Woodfall Temple [Quill, Cloudzy, Adad]

Last edited, January 29

Players: Quill, Cloudzy, Adad
Characters: Marcus Heilari + Loft Kiratel [Quill], Julius Surgate [Cloudzy], Zajora Arcanum [Adad]

Just in Case: Old Reward (open) Just in Case: Old Reward (close)

Marcus' Reward: 0 + 15 = 15 r |
Loft's Reward: 6 + 15 = 21 r |

Marcus' Reward: 0 + 20 = 20 r
Loft's Reward: 6 + 10 = 16 r

-----------------

Mine. All mine. This swamp, this marsh, this Temple... all mine. I, and I alone, controlled Woodfall. My might, my sheer unrivaled power, ruled this land. The Deku cowered and groveled before me, bringing gifts of supplication before my Temple.

All according to plan. The Great One had restored me, bringing me back to full strength. I flexed my arm, feeling the powerful muscles ripple underneath my skin. I breathed deeply. Ah, to be alive again. The night air, blowing against my face. The acrid smog of the marsh, tingling against my skin. The howls and gurgling pops of the creatures, both within and outside my domain.

Exquisite.

I breathed deeply, savoring the sensation of living. None apposed me. I reigned supreme. And this time, there would be no meddlesome Hero to stop me.

Hm? What was this? Two individuals were trecking through my swamp, struggling amusingly past the acidic waters of my domain. Two Hylians...

I growled, and the cries from within the Temple froze for a moment, before continuing their wails. Hylians. Out of all the Terminian races, it was the Hylian race that I detested the most. He was a Hylian. I fingered the handle to my sword. I should strike them down where they stood, right here, right now, for their insolence. How dare they trespass onto my domain?

But no. A smirk crossed across my face as I brought my hand back down, away from the sword. No, I would let them come to me. This would be my revenge. I would allow them to enter into my Temple, and watch as they struggled through the Temple's depths. Then, when they came to me... then I would kill them. Slowly. No quick, honorable death would be granted to them. No, i would play with them first, proving my dominance over that lesser race.

Hm? What was this? Another Hylian boy? Wandering around aimlessly... searching for something? His companions, perhaps? It was too great of a coincidence, they must be together. A feral grin crossed my face. Well, well, well. If they weren't coming to me before, they were certainly going to now. It was rather amusing, the lengths to which a mortal would go for someone. This was, after all, how I had called the Hero to me, all that time ago.

I drew my sword, and set forth. I had bait to catch.

Come to me, foolish mortals. This time, I will not fall. The Jungle Warrior will have his revenge.

---___---___---___---

I sighed, plopping myself down on a log. I coughed, wincing at the hoarse feeling in my throat. I had spent the last ten minutes wandering the marsh-lands, calling Loft's name. But, the boy was nowhere to be found. I massaged my temples, annoyed. Of all the places to wander off, it had to be here. Woodfall.

I looked around, taking in the acidic purple water, the gurgles and pops of swamp gas, and the cries of the misshapen monsters that lived hidden behind the dark bushes.

"Nice one, Loft." I said, glaring at the barely-visible sky. "No, really, nice. A Demon's on the loose in the swamp, taking Deku and tourists into its home, and you decide to take in the scenery."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. What now? Loft was gone for the moment, either dead, captured, or lost, and I still didn't know where the Demon was. I heard a monster slither onto the log, but I didn't care much. My soldier-companion would take care of it. And, sure enough, before I knew it there was the sound of monster guts being squished in.

My stomach gurgled. I was hungry. I pulled out a strip of badly-cooked monster meat, gnawing on it distractedly. What to do, what to do.

Possibility One: Loft was lost.

Possibility Two: Loft was dead.

Possibility Three: Loft was captured.

Possibility Four: Loft was being an ass.

I hummed around the strip of meat, thinking. Possibility two was highly unlikely- Loft was more than capable of fending off a few swamp monsters, and he was skilled enough to avoid falling into the water.

Possibility one was also unlikely, as I had been calling for the last ten minutes through the swamp. He wouldn't have wandered off that far. If he had, he would have either decided to meet us here, at the altar the Deku used to present gifts of supplication to the Demon, or he would have just gone back to the Tourist Center and waited for us.

