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Next: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41645721/
Previous: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41611872/
First: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41342787/
====
It was still early in the day when Rook arrived in Tabantha Village, only a small handful of people were pottering around outside. They paid him little mind, being so close to Rito Village his kind were a common sight, instead they were focused on their day to day lives; sweeping their doorways and tending to the few hardy crops that would grow in Hebra's climate. Rook's eyes wandered aimlessly as he walked down the path, he found it hard to believe this place had once been reduced to ruins some five hundred years prior, back when The Calamity had wiped a large part of Hyrule's population clean off the map. The homes that dotted the road were of simple Hylian design; sturdy, sheltered, and holding a certain beauty to them. Ahead of him, Rook spotted what he was looking for, on one of the buildings a sign with a painted pot symbol could be seen, the General Shop.
As the door to the General Shop creaked open, a damp, musty smell assailed him, he heard a voice calling from the back room; "I'll be with you in just a moment my Goron friend! Warm yourself by the fire!" Rook glanced over to the fireplace, it was cold and dusty as if it hadn't been used in a long time. Confused, he glanced up to see an elderly Hylian hobbling behind the counter.
"Ah, that's better. What can I help you with, traveler? It must have been a long way from Death Mountain."
Rook cocked an eyebrow. "Goron? Death mountain? With all due respect, I think you need to get your eyes seen too. I am no Goron."
"Hrmm." The old man grumbled, he thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pair of large spectacles, and peered through them. "Oh! Oh my. So you aren't. The way you stomped into my shop you sounded just like one!" He chuckled heartily. "Well then, my feathered friend. What brings you out here so early?"
Rook did his best to not look offended, not that it would have mattered much. "I'm looking to purchase some travel supplies, a lantern, a map, that sort of thing."
"Aaah, I have plenty of those, the maps are just down there." The old man gestured towards the base of the counter, on one of the shelves, several rolled-up maps could be seen. "The lanterns are in the back. let me get one for you."
As the old man hobbled away into the back of the shop, Rook cast his eyes to the shelf nearby. A few seemingly random items were strewn about, a single bucket, a sack of... Something, as well as a few sticks of butter and a crate full of eggs. On the counter itself, some decorative pots and handmade rugs could be seen, along with a large, plain tapestry hanging on the wall. He suddenly felt much more appreciative of the shops back home, at least there was a guarantee of things being edible.
"Here we are." The old man returned, carrying a small oil lantern. "This is the only one I have left that can be attached to a belt. Forty rupees for the lantern, and another ten for the oil. For one of the maps, that'll be another fifty rupees. One hundred in total."
Rook quickly retrieved his pouch, and withdrew five red rupees, tossing them casually onto the counter. The old man smiled and handed him the items, but before Rook could turn away he called out.
"Tell me, where is it you're heading? It's not often I get to speak to travelers."
"Well, I don't really have a destination in mind."
"Aah, giving in to wanderlust, is it? That takes me back-"
"Not quite." Rook interrupted. "I am traveling to hone my swordsmanship, and hopefully earn some rupees while I'm at it."
"A worthy goal if ever I've heard one, though I can't say I've ever heard of a Rito swordsman." He chuckled "Don't your people favour the bow?"
There was a long pause, Rook scowled, his body tensed and his feathers bristled. He quickly turned his head in the direction of the window, avoiding the awkward stare from the old man.
"A-ah, a sensitive subject? I apologize, I didn't mean to offend you-"
"Well, you're doing a very good job of it so far!"
After another pause, Rook continued to stare silently out the window, arms folded, he could feel those same creeping tendrils of doubt working their way back into his head. 'Does everyone think me a fool?' he thought to himself. He shook his head, trying his best to push that grim specter from his mind, his eyes flicked back to the old man, who was now hobbling from behind the counter towards him.
"You said you wanted to improve your swordsmanship, didn't you?" The old man asked. "Here, let me see your map for a moment." Unfurling the map, he pointed to a region to the far southeast. "Down there, in Hateno Village, I heard they're looking for people to help keep the roads clear, not the best pay, but it'll certainly put what you know to the test." Rook gave a curt nod in response and turned to leave.
"Wait! Before you leave. I- didn't want to upset you. I am sorry."
Rook paused, said a quiet thanks, and excused himself from the shop.
