Shipwreck
[A fight, the last of too many, and then -- "BUT, VERILY, IT BE THE NATURE OF DREAMS TO END!" -- it is gone. All is gone.
[A gentle breeze blows across the waters of Lake Hylia, chasing away the last vestiges of a heavy rain. The chaos of the storm fades and peace again falls over the quiet lake. The only sounds are those of the wind against the grasses and the ever-present rhythm of the waves against the lakeshore. For a while, the lake is peaceful and calm and everything is as it should be.
[The waves continue breaking and receding. Break and recede. In, out. In, out.
[One wave brings a sword and drops it onto the sand. The next brings a shield with a Triforce on it. The third brings a single boot. The waves continue to leave their presents on the shore: a bow, a quiver and arrows, a broken lantern, several bottles, a torn pack still holding ruined supplies, and several large pieces of splintered wood. All are waterlogged at best and ruined at worst. The wood appears to be part -- but not all -- of some kind of raft; it is obvious that this raft has been destroyed by something, perhaps a storm. What is not obvious is where the strange craft came from, as it looks like none of the boats at the lake. Those who are familiar with oceans and ocean travel may be able to tell that this craft was meant to travel on the ocean before it was torn asunder by the elements.
[The waves continue breaking on the shore, playing a gentle tug o' war with the sand over the myriad pieces of debris. Some unfortunate traveler met a terrible fate out on the water.
[Beside one of the larger pieces of wood lies a man's body facedown in the sand, a thick rope still wound around his left arm and shoulder where he clung to the wreckage for dear life. He's soaked head to toe, green tunic and hat and honey brown hair clinging tightly to him. For a while, the only movement he gives is that of the waves gently rocking his body... and then, finally, he groans and shifts -- he is not dead yet.
[It takes some doing, but the young man slowly pulls himself up to his knees and looks around at the unfamiliar landscape, three large golden medallions on a chain around his neck clinking together with the motion. Where is he? he wonders. This looks nothing like Hyrule, nor is it Koholint...
[His voice is soft and hoarse:] Is... this... another dream?
[ He licks his dry lips and then looks quickly down at the water. The water is fresh, not salty! Fresh water! He all but falls back into the water, drinking greedily straight from the lake. He doesn't know how long he's been without water. And then he climbs back into a sit and groans; he drank too much, too fast. His stomach hurts now. Once he feels up to moving again, he carefully unwinds the slack rope from his arm, laying it out on the sand to dry. He'll take it with him. It might not be useable anymore -- though perhaps it will be -- but it did save his life.
[He takes another long look around, seeing nothing that strikes him as familiar. Has he by some miracle made it back to land? Or did one of the Nightmares find him? Is this some kind of revenge for destroying Dethl and his plan to rule Koholint forever?
[No. This place is too peaceful. It's calm and serene and... he hesitates to truly call it "real", given what happened on Koholint. Dream or no, he can't stay here. He needs to see what he can scavenge from what's left of his raft. He staggers to his feet, brushing the sand off the brown cloth on his arms and the bare skin of his legs. Great; he's missing one of his boots... he looks down. His Pegasus Boots! When he entered the dream, he lost everything but his sword and shield, so if he still has his boots, this is -- this is the waking world!
[He yanks off his hat and brushes the sand from his hair. If this is the real world, then... no, no. He can't rush this. First things first, he has to find his gear. It's probably all soaked, too. Hopefully not too much is ruined... He tucks the trio of medallions back under his green tunic and then starts down the shore to see what the gods decided to let him keep...]
[A gentle breeze blows across the waters of Lake Hylia, chasing away the last vestiges of a heavy rain. The chaos of the storm fades and peace again falls over the quiet lake. The only sounds are those of the wind against the grasses and the ever-present rhythm of the waves against the lakeshore. For a while, the lake is peaceful and calm and everything is as it should be.
[The waves continue breaking and receding. Break and recede. In, out. In, out.
[One wave brings a sword and drops it onto the sand. The next brings a shield with a Triforce on it. The third brings a single boot. The waves continue to leave their presents on the shore: a bow, a quiver and arrows, a broken lantern, several bottles, a torn pack still holding ruined supplies, and several large pieces of splintered wood. All are waterlogged at best and ruined at worst. The wood appears to be part -- but not all -- of some kind of raft; it is obvious that this raft has been destroyed by something, perhaps a storm. What is not obvious is where the strange craft came from, as it looks like none of the boats at the lake. Those who are familiar with oceans and ocean travel may be able to tell that this craft was meant to travel on the ocean before it was torn asunder by the elements.
[The waves continue breaking on the shore, playing a gentle tug o' war with the sand over the myriad pieces of debris. Some unfortunate traveler met a terrible fate out on the water.
[Beside one of the larger pieces of wood lies a man's body facedown in the sand, a thick rope still wound around his left arm and shoulder where he clung to the wreckage for dear life. He's soaked head to toe, green tunic and hat and honey brown hair clinging tightly to him. For a while, the only movement he gives is that of the waves gently rocking his body... and then, finally, he groans and shifts -- he is not dead yet.
[It takes some doing, but the young man slowly pulls himself up to his knees and looks around at the unfamiliar landscape, three large golden medallions on a chain around his neck clinking together with the motion. Where is he? he wonders. This looks nothing like Hyrule, nor is it Koholint...
[His voice is soft and hoarse:] Is... this... another dream?
[ He licks his dry lips and then looks quickly down at the water. The water is fresh, not salty! Fresh water! He all but falls back into the water, drinking greedily straight from the lake. He doesn't know how long he's been without water. And then he climbs back into a sit and groans; he drank too much, too fast. His stomach hurts now. Once he feels up to moving again, he carefully unwinds the slack rope from his arm, laying it out on the sand to dry. He'll take it with him. It might not be useable anymore -- though perhaps it will be -- but it did save his life.
[He takes another long look around, seeing nothing that strikes him as familiar. Has he by some miracle made it back to land? Or did one of the Nightmares find him? Is this some kind of revenge for destroying Dethl and his plan to rule Koholint forever?
[No. This place is too peaceful. It's calm and serene and... he hesitates to truly call it "real", given what happened on Koholint. Dream or no, he can't stay here. He needs to see what he can scavenge from what's left of his raft. He staggers to his feet, brushing the sand off the brown cloth on his arms and the bare skin of his legs. Great; he's missing one of his boots... he looks down. His Pegasus Boots! When he entered the dream, he lost everything but his sword and shield, so if he still has his boots, this is -- this is the waking world!
[He yanks off his hat and brushes the sand from his hair. If this is the real world, then... no, no. He can't rush this. First things first, he has to find his gear. It's probably all soaked, too. Hopefully not too much is ruined... He tucks the trio of medallions back under his green tunic and then starts down the shore to see what the gods decided to let him keep...]