The Master Sword. The weapon weilded by the hero chosen by the godesses to save Hyrule from evil and restore peace. The blade of evil's bane. Each time its hilt has been grasped, its blade has tasted blood(or clay, or stone, or metal, or grass, or...you catch my drift), its handguard has clanked against its sheath after battle, it has been done in the hand of a green tunic-wearing hero, named Link, or one of his same-named decendants. Countless times has it defeated foes, great and small, and more times than should occur has it struck down Ganon, or his human form of Ganondorf. And, every time its journey ends, it rests in its pedestal, from whence it was drawn what would have felt like centuries before, when really, it was only a matter of days.
Every time the Master Sword has recieved a new master, its master has been that hero, Link, be he a small boy or a young adult. Every time it has chosen a single master.
But the godesses know that, someday, an evil so powerful, one weilder of the Master Sword would be insufficient, would come. They had an idea of what to do in such a case, should the legendary Four Sword, which has the power to split its weilder into two, three, or even four selves, be inacessible. They just did not know what would happen when their plan was finally forced to be used...
It was a beautiful morning, and the sun was shining bright over the small village of Kochyrae, allowing its quaint, simple buildings, quite few in number, to be seen by its equally simple inhabitants. The simple huts of wood from the beautiful forest surrounding the village watched as their inhabitants dawdled about within, went about working without, or, in one case, although he was a couple hours late, slept still.
Slowly, the young man opened his eyes, waking up as his house allowed a beam of light from the above window to creep up his body and finally shine on his face. The boy gasped and bolted out of bed, hurriedly getting his working clothes on. He was late for work! And nobody had come to wake him up, either. And that was odd, or perhaps not; the only one in the house who lived with him was his grandfather, from his mother's side, Bardin.
At last getting his boots on, the young man shot out of the house, who creaked under his feet to remind him of creeping in the night, sneaking about on someone else's property and making that heart-stopping, ominous creak, and therefore reminding him to lock his door. His house was the only one in Kochyrae that had to be locked, since a lot of things were stored there.
Shooting past a couple of houses, he soon reached his goal of his family's shop, Bardin's Bargins-cute name, isn't it? His grandfather always said that when admiring his faithful friend. But that's not really what he said today. It was more like, "LINK! YOU'RE LATE!" as soon as the man stepped inside, panting.
Link panted and murmered an appology, but his grandfather shook his head. Bardin was an old man, but not a frail one, by far. He wasn't extremely strong, either. He was strong enough to carry on with life and the hard life that comes with having to completely manage a shop: chopping wood to keep the fire going at night, towing large crates of goods from the house to the shop without a horse, and catching any smart-alec would-be theif who occasionally tries to rob him. He had a near-bald head, with a perfect dome of baldness that covered exactly half of his head, the other half being a ring of grey hair. He had on a pair of glasses, square-rimmed, a white shirt underneath a green smock, a pair of tan trousers, and light boots on his feet. He kept a quill behind his right ear, a pad of parchment in a pocket of his smock, and, usually, a kind, friendly look on his wrinkled, weathered face. But now, he was frowning at his grandson in disappointment and aggrivation. He put his hands to his hips. "Link, why, in the name of the godesses, did you sleep in so late?" he asked sternly. "You're better than this!"
Link tried to find an answer, but could not find a viable explaination for it.
Bardin sighed and shook his head, cradling his face on outstretched fingers. He looked back at Link. "I had to open up shop, clean the floor, and put up most of the goods on my own!" he scolded, motioning with his hands. "It's been taking twice as long to set up shop! Now, get to work!" he ordered, pointing at Link. "Get started with getting the rest of the goods from the house to here. You know where they're kept in the cellar, so don't take too long, or I'm not going to let you practice with your bow today!" he threatened. Link nodded and ran right out.