Possibility four was entirely plausible, but if so, then he would give up the game eventually. That only left Possibility Three.

I stood, stretching. Almost all the options led back here, to the altar. The best thing to do was to continue with the mission; find the Demon, kill the Demon, and hope that Loft turned up eventually.

"Come on," I said to my grizzled companion, "let's go check out the altar."

We had barely stepped foot onto the stone surface when the ground began to quake beneath us. I stumbled, lost my footing, and collapsed against one of the altar's support beams. "What the heck?"

The world was shaking, dizzying copies whirling past my confused eyes, my body heavy and trembling. A great grinding noise thundered through the air around us, and I clutched my ears in pain, curled up into a tight ball.

Finally, the thundering stopped. The ground was still. I lay there, panting heavily, before lifting my head, and observing the scene.

Meters in front of the altar, from within the swampy depths, had risen a great stone structure. Acidic water slid in sheets from its surface, gnarled trees twisted around its walls, gaping maw situated several dozen feet above the swampy waters below.

"Looks like we're expected," I said, rising to my feet. "C'mon, let's go. It'd be rude to keep our host waiting."

Zajora carefully made his way through the poisonous marshes. The bubbling acidic purple goop was especially ominous now. He'd just been passing through the swamp but there was definitely something intriguing calling him here. He couldn't put his finger on it but there was some new... presence that wasn't here on his previous trips. The swamp was also much more deadly than he remembered. The only thing that seemed to grow now was the Deku Babas, thriving on whatever malignant evil pervaded the swamp and the tainted water.

He shivered a bit and wondered again if he should just leave it alone and go home. But how could he just pass up something so exciting?

Suddenly the whole ground was shaking. The sudden rumbling knocked him down and then just as suddenly stopped. Making quick glances around to see what was happening a structure caught his eye. He rushed towards it, closing the distance fairly quickly. As he got closer he saw the grand temple where there wasn't anything just moments before. He cautiously made his way to the entrance, but no traps or monsters presented themselves. He noticed a duo making their way inside. Fellow adventure-seekers? Thieves? Supplicants to a mad swamp god? Angry dog-lovers from the last mad swamp god adventure?

Whatever the case he should stay back for now, in case they were the type of people that killed wandering children in giant poison-ridden dungeons. There were a surprising amount of such unsavory characters in the world. He would have thought his new look would dissuade most from leaping at his throat.

Zajora stealthily crept to the entrance and peeked in. The two figures didn't seem to be aware of his presence yet. He hung back and let them go forward first. After all if there were traps around he wanted someone else to spring them first. Besides, a dramatic entrance was more his style anyway.

I sighed, kneeling down at the edge of a pond of nasty purple liquid. "It's just like the stuff outside," I noted, sticking a nearby twig into the 'water.'

Nothing happened. "So, it's not acidic acid, then." I dropped the twig into the water, preferring not to risk shaking droplets onto myself. "But is it caustic...?"

I looked around. We were in an octagonal room, with two doors facing each other from opposite ends. There weren't any monsters in here, nothing to obstruct us from merely walking across and continuing on through the vine-twisted door. Nothing, of course, except the large pool of acid stretching from side to side, cutting the room neatly in two.

There was no other way to go; so far, only a single path had made its way through the Temple. And that path continued on through that door.

Keaton yipped, darting off my shoulder and pouncing on a pebble. It held up its find to me proudly.

"That's nice, Ki," I said, giving it a distracted pat on the head. Now, where could I find something to test the water? A sliver of skin, perhaps? Or maybe-

Keaton bumped against my leg again, and I looked down. "What, Ki?"

Keaton presented its find again. Sighing, I knelt down, and examined it. To my amazement, what had passed for a simple pebble was, in fact, a beetle. Its shell blended in perfectly with the dirt-covered floor, and its ball-shaped carapace was a perfect camouflage in this swamp Temple.

I took the beetle, which squirmed pitifully in my grasp. "Thanks, Keaton! This'll work perfectly." I took a wide stick and held it against the ground, a few inches into the 'water.' Then, I rolled the beetle towards the stick.

