Hyrule On Life, Part Three: Barinade

There’s a point in every person’s life when they have to take a deep breath, relax, and evaluate the circumstances that led them to where they are. Coercing a whale into eating him should inspire some pretty heavy introspection in Lonk. I’m going colonising, and that’s just the beginning of the puns (I make the pun warning in deadly earnestness).

Aww, cute little jellyfish. I’ve made some friends!

GUYS WHY DID YOU BRING YOUR OLD LADY.

(this space originally held a “friends like this, who needs anenomes” pun until it was brought to my attention that this is actually the oldest joke in the entire universe)

No, really…? Really? Barinade? You’re going to go with that? I… I  understand that there were almost certainly some crippling translation errors, but it is hard to put much emotional investment into a… a “battle” with a gyrating colonoscopy.

That was probably the closest we’re going to get to an official introduction. Barinade gathers around itself a protective shield of Biri (that’s made-up jibberish for “jellyfish”) and begins rotating around the chamber.

Well, these things follow a pretty reliable and time-tested pattern: an item or weapon obtained in the dungeon strips away a key defence of the monster, and the boomerang I’ve found seems to be serving me well enough as it is! Believe it or not, that’s only the second most valuable thing you can find inside the bloated bowels of a whale. This whale in particular has been rife with treasures: money, jewels, weapons, etc. Whales are the Christmas pudding of the marine world; you never know what denominations are going to turn up in them.

Evolution? Intelligent Design? It’s embarrassing, but one of you will have stand up and take responsibility for this. In the interest of equalising blame, the other one will be credited with the Dumbo octopus.

Calling the witness for the electrocution, your honour.

Well, it turns out that you should never underestimate an opponent just because they look like a raw bar that literally delivers. If you do, they will shoot beams of bio-electicity at you, knock you around like a rag doll, and make you shriek in an upsettingly shrill voice.

Men were hardier but almost completely androgynous in those days. The intense burns and internal bruising barely bother Lonk, so I direct him to head back into the fray. The boomerang works much more effectively than something decorated like a festival float really should.

Barinade flops placidly to the floor, looking bluer than, but not limited to: Tobias Funke, an entire clan of Smurfs, Violet Beauregarde, a Sam Kinison routine, the Tick, Eiffel 65, and hey I suddenly went dim and hollow on the inside. I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues.

Not quite subdued, Barinade recovers pretty quickly and has another spirograph defence of jellyfish up and running. I retreat for the usual reasons (fear, common sense, to pause and get a Toblerone) after trying to hit Barinade’s suddenly impenetrable carapace. Presumably it is the jellyfish causing all of this. They have to be stopped! Standing stock still is not a smart move (and technically not a move at all) because Barinade has other tricks to go along his whirling dervish routine: he combines it with a barrage of lightning and jellyfish launches. Eventually the jellyfish disconnect from the main body and a stray, half-hearted boomerang seems to somehow manoeuvre through the blockade and paralyse the errant invertebrate.

It almost works, but it seems to be acquiring an immunity to my boomerang from the repeated exposure. I try again, and with Barinade lazing around, I use the opportunity to boomewrangle the jellyfish out the picture. They’re the problem here. Out, vile jelly!

With the jellyfish out of our little contretemps, it’s easier to hit Barinade than ever before. Barinade’s main body descends under the floor, unleashing its final swansong of lightning. It breathes new life into the tired expression, “electric death explosion” .

Barinade, being a group of polyps and a little limited in tactical thinking, drops this strategy and resumes the endless spinning. Lonk delivers the coup de grace .

In its death throes, Barinade somehow becomes even more grotesque. Huge blisters grow and erupt in the space of a few seconds, spewing green pus in every direction. It’s an especially organic death.  I could be waggish about this, but in the name of sensitivity I’ll hold my tongue.

Did the moment pass to say “I liked the clot of his gibs”?

Another named foe vanquished. For you, Barinade, I Sing the Bio Electric.

Chyeah, TOTALLY.

Now that our very own, very personal Polyp-onnesian War is over, all that’s left is to track down Princess Ruto, harass her until she hands over the Zora Sapphire, and leave.

She’s just playing koi.

His binge finished, Jabu-Jabu purges us in a dazzling lightshow, with ceremony and pomp that the situation doesn’t really warrant. I harangue Ruto until she agrees to give me the Sapphire in exchange for Lonk marrying her at some non-specific point in the future. Lonk doesn’t spare it a second thought, being completely asexual in nature and unfamiliar with even the concept of sexual dimorphism.

With all three stones in my possession, I elect to head back to the other Princess in Lonk’s life, Zelda, and save the world, or at least her small personal circle of it. The quest is finally over, and I’m looking forward to taking some time off. Seven years sound right.

