that Lev was malicious, far from it, because if he were the dog would have been set ablaze by now, but rather he was feeling festive and feeling the inclination of watching the chaos of several dozen questionably stable explosives the Gorons provided for this event all detonated simultaneously and without being properly anchored first. For a dead creature, it certainly would liven up the party, and maybe, just maybe, out of the chaos, a particularly heroic sort would come and combat the cascading barrels of Dodongo-like flame and burning projectiles to save the plump little children from the least threatening cataclysm since ten minutes ago when Lev unlatched a Cucco enclosure and the birds were starting to realize freedom was at hand.

In Lev's eyes, the inclusion of panic-inducing fireworks incidents to the veritable time bomb of those horrible little creatures' presence could only make the evening even better, and while it would have been doubtless horrible for so many people, some less than adventurous sorts would claim that it would ruin the entire evening they were otherwise going to spend on rigged festival games and on overpriced food that was probably made up of goat slurry and pine cones, most people would proudly boast that yes, they were here at this most remarkable festival to remember.

And the only thing preventing such a glorious thing from occurring was this stupid, stupid dog.

"Go, eaaat!" Lev hissed, his lantern set down on a table while the rest of him was invisible to wandering eyes, and the Poe stared the blank-eyed, yappy dog down. Sitting all around him were three sausages Lev had pilfered from one of the dozen or so stands exclusively dedicated to selling meat, and the dog refused to accept his peace offering, at least long enough to stop barking while Lev set his lantern against that really tantalizing wick that was dangling from a gap between wooden planks that made up the barrel's circumference.

Of course, tormenting the living and having standoffs with dogs weren't the reasons Lev had found himself in this festival today, although there was a chance he would have swung by on his own accord had he learned of its existence from other sources than a voice in his mind nagging him to go to the graveyard during the festival for the Hero of Time, the green character that saved Hyrule and had his story recounted enough times from so many people and so many books that Lev could recite it perhaps as well as the alphabet and Anne Fossiway's Tales of the Crypt: A Collection of Hauntings, Peculiarities, and the Dead, which was one of the first tomes Lev came across when trying to figure out exactly what he was, sometime in the last century when the King was about 200 pounds overweight and was rumoured to have perished after his horse's legs gave out under the weight, he rolled down into a ravine and was asphyxiated by a Deku-Baba that tried to consume the portly royal and in turn got stuck and died of starvation because it could not open or close its fiendish jaws again.

It was absolutely Lev's favorite story.

And so, while the other Poes that Lev knew for a fact were haunting the graveyard and were probably hoping for some hapless fool to get within swinging distance, Lev was in the middle of it all, trying to avoid mortal eyes while blending in among them, all because some feminine voice he was certain was not of his own conjuration told him to be here. How long had it been? He'd been here since sundown the night before, and already the rising sun had cleared the far horizon, illuminating the town and the river that bisected Hyrule Field down below with brilliant morning flare. Lev hated it.

Deciding that the voice was a fluke and he might have in fact been imagining it, Lev decided to make his move, the dog be damned, and go ignite that wick, when an overwhelming familiar voice filled his consciousness;

¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂.

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу.

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....

The suddenness and the volume of it all startled Lev, an impressive feat at that, that he momentarily forgot what he was doing before realizing that something was tugging on his cloak...

"NO, GET! OFF! BAD VERMIN!", he shouted at the dog, swatting ineffectually at the creature that was hanging from his scraps of clothing with unexpected dedication. Heads were turning; this was not good.

Lev managed to shake the dog loose after managing to strike its rump, where it took off with a startled yelp to its owner, who was now looking around in Lev's general direction. And just like that, a voice in Lev's head ruined absolutely everything.

The Poe managed to float away as fast as he could manage, stealth be damned, and soon found himself at the gates of the graveyard, a couple startled voices and a particularly girlish shriek from a man in his early 40s in his wake. Lev was rather irritated, wondering exactly who or what was inside. He'd have words with them, although the nature of said words would depend largely on if the voice's owner was a mighty Great Fairy, or a goblin of a woman who knew a few tricky spells and somehow figured out how to communicate with the dead from all the way to Ordon Village, where Lev was trying to figure out exactly the large man was trying to do by wrestling with a goat.

Not immediately seeing anyone in the vicinity, Lev felt a ringing sense of disappointment. "I will have you know, whoever you are, you ruined a perfectly planned evening!" he called, his voice cackling in the wind. One of the perks of being a ghost in a grave yard was no matter what you said, no matter how ineffectual or ridiculous, it still sounded incredibly spooky.

And so, without materializing, Lev set himself over a grave, lantern bobbing gently in the morning breeze for whoever it was to show.

[Bright_Ops]

Theme

Not everywhere in Kakariko Village was populated by people. In fact, there was at least one stand among the rest that people appeared to be avoiding!

There was a stall that seemed to have been made from a strange, dark wood that had a tarp drapped over the top of it as a roof to provide shade which seemed to create shadows that were far deeper then they had any right to be at the back of the counter. There was nothing on the counter itself, but on the front of the stall were two signs in completely different languages. The first sign, written in passable Hyrulian, simply said 'Custom Enchantments'. The second one however seemed to have been written in a language that was completely foreign to the lands of Hyrule, but that exotic nature also gave it a strange beauty that drew the eye... through the gaze of the average bystander would quickly dart away again at the sight of the... person who owned the stall.

Magus stood silently as he gazed out at the world of light and the various peoples in it, whatever facial features he might have had hidden from view by the black cloak that covered his whole body. While a part of him hated the fact that he had been forced to create a stall out of some timber he had... come across the night before and given a small enchantment to change the color and texture of in order to make a stall, the sad truth of the matter was that he was broke and required some of the local currency if he wished to continue surviving here... and if he desired to get to the bottom of the mystery that was the strange woman that was speaking in his mind, resources wouldn't be a bad thing.

Of course, that was kind of hard to do when people weren't coming to the stall...

¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂.

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу.

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....

'Blinking' a little internally as the voice spoke to him once more, Magus mentally asked back 'Why?' through he doubted that he would get an answer. He hadn't so far after all. It seemed that whatever was interested in getting him to do its bidding either didn't have two way communication or didn't care to have a conversation with him. Under normal circumstances he would have chalked the whole thing up as some kind of trap, through somewhat strange when one factored in the meeting place being heavy with a strange but familiar kind of magic, but the method that the voice had used to contact him spiked his curiosity. Trap or no, he was going to have to go in order to find any kind of answers... and possibly get the intruder out of his head.

With movements that sounded rather wooden, Magus removed a third, smaller sign from below the counter before hanging it over the front of the stall that simply said 'On Break' before he started the surprisingly short journey through the crowed street; Be it the fact that he walked in the same manner as a noble in that he moved like he owned the place or the fact that he was terrifying to beyond, people tended to move out of the way for him. It made getting to places rather quick and easy.

Crossing the threshold of the graveyard, Magus silently looked around to see if he could spy what it was he was meant to find while he quietly tested the magic that attempted to wash over him the moment he had arrived. While it wasn't the Twili branch of magic that he was familiar with, it was similar enough that if push came to shove he felt confident that he could channel it to his purposes.

There was something that drew his gaze through; A lantern that appeared to be floating on its own. One of the ghostly creatures that he had encountered a few times on the road at night no doubt, through the fact that it was morning made him curious about its presence here now... but not enough to go investigate just yet. If it attempted to attack him through, he would be ready for it.

@Dervish@Baklava

[DearTrickster]

Theme

“So I said to him, hehehe, I said. ‘You’re gonna be real disappointed ya know.’ Then the blustering man looks redder than a tomato.”

Blue and green rupee cards fanned out before the skullkid’s eyes, her eyes seemingly scanning them thoughtfully.

“He goes on to say, ‘how do you mean?’ in this stuffy castle town accent. I said, ‘’Cause you’re gonna be ponying up your favourite pair of shoes for this!’ Then I pull out this slimy, stinky piece of garbage that I had managed to fish out of the canal, his once beloved belt buckle. Hahahaha! His face was priceless!”

The deku baba she was playing cards with snapped again just out of range from where she was sitting cross legged. The light wind caused by the snapping plant flipped a card revealing what Jillian thought would be the card it picked. When the deku baba retracted growling, Jillian plucked the flipped over card and placed it on the pile.

“Good choice. Now you went and stumped my play.” Jillian said pursing her blue lips over pointed teeth. She rubbed her shortened nose across her sleeve. She glanced up over her cards, “Now I know this ain’t no place for you. It’s dry, no grass, probably no rain. But! Don’t worry. I got your back.”

She placed her one card with a single blue rupee painted on it. They were a set of cards she had made for herself out of pulp wood shavings. It took a few hours for them to dry and cut them into rectangle shapes while a little ‘paint’ she used from muddled berries and grass.

Not really sure what sort of game she was playing, something she saw adults in Castle Town playing and tried to copy it. The deku baba snapped again startling her a little. Even with plans to make it to Kakariko Village today, the skullkid was distracted by boredom. Taking an alleged break from the tedium of lonely travel.

“Alright alright. It’s fine, I accept your humble defeat. You’re a good sport. I gotta get goin’ anyway. Heading to that big party for whatshisface, the uh, Hero of Time.” She said with a nervous giggle gathering up the cards and stuffing them into her knapsack. Then pulling out a small sign reading in sloppily written Hylian.

“Pretty please Water”

Carefully she approached the deku baba, a resounding guttural snarl rumbled out of the plant. She watched it with red yellow eyes holding the sign in front of her. The plant snapped it’s huge head filled with razor sharp teeth again, Jillian dodged then quickly tied the sign around it’s base. Running clear of it’s next attack coming close to losing her hat. When she was out of it’s range she checked her beige well worn pointed hat for bite marks.

Her choppy blue hair shades darker than her blue skin was flat at the base of her head and seemed to stick out of its own will along her face. Ears pointed and pierced with little bits of metal she salvaged from her travels across Hyrule.

Satisfied she replaced her hat snuggly pulling it down on her head. Slinging her spellbook over her shoulder and then her knapsack, Jillian scooped up the handle of her unlit lantern. Whistling an off key tune as she continued walking along smoothed and dry path to Kakariko Village.

---

Hero of Time Festival - Mid Morning

Shortly after arriving the festivities were in full swing, rows of stalls in the mini market selling an assortment of knick knacks and food stuffs. Noise, laughter and chatter filled the air. Kids were running rampant dressed in green and faces painted chasing down over a dozen cuccos. Jillian felt right at home amidst the fun chaos. About to join in the race for the escaping cuccos the very same voice that urged her to leave the anxiety ridden Lost Woods, spoke again.

¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂.

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу.

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....

Jillian looked longingly at the chase and pouted stomping away toward the graveyard. Promising herself she’d be the first to catch a cucco whenever the stuff she was being urged to attend to in the graveyard was done with.

She cut through the crowds and the festival. Earning strange glances and some glares. The glares were returned with her sticking out her tongue at them, she scurried off before they could catch her. When she arrived to the graveyard she climbed the sign for a better vantage noting the eerie morning fog hadn’t burned off yet. She squinted seeing a lit lantern floating on its own. She figured it must of been a poe, she’d seen plenty on her trips throughout Hyrule. Poe’s hanging around a graveyard wasn’t anything new. They often ignored her even after approaching them.

She saw the other heavily hooded figure standing near by a tombstone and she couldn’t quite tell what they were exactly. She’d have to ask.

Hopping off the sign and landing deftly on her feet with a soft thud she approached. She came up directly to the heavily cloaked person (assumingly a person) then said, “Why’re you here? How come your eyes are all glowy blue? Didja hear the voice tellin’ you to come here too? What do you look like under the cloak?”

She cocked her head then stepped up to the Poe’s Lantern clinking her lantern against it. “You guys are real spooky.”

[Baklava]

Theme

“This is ridiculous!"

Her failed attempt not to flinch seemed to only encourage the enraged man as the bass was slapped down on the counter before her.

"You're delusional if you think I'm gonna pay that much for one lousy bass!”

Well... that's half true. I suppose I am a little delusional... she mused, waiting miserably for the man to finish his ranting and raving. She should have made sure he had properly read the prices before scaling and deboning it. She rubbed her thumb along the slimy handle of her cutting knife, staring at the 'Be a Legend!' pin the man was wearing on his vest. A legendary pain... she half smiled to herself. Oops.

"You think this is funny, fishwife? Are you even listening to me? I DEMAND you give me a fair price for this fish!"

Felicia stifled a yawn as she glanced over the booth— several fish were laid out to sell as well as a few of her specialty lures. The fish prices were indeed high. Normally Felicia would be ashamed, but with the major supply and demand problem that had been going on at Lake Hylia lately… she had little choice. She’d already been verbally attacked for closing her fishing pond to the public due to so many people taking advantage of it. If she’d kept it open one more week, Felicia was certain it would have become nothing more than a large, barren, oversized puddle. She stifled yet another yawn.

"I'm really sorry, sir, but I can't do that. This is the cheapest price I can afford to sell them at," she said, looking gloomy as ever.

Perhaps it was pity or perhaps the man was simply tired of arguing. He slid 120 rupees across the counter and sighed loudly. "This is gonna be my last fish for a loooong time," he grumbled, not looking her in the eye as she wrapped it up in paper and handed it to him. She frowned, blinking irritably as he walked away. He didn't have to buy it.

Linda, the enthusiastic young teen she’d hired to help, gave her a concerned sideways glance as she tried to make the prices sign more visible, “Are you alright, miss? You look crazy tired. Are you tired?”

The answer was yes without a doubt. The luxury of a good night’s sleep had once again eluded her. Felicia felt certain that her mind was really coming undone now. Every night for the last month— the same voice. The same message. And the same inexplicable feeling in her gut that told her not to ignore it.

“I’m fine,” Felicia muttered, absentmindedly scratching her shoulder. Linda shot her a doubtful look, to which Felicia attempted to reassuringly smile— something she really appeared to be getting rusty at doing. The disturbed creasing of Linda’s brow only seemed to confirm this. “Anyways… why don’t you go ahead and take a look around before it gets really busy and prices start to go up. I’ll take the first shift…. Hey Kamo!”

Felicia called to a young, skinny, dark haired man staring up at the sky and leaning up against her cart, which was a ways behind all the stalls where most of the vendors were instructed to leave them. “Do you want to check out the booths with Linda?” The boy glanced at his pretty blue-haired coworker before quickly shaking his head no and turning away. Felicia noticed the slightest trace of red in the boy’s ears, but said nothing, simply turning back to Linda. “Go ahead,” she shrugged, to which Linda thanked her gleefully and absconded to see the many wares.

Felicia took a seat in the shade behind her booth, drumming her fingernails on the counter just behind the sign that read “FRESH FISH! Only 50 rupees for a small!” Kamo soon joined her, sitting as still and quiet as ever, as they watched the crowd begin to thicken.

“A lot of people collect things as a hobby,” Kamo commented suddenly as he and Felicia observed a spindly woman towing a resentful young green-clad lad behind her whilst she attempted to purchase what looked like a very expensive plate. “Me, I just like to sit and gaze up at the night sky. That's all the hobby I need."

“I can’t wait for this day to end either,” Felicia responded, well accustomed to her employee’s cryptic manner of speech. With the setting of the sun, perhaps Felicia would finally be able to sleep through the night for once in a long while. She didn’t need anything else enhancing the dark circles underneath her eyes.

That was when it happened. Like the chiming of a bell, but in voice form, she suddenly leaned forward in her seat, her eyes unfocused as it filled her mind, blocking out all thought.

¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂.

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу.

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....

Kamo gave her a slight look of concern as she stood up suddenly. It seemed her day was only just beginning.

[Captain Jenno]

¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂.

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу.

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....

Theme

"So explain to me why we’re doing this again," Archer asked, for the seventh time that long, bustling morn.
They were wading through festival goers, bright, lively and oft not paying attention to their purses at all. Archer, reformed only in his brother’s watchful red eye, was unamused by how easy he might have turned a profit.
They were pacing up towards a narrow path, the stretch of silent green which broke the line of sight between Kakariko and the graveyard beyond. One of them vibrant, and lively, especially today – the other a place of stillness. Of death.
Zephyrus was totally serene about this: as calm and mild as the breeze. Archer, however, had been on edge for the best part of a month. This, he had concluded after a long talk with himself in the mirror, was madness. Complete and utter.
"I feel like I needn’t," Zephyrus replied, nodding politely to a bemused Hylian child as he passed them by, "You have both seen and heard everything that I have."

"That’s just it! Are we really headed to a cemetery because a voice in my head said we should? That’s crazy!"
"I heard them too, brother."
"Hey, I hear it runs in families!"
Zephyrus slowed their pace to a crawl, then a stop, and gazed into Archer’s eyes with the sort of guilt-inspiring look only a pacifist could give. No tears, no quivering lips: just disappointment, radiating out from his unwavering red stare.
"Our dreams have brought us here, and now our thoughts will guide us onwards. Have you no faith?"
"In the voices I hear in my head? What sort of question is that?"
Zephyrus shook his head. How disappointing.
"You must learn to trust, Archer. The river does not ask why it must meet the ocean, it knows only that it must."
"Yeah? If water’s so smart, why’s it let me drink it?"
"I’m not even going to dignify that with a response."
"Milk, that’s the liquid to learn from. Curdles at the first sign of trouble."
"Your heroism is met only by your valour," Zephyrus chastised, sardonically but nonetheless in his usual, unwavering tone.
"Hey, I never signed up to be a hero, okay? Is this what heroes do?"
"Heed the call?"
"No. Do whatever the voices in their heads tell them to. Do you do everything the voices in your head tell you to do?"
"I don’t often have voices in my head, Archer."
"… huh."
"Do y—"
"No. What? No. Shut up. What? Let’s just get this over with."

Zephyrus stared down at him in silence for a few moments. Archer looked back defiantly, although with a height disadvantage it did nothing but confirm to Zephyrus that he was, in fact, a petulant child.
"Contain your enthusiasm," the elder brother murmured, before they continued on their path.
Soon they breached the membrane of the festival, and filtered out towards the quieter corner of town. Cuccos crowed restlessly from their pens, away from the noise of the fete. They had the right idea, thought Archer: he was considering screaming, too.

"It’s dead over here," he noted, aloud.
"Everybody is involved with the festival."
"That’s right, there is a festival going on today! In fact, you should be going and saying hello to… what’s his name… Halibut, shouldn’t you?"
"Halberd? You loathe Halberd."
"What? No! I just love his… speeches? Is that what he does? I feel like that’s what he does."
"Last we spoke of him, you called him a pontificating dunce."
"I said ‘pompous asshole’, and that was before I learned to appreciate his… again, is it speeches? You’ve gotta give me something to work with, here. Something with swords? Is he the mayor?"
"You don’t know who governs Castle Town?"
"I… yes. Of course I do."
Zephyrus quirked a sceptical brow.
"It’s, you know… somebody else. Not Halberd. Or it is Halberd? Please emote once, you’re giving me nothing here."
Zephyrus sighed heavily, and creased his brow. Momentarily, he cast his eyes skyward.
"I know they chose you, but I can’t imagine why."
"Right? Me neither! I’ll just get out of your hair."

Archer turned to make a hasty retreat, took three steps South, then realised that Zephyrus had him firmly by the collar.
"You cannot leave now: fate has cast the die."
"I cheat every time I gamble."
Zephyrus tightened his grip. Archer smiled sheepishly at him from over his shoulder.
"Which is… never?"
"Come on," Zephyrus tugged him back towards their destination.

Although Archer lagged greatly behind, they eventually found the path they sought. A stretch overlooked by ledges, a ribbed valley that ought to have funneled the town’s racket. Instead, it was quiet, and still.
Archer didn’t like it at all: "This is a great plan. One of your best."
"Why do I get the feeling that was insincere?"
"Well, I said it with scorn and derision, so."
"Ah. Naturally."
Zephyrus laid his foot over the line, and then- too close now to surrender- the two pushed onwards.

Theme

[Introducing one of the DM's official NPCs!]
A shuffling sound then drew attention to a somebody atop the rocky cliff face that made up the shallow chasm of the graveyard path. In a blur of signal orange and midnight blue, the person leapt with great dexterity off the edge and into the sunlight. Upon landing on the path just before Archer and Zephyrus, it became immediately obvious that the person before them was a shiekah.

The shiekah wore standard black and blue shiekah armor-- unremarkable, but practical nonetheless. A long signal orange scarf, wrapped around their head and pinned at the shoulders, spilled behind them almost like a tail as they landed with barely a sound. Bandages engulfed the stranger’s forearms and hands and a pair of intricate twin blades, one noticeably larger than the other, gleamed at the men from the stranger’s back as s/he faced the other direction. For a moment it almost seemed as though the brothers had gone unnoticed, but such speculations were soon dashed as he—or she-- turned to face them.