I waited a few moments, and pulled the stick slowly back towards dry land. "Welp," I said, examining the beetle, "it's definitely caustic."

Keaton chittered questioningly, but I chucked the beetle back into the poison. "You're better off not seeing, Ki."

I looked up at my companion. "Just a little tip; don't touch the water."

I sighed, looking at the pool between us and the door. "Now, how do we get across?"

---___---___---___---

Loft skipped merrily down the halls of the Woodfall Temple, singing to himself. "I'm a little teapot, short and stout! Here is my handle, here is my spout!" He came to a door, and cocked his head curiously.

"Ooh look! A door!" He stretched out a hand to open it, then glanced around nervously. "Oh, but Mr. Tattoos won't like it if I open it... he specifically told me not to... not to..."

His train of thought was interrupted by something bright flashing from behind a crack in the door. "SHINY!!!!"

Loft heaved the door open, and skipped inside. "shinyshinyshinsyhinsyinsihiynsynsSHINIIII GIME NOW!11"

"Quack."

"Ducky?"

"Quack...quack...QUAAAACK QUAAAAACK!!" >8{

"GAAAH RABID DUCKY RUUUUN AWAYYY!" Unfortunately for Loft, big iron bars had sealed the door shut, glinting ominously in the mage-light as they taunted him with their shiny silver steelness.

"Betrayed by the shiny!!! WHyyyyy???" He would have fallen to the ground, but he heard the ominous hnnnnk-ing sound that could mean only one thing...

"Incoming!" He screamed, throwing himself to one side. Something wet, and purple, soared over head, splattering against the door. The ominous liquid sludged down slowly, sticking to the stone surface.

Loft glanced around. The room was shaped like a box. One door, covered in yucky digestive fluids and mean shiny bars. That were not so shiny now. He grinned. That was what they got for being mean.

The ducky itself was a waddling Halloween-colored creature, with strange orange and black webbed feet, and bulbous yellow eyes. A long, pink tongue darted out, catching a fly that had followed Loft in.

Loft stared. Then he screamed. "FRANKEN-DUCKY!!!" He ran around the room in circles, which was quite an achievement, seeing as how the room was shaped like a box.

The not-so-ducky duck stared at him, watching as he ran, shrieking, around the room.

"GAAAaaaaaaAAAAAAAaaaaaAAAAA!!"

It snapped up another fly.

"GAAAaaaaaaAAAAAAaaaaaAAAAA!!"

It hopped up and down.

"GAAAAaaaaaaAAAAA-hey look, a ducky! HI, DUCKY!"

Finally, it had had enough. It pounced on the stupid meat-creature.

It had expected the human to shriek, falling to the ground, wailing as it devoured its face and tore out its useless brain.

What it had not expected was for the human's foot to snap forward, connecting solidly with its snout. "Bad ducky!"

It thumped against the floor, stunned, its mouth hanging open. It shook its head, intending to leap up and claw the human to death, but before it could, something was jammed into its mouth. A foot was slammed onto its stomach, and the human crouched down to stare into its eyes.

The human stared mercilessly into its yellow orbs, cold blue eyes paralyzing it in place. "Burn."

The Red Candle ignited, its flame swooshing forth and searing the creature's mouth. It shrieked, but the human held it down, ripping the Candle out and slamming its mouth shut. With nowhere else to go, the flame went down. Down, through the windpipe and into the lungs. Down, through the esophagus and into the stomach. Spreading through the creature's being, burning, searing, cooking the flesh and organs within.

The human released its mouth, stomping hard on its stomach and dancing back. A plume of disgusting smoke poured from the thing's mouth, dissipating into the air around them.

Loft knelt down, poking the thing's head softly. "Ducky? Ducky, you don't look so good. Ducky?"

He sighed, standing up. "Ducky won't answer. Ducky must be tired after all that gas."

"Now," he said, "where's that shiny thing I saw?" He searched the room for a moment, eyes raking over the vine twisting across the walls, the dirt and sparse undergrowth somehow managing to survive in the sunless room, a clump of grass and brown stuff where the creature slept- aha!