It was a normal day, basically. Well, not THAT normal...Link usually wakes up right when his grandfather does. He works at his grandfather's shop because there is no other job available in town. Link first helps set up the shop, cleaning, getting goods, and putting them up so they can be purchased by customers. These goods include a few weapons that the two occasionally complete, meaning things such as bows, arrows, shields, and slingshots for the kids-simple weapons without too much metal-food for the villagers, seed to grow crops when the season comes around and new plants are availible to be grown, and some good old fashioned red potion, for anyone in the village who wants to travel out deep into the woods the smart way. After setting up the shop, Link would then get to stay outside and greet customers, or chop wood for the fire, or even man the counter. But most of the time, he really isn't actually needed by his grandfather. This is counteracted, though, by the villagers asking him to help them with things like planting crops, getting rid of pests, babysitting while the folks go out for a bit, assisting at the ranch nearby in the sister village, Ybayba Enapu, or, his personal favorite, being a sparring partner with that same town's weapons expert, who taught his grandfather and himself how to make simple weapons.
Link had a very nice life. He didn't need to live in the big city, with all their fancy haggling, thieving, lying, crying, and indoor plumbing for rich baths. He was content to live life as the shopkeep's grandson, helping him and the rest of the village of Kochyrae with whatever they need his energy, amazing flexibility of tasks, or just his helpful nature for.
That same morning shone down onto a village on the opposite end of Hyrule, in the mountains to the north. Instead of houses, though, that the sun shone upon, caves with wooden doors, with wooden walls to fit the rest of the entrances of the caves, reflected the light and awakened the colors within them. You really could only see this village from the sun's eyes, as there's only a giant crack opening out from a ceiling of rock to the rest of the world that allows a good outside view of the village. It's not the only entrance, though; a great subterranean tunnel ran from it to the foot of the mountain. Convienently enough, only the inhabitants of the cave village, Jgk'hry, could have an easy time navigating the dark, treacherous passage.
Hyrule had many races within it: Hylians, of course, but also the gorons, the zoras, and the band of all-female theives, the gerudoes. Each-although the last is treated with great caution, and for good reason-respects each other, and wishes overall peace in Hyrule. The gerudoes may cause trouble with their thieving, but that's just about it. There are more races, of course, but most of them are races of savage, evil, or just plain easily-disgruntled creatures. And one of these other races resides within this village. A race of monsters notorious for their unique blend of animal abilities and skilled swordsmanship. The lizalfos.
Jgk'hry is a rarity amoung the lizalfos, however; usually, these creatures are wandering bands, hunters and gatherers. But, at some point long ago, some lizalfos were separated from the group, left for dead from injuries. The small group found a concealed place hidden with only an overhead chasm to immediately reveal its location. A small underground lake with many caves around it, the cavern held, also, strong, unique herbs with medicinal properties. The lizalfos, with nothing else to lose, decided to try and use these herbs to heal their great wounds. Over time, they healed, which, without the herbs' help to minimize infections, wouldn't have happened. The lizalfos also found a great supply of fish ran through the lake, and countless birds liked to roost on the mountainside nearby. They had food. They had water. And, with the rich ore found there, they had a means with which to create weapons and armor instead of risk their lives in stealing it. So, they settled. This was ages ago. And still, despite the fact few ever venture out on their own, many of the villagers are as inclined towards cruel acts as before, though not towards one another.
But with the calmness of settling comes boredom. And with boredom sometimes come learning, to keep that horrifying beast at bay. But, also, with boredom, may also come chores...
"SAMBA! WAKE UP, LAZY-SCALES!"
Samba, a young lizalfos with unique, blue scales, roared in surprise at the high voice squealing so loud right into his ears, and jerked in a way that he tumbled right out of his bed of lots of soft hay and onto the floor of lots of hard rock. He growled and sat up, holding his nose, which had slammed right into the floor.
