Thread: The 'Legend' of Zelda (SnowGlassRoses)

And where do you think she is? Ganondorf asked boredly, sitting on Hyrule's mighty, majestic gilded throne as if he owned it, a once-dream that had now borne its fruit. P-please! I-I, I don't know anyth- the middle-aged Hylian woman choked out between sobs. The only response the armored form could muster was a sigh, one elbow leaning heavily upon an armrest of the throne, his jaw set against his palm. Fine then. She doesn't know anything either. ...Eighth? Ninth? Kill her too. N-no, wait!! she screamed, struggling against the intimidating form of the moblin holding her, a half-man, half-boar creature of dominating girth. The pond! she practically shrieked out, jerking with all her fear and all her adrenaline to get free of the moblin's grasp. She managed, albeit barely, and due well to the moblin's own actions of grabbing his weapon instead of holding her firm. Ganondorf's servant raised a pair of black, beady eyes to his lord, crossbow in hand, receiving only a bored, dissatisfied nod in return. Princess Zelda often spends her afternoons at the pond outs- thoop It was brisk, quick, the speed at which the crossbow bolt traveled straight to the woman's back, dropping her to a quivering mass upon the once-gorgeous marble floor. That floor was nearing two dozen bodies at this point, two dozen separate puddles of blood beneath their respective corpses. Ganondorf sighed. In a moment that boredom shifted, shifted to anger in the form of an armored fist slamming down on the other armrest of the elaborately decorated Hylian throne. How many now?! And we still haven't found her?! I've ordered you fools to search everywhere! We've even gone through her personal chef, her personal equestrian trainer, her personal tutor, her... her, what was that now? Her maid? The Gerudo man sneered. I grew up in a desert... This is disgusting! And yet none of the fools have led us to her! None of his servants voiced any response. Half were made of bone and magic, crafted without the ability to speak, and the others were a race of beast-men, speaking mainly in a variety of snorts and grunts. Both knew obedience, though. And both knew when to simply listen, heads bowed low like a dog preparing to be stricken. Eight now! Nine?! ...Everyone! he continued to shout. We'll kill every last person in the city if that's what it takes to... excellent. Ganondorf's face twisted to a wicked grin when he saw it. Three returned through the large, ornate double doors, a moblin and two skeletons, the former carrying a lithe, pale-skinned girl slung over a shoulder like a lifeless hunk of meat. Excellent, he repeated with a grin, standing, his eyes centering on a young woman whom he did not know, yet knew all the same. That beauty, the kind of which tales had reached even his people. The youth. The manner of her dress. Put her down. thud ...PUT. HER. DOWN. NOT DROP HER, YOU STUPID FUCKING- In an explosion that seemingly came from nowhere, in a burst of magic summoned out of thin air, a wave of flames cascaded across the chest and face of the hefty moblin guard. The beast shrieked, jumping back in response, falling over himself, but by the time it had happened it was simply that happened, already done. He was on fire, brought about by Ganondorf's rage, the flames feeding on his armor and eating at his skin. The other servants simply watched on, obedient dogs as they were, as the moblin guard fought to his feet, tumbled back against the doors, and flailed and squealed back into the adjacent grand marble hallway. The creature was out of sight, visually, but his high-pitched primal shrieks were unsettling. The dark man cared not, however, his twitching gaze turning instead to the fallen princess. What an imbecile... he brings her all the way here and then just drops her? And on her head, no less! If anyone was to damage his new toy, and damaged goods Zelda soon be, for multiple reasons, it would be by his hand, or by his order! Get her up! he snarled over to a nearby skeleton, casting a furious glance that could, and had, made those of flesh and blood quiver and bate their breath. Smelling salts! A pitcher of cold water! Hot oil! I don't care how, simply get her up!! I've... hm... heheh... I've waited just too long for this. His fingers gripped tight into their respective gloves. This wench is a princess no more. And she has crimes, sins she must atone for... heh... mm...