Beneath the scarf, bandages could also be seen wrapped around the forehead and crossing over the right eye. The left eye, bright red with long lashes, stared placidly. A black mask completely covered the rest of the strangers face from the bridge of their nose down. The Eye of Truth in red marked their leather breastplate-- eery as ever. It was nigh impossible to determine whether the shiekah was male or female. Their frame was very lean and muscular with legs that seemed to better resemble bamboo poles than human appendages. From what little skin could be seen, they seemed almost sickly fair. Nonetheless, the shiekah seemed to demonstrate strength as they stood there openly, rigid as a tombstone with head held high—taking in the appearance of the pair.

The eye widened with recognition and the shiekah seemed to motion towards the graveyard by looking ahead and looking back. Without a word, they turned once more and took off down the path, crouched and wary—running beneath the shadow of the cliff face beside them.

As they made their retreat, they left the brothers in total, unerring silence.
Archer watched their feats in awe, jaw ajar, eyes narrowed at the retreating outline of their mute, beckoning guide. Zephyrus, stolid, frowned thoughtfully, thin lips pressed into a narrow line.
"I am beginning to empathise with your hesitance, Archer. That, was a bad omen indeed."
Archer, star struck, didn’t respond, not until Zephyrus clasped his shoulder, and motioned for him to keep walking.

"I finally figured out why you’re so gung-ho to do this," Archer eventually mustered, as his rigid form bent to Zephyrus’ will, and the two resumed their journey, "All Sheikah are insane."
"Their name is Griz," Zephyrus explained, beginning that familiar ritual in which he totally ignored whatever it was Archer had been saying, "And even amongst our kind, they are… anomalous."
"Why?"
"They have never spoken a known word to anybody. Even their name is an assumption."
"A mute Sheikah? Goddess, where do I go trade?"
Zephyrus offered him a look that suggested he’d asked himself the same question, more than a few times. Archer cleared his throat, awkwardly.
"So… what? Why is… Griz… a bad omen?"
"It depends on how inclined you are to believe gossip."
"Always and without question."

Zephyrus side-eyed Archer skeptically as he spoke on.
"We are not so inclined to wild bruits, but what little I have heard from other Sheikah would suggest that Griz is a spirit of vengeance, sworn to silence until they can slay their parents’ killer."
"Yikes. Sounds like her life is even more messed up than ours is."
"At least we have each other, brother."
"Yeah, you’re right… she still has it better."

The two lapsed into quietness, and Archer watched as Griz moved on. Dazed by the fluidness of their movement. Their grace and poise.
He smiled, nervously. What was this strange heat, rising in his throat? Surely it was no magic of his.
"Hey, uh… Zeph?"
"Yes?"
"She sure is… lithe, huh? Toned, too."
"I... beg your pardon?"
"Griz. She’s… you know. All… fit, and stuff. And narrow."
"It is expected of Sheikah to be fit,” he explained, missing the point in a way only Zephyrus seemed to be able to, "All of us are in the peak of physical health. Even our elders treat their bodies like temp-"
"Not like that," Archer hissed, and motioned for Zephyrus to lower his already rather quiet voice.
"Oh? Oh. Oh dear."

Zephyrus took a moment to look from Griz, to Archer, and then back again.
"You have a very… peculiar type, Archer."
"What?"
"Griz is hardly a conventional target, is all I mean to imply."
"Target? I’m not hunting her… y’know, yet."
"Your charm truly is fathers."
"Worked on our moms."
"Unfortunately."
A pause. Awkward, unnatural.
"… what?"
“What?”
“You’re being weird. Weirder than usual.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you could be implying, brother.”
“What are you hiding? Is she a black widow, is that it? Am I going to die on our third date?”
“Are you already thinking that far ahead?”
“As we’ve established, I’m very charming-- and don’t change the subject.”
“I assure you, I know nothing of Griz being a ‘black widow’.”
“Then what?”
“It’s just that… hm. Well. Nobody is entirely sure whether Griz is…”
“Into puckish rogues who can perform neat magic tricks on a whim?”
“A woman.”
“What? No, me.”
“No, nobody is sure if Griz is a woman. Their features are rather perfectly androgynous.”
“I’m pretty sure you made that word up.”
“They’re not indicative of gender.”
“But her legs—”
“Like bean poles.”
“Her figure…”
“Without a curve.”
“… this adventure is going to suck.”

Zephyrus tilted his head to the one side, an indicator that he was inclined to agree, now.
“Of course, Griz might not be as interested in you, regardless.”
“What? What are you talkin’ about? I’m a catch.”
“You are an undisciplined child."
“A free spirit, one of my many desirable features.”
“And it is not… conventional, that Sheikah should seek companionship outside of our own kind, either."
“But dad—”
“Was an honourless scoundrel. Perhaps that might be a point in your favour.”
“So I guess he wasn’t all bad. But what you’re sayin’ is that it’s rare?”
“Exceedingly.”

“So what you mean is…” Archer trailed off, as- still walking- he turned away to think aloud, “I’ve got a chance.”
“I wonder, do you listen to me at all when you set your mind to things like this?”
“I should take the plunge, I’m still willin’ to put my money on her bein’ a girl!”
“Archer, father was a Goron.”
“And I’m fit, y’know? I’m good looking…”
“He sold magical utensils to dogs. They were very grateful.”
“Y’know what? I’m going to do it, I’m goin’ to talk to her.”
“He was a travelling eunuch, we are miracle children.”
“Good talk, Zeph – I think I’m gonna go for it!”
Miracle children or not, Zephyrus thought sometimes that he had a saint’s patience. Who else would put up with Archer for so long? Certainly, he imagined, not Griz.

A short walk later, Griz led them straight and true to the graveyard, a place which seemed to ring with the threnody of total silence. A place where even the dead were known to mourn.
In a more literal sense today, perhaps: Zephyrus made note of a lantern’s presence as they entered. A Poe, at this time. Whatever had the Goddesses in store for them?
Griz separated from the Anders brothers the moment they passed the cemetery threshold, breaking off in order to stand sentinel by the gates. Zephyrus, head high, made for the graveyard’s centre: Archer lagged behind, walking backwards so as not to break line of sight with Griz.
“I bet they’re really pretty under that mask."
“I struggle to discern, sometimes, whether that assumption makes you more or less shallow.”
“Oh, definitely more shallow. I’m thinking, like… 11/10.”
“You are a joy.”

Zephyrus watched disapprovingly as Archer broke off, and made his way, without poise or style, to Griz’ side.
“Tell me you drink wine.”

[RBYDark]

'Maybe it's not too late to run back to the Lost Woods and pretend you didn't hear anything?'

Not for the first time that morning did Ekra's doubtful internal monologue speak up. It had begun when she had woken up to finally follow the whispers to the festival they spoke of; it murmured the moment she'd left the Lost Woods and found herself facing the sunny windswept fields of Hyrule; it practically screamed as she had to pass a caravan of Hylians on the path to the festival, keeping her mask on tight and hands under her cloak lest her textured skin be spotted. Now, though, as she gazed through the keaton mask, into the crowded road leading into the festival, the doubts simply spoke with a plan of action.

She was starting to wonder if maybe they had a point.

She swallowed, the mask's impassive face betraying none of her nervousness, and forced herself past the gates into Kakariko Village to join the massive crowd of festival-goers. Security wasn't very heavy - no one demanded to see under her cloak or take a closer look at her bag. That was good. The thought they could do so only occurred to her as she arrived, and she had no simple response to that, beyond slamming a deku nut into the ground and fleeing. Now inside the walls, she glanced around for some other hint as to what was next. The whispers hadn't been terribly exact - only to be here. For what, Ekra hardly knew. It wasn't like the whispering voices answered her frequently-posed questions. No, they'd called her to this place, filled with adults and people and Ekra only had so many seeds and nuts on hand. Trickery would have to be kept restricted, at least to the people who truly deserved it. Boy, was that going to be difficult. It was much easier when it was one or two people traveling a quiet forest road, not a huge crowd of folks with little chance to observe before picking targets.

She took a deep breath and tried to keep to herself. There was no going back now.

She succeeded, for about half an hour. As she grew more accustomed to traveling in the street among people, however, her curiosity overtook her shyness. Many of the sellers kept their wares on their countertop, and, well it wasn't like Ekra knew much about the festival devoted to the Hero of Time - only that he existed, and this party existed for him, even if he couldn't be around for it. Weaving between fellow festival-goers and stepping deftly through narrow gaps between stands and bodies, Ekra began engaging in one of her personal favorite hobbies.

Asking a ton of questions.

"Where'd you get this from?"
"How'd you make this?"
"Is that what the Hero of Time looked like?"
"What's a gah-roo-doh?"
"Why is everyone selling ocarinas?"

Perfectly valid questions. Most of the shopkeepers looked down at her and smiled sweetly before slowly and painstakingly enunciating each word of their explanation and it occurred to Ekra they thought she was just a young child. To a point, yes, but she was 96 - over 96, if she didn't exist only as a skull kid. Some glowered at her and swiftly reclaimed their merchandise out of her hands, through threats or actions. She didn't much care for them, but they were better than the ones threatening to call guards if the 'bratty kid' didn't leave immediately. And then there was the one implying she had good reason to be covered from head to toe due to her true appearance.

Gosh, some people. She was just curious.

She had managed to reach a small weaponsmith shop, examining a set of metal blades with a price far greater than the contents of her wallet, as people bustled by. It was then that the whisper spoke again, with words she had never heard the mental voice say before.

¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂.

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу.

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....

She glanced upward, as if she'd be able to see the mysterious speaker overhead if she turned fast enough. But no, there was only the midmorning sun. Well, that and the words themselves. Finally, something specific to go on! She dropped the blades with a clatter on the stall's surface and stepped back, moving her weight from the tips of her toes to her heels. Right, time to get moving.

Where was the cemetery anyways?

Three seemed to be her lucky number - the first woman disregarded her entirely, the man told her to go ask her parents (as if Ekra hadn't seen enough children wandering around alone! And she was the same size as a kokori! She could've been one, if she wasn't already a skull kid!). The second woman, however, hesitated before indicating to the windmill - past there, and would you like someone to go with you?

"Why, do you hear them too?" Ekra tilted her head. May as well ask.

"...pardon?" The woman, however, didn't seem to get the reference.

"Nevermind. See ya!" And Ekra bounded past her, up to the windmill and cemetery entrance, as fast as her cloak would allow before it threatened to reveal her barklike skin. She hardly wanted to be spotted. Yet, as she arrived and managed to get her first look at the beings among the tombstones - a lantern, a shadow, and... was that another skull kid?

Boy, Ekra worried over nothing, really! Well, maybe. Still the weird whispering and a lot of people back there. And sooner or later, the man would put down his bag and set off the deku nut Ekra had slipped inside. It'd be hard to prove, sure... as long as no one realized she was a skull kid.