Lonk’s Epilogue:

That’s enough, Princess Ruto. No closer. Stop it. Stop it right now! “No” means “OH GOD, NO — NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO –*squelching, bubbling noises, terrifying silence*”

Hyrule On Life, Part Two: King Dodongo

Rejected Subtitle: Hail to the King, Baby

I take it back. He WAS a jerk, after all. If he had a grave and wasn’t just a petrified husk, I’d be spitting on it right now!

At the urging of the Great Deku Tree, I visited Hyrule Castle on a mission to save the world from the escalating forces of darkness. Usually I would have just gone back to bed, but it was his dying wish. This is the last deathbed request I’m going to be granting for a long time. I’m tempted to stop acquiescing to them entirely, but the law is pretty clear on where it stands on that.

Hyrule Castle: not only did a casual visit require sneaking past an entire garrison of soldiers and handling a disgusting, disease-ridden bird (and the bird’s owner, possessor of similar traits), but Lonk has had to socialise with somebody of the opposite gender twice today. The second of these was a Princess, and she pressed him into her service to visit the Gorons on Death Mountain and convince them to give up the sacred artefact of their forebears as well. What these trinkets do other than necessary plot magic is a little unclear , but I like to identify undercurrents of Hyrulian cultural superiority being imposed on the other races of the world here. It’s quite relevant social commentary, like how the chalice from the palace holds the brew that is true.

If any of this is just sounding like gibberish to you, I envy your ignorance!

Long(story)shot, I’m now traipsing through “Dodongo’s Cavern” at the behest of Darunia, leader of the Gorons. It’s become apparent that Gorons have become such finicky eaters that they refuse to eat any rock that isn’t imported from the cavern. My mission has degenerated into a quest to save a race of culinary snobs. MORE social commentary?!

As despicable as this is, they can keep the Dodongo’s Cavern: it’s hot, foreboding, and there are things trying to kill me around every corner. Not that I’m complaining:  apparently all that needs to be done to save the Gorons from succumbing to death by their own fickleness is the slaughter of every living thing in here. Hey, I was just wondering how the Gorons as a race could be LESS sympathetic!

I want this sordid moral chapter of the story to be over.

See? A large, ominous cavern with no visible entrances or exits! THE FUTURE IS ALREADY LOOKING BRIGHTER.

Whoa whoa whoa there Haskell Wexler, don’t try to fool me with your mastery of cinematic trickery – I know that’s me over there looking goofy. But if that’s me over there looking goofy… whose perspective is this from?

AAAHHHHH I HATE GETTING ANSWERS TO PERFECTLY REASONABLE QUESTIONS

More royalty!? You can’t spit for all the noble lineages in this place! They’re nothing but trouble. Like all good blue-bloods, I suspect he earned his title through fear, intimidation, and impractical breeding rules.

He bellows a challenge, and I accept, responding  in kind! Our  battle starts with a well-proven strategy: complete retreat. Violence won’t solve anything until it’s all going in his direction. Instead, it’s time to evaluate his strengths and weaknesses. I’ve noticed a few things about my opponent in the time I’ve had to analyse him:

1. He completely outclasses me in size and physical fortitude – that’s a STRENGTH
2. When threatened, King Dodongo curls up into a impenetrable ball of iron armour and crushes anything in his immediate path – likewise, STRENGTH
3. And he can breathe molten fire at a mere moment’s notice. …I’m TEMPTED to place that in the STRENGTH column, but hold that thought: maybe I’ll have look trying to find a weakness.

His hide is too tough to penetrate with my sword, deku nuts and sticks have no effect, and even my trusty children’s slingshot seem to be useless! He really isn’t being very sportsmanlike about this. Why couldn’t this dungeon offer a convenient new weapon to dispatch him with, like the previous one?

Well in case that was too subtle, there is a solution to this problem: a bomb! I told you violence would be the key to victory here! Those people advocating peaceful compromises have to be feeling pretty stupid at about this point! With a plan firmly in mind, every time the King prepares to breathe fire at me, my response is to stuff a bomb into his gaping mouth before he can douse me in his trademark magma blast.

Success! He did not like that at all.

While he’s just lying around, I take the opportunity to lay in a few slashes with my sword… the bright flashing colours indicate that he is not a happy camper!

The King lives! He gets up and once again tries to crush me with his “invincible pinwheel of death”, but I’ve read this part of the book before and easily dodge it. TALK ABOUT A ONE TRICK PONY. No, I’m just casting aspersions… he probably ate the one-trick pony. 

Another bomb, another barrage of sword swipes, and this (unconfirmed) pony-eater gives up the fight. I am Turok: DINOSAUR HUNTER. To mix sports metaphors, I’m willing to give him a mulligan on this prize fight, but he doesn’t seem to even admit he was beaten fair and square. The King curls up into a ball and rolls away to sulk… directly into the lava pit?

I.. uh, I… I drove my foe to suicide? That hardly seems like very fitting behaviour for the/a Hero of Time… …. …. if the bards ever sing tales of my deeds, I want this glaaaazed over.

And on that maudlin note, the final member of the royal Dodongo lineage expires.