"If you'd gotten up on time, this wouldn't've happened, y'know," his little sister said behind him. He turned his head to look at her. Dressed in nothing more but a simple white dress and a necklace with birds' feathers, she was standing with her paws on her hips. Her scales, unlike his, were teal, which was still not the usual green the others wore. Her face was absolutly adorable, since she was still so young, that she still had a respectfully nice-to-look-at face. The older lizalfos had faces that were very reptillian, but still flexible enough for expression, yet still not something you'd call cute or visually pleasing enough to prefer it over something more mundane normally. Most still had beady eyes, but as they gradually remained staying there, they began to become slightly larger and more full of life. Only Samba and his sisters' scales changed as well. Back to her, though, the sister in question had a stern look on her face. "I mean, really, big brother, you've got to get going with the fishing," she nagged him. "You should've been up earlier, too. You're going to be late for the boat if you don't quit feeling sorry for your nose being smashed into the floor by your fat self and get dressed for work."
Samba, who was as slim as most of the others in the the village(in fact, he was actually quite an athlete), squeaked comically at the mention of his boat potentially leaving without him and got up quickly, rushing to the section of his room where his clothing was. Throwing on a shirt and loincloth and grabbing his fishing rod, he raced out of the cave, slamming the door after him. Behind him, his little sister sighed and shook her head as she watched him go. "Lazy..."
Samba dashed along the shoreline by his home, passing the other large caves claimed as homes of other villagers. He ran along, clawed feet flying over the stone beneath him as he raced to the dock where the fishing boats were. He finally skidded sideways as he reached it, and then ran right across it to the boat, which was, indeed, leaving without him. He could make it, if he just kept running and jumped, despite there being a large gap that no hylian could hope to clear. With a grunt, he jumped off the edge over to the boat. The fishermen on the boat made sounds of surprise and alarm as the boat sunk a little and rocked as Samba landed and stumbled forward a slight bit from the momentum. His foot caught on a seat and he fell face first down to the floor of the boat. He growled as he sat up, grumbles and laughter, both at him, surrounding him for being so late he had to jump into the boat like that. He looked sorrilly up at the foreman, a burly lizard who held a fishing pole in each paw and a hook tied to the end of his tail, which he always trailed in the water. The foreman crossed his arms and glared at the young fisherman, unamused like some of the others on the boat.
Snorting in discontent, the large beast growled, "You're LATE, Samba." He leaned in so that his face was right up to Samba's, so much that each could see the emotion within the other's eyes, anxiety in Samba's and fury in the foreman's. "And you just HAVE to point it out by making such a ruckus, don't you?" he scolded loudly. Samba winced at the volume, but had expected something loud and had been ready for it. The foreman knocked him on the head as punishment. "You're going to be responsible for gutting the fish today," he added onto it. "Now get your pole ready and shut up."
For Samba, that last part was easier done than said.
Link put the last of the goods up on the shelf and mopped his brow in relief. He looked to Bardin for his next order.
Bardin nodded. "I can handle it from here, Link," he said, calmer than before. His voice was healthy, despite his age. He thumbed behind him. "You can go and do whatever the village wants you to do today. I'll call out if I need you."
Link nodded and went outside the shop, stretching. He wondered what he'd be doing today. He decided to take a stroll through the village until somebody needed help. Dorder, the farmer of the village, called to say hi from working on his roof, and, when Link asked, said he didn't need any help. Link nodded and continued on, saying hello to Mari, who was with her kids, playful and rambuctious Yan and clumsy and curious Cor, both young boys. Mari said she was fine with the kids for now, but would he be able to play with them later on? Maybe, Link replied, and went on.
He went to all the people out and about, but nobody needed any of his help. This was unusual, since Link was always needed for SOMEthing.
See? Link turned to the voice and saw, eyes lighting up and a smile on his face, his friend, Betta, the weapons expert from the ranch village next over. Link ran over to the man. Betta had a good outfit of adventerers' clothes on, with a good tunic, a pair of sturdy trousers, strong boots, leather bracers, and a few scars on his face. His expression was kind, despite the great gashes on his cheek, across his forehead, and down his chin. He carried a pair of wooden swords with him today in addition to his sword on his belt. "A fine morning, Link!" he greeted, shaking his young friend's hand as he got over to him. He smiled, dark brown eyes twinkling. The wind blew his short black hair a bit. "Are you doing anything right as of now?" he asked, raising his other hand, which held the two wooden swords.