[The 42nd Gecko]

Veitaru and Gruncle Jaege

¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂.

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу.

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....

"Er... Are you sure this is alright, I mean I'm older.."

"Nonsense, you are light as a light feather that other feathers carry! And you said time was of the essence, no?"

Veitaru and Jaege came bounding into the graveyard with a bouncy levity that completely defied the dreary and disheartening place. Well, Jaege came bounding, Veitaru clung to his back in a rather frightened/embarrassed piggy-back ride.

"Ah, see you were right, and there are lots of people in the graveyard! Living ones, and dead ones who are still making a good show of living. It is good to finally have proof that you are not going crazy without Dad around, yes?" Jaege raises a hand and turns to look at Veitaru, but...

"Hup.." She had slithered her way off his back and onto the ground, taking cover behind a post.

"Ah, kids these days, always with the pretending to be sneaky Sheikah. Still, I suppose I played the hide and seeks too. So! I should introduce myself, I am Jaege of the Lange family! Pleasure to meet you all." Jaege introduces himself to the group, completely ignoring the atmosphere, and presenting a hand for the shaking, if any so wished to oblige.

"Come on, introduce yourself to the nice people and ghosts, Vei." Jaege turns his head to yell in the general assumed direction of Vei.

"Veitaru. Pleasure." She peeks from around the corner of the post, sticking a tongue out and pulling wide the eyelids on one eye.

[Bright_Ops]

Theme

For a time, Magus enjoyed the quietness that the graveyard provided. Sure there was a poe present, but since it seemed content to leave him alone he wasn't inclined to take any action against the restless dead. Really seemed more like a local problem anyway. Truth be told he could easily understand why the graveyard was largely abandoned by the living; The concentration of dark magic in area that he was bathing in no doubt unnerved and frightened those who were more... light inclined. It was actually somewhat refreshing for him. Reminded him of the Twilight a little...

He couldn't help but question the logic of the Hyrulian's of the village through. The area must have appeared cursed to them... and yet they decided that this was a perfect place to bury their dead for some reason. It was almost as if they wanted to be attacked by the angry undead. Logic dictated that they should have sealed this whole area off and just started a new graveyard elsewhere in order to avoid having great grandma Bertha raising from the grave and trying to tear out little Timmy's throat with her teeth. Then again, Logic didn't seem like a strong suit for the locals to begin with...

Alas, all good things had to come to an end. In this case, the silence was broken by what appeared to be a small child wearing a mask who had walked up to him and started rattling on with questions.

“Why’re you here? How come your eyes are all glowy blue? Didja hear the voice tellin’ you to come here too? What do you look like under the cloak?”

Magus responded to this with complete silence as he waited for the child to stop talking; He had nothing against children per say, but they were something that he preferred to leave in the care of others. Thankfully the plan to just ignore the child until it go distracted worked wonderfully and he waited until the child said that he was 'Spooky' before he spoke up in a voice that sounded like poisonous valet cake "Not only have you failed to say hello, but you also insult me to my face. Many would consider that rather rude, Child."

The child was but only the first to arrive through; A small gathering of hyrulians, small children and a man of large frame and loud voice rather quickly seemed to trickle into the graveyard in short order. He could already feel the headache coming on.

@Captain Jenno@Baklava@DearTrickster@Dervish@RBYDark@The 42nd Gecko

[Dervish]

This was certainly an experience that had nothing in memory to act as a baseline comparison to. At first, the little Skullkid girl, a race Lev had no real prior experience with as he saw no appeal in exploring some dark and mysterious forest that was infamous for getting lost in that Skullkids called home, approached his lantern, tapping upon it with her own lantern, and informing the still-invisible Poe that he was “spooky.”

No fear, just a childish observation that completely undercut the menacing aura that he liked to maintain when dealing with most mortals. If it weren’t so unexpected, it would have been rather irritating. Instead, the situation became somewhat novel, especially since the Skullkid was a creature that like Deku-kind, was rather prone to being inflammable, and Poes were rather famous for starting fires. It was kind of their thing.

Lev’s attention turned to the gateway as more people filed in. Another Skullkid, of all things, and another dark-garbed figure that if one were to profile, would be the kind of individual that was responsible for half the missing children on Lon Lon Milk cartons based on appearance alone, two men roughly the same age and looked similar enough to be cousins. The more serious of the two was a Shiekah, who in annoyingly typical Shiekah fashion, was reserved, wore concealing clothing, and probably were overly serious to the point one could not take them seriously in the slightest. It didn’t help that Shiekah had some shady history going on, including being closely tied in with the Shadow Temple at the back of the very graveyard they occupied, as well as some indistinct business with that well where all sorts of grisly legends existed. The young man in the graveyard probably thought he was saving the royal family or something by being here.

Another baffling pairing came into the yard, a young Gerudo girl and the biggest hulk of a Hylian Lev had ever seen; it was almost impossible to believe if he weren’t looking right at it. The girl with him was probably his adoptive daughter, and she was certainly acting appropriately considering the odd assortments of things residing in the graveyard at that moment. The man was both confident and courteous in speech, a larger than life figure who specifically told his daughter to say hi to the ghosts. So, he knew a Poe when he saw it. It made sense, the guy was old and presumably well-travelled, but still, it was strange that he was being so cordial about it. It was rather strange, but Lev suddenly had stirrings, suddenly sizing the man up. What if they were all being gathered here for an adventure? Would he make a good protagonist? Of course, no one would want to read about an old man who was reaching cane-walking years, perhaps he’d scale him down to a rather dashing 30s, make his hair golden…

Oh, right. The Skullkid.

Since the charade was up, Lev spun in a theatrical flourish, a trail of flame emitting from his lantern, before materializing his form for all to see. Looking down at the Skullkid with pale blue eyes that dominated the black void that was his ‘face’, Lev cackled. ”Oh, I’m the spooky one? That is delightful coming from the living embodiment of a horror fairy tale that parents tell their children to keep them from wandering off on their own. I am but a humble spirit; you’re a twisted little girl that was consumed by a creepy forest that swallows souls and spits out monsters. That’s terrific.” the Poe said cheerfully, floating up a bit to survey the people gathered around.

”So, am I wrong in assuming that we’re all here because a voice in our minds told us to come? Which one of you is responsible?” with an extended flick of a finger towards the dark-cloaked figure that the Skullkid harassed initially, Lev snapped his fingers. ”It bet it was the creepy guy in the brown brooding over there. This better not be a pyramid scheme or selling timeshares.”

[Baklava]

It was quite the parade. One that would surely match the festival's, which was scheduled to occur once the King, Queen, and Princess arrived later that morning. There was no scheduled time. It simply began when they arrived. That's royalty for you.

Lethe's eyes narrowed as she observed the lantern of a poe jauntily bob under the sign on which she stood. Interesting. She didn't know a poe possessed a brain advanced enough to be spoken to, mentally or otherwise. Though that opinion wasn't exactly unique to his kind. She thought that about most creatures and monsters. The fact that it could follow simple instructions was a good sign at least.

The second character to make it's way into the graveyard looked almost as at home as the poe by which he decided to stand, silent and unmoving. Perhaps it was a man, but a vast knowledge of Hyrule and it's many enemies told her otherwise. She could feel it in her gut. Could it be a Wizzrobe? No... there was something unnatural about it's intimidating aura... a Redead, maybe? No, not that--

Just as Lethe felt she was about to place the origin of the strange cloaked figure, a foot came crashing down through the ivy she hid in, nearly squashing her. Shocked into silence, Lethe's brain malfunctioned for a moment as the insolent Skullkid hopped down off the sign to go join the others. Near death experiences didn't happen to her as often as one would think. Her ears burned and she felt rather foolish for letting herself become so distracted. An intense feeling of irritation soon washed over her, however, as she watched the imp proceed to assault the pair with a barrage of less-than-polite questions. The only thing worse than hylian children were hylian SKULL children.

"Not only have you failed to say hello, but you also insult me to my face. Many would consider that rather rude, Child."

The berating of the imp by the mysterious cloak wearer was delicious to witness. Lethe smiled, but only for a moment. She was still feeling quite overwhelmed with the thought that she'd be stuck with that thing throughout the duration of this adventure-- and who knew how long that was going to take.

The following three arrivals helped soothe the headache she felt creeping it's way in the longer she stared at the little leafy-backed imp-- two sheikah and a hylian. Lethe was always adamant about making a distinction between the two. Sure, they were both hylians, but sheikah were a grade well above. To put it simply, it's amazing what a strong dedication to religion and hard work can do for one's overall tolerability. At least for Lethe.

The first sheikah made his way towards the middle group. He seemed... capable. That was the most Lethe could say. The second stood much further from the group, lingering near the graveyard's entrance. He... she?... it was shortly approached by the hylian man. She didn't notice anything particular about him that changed her go-to opinion of most hylians. Obnoxious, prideful, greedy, dirty... the list went on.

“Tell me you drink wine,” he said, to which the one eyed Sheikah only stared. After a moment of what Lethe presumed to be a quite awkward silence, the sheikah leaned up against the pillar attached to the graveyard sign and folded their arms, looking the man up and down for a moment before allowing their gaze to slip towards a cloaked little figure that had just arrived.

Lethe inwardly groaned, Not another one. The untrained eye might see a child, but Lethe knew better. The only thing worse than one Skullkid... was two. Fortunately, the second imp's appearance was closely followed by that of a massive Hylian man, bounding down the path and through the gate with a gerudo child wrapped around his neck and torso. With the hair of a white wolfos and the body of a Darknut, the chipper old man was the first to introduce himself, the gerudo child begrudgingly being the second.

"...I am Jaege of the Lange family! Pleasure to meet you all."

A solid addition to the team, Lethe nodded approvingly.

"Veitaru. Pleasure."

She wished she could say the same for the gerudo child. Lethe once again narrowed her eyes-- a favorite pastime of hers. She hadn't the pleasure of running into many of her kind, but if the disrespectful face the kid was pulling wasn't a good enough indicator, the history of her race probably was. She tried to remind herself that the Great Fairy Navi had to work with a child and did quite well for herself. She really shouldn't be complaining as much as she was... but, by the Goddesses, Navi was in charge of ONE brat. Thus far, Lethe had three.

This was going to be difficult. Patience and understanding-- the two attributes she knew to be most important when dealing with young ones-- happened to be two traits she rather struggled with.

The rarely-heard voice of a poe pulled her from her thoughts.

”Which one of you is responsible?”