There, under a clump of grass, were two yellow rupees and two blue rupees. They looked like they had been stuffed quickly into it, and had probably been placed there as Loft had been entering the room.

"ShinyshyinshyinshiyinishynsyhiyinhiyisnSHINY!" Loft darted forward, grabbing the four rupees. He drooled, caressing their glittering surfaces. "Shiiiiiiiiny..."

He spun on the spot, holding his treasures high above his head. "Da da da DA! You got mail!"

With that little ritual completed, he merrily skipped back over to the door, fully intent on searching the rest of the Temple for more shiny stuff. Besides, he couldn't stay here; it was starting to smell.

---___---___---___---

((Yeaaaaah... so I might've gone a little overboard w/the Loft part. But hey. So, Cloudzy, I left the room-solving thingy to you (since I hear that's what good partners do). Any way you can think of to get us across is good. Go for it. Adad, I don't know what you're planning to do, SO looking forward to that! ^_^))

Zajora spied on the duo who seemed to be stuck on the wrong side of the river. One of them was testing the waters with a little keaton. That seemed familiar. He got a bit closer for another look and saw that it was indeed Marcus. What a coincidence for them to show up in the same place! He mentally measured the distance across the pond and how far his roc's cape would allow him to go. He could clear it pretty easily but that would leave these two stranded... He supposed Farore's Wind would work, though that would mean he'd have to return to castle town the hard way when this was over.

Then again Marcus was pretty light and the keaton couldn't weight enough to drag him down very much... With feather fall he could probably make it. Probably. And if all else failed he could ditch them and do a mid-air jump to safety. Grinning like a madman he began rushing towards Marcus from the shadowy alcove he'd been lurking in. He took Marcus in one hand and his keaton kit in the other and launched himself impossibly high. He cast feather fall on the three of them and their descent slowed suddenly as they drifted towards the other side. As they neared the other end of the pool his cape flew out behind him and he seemingly jumped off of nothing to the safe ground.

Hitting the ground with a roll he began laughing at the hilarity of the plan's success. "Marcus! How have you been? You seemed like you could use a hand." He said, still wearing the huge grin on his face. Jumping up, he dusted himself off and held out his hand to help Marcus up.

There was still that tired knight on the other side but he didn't really seem too important to Zajora. Besides, he looked tired. Tired people should sleep. Even if they were in poisonous temples with a lurking evil somewhere within and the possibility that it would just sink back underneath the acidic rivers.

I stumbled against the hard ground, staggering away from the mysterious individual who had grabbed me. Wait. I knew that voice.

"Zajora," I gasped, leaning against the wall, "it's you." I breathed in deep, shuddering gasps. "Forgive me for not shaking your hand."

I cleared my throat, and the tiny Keaton on my shoulder nipped quietly on my ear. "Right. Can you do that again for my companion, Julius, or is he too heavy for you?"

"Zajora," I said, laying a hand on his shoulder, "I know that look, I saw it when we ran across the Hylian Guards a while back. I know you don't like adults, and I know you probably don't want to help him, but..."

I swallowed, choosing my words carefully. "But we need him. He's super strong, and there are a lot of monsters that we'll need his help with. There's this huge Jungle Demon thing loose in this Temple, and I'd really rather have him with us when we meet it."

"Please, Zajora? Will you help him across?"

Zajora blinked at the sincere words. Hated adults? He supposed he did ridicule them more than others and was about to leave the knight behind without a second thought while helping Marcus... But that only meant the knight was heavier. Right?

Bah, internal struggling could come after rescuing the big fool. Hm, maybe Marcus had a point. Or not, he WAS helping him after all. Zajora got a running start and leaped over the river fairly easily. He went over to the man and grabbed his arm without any comment. "Here we GOOO!" He yelled, jumping for all he was worth. Featherfall helped negate the knight's weight and jumping-mid-air cleared the last bit. If only by inches.

If he'd only tripped a little or landed a little to the side then... No! Letting people dissolve was definitely bad. He now was forced to admit there might be something slightlyseriously wrong with him. "Alright he's here. Now let's go check out that room over there!"