Link smiled and shook his head. He explained that he might be called, though.
Betta nodded. "I understand, your grandfather might need you at any time. But that just means we have to work as much as we can today!" He grinned and tossed Link his training weapon. "Come on, we'll work in our spot," he beckoned, and pointed to a patch of grass behind the shop. It was clear, except for a target of a hay-man standing in one corner, somewhat battered.
Link nodded and ran over, eager to get some more sword practice in. He was already an excellent swordsman, but he LOVED to practice, especially against a live opponent. He was especially excited today, since it had been a while since he'd seen his sparring partner. He and Betta went to their spots as usual. Betta pointed his sword, wooden for this training session, at Link. "Right, then, Link, let's do a refresher, since it's been a few weeks since we've sparred last," Betta announced. "We'll start with keeping your eyes on a target, using me for the target." Link nodded and trained his sharp eyes on the energetic man in front of him. Betta moved this way, then that, then did a few fake-outs, but Link kept his eyes on him at all times.
After a while, Betta stopped and said, "Good! I see you've kept your practice up for that." He turned to the hay-man target. "Now, focus on ol' Joe Glass there, and do some horizontal slashes." Link did so, and then vertical, then stabs, then a jump attack, and finally, to wrap up the warm-up, his favorite, the spin attack. With years of practice in it, Link spun a circle, left arm extended with sword in it and striking the target twice before the spin ended. When he was done, Link turned to Betta.
Betta smiled and nodded. He got into his own stance and said, "Now we'll see if your reflexes have been slowed in the downtime you've had being just a shopkeep's assistant!" shortly before starting to attack.
Link dodged with skillful moves, sidestepping, rolling, and even backflipping. He even went more advanced by parrying an attack-he struck away Betta's stab with his own blade before it met with him and struck him on the shoulder in the time he'd made with the move. Betta laughed, grinning. "Well, then, don't have to go over that, then!" he chuckled. "Okay, then, come at me!" And the sparring session began. Link knew the rules: If the teacher could strike the pupil three times, then that was it for the time. The pupil could get in as many hits as his teacher could take. It was a good ten minutes before Link, still admittiedly rusty from the time off practicing, got hit a third time.
Betta smiled and put his wood sword in his opposite hand, panting. "Very good, Link, you got quite a few hits on me today!" he congratulated, holding out his hand to shake. Link took it and shook, then held out his wooden sword. Betta smiled and shook his head. "No. I think you should keep that and use it a bit to practice some more," he reasoned. "Besides, you never know when someone wants their grass to be cut!" He laughed. The wooden sword, although made of mere wood, was somewhat sharpened and could cut tall grass and, if one wasn't careful, take out your eye.
All good things must come to an end, though, and Link heard his grandfather call. Betta smiled and waved him off. "I'll be staying in town for a while, so if you need me, I'll have a tent out in the Korken Woods," he called after.
Link nodded back as he ran to his grandfather.
Samba sighed as he stood up from rinsing his guts-covered paws in the lake. He had just gotten done with work for the day, and had gone through his punishment of gutting all the fish. He hated doing that, but as a hylian rhyme went, "You gotta jump through hoops to get your rupes." The village used the nationally-accepted currency of rupees, just in case someone went into outside society and needed to buy something, which usually was from a group of gorons the village has business deals with. The town produces the wonderful medicinal herbs that, they found out recently, can combine with blue potion to create a potion that not only restores your physical health, but keeps you going for some time more, magically healing new or old wounds for a time after consuming the potion, which is about a minute. Unfortuneatly, this makes it an ungodly expensive brew, at 180 rupees. Some smart adventurers would be brave enough to combine the herbs with some blue chu jelly, achieving the same effect for free.