Lethe placed her hands on her hips and tapped the small crescent moon ring she wore around her waist. Not everyone was here... should she introduce herself now? Or wait a bit longer?

She sat down, allowing her feet to dangle over the edge of the sign. It could be entertaining to see how they play the blame game-- as well as quite telling. What better way to get to know all these buffoons than to observe them for a bit longer? Time was of the essence and all, but wouldn't it just waste more time to explain herself more than once? Surely the others would be along shortly....

[Baklava]

Felicia stood frozen before the path leading towards the graveyard. Behind her, the festivities loudly continued. Behind her, Kamo manned her stall full of fish by her wagon full of fish from her home, where the business she inherited from her great uncle was slowly but surely on it's way to becoming an empty building with a pool in the back. From behind a nearby house she had just witnessed a number of strange persons enter the graveyard. By the time she'd drawn near, she first saw two men enter, bickering like an old married couple, or perhaps brothers. She imagined them visiting the grave of their mother or father or something like that.

Then there was the child. Felicia didn't want to think about who they might be visiting.

The final pair had been what appeared to be a very limber old man and a little red-headed girl with rounded ears. A gerudo child, perhaps? What Felicia had found more odd, however, was the cheery sort of run the old man had as he dashed down the path and out of sight. It had made her chuckle, she had to admit. Maybe he was paying his wife a visit?

I guess I better see what this is all about, she attempted to mentally coach herself. But if she was being completely honest with herself, she didn't want to go. Maybe she wanted to go a little bit before, but now-- with all those people in there.... Why were so many people headed to the graveyard on a day like today anyway? She'd never taken the Hero of Time Festival to be the sort of holiday you visited dead loved ones on. The thought suddenly occurred to her that she might not have been the only person to hear that voice.

She scratched her shoulder, a nervous habit. But what if that assumption was wrong? How would she find out? She couldn't just waltz up to one of them and say "Hey, have you been hearing a voice in your head? 'Cuz I have!" But if she was right, what were they all supposed to be doing there? In a graveyard, no less? Was it all an elaborate ruse? Were spells like this very common? Should she tell Sir Halbert or one of the guards or something? Exactly how many people had the voice contacted? What if she decided not to go? The questions were practically pouring out her ears. She took a deep breath and adjusted her hat.

The questions were only going to keep coming the longer she stood there. She was suddenly grateful she had decided to take Derrick's old training sword with her. It made her feel a little safer-- just a little. Stifling an inappropriately timed yawn, Felicia stepped forward towards the graveyard. Here we go....

[Chanda]

Transience is basic, and the present is primary. Those things which exist now do not abide. They slip into the past and non-existence, devoured by time, as all experience attests.

A generation or so later we have a classic statement of the opposing view the great Deku scholar, Odolwa:

There remains, then, but one word by which to express the true road: Is. And on this road there are many signs that What Is has no beginning and never will be destroyed: it is whole, still, and without end. It neither was nor will be, it simply is—now, altogether, one, continuous... Permanence is basic. No things come to be or, slipping into the past, cease to be. Past, present, and future are distinctions not marked in the static Is. Time and becoming are at best secondary, at worst illusory, as our understanding of the world confirms.

"You know, sometimes I feel like the more I learn about Deku philosophy, the less I understand," sighed Graham, pulling his hood further over his head to look a little more inconspicuous. He sat cross-legged on an ornate square of rug, fiddling with his boomerang absently. Having developed an acute awareness of the weapon's weight and balancing points, the Subrosian vagrant often took to spinning the thing and flipping it end to end when he felt bored, or anxious, or in this case, both. He'd seen his fair share of festivals since moving to Hyrule, but for some reason the Hero of Time festival seemed to puzzle him the most; perhaps it was because he never grew up knowing about the little forest boy who defied all odds and saved the world. All the Subrosian heroes he'd learned about as a kid had much more... "industrial" backstories. For example, the story of the obedient boy who worked hard in the ore mines and never complained. They didn't remember his sacrifices with a festival, rather, they chose to honor him with more hard work in the ore mines.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand. Hylian scholars have been poisoning the minds of the public for years with this attachment to 'time' and 'the present' and 'personal identity.' We scrubs are one with the earth and the spirit of life that flows through all things, and as such, we do not privilege our perspectives in the grand metaphysical picture of this realm," explained his friend Barako, a deku scrub, resting inside an exotic looking blue deku flower rooted nearby. Unlike the row of five business scrubs nested right outside the town's entrance (lying in wait to ambush festival-goers with various overpriced wares), this old crusty shrub was covered in red and orange leaves, signifying that it had been raised as a wild Mad Scrub rather than as a civilized merchant. Despite looking savage, the old scrub appeared quite calm and tranquil, lazily reclining in his flower and smoking a long pipe filled with bitter-smelling herbs.

"Fair point, although I can't say I've paid much mind to Hylian scholars anyway. How can I respect a system of morality that doesn't center around mining ore? Preposterous," he joked, with a slight chuckle. A crowd of tipsy revelers garbed in green passed by, hushing their conversation as they drew close to the two shady characters seated next to the empty chicken coop across from the graveyard. "You think I should have worn my green cloak today? It just occurred to me that we're not really dressed for the occasion," Graham smirked, with a slight shrug of apathy. "Honestly I had no idea the festival was today. I've been out in the field for... gosh, it must have been two weeks."

"Believe it or not, I don't think wearing a different color of cloak is going to make you any less grotesque to look at," he sneered, puffing on his pipe a little more vigorously as he laughed at his own joke. "Not that you're the only spook hanging around the place today. If I was a betting man I'd say you're not even in the top five ugliest sad sacks here today," he pointed out, with a saccharine tone of faux-reassurance. He reached over to pat Graham on the back sarcastically, but decided against it considering he wasn't even sure if there would be a physical back to pat in the first place.

"You're too kind, Barako. It's always an absolute pleasure to visit you when I'm in town, you know that?" replied the Subrosian, shaking his head as he prepared to stand up and wander off somewhere else.

"Hey, come on don't be like that! I was just kidding. I, for one, think you're a real cutie and I'm sure there are plenty of young ladies out there who'd love to plant a big smooch on the vast empty darkness where your face should be," he chuckled. Graham replied with a curt and austere middle finger before standing up and dusting off his trousers. "Stay and chat a while! Come on, I even have a gift for you. Here, catch!" he pleaded, tossing a small, bright red, spherical object in Graham's direction.

Graham received a Magic Bean!

These brightly colored magic seeds may look unassuming at first, but when they're planted and fully grown, some pretty kooky shit can happen brah.

"Where'd you get this?" asked Graham, examining the little bean more closely. "Aren't these illegal or something? My mom told me that the last guy who ate one of these took his shirt off, sold his house and lived down by the riverfront like a degenerate, eating beans all day long," mused Graham, rubbing his gloved fingers over the smooth outer husk.

"I have my ways. How do you think I compete with all those other cut-rate business scrubs trying to work Kakariko? You have to sell products that people can't get anywhere else. Even if the Royal Family says you're not supposed to sell 'em! What do they know about what's good for people like us? Try one, Graham. I guarantee you it'll be a good time!" urged Barako, ashing his pipe nonchalantly. Graham deliberated for a moment before popping the seed into his "mouth" and returning to his seat alongside the mad business scrub. "That's my boy! Better stay with me for a bit, you don't want to be out and about when that stuff hits. I mean, yikes, kiddo! I didn't think you'd eat the whole thing!" he laughed, shaking his head. Graham responded with a weak chuckle as he finished chewing the bean and swallowed the last of it. What was he getting himself into?

¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂.

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу.

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....

"Oh shit. Oh, hmm, oh, goodness gosh darn! Golly! I think it's already starting to set in. Did you hear that?" asked Graham, looking around fervently for the source of the cryptic message. Barako just laughed, patting his wooden hand against his hollow wooden stomach like a big bongo drum. "Hear what? It's not supposed to kick in for at least a few minutes, pal. You just took it! What a lightweight," he chuckled, stuffing more herbs into his pipe as he eyed Graham suspiciously.

"Yeah, you're right. I must have just gotten spooked or something, I don't know. Maybe I'm losing my mind from something other than psychoactive magic beans," he figured, trying to shake off the eerie sensation of hearing voices in one's head. This hadn't been the first time, but this time around, it was so clear. He made a mental note to look into that after this bean trip was done fucking his shit up... whenever that was.

As if right on cue, Graham and Barako suddenly witnessed a veritable parade of strange looking people flocking to the graveyard: in total, one skull kid, another mysterious cloaked figure much like Graham, two strapping young men (one, apparently, a Sheikah?), a Poe's lantern, and a huge meat mountain of a Hylian man accompanied by a Gerudo girl. From their seat across from the large stone archway leading to the graveyard, the two sat in mostly stunned silence as the freaks just kept pouring in. Meanwhile, Graham was starting to feel a bit of lightheadedness creeping on. The bean was working its magic. "So, maybe I'm just pretty beaned out right now... but that just happened right? All of it? Right?" he asked, looking to Barako for support.

"See what I mean? There's no way you're the creepiest vagrant hanging around today. You're going to need to step up your creepy game if you want to stay relevant," grinned the scrub, although the Subrosian seemed more concerned with the mass exodus to the graveyard than his friend's jeers. Graham stood up quickly, holstering his boomerang as he prepared to follow the crowd. "Woah there, hey there, woah there, pal. Slow down a second. I don't know if you're ready to handle what's coming to ya, kiddo! The red beans are the strongest ones!"

Where will you be when the beans hit?

Graham paid Barako no mind as he hurried off towards the cemetery, feeling a bit dizzy as he tried to walk there in a straight line (emphasis on tried). As he passed under the stone archway he fell in behind another strange character who seemed to be making their way to the same place. She was obviously a Sheikah, although she seemed a bit more bookish than your average servant of the royal family. A set of thick, owl rimmed glasses rested in front of her red eyes, her white blond hair tied up in a neat bun and held in place by a fairly ornate looking lotus-flower hairpin. Her clothes were plain and modest grey scholar's robes that had obviously seen better days, looking strangely ragged in comparison to the pristine leather book satchel she carried. She gave Graham an especially strange look at he hobbled up behind her, and considering most looks Graham gets are strange looks, that's saying something.

Although Graham, who seemed to be right on the threshold of truly slipping into bean-induced hysteria, wanted nothing more than to quickly brush past her and shake off the awkward encounter, he was stopped in his tracks as someone very strong grabbed a hold of his cloak from behind. He quickly turned to come face to face with a young Goron fellow with bright eyes and a wide smile, although the smile quickly faded into confusion as he caught sight of Graham's... imposing visage. Meanwhile, the Subrosian's gaze drifted down to the Goron fellow's chest, gravitating towards an unnervingly stiff pair of rock hard Goron nipples.