Zajora threw open the door and a group of hissing deku babas greeted him, hissing and launching themselves in his general direction. He let go of the door and it crashed to the ground. "There are deku babas over there." He informed his allies. He pulled the door open again, launched a Din's burst through the opening and then quickly closed the door as various pieces of plant flew everywhere in the explosion. "There are no more deku babas!" He announced proudly. Opening the door for the final time, he walked in, holding it open for his friends.

There were more deku babas.

Zajora tilted his head as the new person began destroying the remaining babas in a fit of apparent hunger. Zajora happened to know the stems were rock hard after death and there were some pretty poisonous bits all throughout the head. But he did seem to clear the room with this desire so it couldn't be all bad right? In fact since wanting to eat the deku babas had produced such wonderful results why would he deny him the fruits of his labor? Maybe it wasn't a bad idea, like he originally thought. It would indeed cure his hunger. Maybe it was a good idea with a bit of roughness. Maybe all ideas were good but with varying amounts of roughness. In fact this had relatively less roughness than many other ideas he'd had, so really it was a good idea. If a slightly rough one.

The man now sidled over with his prize of deku bits and began inquiring in a whisper that was not nearly quiet enough not to reach the child mage standing a foot away whether Zajora could cook the bits. Zajora thought about this for a moment. If the idea was essentially a good one, and cooked food was better than raw food, that would certainly get rid of some of the roughness. And if a roughly good idea was less rough it began to seem more like... A good idea!

Zajora gathered some of the hardened deku sticks from the carnage and made a little fire. He even fashioned a little stove out of it with some sticks and a rock. "Instant kitchen!" He said proudly. "Enjoy your meal! It won't taste quite as good as a deku, but it should work."

A part of Zajora wondered if this fit of irrationality meant he did hate adults and people in general. The rest of him happily told it to shut up and leave the thinking and rationalizing to the pros. He smiled as he combed through the room, roasting any buds or roots that might still be able to recover.

"What," I grumbled, "was the point of bringing him across the pond if he was just going to poison you later?"

I mumbled darkly under my breath, applying another cold rag to Julius' face. I had already finished used Life on him, but I didn't want to go full-force and drain myself this early in the dungeon. I had already ragged pretty hard on Zajora for making me dip into my reserves for something this stupid, but the damage was done.

Now, all I could do was wait for Julius to wake up so we could go on. I considered launching into a tearful reminiscence of all our time spent together, of past experiences, and how close I'd come to losing him, and other crumby stuff only found in pregnant women's romance novels. But, since I was not in a pregnant woman's romance novel (hopefully, anyway), I would contend myself to tapping my fingers against my arm impatiently.

"C'mon, dude, when are you going to wake up?"

Zajora prodded Julius a bit. "You ate some Deku Babas and got sick. A lot. I mean, you actually ate them!" He began laughing aloud, wondering why no one else was joining in. It was pretty funny if you thought about it. Luckily he hadn't died or anything so it was still just a joke.

"Two rooms down guys! Way to go! We'll... Do whatever we're doing here in no time! Yeah!" Zajora cheered. Marcus seemed to be saying something about not killing friends, but he didn't really have time to listen to such trivial things. He wasn't killing friends, he was encouraging random stranger's dreams. There was a big difference, and now some people knew to stay away from Deku Babas. Just think if he hadn't been here! He could have died!

I stomped into the next room, frustrated at Zajora's sudden and inexplicable deaf-ness. Stupid mage-child, stupid guard for eating a monster's head in a poison swamp, stupid swamp, stupid monster, stupid Loft for getting lost, stupid-

"SHINIIIIIIII!!!!"

I froze, hardly daring to believe it.

"shinishinishinisihinishinisSHINIIII GIME MIIIINE!!!" >8D

Speak of the devil... A wide grin spread across my face, and I jogged quickly down the long and dirty passageways towards the voice.

I heard my companions shout, but I ignored them. Time for them later. Racing down the pathways, zigzagging past obstructions and leaping over scattered rubble, following the voice. Dimly, I was aware of the sounds of rapid footsteps behind me; muffled curses and irate calls, but I didn't pay any attention.