Walking back home, Samba noticed a few villagers gathered around something, muttering about it. Drejsk, a lizalfos with...weight issues, we'll say, was one of them, so Samba didn't bother to see what was going down over there since he'd have to push the lardy lizard aside, which was quite a task; this guy had beaten his fair share of gorons in sumo wrestling.
Getting home, Samba noticed his little sister was not outside, though it was midday and she usually was outside doing a few chores: sweeping the entrance, weeding the herb garden, or hunting cave spiders, which got huge and frightening compared to the normal, surface-dwelling variety. They even have pincers! (shudders Stopping there...) Samba entered his house and saw his sister talking with their mother, who was the only one they stayed with, since their father had still not returned from being sent out on a sort of mission from the village elder...four years ago.
"...Vardi, so you've got to be careful from now on," their mother was saying. She looked up as Samba got in. Their mother wore a dress with a belt around her waist, which carried her dagger in its scabbard. "So, Samba, you got onto your boat alright, I take it?" she asked, raising an eyeridge. Samba chuckled nervously and put a paw on the back of his neck.
Vardi smirked. "Yeah, I told her how you leapt onto it," she said openly. "That's whatcha get for being la-zy!" she sing-songed to him, waggling a claw.
Samba groaned at her. Before he could retort, their mother said, "Samba, you'd better get to your training sometime today." Samba nodded and moved past to his room. His mother followed. "And keep an eye on Vardi today, alright?" she asked. "You and her will continue your lessons in Hylian today and tomorrow, too, so be ready."
Samba made sounds of affirmation as he went and opened the box that held his training stuff. He had a small, square buckler that he always wore strapped to his arm comfortibly, and a simple training sword that was made of just a peice of unsharpened, flat metal in the shape of a sword. Unlike the somewhat curved variety that most lizalfos used as starter weapons, his was a straight blade. He put on his scabbard and belt to go with and strapped on his buckler. He stepped out of his room.
His mother was talking to Vardi again. "I want you to keep an eye on your big brother, okay?" she asked her. Samba "RUHH?"'ed at this. Their mother smiled sweetly at him. "Oh, sorry, honey, didn't know you were standing there!" she lied, and the girls laughed. Samba sighed and shrugged. What're ya gonna do? "Now," their mother said, drawing attention to her again, "I'll be gone only for a few days. If anything happens, I want you two to handle it the best way you can." She walked to a pack on the floor and picked it up. "Wish me luck, okay?" she asked over her shoulder.
Vardi smiled and nodded. "Good luck!" she bade. Her brother did the same.
Their mother smiled and waved, opening the door. "Don't kill anything that doesn't deserve it!" she reminded them, and she was gone.
Samba always felt a little unsure whenever she said something like that. Being a lizalfos, he was somewhat evil. But, remarkably, their mother was as good as gold. Vardi was also very good, almost as much as their mother; she was getting there, though. Samba...he was like a golden nugget that still had a few blotches of dirt over it. Blotches that were sort of growing bigger and smaller in minute amounts every day. Someday more dirt got on, some days it was removed more.
"Big brother," Vardi said as Samba walked to go out and see what was going on over where the crowd was, if it still existed or not. Samba stopped and looked down at her. "I'm going to be here alone, okay? I want to get supper started," she told him. Samba nodded and said to be careful. "I'll be careful, don't worry!" Vardi said, and went away, freeing her brother.
Samba went to where the crowd was, and found it was still there. He now was ready to push aside Drejsk, and he managed to. He looked to where they were looking.
On the wall they were crowded around, a poster read, in their language, "All men are to report to the cheif in-" (here, a number of numbers were written, crossed out, written again, and crossed out again, counting down) "-five days for the breifing."
Samba gulped. "Yeah, I know," one of the men said. Samba turned to him. He was a slim guy, wearing nothing but a loincloth. "He's gonna finally get going on his scheme to get our little town respect from the other lizalfos by sending everyone out to find some big, bad, thing of some sort."
Drejsk grunted in agreement. "Uh-huh," he said, "and it's supposed to be something of part." He scritched his chest beneath his shirt, which he wore with trousers.