Wow... that's uh... wow. I mean... woah there. Do they chafe super bad, or like, what? So I mean. Gosh! Wow...

"Hey brother, I'm Hogarth! Say, I'm new in town, is this the way to the graveyard?" he asked, forcing a smile as he tried to ignore the fact that Graham's bright white eyes seemed fixated on a very uncomfortable area of his chest. Graham couldn't offer anything but stunned silence. Luckily the Sheikah woman stepped in before things could get any weirder.

"Yes, my friend, the graveyard is right through here. I'm familiar with the area, you're welcome to follow me while our friend here... uh, gets his bearings," she explained, beckoning for the Goron to follow her. Graham continued to say nothing as the two went on ahead, finding himself content to stare at the stone wall across from him, which, as he had recently come to notice, was a vastly different color than he remembered it being mere moments ago. An indecipherable amount of time (if Graham had to guess, he'd say somewhere between 35 seconds and 40 billion years) went by as Graham continued to inspect every brick of the wall. Eventually he gathered the courage to continue along the path to the graveyard despite the fact that the ground itself seemed to be moving underneath him as he shuffled onward.

Before long it felt like Graham was just gliding along the grassy path, the sound of his staggering footsteps fading into the background as he took in the sounds of the graveyard. Everything seemed to be smooth and slippery, and as he would extend his hand out to touch various things, they seemed to bend in and out of alignment as if they were made of rubber. Perhaps most eerily, every time the hooded thief would turn his head to look at something new, a splash of white bits of light would explode across his field of vision, almost like he was shaking a snowglobe with every new motion (if he even knew what a snowglobe was). Although a graveyard is probably one of the worst places to be when having such an experience, Graham didn't even have time to notice where he was. He was constantly looking down, partially to check if his feet were still there but also because he was vibing out hardcore watching the way the blades of grass danced in the breeze.

Graham finally turned his gaze upward to find that he had wandered right into the middle of the group of crazies, who all seemed to be talking about something of concerted importance. Graham couldn't exactly make out what they was saying, however, as he was currently hearing everything as if he was six feet underwater, turning the chatter of the various strange folks around him into nothing more than muted burbles. Then, in one instant, Graham became hyper-aware that everyone was staring at him and immediately became incredibly anxious and paranoid.

Well, you should probably say something. Just, whatever you do, don't say nothing. Avoid saying, uh... not nothing, I guess? Or, maybe, well. Okay, so, I should say something, and the something that I'm going to say had better not be nothing. Then it wouldn't be something that I said.

Graham's time management skills currently operating at an all time low, it dawned on him that in all his considerations of whether to say something or nothing, he still hadn't said anything, and everyone was still probably staring at him.

"H-hello... hello... HELLO! I AM GRAHAM!" he exclaimed, starting off very meek and quiet at first, but then, being unable to hear his own voice as he was currently listening from the bottom of the ocean, he decided that erupting into a full on shout would be a much more normal and not crazy person thing to do. Satisfied that he had successfully made a completely normal entrance, Graham decided now would be a great time to sit down and vibe out for a second, so he promptly unlocked his knees and crumpled to the ground with about as much grace as something that isn't very graceful.

[Captain Jenno]

The weight this place bore overcast the cavalcade of characters filtering in through the gates, once Zephyrus had adequately taken in his surroundings.
It was a place of death, and of un-death. But that was true to anyone, be they Gerudo of Goron. For the Sheikah, it inspired a secondary layer of unease: a weight in the chest that threatened to drag the unprepared to their knees.
He raised his eyes toward the graveyard’s flank, and the relics buried behind its walls. The Shadow Temple, one of his kind’s ugliest and most sacred secrets.
Other people knew of it, naturally: even Sheikah weren’t adroit enough at what they did to make you doubt what lay right before your eyes. But its gory history, and the purposes for which it was built- what it was meant to contain- were burdens only the Shadow Folk shared. Whispered between them as though the information were alive, and prone to outrage when mishandled. Far too dangerous to be written down.
Within their culture, The Shadow Temple was an omen much worse than that of Griz. It precluded death, but more than that: it prophesised great, hungry darkness. Inspired legends that that the Shadow of Hyrule might someday swallow the caster whole, if its secrets were not held in sacred silence.
Or so the folk wisdom would suggest.
But despite its grim history, it was not a place Sheikah reviled. It was a place all their own. Their creation carved straight into Hylian stone. Watching over the dead. Sacred, but seldom seen: and never visited.
In Zephyrus it inspired dread, yes: but also a peculiar sense of awe. Its very presence sang to him, a mute dirge both tragic and beautiful, which made his head buzz.
He knew, somehow, that he would soon be there, in one of the only intact relics his race had left. And above the trepidation, he felt excitement, strange and foreign.
This was tempered, however, when he saw the sorts of people he would be watching – if it was the will of the Goddesses they enter the temple, he would not let them uncover his people’s secrets.

A burly Hylian and a Gerudo came bounding in, as he left his introspection. The former large, strong: a forged warrior, surely. The other small, at least in contrast, and gold of eye.
Zephyrus felt a strange kinship with the Gerudo. They shared a common trait: being incredibly suspicious to the Hylian people.
It was peculiar, that they would do business with Zora and live at the foot of Goron land, but a man with red eyes or a girl with gold might be cause for great fear and suspicion.

”… I am Jaege of the Lange family!”
The Hylian seemed of a good nature, and Zephyrus was pleased. Only kindly folk should be bestowed strength: that was how justice would be best sustained. It lightened his heart.
"Did he just say the ‘Large’ family? Because… ten for foresight."
Nevermind, mood ruined.

"Veitaru. Pleasure."
A childish gesture, a mixed response inside Zephyrus’ head. For a moment he remembered that he, too, had been so carefree and impolite, once. Before his mother had broken him, and rebuilt him anew. Rebuilt him ‘better’.
He wondered if Gerudo were as strict and ruthless a group of trainers – or were their eyes the only similarity? He wondered if, one day, respect would be instilled into her, and the fight drawn out like the ore from the stone.

A passing thought. Veitaru wasn’t his child to wish discipline upon, after all: that was his trainer speaking. His mother.

He turned attention to the other denizens of the cemetery, and felt the optimism Jaege might have inspired drain from him. He noticed the Skullkids, first. Of course he did. They were hardly a people known for their subtlety, if they were a people at all. They were loud and chaotic creatures of habit, or so he had heard. Young, ignorant and perpetually causing trouble.
Zephyrus was certain Archer would get on famously with them.
A man in a darkened hood took issue with one, and Zephyrus thought him even stranger than they. Even by the standards of The Sheikah, whose aesthetic standards were frankly extraordinarily low, he looked shady. Unnatural.
Like something out of a legend he just couldn’t quite remember.

When the Poe made itself known, Zephyrus didn’t flinch. But from the graveyard entrance, his brother was another matter.
"Is that a GHOST?!"
Exasperated, Zephyrus turned his head to the last of the discernible posse. Hylian, young. Looking about enthused as his brother had this morning.
Was this the band The Golden Three had put together? A rag-tag team of monsters, men and children?
Perhaps Archer had a point, after all. Although Zephyrus’ faith was unwavering, it didn’t mean he wasn’t starting to believe that this truly was madness.

Speaking of Archer, he- after settling his nerves- was still talking at Griz, with all the suave sophistication of a man who only alleged to have had success in the past.
None.
"You have beautiful… eye… s? I mean I bet they’re both beautiful. If you have both. If not I bet you look great in an eyepatch, right?"
An awkward pause. Unflinching silence on Griz’ part.
"… Not much of a talker, huh? Heh. Yeah, me neither. Man of few words, over here. They used to call me No-Talk Archer, back on the street. It would have been my middle name if I’d known my last one, haha. But yeah, they’d say ‘Get Archer talking? Hah, impossible!’ and I’d…”
He stared into Griz’ eye and saw nothing. Hrmph.
"I’m, uh. Really bombing, huh? Look, maybe I’m not much of a smooth talker when the voices in my head are leading me to beautiful women… uh… question mark. But I am a totally cool guy, alright? Look, do you wanna see a magic trick? I’m a magician."
Archer reached into his satchel, and rooted around until he took out a set of playing cards.

"Just, just watch this, alright?"
Archer stretched both thumbs up, and then- with one hand- began to push cards from the deck with one thumb, and balance them on the other. At first it was a flat facedown, and then another right on top of it. In a bizarre feat, dispensing the third card at an angle lifted the second until both of them formed a triangle, balancing on Archer’s thumb.
He balanced a forth card on top of that, and then--
”H-hello... hello... HELLO! I AM GRAHAM!”
Cards flew everywhere, the whole deck spilled from Archer’s hand and scattered across the floor, pouring out into a disorganised mess. The shape he’d been balancing fell apart and its constituents floated slowly to the floor. The longer they fell, the worse Archer felt.

He turned away from Griz for the first time since he’d entered the graveyard, and- with his hands on his hips- narrowed his eyes at Graham’s distant form.
"Buddy!", he yelled back, in a tone that suggested buddies was something the two of them were most certainly not.

[DearTrickster]

"Not only have you failed to say hello, but you also insult me to my face. Many would consider that rather rude, Child."

Oh, this one was going to be fun to tease. She readied a cheeky response then the Poe spoke and in a theatrical flourish did he appear in all his ghoulish glory. Beneath her mask her eyes twinkled and she let out a small Ooooh! clapping her blue hands lightly.

”Oh, I’m the spooky one? That is delightful coming from the living embodiment of a horror fairy tale that parents tell their children to keep them from wandering off on their own. I am but a humble spirit; you’re a twisted little girl that was consumed by a creepy forest that swallows souls and spits out monsters. That’s terrific.”

She pointed at the Poe, her nails dark with soil and dirt. Then lifted the bottom of the mask giving Lev a toothy grin, "Hehe! You got that right! I've tried dozens of times to get you ghosts to talk to me and all I get are grunts and lanterns swung at my head. Now that is rude." Jillian laughed, a creepy giggle that lasted a little too long. Taking a deep breath in she turned back to Magus and winked at the shadowy Twili. "How much you wanna bet that I've had a few more birthdays than you, shadowman?"

The mask was shifted back into place as she observed the gaggle of new people enter the graveyard. She bounced and found a tombstone to sit on, her legs freely swinging back and forth. Counting heads and taking odd guesses at what they did for a job.