Sparing little time, Rook hastily attached the lantern to his belt, stuffed the bottle of oil into his bag, and unfurled his map. In hindsight, it wasn't the best purchase, being unable to read meant that he couldn't make heads or tails of any of the named villages, save for the one the old man had circled. Frustrated, but undeterred, he shoved the map into his bag and strode eastwards, he knew that he was still in danger of being found and was itching to reach the stables as soon as possible. After a while, the road finally stopped climbing, at the peak of the hill Rook could see the silhouette of the Snowfield Stable, now the epicenter of a thriving settlement, amidst the snowy Tabantha tundra. He doubled his pace, walking briskly down the road, even in the summer the tundra was cold enough to have some patchy clumps of snow. Small tufts of grass could be seen poking out from some of the smaller snowdrifts, and a few of the hardier Hebran flowers were just visible on the sides of the road. The bitter winds didn't bother Rook much, his feathers kept him warm against even the most bracing winter chills. He couldn't help but feel sorry for the Hylians that made their home in Hebra, the winters had been growing steadily longer and harsher, but nobody knew why. He remembered hearing about one settlement in the mountains that was wiped out during one particularly devastating blizzard a few years ago, since then, nobody has dared try to settle up there.
It was the early afternoon by the time Rook finally arrived at Snowfield, it was a rather cramped settlement with many of the houses being connected in order to conserve warmth. The place had turned into something of a trade hub for hunting supplies over the years, the road was lined with stalls selling everything from bows to furs, dried meats to cured leather. There were merchants of all kinds here, Rito bowyers, Hylian leatherworkers, and one particularly miserable-looking Goron blacksmith were some of the few Rook encountered. Eventually, he came to the stables, and just in time. Ahead of him, he could see a carriage moments from departing. He sprinted forwards and tried to catch the driver's attention.
"Hey! Hey, wait!"
"Hm?" The driver turned lazily towards him. "Oh. You want a lift? I'm just about to head off."
"Depends. Where are you heading?"
"Aah, let's see." He paused to scratch his head. "I'll be stopping off at the stables near that old Coliseum to the south."
"Right. Where is that exactly, I've got a map here-"
"What. Can't you read? Look. It says right there." The driver jabbed at the map but flinched slightly upon seeing the filthy look he was being given by Rook. "O- oh! Right. Sorry. Fare is 30 Rupees. You riding with us or not?"
Rook tossed the driver some rupees and hopped up onto the carriage. The only two passengers besides himself were a pair of Hylians, both fast asleep and wrapped in furs, he took a seat quietly, he could feel his heart starting to pound again. This was his last moment to turn back, there was still a part of him, deep down, screaming to get off and go home, but he knew he couldn't. There was no future back in the village. And he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life being mocked by his people. As the cart shuddered to life, he felt a newfound sense of determination, Hateno Village was still a long way away, but it was a start.
====
Previous: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41611872/
First: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41342787/
====
It was still early in the day when Rook arrived in Tabantha Village, only a small handful of people were pottering around outside. They paid him little mind, being so close to Rito Village his kind were a common sight, instead they were focused on their day to day lives; sweeping their doorways and tending to the few hardy crops that would grow in Hebra's climate. Rook's eyes wandered aimlessly as he walked down the path, he found it hard to believe this place had once been reduced to ruins some five hundred years prior, back when The Calamity had wiped a large part of Hyrule's population clean off the map. The homes that dotted the road were of simple Hylian design; sturdy, sheltered, and holding a certain beauty to them. Ahead of him, Rook spotted what he was looking for, on one of the buildings a sign with a painted pot symbol could be seen, the General Shop.
As the door to the General Shop creaked open, a damp, musty smell assailed him, he heard a voice calling from the back room; "I'll be with you in just a moment my Goron friend! Warm yourself by the fire!" Rook glanced over to the fireplace, it was cold and dusty as if it hadn't been used in a long time. Confused, he glanced up to see an elderly Hylian hobbling behind the counter.
"Ah, that's better. What can I help you with, traveler? It must have been a long way from Death Mountain."
Rook cocked an eyebrow. "Goron? Death mountain? With all due respect, I think you need to get your eyes seen too. I am no Goron."
"Hrmm." The old man grumbled, he thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pair of large spectacles, and peered through them. "Oh! Oh my. So you aren't. The way you stomped into my shop you sounded just like one!" He chuckled heartily. "Well then, my feathered friend. What brings you out here so early?"
Rook did his best to not look offended, not that it would have mattered much. "I'm looking to purchase some travel supplies, a lantern, a map, that sort of thing."
"Aaah, I have plenty of those, the maps are just down there." The old man gestured towards the base of the counter, on one of the shelves, several rolled-up maps could be seen. "The lanterns are in the back. let me get one for you."
As the old man hobbled away into the back of the shop, Rook cast his eyes to the shelf nearby. A few seemingly random items were strewn about, a single bucket, a sack of... Something, as well as a few sticks of butter and a crate full of eggs. On the counter itself, some decorative pots and handmade rugs could be seen, along with a large, plain tapestry hanging on the wall. He suddenly felt much more appreciative of the shops back home, at least there was a guarantee of things being edible.