The guy next to him sighed. "That's 'part of something,' tangletounge," he corrected. This one was normal, with a simple short leather shirt on, a standard article of warrior apparal for a lizalfos. He had a loincloth as well. "It's supposed to combine with others like it to make some sort of special thing that would destroy the line of the heroes that always seems to come up and slay so many of us right when things start going our way," he explained. He turned to Samba. "You ready for it?" he asked.
Drejsk grinned, pounding a fist into his palm. "I'll hash the smeads-er, smash the heads, excuse me-of anyone who gets in my way, and I'm looking forward to it!" he rumbled.
The thin guy whined a bit. "I'm no fighter!" he complained. "I mean, seriously, how can they make us ALL do this?" he asked. He waved to Drejsk. "I mean, sure, some of us, though we may look unlikely to be good fighters, are really good, like sumo-boy here, but I'm just a scholar! A skinny little librarian who keeps what few books we have here and teaches a scant few here Hylian!" He waved his arms a bit while saying this, ending with motioning towards Samba.
Samba paled a bit at the being the subject like that.
The third guy sighed and shook his head. "Please, Ko, you're just whining again, stop. It's hurting my ears," he said flatly. He was very blunt in things.
Drejsk nodded. "I agree w'Thyu," he said. "It's haking my ears murt, too."
Ko and Thyu said, annoyedly, in unison, "'Making my ears hurt.'"
Drejsk clamped his mouth. "Curse my tounge!" he murmured.
Ko shrugged. "Hey, that's how your mind works, so leave it at that," he said gently. "But still, back on subject, I'm NOT going to go out and find that object! Not only would it be suicide for me, we're not SUPPOSED to get it!" He pulled a small book from a bag on his belt and opened it. It was written in Hylian. He put on his glasses, which he retrieved from his belt as well. "I think I know what the cheif wants, and here's the description: 'Three parts that rings the ring of pain/For all who need the light of day/Should it be used by not the chosen/Weilder of evil's bane alone.'" He looked up. "It's talking about the blade of evil's bane in that last part," he explained. "I mean, how else can one 'weild evil's bane'? So, whoever holds that sword is the only one who can use that object, which would bring catastrophe to all life, since we all, in a way, need daylight." He motioned all around, turning around as he did. "We need sunlight to grow our most valuable crop, lizafloren, and without it, we'll have no commerce! And no commerce, that means no order, no order means senseless killing, senseless killing leads to-" He looked up from the book and found only Samba remained. The other two were gone, talking to each other as they walked off. Ko brought his arms down limply. "-nobody left," he finished.
Samba patted his tutor's back as he closed his eyes in defeat. "Thanks, Samba," he said. He stood erect again. "Well, I'd better get going," he said. "I've got a lesson to prepare for you guys later on. Get your training done with so that we can get started." He walked away, putting his book and glasses away as he did.
Samba nodded and went to his own training area. He trained alone, but he went through similar excersizes as Link did a couple hours previous. He also used his tail, though, to which he rather didn't attach any weapons, since he felt so restricted with something tied on him apart from his sheild. He also used his powerful legs, whose kicks he considered lethal, especially with his slightly large feet. With those large feet, though, came greater stability and skidding ability, and so he could stop his momentum quite well. The boat incedent was different, since he'd never jumped into a boat from that far away before. Also, his feet allowed him to be able to swim at least slightly well. He can't swim long, though, or else he'll get tired and drown. So, he didn't dislike his large feet-he used them, especially if someone makes fun of them. He had a fantastic jumping kick that he could land right in your face rather painfully.
Samba, on the topic of jumping, also practiced his jumps. He only jumped when needed, such as getting up ledges and clearing gaps. He, being a lizalfos, could jump higher than a hylian could-twice as high, actually. Therefore, he can also jump farther. Finally, he can also stand falls from greater distances. And coming down, he can land a number of kicks, if he puts his mind to it.
Finally, after a while of practice, which he didn't really need that much since he was very good already, Samba went back home and sat down to, groaningly, learn Hylian some more.