A couple Sheikah looking just about as serious as the graves they were hanging around unfortunately they were too far out of earshot to hear what they were discussing. The last two that came in, a Hylian lady and another weird guy stumbling in then promptly collapsing after shouting his name. Graham earned a roiling chuckle out of the skullkid, she held her sides. Their entrance was highly amusing.

When she recovered she observed Jaege, he caught her attention and a low whistle from her at his sheer size and large voice to match. When her eyes tracked down to his side there was a little girl hiding behind the post and sticking her tongue out, making a face. Jillian decided she already liked her, she was good with kids. She wondered briefly if she'd be interested in chasing the cuccos with her.

She peeked past the adults, leaning heavily to the side. Another Skullkid? It was rare to run across another one of her kind outside of Lost Woods. Only handfuls of Skullkids left the comfort of their homes in the forest to explore Hyrule. They looked nervous, though Jillian could hardly blame 'em. She remembered the first time she went out into the world, and the first place she had to cross was Hyrule Field, what kind of place had barely any trees? Dumb places is what. Regardless she squinted heavily trying to remember who belonged to that mask.

[Baklava]

Another shrewd narrowing of the eyes and Lethe released an exasperated sigh. She had seen enough. Hylians never fail to disappoint, do they? she thought to herself, observing the bizarre man crumpled on the ground. She felt a slight tingling in the fingertips of her right hand and groaned. Being a partial healing fairy, it was an annoying side effect of knowing when there was a good deal of healing to be done. The man-- Graham-- as he'd so subtly announced-- was doped up. On what, she didn't know. Tempting as it was to kill his high, she felt simply moving forward would best suit the likes of him.

Music

"I know who summoned you here," Lethe stood and announced in a loud voice, drawing everyone's attention-- or at least the attention of everyone who was capable of giving it.

“I see the Shadow Temple is spooky as ever today— thus why you’re all huddled up in the graveyard’s center, I assume?" she quipped with an amused chuckle as she descended from the sign towards the front of of the group, "If you're able, I must ask that you all make your way there. That’s where I’m going. Don’t expect me to shout so you can hear me.

"My lungs are only so big, you know,” she added, though her voice was surprisingly noisy for one so small. She promptly zipped through the crowd towards the temple’s entrance, ignoring anyone’s further remarks or comments until she up against the steep wall. Lethe hovered expectantly as everyone somewhat reluctantly gathered near. The Shadow Temple loomed behind her and it's nearly tangible feeling of unease washed over the group.

"I know you all probably have a lot of questions, but let me do my best to first explain or else this is going to become downright chaotic….

“Firstly... I am Lethe," she gestured to herself and, though it was quite hard to see, dipped her head in a weak curtsy, "It's a... pleasure... to meet you all at last."

"There have been rumors circulating these past few months-- rumors that the King of Darkness will soon return to the land of Hyrule and that he will seek revenge for his imprisonment. Suffering will flood the land with pain and sorrow. Talk of the Hero of Time has also been stirring. They say he is on his way to vanquish the Evil King once he breaks free."

Lethe paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, for she knew this next bit of information would be the most essential for them to understand-- let alone believe.

"I am here to tell you that Ganondorf is coming." gαηση∂σяƒ ιѕ ¢σмιηg... _{gαηση∂σяƒ ιѕ ¢σмιηg...}

The same voice from before accompanied Lethe as an ominous whisper while she spoke, echoing in everyone's head. The two voices were obviously not the same.

"--but the Hero of Time... is not." нєяσ σƒ тιмє ιѕ ησт... _{нєяσ σƒ тιмє ιѕ ησт...}

"The fall of Hyrule is nigh and we few have been chosen to stand in the Hero’s place. Without us, all life will cease. Whether or not you think yourself qualified is irrelevant. The Goddess has chosen each of you for whatever reason and your decision to take on this task will be crucial in determining the fate of us all. You have been chosen by the Goddess Farore to save Hyrule, just as I have been chosen to guide you on this vital quest. Destiny has brought us all to this graveyard at this moment in time. Everyone here was meant to be here. It is part of Her great design. History is being written as we speak.

"I’m not going to lie to you. This will be a dangerous undertaking and I cannot promise your survival. The choice is, as always, yours.”

Lethe was then silent, signaling that she had finished.

One of the first among them to step forward, without a moment's hesitation, was Griz. A gust of wind whipping their orange scarf around their lanky frame as they stood there, silently resolute.

[Bright_Ops]

Magus couldn't help but sigh internally as more people started to talk... and more idiots started to revel themselves for what they were. While he found the large hyrulian loud and annoying at least he seemed to try and present himself in a respectful manner; Turning his head towards one of the pair of hyrulians that seemed to be trying to talk up one of the others present... only to be failing to make any meaningful impact at all. Some might have found the whole situation to be funny and in a small way Magus did... through the insistent talking quickly grated on his nerves.

However a voice from the direction of the Poe spoke up that caught his attention; Turning to look at the specter, Magus's gaze narrowed a little. "I am not the one that summoned you or anyone else here. I am here solely to discover who did and why they decided to try and reach out to me in such a manner, nothing more."

Since he had already decided on speaking, Magus came to the conclusion that he might as well make his own (and by effect, everyone else's) wait more bearable by turning to look at the idiot who had been messing around with the cards who didn't seem to have an off button when it came to talking. When he spoke, there was actually a hint of amusement in his voice. "Do you wish to see a real magic trick?" Raising his hand, those who paid attention would quickly notice that a series of strange, dark orange ruins seemed to appear around it for a moment... before a 'whip' that seemed to made out of shadows appeared in his gloved hand.

With a relatively small flick of the wrist, the 'whip' would aim right towards the card owner... and if he didn't manage to move out of the way, it would crack right on the tip of his nose before disappearing as if it had never been there. "The masked person isn't interested in you. Please stop annoying them and by extension, the rest of us."

Before anything else could be uttered (Making a point to ignore the 'skullkid' for now), a voice from on high started to speak up. It didn't take much in the way of searching to find the source of the voice... it was small and glowed brightly after all. Without much else to do, he followed with the intention of listening to what this was all about and finally get some answers.

Well... he got them.

For a moment, Magus was silent.

Then the condescending laughter began.

The hooded figure actually doubled over a little before he finally managed to stand up straight, making a show of wiping away tears that weren't actually there. "That has got to be the greatest joke I've ever heard in years. The very idea that after what that bitch and her sisters did to my people, she would still have the nerve to command me to save her stupid sheep because she can't find a better tool for the job..." A few extra chuckles escaped him but he managed to reign them in before it got out of hand again. "But seriously, what are we really here for?"

@Captain Jenno@Chanda@Baklava@Dervish@The 42nd Gecko@RBYDark@DearTrickster

[Dervish]

To Lev's surprise, the Skullkid lifted her mask, revealing a pale face that not even the most desperate and blind of mothers could love, with eyes that resembled some kind of addict and teeth that might as well have been serrated steak knives.

"Hehe! You got that right! I've tried dozens of times to get you ghosts to talk to me and all I get are grunts and lanterns swung at my head. Now that is rude." she laughed childishly, as befitting something perpetually locked in adolescence for eternity. Lev found her fairly endearing already; he lifted his lantern and gently bopped her on the head with the cooler base. "There. I wouldn't want to tarnish my kind's image, now would I?" he asked mischievously. They were going to get along famously, he decided.

Another voice caught his attention,

"Did he just say the ‘Large’ family? Because… ten for foresight." the Hylian quipped to his Shiekah partner, prompting a quiet chuckle from Lev. The man's observation was rather astute, he decided. When the man noticed Lev, and exclaimed about seeing a ghost, Lev jingled his lantern in mock threat. "Boo."

"I know who summoned you here," a diminutive voice squeaked, prompting heads to turn. It took the speaker a few more words before Lev finally spotted them, a fairy with a shockingly proficient oral output for something so small. It was impossible to not picture a missing Kokiri child accompanying the fairy, as fairies tended to be their quintessential fashion accessory. Still, Lev didn’t exactly question the fairy’s authoritative manner of speaking, inviting them all to head towards the Shadow Temple, as if it were a prime tourist trap.

Catching eyes with the person closest to him, Lev shrugged and levitated towards where the fairy fluttered off to, the high wall before the Temple entrance, closed off to all but the most determined. Even being a ghost didn’t make the Temple any less unsettling for Lev; there were darker things residing in there than he, and all of which that didn’t care for intruders of any sorts. It wasn’t the sort of place he fancied being trapped for eternity.

The fairy, once everyone had assembled, introduced herself as Lethe. The courteous platitude of how much of a pleasure it was to meet them all couldn’t have been more strained if one were trying to suck melted water out of a block of ice through a straw. If Lev had to take a guess, Lethe was probably expecting a lot different than what she got. The Poe huffed, indignant at the thought that the fairy probably thought very little of them all, him in particular. He was a Poe, by the Goddesses, he should have been feared, or something. This was all so very… mundane.

However, his misgivings were quickly quelled when Lethe began to regale them with a story of how darkness was rising, and the dire consequences to follow. Lev found himself quite captivated, and didn’t consciously realize he was reaching for his book and ink. Was this the origin of his story?

"I am here to tell you that Ganondorf is coming." gαηση∂σяƒ ιѕ ¢σмιηg... _{gαηση∂σяƒ ιѕ ¢σмιηg...} Lethe said, the now familiar voice echoing in Lev’s mind as she spoke. That cleared up that question, certainly. The Fairy was the one who brought them here.

”Uh-oh.” Lev said, having read enough tales to know that Ganondorf qualified as probably the Very Worst Thing. Considering the circumstances surrounding this meeting, he didn’t doubt what Lethe was saying. Lev was an undead spirit, one of darkness and pretty much the antithesis of a fairy, but that didn’t mean he was destructive and evil. He rather liked the world, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual.

"--but the Hero of Time... is not." нєяσ σƒ тιмє ιѕ ησт... _{нєяσ σƒ тιмє ιѕ ησт...} Lethe and the voice continued ominously.

”Yessssss!” Lev exclaimed, feeling immediately validated. He could feel his story practically writing itself, and the shelves would be saved from yet another tale of the Green hero saving the day from evil, blah blah blaaaah. Now the day would have to be saved by the same hapless mortals he’d hoped to capture in his writings. Catching the concerned, if not disgusted glances of those around him, Lev cackled apologetically. ”It’s, uh, not what you think.” he said, not burying himself in his book fast enough.

Wait, hold up, Goddess… picked me? Lev thought, looking up, suddenly completely at a loss of logical thought. He felt excitement, and pride, swell within him. His dream was coming true! Each of these hapless fools would be the key characters in this most exalted story to be penned, they’d be the heroes that saved Hyrule, all without that pesky Green rapscallion!