"Here we are." The old man returned, carrying a small oil lantern. "This is the only one I have left that can be attached to a belt. Forty rupees for the lantern, and another ten for the oil. For one of the maps, that'll be another fifty rupees. One hundred in total."
Rook quickly retrieved his pouch, and withdrew five red rupees, tossing them casually onto the counter. The old man smiled and handed him the items, but before Rook could turn away he called out.
"Tell me, where is it you're heading? It's not often I get to speak to travelers."
"Well, I don't really have a destination in mind."
"Aah, giving in to wanderlust, is it? That takes me back-"
"Not quite." Rook interrupted. "I am traveling to hone my swordsmanship, and hopefully earn some rupees while I'm at it."
"A worthy goal if ever I've heard one, though I can't say I've ever heard of a Rito swordsman." He chuckled "Don't your people favour the bow?"
There was a long pause, Rook scowled, his body tensed and his feathers bristled. He quickly turned his head in the direction of the window, avoiding the awkward stare from the old man.
"A-ah, a sensitive subject? I apologize, I didn't mean to offend you-"
"Well, you're doing a very good job of it so far!"
After another pause, Rook continued to stare silently out the window, arms folded, he could feel those same creeping tendrils of doubt working their way back into his head. 'Does everyone think me a fool?' he thought to himself. He shook his head, trying his best to push that grim specter from his mind, his eyes flicked back to the old man, who was now hobbling from behind the counter towards him.
"You said you wanted to improve your swordsmanship, didn't you?" The old man asked. "Here, let me see your map for a moment." Unfurling the map, he pointed to a region to the far southeast. "Down there, in Hateno Village, I heard they're looking for people to help keep the roads clear, not the best pay, but it'll certainly put what you know to the test." Rook gave a curt nod in response and turned to leave.
"Wait! Before you leave. I- didn't want to upset you. I am sorry."
Rook paused, said a quiet thanks, and excused himself from the shop.
Sparing little time, Rook hastily attached the lantern to his belt, stuffed the bottle of oil into his bag, and unfurled his map. In hindsight, it wasn't the best purchase, being unable to read meant that he couldn't make heads or tails of any of the named villages, save for the one the old man had circled. Frustrated, but undeterred, he shoved the map into his bag and strode eastwards, he knew that he was still in danger of being found and was itching to reach the stables as soon as possible. After a while, the road finally stopped climbing, at the peak of the hill Rook could see the silhouette of the Snowfield Stable, now the epicenter of a thriving settlement, amidst the snowy Tabantha tundra. He doubled his pace, walking briskly down the road, even in the summer the tundra was cold enough to have some patchy clumps of snow. Small tufts of grass could be seen poking out from some of the smaller snowdrifts, and a few of the hardier Hebran flowers were just visible on the sides of the road. The bitter winds didn't bother Rook much, his feathers kept him warm against even the most bracing winter chills. He couldn't help but feel sorry for the Hylians that made their home in Hebra, the winters had been growing steadily longer and harsher, but nobody knew why. He remembered hearing about one settlement in the mountains that was wiped out during one particularly devastating blizzard a few years ago, since then, nobody has dared try to settle up there.
It was the early afternoon by the time Rook finally arrived at Snowfield, it was a rather cramped settlement with many of the houses being connected in order to conserve warmth. The place had turned into something of a trade hub for hunting supplies over the years, the road was lined with stalls selling everything from bows to furs, dried meats to cured leather. There were merchants of all kinds here, Rito bowyers, Hylian leatherworkers, and one particularly miserable-looking Goron blacksmith were some of the few Rook encountered. Eventually, he came to the stables, and just in time. Ahead of him, he could see a carriage moments from departing. He sprinted forwards and tried to catch the driver's attention.
"Hey! Hey, wait!"
"Hm?" The driver turned lazily towards him. "Oh. You want a lift? I'm just about to head off."
"Depends. Where are you heading?"
"Aah, let's see." He paused to scratch his head. "I'll be stopping off at the stables near that old Coliseum to the south."
"Right. Where is that exactly, I've got a map here-"
"What. Can't you read? Look. It says right there." The driver jabbed at the map but flinched slightly upon seeing the filthy look he was being given by Rook. "O- oh! Right. Sorry. Fare is 30 Rupees. You riding with us or not?"
Rook tossed the driver some rupees and hopped up onto the carriage. The only two passengers besides himself were a pair of Hylians, both fast asleep and wrapped in furs, he took a seat quietly, he could feel his heart starting to pound again. This was his last moment to turn back, there was still a part of him, deep down, screaming to get off and go home, but he knew he couldn't. There was no future back in the village. And he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life being mocked by his people. As the cart shuddered to life, he felt a newfound sense of determination, Hateno Village was still a long way away, but it was a start.
====
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 1280 x 823px
File Size 234.2 kB
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