"RAZZA FRAZZA stupid gorram black fuzzy thingies! I KEEEL UUUUU!!!" >8{

The sounds were coming from behind a door; I skidded to a halt, and threw the door open.

A figure turned, its blue robes swishing loudly. Bird mask. Sharp talons. Blue ball of icy death magic.

"Craaaap."

---___---___---___---

[[It's mini-boss time, y'all!]]

I glared at Julius, incensed. "What, like this was my fault? Like I asked the Wizzrobe to be here? I didn't 'dramatically wait,' he turned around the moment I saw him! And besides," I continued, trailing a fine path of azure light through the air around me with a hand, "I can protect myself."

I looked down at the Wizzrobe. "I'm kinda surprised, though; why didn't that thing WizzWarp away? I mean, Farore knows I've read enough about Wizzrobes to know that they can all do that. So why...?"

I bit my lip, thinking. After a moment, I gave up, exasperated. "There's so much going on here we don't know about; where did this Temple come from? Who raised it? Who took Loft? And now this?"

I breathed heavily, trying to contain my emotions. I hated not being in control; usually, I always had a plan, a way out, but here? Here, there were so many variables, so many things I didn't know. It was killing me; how was I supposed to get anything done without knowing everything? Right now, I'm little more than a puppet, skillfully danced this way and that by an unseen marionette.

Not good. Not good at all.

---___---___---___---

Loft skipped through the hallways, grumbling. Stupid black fuzzy things; he had only wanted to kill them and harvest their brains for the New Moon Ceremony! No need to be so irritable...

He shook the bag in his let hand lightly. It was okay, though, he got what he wanted. "Chim Chimeney, Chim Chimeny, Chim Chim, Chereey..."

"...my fault..."

Loft stopped. Those words, echoing through the ruined hallway, bouncing across fallen column and over withered bushes. Marcus?

"...care of myself..."

Loft jumped forward, grabbing the decrepit remains of a wooden door, and yanked it open. Or, at least, he tried. The door was locked. He glared at it.

"Outta my way, door!" He pulled back a foot, and sent it crashing into the rotted wood. He tumbled into the room, gracefully rolling to his feet.

"Marcus," he squealed, "it's you!" He leaped forward in a giant hug-tackle, but was stopped by a giant blue crystal that had suddenly appeared between them.

"You could have just went around, you know." Marcus said, looking at the lone door post. "You didn't have to use the door. And," he added, crossing his arms, "not a chance, kiddo."

Loft pouted, and reached out his arms. "Aww, Loft hurt. Hug?"

"Haahahaha-no." Marcus deadpanned from across the shield, and Loft stuck his tongue out at him.

Loft spotted the dead body, and his mouth formed a perfect 'o.' "Is that Wizzie, Marcus?"

Marcus shook his head, still behind the safety of Nayru's Affection. "No, Loft, not him. Someone like him; a cousin."

Loft nodded, kneeling down by the body. "Yeah, he looks much less fun than Wizzie!"

He giggled, taking out his dagger again. "I could probably use your brain for the ceremony too, not-Wizzie. Angry Moon God likes brains."

Marcus sighed, dispelling the shields and grabbing Loft's wrist before he could do anything. "No, Loft."

"But Maaaarcuuuuuus!" Loft whined, yanking on Marcus' sleeve. "Angry Moon God won't be happy with me if I don't give him brains!"

"I'm sure you have plenty of brains by now, Loft," Marcus said wearily. "How many have you collected so far, a dozen?"

Loft, forgetting about the Wizzrobe completely, grabbed his bag and showed the contents proudly to Marcus. "Ta-duh!"

Inside the bag were thirteen squishy black pieces of fuzz, all sticking to each other or to the sides of the bag.

"Mmm..." Marcus said mildly, looking at the fuzz, "are these boes?"

"No," Loft said, laughing, "these are black fuzzy things, Marcus."

"My mistake," Marcus said softly, handing the bag back to the taller boy. "Alright then, take the bag back. Make sure you keep them safe for the New Moon Ceremony; you wouldn't want them to get destroyed! Angry Moon God wouldn't be too happy with you then, would he?"

"Nope nope nope!" Loft said cheerily, sitting down. "So, when's food?"