Hyrule On Life, Part 1: Queen Gohma

Adventuring in Hyrule is off to a BAD START already… waking up before eleven is never a good first step, even when it isn’t a shrill, bleating pixie doing the waking. My sprite guide, Navi, is as heavy and unwieldy as a tool can be. She’s utterly convinced that she’s adventuring with Lonk, and nothing is going to change her mind. It could be worse…

What’s that, Navi? You say the Great Deku Tree wants to speak with me?

…

It seems I’ve been entrusted by the Great Deku Tree (or as I prefer to think of him and he definitely should be called, the Great Deku JERK) with stopping some kind of parasite that’s infesting him. Isn’t that a fine way to start my adventure. Listen up, Treebeard, I signed on to be either the or a Hero of Time, I’m not going to do this and you can’t make me.

He makes a convincing argument. :/

Oh well, once again, it could be worse. At least it’s quiet in here.

And dark.

And inhabited by colourful natives!

See, that’s what I need. A placard with my name and a three word description of my most endearing qualities on it. That would put an end to “Lonk”. A nametag would do, even!

So this is the mortal danger. I hate it when that happens, but it’s just like slipping into a hot bath. Still, thanks for the warning, Navi, this must be the parasite that’s making the Great Deku Jerk sick? I hope so. I’m no doctor and never played one on TV, so let’s just end her profane existence quickly and get this over with.

She seems to be harder to kill than I thought she would be. Not much harder, though, thankfully! See:

A quick snipe from my trusty slingshot into her glaringly obvious weakness does the trick. She collapses, her eye dazzling, and snicker snack goes Lonk’s vorpal blade!

Aww.

Now I feel guilty. She’s pretty cute, for a cursed horror parasite. I tell you the what, Gohmy: let’s put aside harsh words and Kokiri swords and live in peace.

BUT! It appears that Gohma has other plans as well, and she wisely hoofs it, away from my FURIOUS, UNRELENTING ASSAULT…

….Well, alright. Maybe it was a little relenting.

Well, despite my reluctance, the deed has been done! I defeated the dread curse! Queen Gohma has withdrawn and is surely even now contemplating changing her ways. I have full confidence that she will never be back to threaten me in any capacity, ever again!

What’s that you say, Navi!? She’s on the roof and my attacks are now completely ineffectual against her!?!

Oh come on, Gohma! I didn’t do this to you! Get back down here and die like my simplistic understanding of natural selection expects you to!

Events disappoint. The sling continues to have no effect, and now Gohma has started to emit a loud, foghorn-like bellow, which is definitely NOT good. It never is, have you noticed that? It’s time to revise the Unified Theory of Everything: FOGHORNS = BAD NEWS FOR EVERYONE.

Urgh, it’s a thousand times more biological than I feared: that devious bug is LAYING EGGS!

I fight off Gohma’s rugrats easily enough, but this turn of affairs has left a bad taste in my mouth. It’s not that I see anything wrong with letting children fight battles for you (it’s a tactic I might take up in the future), it’s that these children incubate, hatch, and expire in less time than it takes to even form an emotional attachment with their parents… why bring larvae into this world if you aren’t going to look after them, Gohma? “THEM WELFARE PARENTS”.

You know what? That’s it! I can empathise with her infesting the Great Deku Jerk. I could tolerate her grotesque appearance. I could live with her constant middling  attempts on my life.

But I.

Have.

Had.

Enough.

Of Queen Gohma and her irresponsible parenting!

That’s it. Madame Ovary is going down.

My next attack (this time using a Deku nut! Variety is the spice of life!) stuns her, bringing her to the ground, and once again the pathetic little spork is thrusted into her eye. It’s even more effective than I expected! (And I always have high expectations for sporks)

Au revoir, Queen Gohma. In hindsight… I don’t think she was a real queen.

With that monarch out of the way, I troop back to that glorified oxygen producer, the Great Deku Jerk himself, for my reward…

…some crummy culturally significant ancestral emerald?!

To make things worse, the Great Deku Jerk tries to casually drop the “I’m dying” bomb and follows with an applied demonstration.

…Oh, wait. He’s… he’s…. really gone? Really? I should probably stop calling him a jerk, then. I mean, I didn’t like the guy much, but Navi’s known him for much longer than I have. He’s probably the closest thing she has to a father. Navi, are you going to be alright? …Navi?

OKAY!!

Hyrule On Life – Explanations Are In Order

This is the first entry of Antagony Aunts, a journal of the timeless enemies and boss opponents in games-gone-by. The first feature, hereafter punned as Hyrule On Life, headlines the bosses of the celebrated game The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. Take it away:

You’ll step back in time (don’t be that concerned, there’ll still be plumbing and styling gel, it’s just 1996) as we adventure through the land of Hyrule; a mystical, magical place that is ONLY SOMETIMES warped beyond all recognition by dark forces beyond comprehension. No time to waste! Let’s go!

After a good night’s sleep, of course.

See you tomorrow morning!