Things were going on until Vardi asked, in Hylian like they always did when having a lesson, "Why does the cheif want all the men to go out of the village?"
Ko sighed. "To find something dangerous, like the jerk he is," he replied in an undertone.
Vardi tilted her head. "What, does he want to blow something up with big bombs or something?" she asked.
Ko shook his head. "Bigger range. Think worldwide. At least Hyrule-wide," he answered, holding his arms out as if telling he caught a fish and it was THIIIIIS BIG, I swear! "As far as I can tell, it's something that the infamous lineage of heroes can only use. It's split in three parts." He opened his book and motioned for his students to lean in closer. He flipped to a map of Hyrule. Three spots were marked with a dot on the map. He pointed to one in their mountain range. In a whisper, he said, "There's actually one piece that's nearby." He flipped to another page and read, skimming down the page with his claw, "'Of the three scattered through the land/They can all be found buried within/A piece of land of unique type/One in rock, one in wood, one in land.'" He flipped back to the map. A black 'X' was through one of the spots and a circle was around the spot they all knew Hyrule Castle lay. "I've listened well to my sources, and they've all said that a part of something strange was recently placed under the care of the Royal Family," he continued. He moved his claw to the forested area a mark was in. "This is, as the text suggests later on, the place known as the Forest of Peril. It's supposedly a forest that almost has a mind of its own and acts as a sort of building, almost. They say it has vines that untangle and retangle like doors if you press in thier center. It's nearby the small village of Kochyrae." He indicated the spot nearest them again. "And here's where the part is supposed to be nearby us. It's in the most dangerous area we know of around here. You know what it is?" he asked, raising his head.
Vardi gasped. "The Empty Cavern!" she answered.
Ko nodded. "Correct, as far as I know," he responded. "We all know that trecherous place, the place where many have entered and none have escaped alive after exploring the entire cave system. It's said to be full of treasures, including one interesting one that is said to enable the user to surround thrown stones with fire. Although, the fire, people say, won't set things on fire, but merely hurts a lot more when the target is struck, so, unless Samba here gets it, it's pretty useless, if you ask me," the scholar mused aloud. (Samba was notorious for being able to throw small stones an incredible distance and with equally incredible accuracy.)
Vardi chuckled. "Yeah, give Samba some pebbles, and he's as dangerous as any archer," she complimented, looking at her big brother.
Samba blushed and put his hand on the back of his neck.
Ko sighed. "Now," he continued, looking at the two seriously, "don't tell ANYONE about this. I know exactly where the cheif wants to go, but it's more evil than I can stand." Ko was about as good as Samba's mother, and shared many of her opinions. "I don't like the fact we all have to go in a couple days, but that's the way things go."
Samba looked away, to the door. Vardi noticed. "You're nervous, aren't you, big brother?" she asked, tilting her head. Samba nodded. "Don't worry, you can do better than every single one of the guys here combined!"
"Vardi, please," Ko laughed, "that's going a little overboard, isn't it? Nobody here can take on the entire village's men simultaneously. I doubt even the cheif, dinofos or not, can." He sighed and rested his head on his paw, nestling his cheek into his palm. "All this talk of fighting...Why can't we just go for the best path we've got, peace with the rest of Hyrule?" he asked forlornly.
Vardi shook her head. "We're monsters, that's why," she answered. Samba clenched a fist beside her. Vardi looked down. "We, in this village, may be more good than the others, but we're so few. I mean, sure, there's the Gorons and the Zoras living in their cities, but we...we barely have enough good people to call ourselves a group. There's me, and you, Ko, and mother, and Samba..." She looked at him at this, remembering how mixed his feelings were. He was looking away, clenching his fist tightly, it shaking slightly. Vardi quietly muttered, "Oh...well...er..." She just couldn't find the words.
"Well, let's get off this touchy subject, shall we?" Ko asked brightly, getting the attention of his pupils again. "Good. Now, back on the newest vocabulary we have..."