Marcus glanced at the Wizzrobe, then at Julius. "Hey..."

Zajora was impressed that Julius dispatched a full-fledged wizzrobe with so little trouble but tried not to show it. Of course the whole deku baba thing nullified any bonus points for his lucky shot. Mentally he upgraded he upgraded him from worthless sea-slug to minor insect of dubious usefulness. He'd never tell him that though, he seemed to have far too high an opinion of himself as it was. On the bright side though it appeared Loft was here! He had missed his utterly insane antics and free spirit in his travels.

"Well you know I've never liked Moon Gods, Loft. Particularly angry ones. So capricious and they never seem to help out. I'd just keep the brains for myself or sell them for a few rupees. Well if there's much of a market for brains anyway. Are they reagents for anything?" He stopped for a moment trying to consider this. He didn't remember ever needing brains for his spells but there were always a few crackpots looking to get a preserved brain supply as part of their "ReDead Apocalypse Plans". As if Castle Town would be overrun by ReDeads until everyone but the most prepared had succumbed to undeath.

"Come to think of it I remember some guy obsessed with ReDeads and Poes back in Castle Town looking for some brains. He's a bit... Off though. Way too many traps in his house to boot. Or you can do just what the silly Moon God wants and give him his tribute." Then Zajora's eyes lit up, "Or what if you POISONED the brains first! Can you kill a God? Because if so we're in the middle of a POISONOUS swamp! In fact it's almost like the inhabitants of this place are begging us to rip their brains out and offer their brains to some dark deity as an assassination attempt! Why didn't I see it before?"

...Then again perhaps Loft was simply being Loft and applying levels of sentience and power to things as he did with "candie" and "blizzie". But wow was it fun trying to see the world through his perspective. The world was so very clear! Everything had a purpose and he was completely unbound by the fetters of morality or even reality. He couldn't see how Marcus could be so annoyed. Certainly he react to situations in a civilized or even predictably uncivilized way and he did have a tendency for spouting odd songs he'd never heard before... But that was just a beautiful expression of freedom and an embodiment of Loft.

"Say Loft, where did you come from anyway? Before you met us in Castle Town. Do you have a family or anything like that? Or... A pack of ravenous Wolfos to look after you at least? Just wondering what sort of life you had. Seems like it must have been wild, knowing you and all!"

Loft stopped, his knife's sudden halt through the Wizzrobe's head making an odd, unpleasant squelching sound. He stood up, back bent over slightly, his eyes obscured by his long, matted hair. Shadows played across what little of his face was visible, and the steady drip, drip of the knife clutched in his left hand didn't help to lift the mood.

"Raised by Wolfos?" He asked, his voice hollow and deeper than his usual squeals. "I wish. A family?" He asked, twirling the knife idly. "Not really." He took a deep, shuddering breath, turning his head to stare blankly at Zajora.

"I was born with a fatal form of Autism. My... mother and father paid all the rupees in their vault, but they couldn't cure it. The healers gave me ten years; just ten years to live. My parents tried to give me the best life they could, but they were massacred in the destruction of Ruto when I was five. I was picked up on a refugee caravan, and was trained as an acrobat. But, when I told them that I could only help them for five more years, they threw me out. I wandered the caverns of the Western Caves, living off the rats, and the waste that all the spoiled aristocrats threw from their windows at night. At nine, I was ready to die."

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and looked at Marcus, smiling. "And that's when I met Marcus. He... well, he had been studying the effects of Autism on the human mind, and when I told him of my condition, he asked if he could... observe me. Hey, I was about to die, what did I care? I agreed, and he took me to his home, where he conducted many experiments on me. Finally, after three months of painful and intrusive magical probing, he announced that he believed to have discovered the source of my contagion."

He turned to face Zajora again, shrugging. "He healed me, and I've been travelling with him ever since. That's all there is too it, really. No amazing backstory, no raised-by-wolves cliche, no nothing. I'm wild because I thought I was going to die all my life; might as well have fun, right? Sorry if you're disappointed, but that's what happened. That's what made me who I am today; I still have the Autistic condition, buried somewhere inside my mind, but thanks to Marcus, I won't be dying any time soon."