A pleasant day in the marketplace of Castle-Town. The sun was shining, a faint breeze was blowing, and the hustle and bustle calmed for a minute while many settled down, preparing for lunch in the mid-afternoon of the day. All was calm, and all was peaceful, even with the Festival of Mortal Hands going about. Guards stood on duty, watching over the tops of their spires and from the shade of their posts as happy, innocent individuals travelled through the city, enjoying themselves. It was still as boisterous as ever, though, as the cacophonous conversations of the extra merchants, warriors, wizards, and so on settled in for a break. Ah, but for the Castle Guard, there was no such thing as a break! Julius lamented his decision of employment as he walked through the city streets, passing varied empty stalls and booths as he patrolled the streets. Soon, he was in the main square: a luxurious fountain spewed crystal clear water from something not quite resembling a human figure, but Julius himself knew it well enough to be a fairy. Speaking of fairies, where was his? Ah, it didn’t matter; he knew she’d find her way back well enough. After all, what was the worst that could happen to her now? Well, maybe one of the more suspect wizards could . . . ah, but there wasn’t much use in entertaining that thought for long, as the clanging of metal began ringing out as he approached a stall. The heat of a forge sailed along the breeze, launching a gust of hot air into his face. It was intense; hotter than any forge he had recently worked with, at least. He approached who he assumed to be the proprietor of the stall: a short, yet well-built Zora. Judging by his physique, it seemed to him that he had seen more than his fair share of “accidents”: burn scars leapt across his torso, along with much more vicious, horrendous scarring. Torture? Maybe, but why? Julius knew that many of those scars wouldn’t be produced by conventional weapons, but perhaps he was once some form of extraordinary adventurer. Who knew! And that was some of the fun in interacting with people on days like this, anyways. He cleared his throat, removing his helmet for a second as the breeze swept across his short, golden hair. He reached into his Adventure Pouch, pulling out a sack full of rupees. Red gems, yellow ones; green and blue, all of them intermingled in his pouch. “Good afternoon!” Julius greeted the Zora with a grin and a hearty chuckle. “What sort of wares are you selling here? I assume you’re a smith, and a Zora one at that, so armors, perhaps?” “Aye. What are ye asking?” The smith replied as he began chanting a set of words, his palm pressed onto the breast of a suit of armor. It glowed navy for a second, before the energy settled into place. It was somewhat obvious what it was, at least to Julius. “Zora mail, eh? I’ve heard about it. Perhaps you’d be willing to sell a suit to me?” He replied as he finally came face to face with him. “These gems are yours, aye?” He replied, sifting through the sack. There was plenty of money; more than enough for a suit of his armor, at least. “And that armor you wear. A member of the Guard, are you? I’ve seen many a man in combat, but nary a soul who could best the best of you.” “Aye. It’s a hard life; even with the city so peaceful, we have many more places that need our constant protection. We’re a massive force, and only take the best. But, the armor. My current mail is more than protective enough for my tastes; but it leaves something to be desired. For instance, unlike Zora mail, I’d drown if I took a step into water. Zora mail, on the other hand . . .” he trailed off. “So you desire the protective qualities of our mail, yes? Lucky for you, I do good work. Quick, too. I’ll have it done in no time—“ “What about that piece you just finished there?” He interrupted. “From what I can see, it’d fit me well.” “I see.” He said, withdrawing to his workbench, bringing over the garb. It consisted of a dark breastplate, almost charcoal, with a layer of scales underneath. The neck had accents of lapis, a dark blue stone. Clamshell shaped pauldrons were a part of the ensemble, too, incorporating a wavy design across the surface of the armor. The markings existed even on the breastplate, though they were hardly noticeable. “Those markings help you to move faster when you’re underwater.” “I see. And your price?” Julius replied, taking the somewhat cumbersome armor into his hands. “See if it fits first, friend,” the smith replied. “You can change in the back of my stall if you feel the need.” And so he did. A snug fit indeed, though not even Julius could deny that he looked quite good dressed in it. It was comfortable, like a second skin, as he spun around in front of a mirror feeling like a belle at a ball. The golden-blue of the Lapis accenting the armor’s ebony plates which almost totally encased his torso looked wonderful, as well as the pastel coloring of the almost navy scales that hugged his back. They were rough, certainly, but were snug and added a sense of security. They were under the breastplate, too, but you could hardly tell. He felt a newness of breath every time he inhaled. It felt good to wear such a thing. Three sapphire stones were embedded close to the stomach of the armor, and they seemed more of a pure blue than even the scales of the armor. Golden accents formed a symbol dear to the Zora – their crest, so to speak, just as how the Hylians themselves so valued their triforce. “It feels good. Newness of breath, almost as tight as my skin – you do good work.” Julius remarked. Though, the black of his new mail did seem to contrast rather unsavorily with the plain steel of the rest of his ensemble. “Can you do anything with the rest of my armor to get it to match a bit more? As pompous as that sounds,” he added. “The armor wasn’t finished,” the smith responded. “T’was part of a set, I say. But, it feels good knowing I do good work. Take the armor. But I wouldn’t count on yer officers being so keen on the change of wardrobe,” the Zora continued, “since it does bear our crest and all. I can’t change it much either – those gems? They’re what keeps the magic in the armor. The scales, too, but there’s something about the gems that just does the job. Either way, you got any problems, come see me. Normally, I’m in the Domain, out in the Eastern Sea – but with that armor, you’d have no problem reaching me. Now, about the price . . . since it’s not exactly finished, I’ll let ye keep it for a bit of a discount, whaddaye say? Considering my stiff competition, I’ll say about half off.” “Fair enough,” Julius replied, sorting through his pouch. “About what? Fifty?” He questioned the craftsman, bringing out a handful of somewhat small gems. “Aye. That ought to do nicely,” he commented, the transaction completed, as an obviously satisfied costumer left his store. Though, he did look a bit dorky wearing that silver stuff with that black mail . . . ah, the trivialities of capitalist culture! What a beauty. And so, Julius walked off, garbed in new mail that would serve him quite well, old armor in hand (as heavy as it may be). It would take some time for other to get used to him wearing such a thing, though . . . {Julius gets equipped with ZORA ARMOR.}