” History is being written as we speak.” Lethe said with grave finality.

”Literally.” Lev chimed in, scribbling way furiously before nodding. ”You have no idea how long I’ve waited for something like this to come along. Goes without saying, I’m in without reservation.”

The brown-cloaked figure that seemed to possess no small amount of ire towards the Skullkid that had quickly asserted herself amongst the gathering mocked Lethe and her tale, claiming the Goddess had somehow slighted his people, a statement Lev found rather puzzling as he momentarily sifted through his memory for anything related to people that universally felt slighted on a cosmic scale. Gerudo, maybe? Until the man, thing, monster... whatever, revealed his face, it was going to act as a big unknown.

Try as he might, Brown Cloak wasn't going to be a killjoy for this expedition, Lev decided. Poe turned back towards the group at large as the first stepped forward to spread allegiance, although they never uttered a single word. Joining the Shiekah, the singular one that seemed to have an utter lack of vocabulary, Lev hummed quietly to himself as words danced across the blank page that was becoming less so by the minute.

…And she rose from the earthen font in a blinding burst of flame, resplendent in flowing red finery embroidered with the purest of golden strands, woven together like silk thread. Her skin, darkened like it had been tempered by the flames themselves and hair indistinguishable from the inferno that seemed to consume her aura, was free of blemish and more flawless than anything in all of Hyrule.

She was the Goddess Din, and it was she who called upon the stalwart guardians of the realm before her, her champions to stave off eternal darkness with little more than their resolve and courage. Her very flames that shaped the earth itself would be what would guide the guardians through the darkest of days to come.

She extended a hand to the first of the guardians, a mysterious Shiekah so dedicated to their order they forsaken their identity and garbed themselves in shadows manifested tangible, and only through Din’s flame and her fair touch did the others see the Shiekah for what they were; a beautiful but scarred individual who had sacrificed all in service of their King, their pure heart hidden from all eyes, save for the Goddess before the Shiekah. Overjoyed, as if being seen for the first time, tears welled up in the Shiekah’s eyes, their resolve as brilliant as the flames that shrouded Din….

Oh, this is going to be brilliant. Lev thought mirthfully, losing himself in the moment and forgetting, for a moment, all of this was decidedly real and about to be terribly unpleasant.

[Baklava]

Collab with Chandakins

In the span of five minutes, Felicia was convinced that she never should have come here.

But here she was, in the presence of a Poe, an unsettling figure garbed in brown, two Skullkids, three sheikah, whoever that jerk was back there, and now... a fairy that wanted her to help save Hyrule.

Five minutes ago... _{give or take...}

As the majority of the group hesitantly followed the fairy towards the back of the graveyard, Felicia stood at the entrance scratching her shoulder and feeling her canteen through her pocket. This was insane. Who were all these people? What were all these weird creatures doing here in Kakariko Village?

After a few halfhearted steps in the fairy's direction, Felicia glanced down to find the only person there whose name she knew thus far.

"Hey, uh...," she crouched down with her knees together and gave him a light tap on the shoulder, "Graham... right? I think we're suppose to head over that way."

Felicia's voice sailed across two planes of existence, over seven mountains of consciousness, and plunged deep into a vast ocean of sensible qualia before finally landing just short of Graham's ears. Although he'd provided no discernible reaction to the annoyed glares and ruined magic tricks surrounding him, he suddenly perked up after hearing his name, turning his head to meet Felicia's gaze as she politely reminded him what they were doing here. The Subrosian struggled to make out her facial features amidst the vivid scenery of the graveyard, but ultimately failed as her eyes, mouth and nose seemed intent on melting off of her face and pooling in a grotesque flesh colored puddle on the ground. He could tell at the very least from her pointed ears that she was Hylian.

"Yes, well, okay, hm, yes, well. I'll just be standing up and walking over there, then, I suppose," he noted, his already strange Subrosian accent further muddled by a slurred, detached articulation brought on by the sedatory effect of the bean. "Well, okay, then, alright, let's, uh... let's do that."

Despite this resolution, Graham didn't seem to be moving an inch. Not for a lack of desire to stand up, but, rather, there seemed to be some complete miscommunication between brain and limbs. Unfortunately Graham's less-than-adequate sense of the passing of the time failed to clue him in on just how long and awkwardly he had been slumped on the floor, unmoving, saying nothing.

Wait, I'm standing up right now, right? Right? Can we check, just to make sure?

I don't know, I'm pretty certain we're standing up, other Graham. It's kind of unlike me to just forget to do something like that.

Do you think you could just check again, Graham? I just want to be thorough, is all. You know how I worry.

Well, if you say so... oh, goodness. It looks like we didn't actually stand up, other Graham.

Shit.

So you know when you're done drinking a drink, but you still want to chew on some ice, and so you tilt the cup back to get like one or two cubes to slide down, but the ice doesn't move? So you keep tilting it back but then all the ice cubes just suddenly come rushing down at once and you make a fool of yourself? In a very similar manner, Graham's body parts suddenly exploded into action and he stood up with perhaps too much vigor. The lightheadedness had only become worse as the effects of the bean had set in, and although Graham managed to catch himself on a nearby fencepost before toppling over backwards, he still felt as though he would be much more effective and useful to everyone if he was laying down and inspecting the many flecks of graveyard dirt that called out to him in unison with their unique, dirt-like flair.

The crazies surrounding him all seemed to be listening to the fairy, but Graham couldn't be entirely sure as they appeared to him as colored shapes resembling freakish figures rather than actual people (perhaps that was for the better, as he wasn't sure his stomach could handle another unsettling face-melting incident). His attention slowly drifted to the fairy, Lethe, whose movements and natural light left colorful, kaleidoscope like lens flares in Graham's strained bean vision. He beckoned to the Hylian woman to come closer, as he didn't quite feel confident leaving the support of the fencepost just yet.

"Perhaps I'm just seeing things. I mean, you know me and my wild imagination, right?" he half-chuckled, apparently oblivious to the fact that this face-melted Hylian woman didn't know a single thing about him besides his name. "If I'm not mistaken, that's one of those forest fairies, right? I know a guy who pays good money for them in bottles. I think he eats 'em. Not sure! You should help me catch her. I'll be your best friend, I promise," he proposed, in a hush whisper. The bean had made him much chattier than usual, it seemed. "I might even let you keep some of the money from the sale. But you'd have to be real hush-hush about it. Discretion is key in the fairy trafficking industry."

Unlike Graham, Felicia was a bit less keen on trusting folks without faces. Part of her wanted to help the man, but the larger part of her didn't really want to touch him. And so she simply watched, following his movements with her hands, but being sure to stay well out of his way.

"I don't know if that's such a great idea," she replied, leaning forward while matching his hushed tone, "I think we ought to hear her out first... I mean... well, you can't really catch her with so many people around, you know?"

She was beginning to regret stopping to help this loon at all... but somebody had to, right? Might as well be her. It at least gave her an excuse not to get any closer to that shady Sheikah temple. As for his fairy trafficking idea... Felicia had a bad feeling about messing with the sort of fairies who could project thoughts into your head... or who were at least in cahoots with someone who could. Not that she couldn't use the rupees or anything. She then realized that 'sort' of fairy was also the kind she'd rather not enrage by not following instructions.

"You're no fun at all. Dream big every once in a while. You think I got where I am today by 'hearing people out'? Ridiculous," chuckled Graham, shaking his head. He wasn't exactly sure what he meant by "where I am today" considering he was not exactly a pillar of success himself.

Felicia reluctantly extended her hand, happy to still be wearing her gloves, though they reeked of fish, given her previous endeavors that day.

"Do you... need some help getting up?"

"No, I'll be quite alright on my own, thanks," sighed Graham, pushing off the fence post and struggling to take a few steps forward. "Sorry in advance for this, by the way," he added quietly. He then put his hands up to his mouth and called out after the fairy.

"Hey! Fairy lady! This girl said she was going to try to catch you in a bottle and sell you to a collector," he exclaimed, motioning towards Felicia. "She offered to pay me to help her, but I said no because I'm a good guy!" he explained, loopily. He then proudly put his hands on his hips, feeling a rush of bean-induced confidence in his master plan.

Ha! Classic misdirection! If she thinks that this dumpy fishwife is out to get her, she'll never see it coming when I actually try to steal her! Foolproof!

A sound like something of a "Uwah?!" escaped her as Felicia straightened up, looking from the no-faced and somehow two-faced Graham to where the fairy was now serenely floating up ahead. She stood there frozen, waiting for the fairy to reply or perhaps smite her, but nothing happened. Nothing at all. Either the fairy was deliberately ignoring them, or she wasn't at all concerned with people trying to bottle her up.

If Felicia was hesitant before, she was downright terrified to approach the fairy now. With each passing second that the fairy didn't respond, however, she felt a little less anxious. Making up her mind to quickly get things over with, she briskly walked past Graham, being sure to provide a light, but deliberate, nudge with her elbow as she passed. She glared at him over her shoulder before moving on. He seemed to be walking well enough alone anyway.

Now standing amidst the others (albeit further towards the back given Graham's lie), Felicia was back to scratching her shoulder and chewing her lip. Whoever the creepy guy in the brown cloak was, he seemed none-to-happy with not only the fairy, Lethe, but the Goddesses themselves. All at once, Felicia found herself feeling much less worried for herself and much more worried for that guy, especially now that she knew the person the fairy was in cahoots with was the Goddess Farore herself.

[Baklava]

"The very idea that after what that bitch and her sisters did to my people, she would still have the nerve to command me to save her stupid sheep because she can't find a better tool for the job..."

Arms locked and fists clenched, tiny blue sparks flickered around Lethe's fingers as the brown cloaked being spoke. "That bitch?" Refusing to believe her was one thing, but insulting the Goddess Farore was another. What was this thing before her clad in brown? This sickly excuse for a creature? His people? Ha! As if what he thought or said held any significance. Her stance relaxed and she smiled condescendingly (unseen by the radiance of her glow, of course).

"But seriously, what are we really here for?"

"Believe my words-- and the words of your creator which no doubt have already echoed in that empty head of yours-- or leave. And take your chances with the impending doom on your own. As I said, the choice is yours.”

Lethe continued to float there, firm in her decision. She'd really had to grit her teeth at the end there. She was trying so hard to be on her best behavior. Please don't push me, she inwardly pleaded, I need this job. She observed the Poe consenting to obey the Goddess along with Griz. Even this twisted creature knew better than to insult the Goddesses... who was this impotent fool? If answers for the injustice of 'his people' were what this sacrilegious cretin sought, he would not find them here— at least not now.