#last wild camping i encountered a wild boar and it was as surprised as i was

[itsagrimm]

What's it like to walk through nature and spot an animal

[clumsydarknut]

The Spirit of the Hero - Chapter 5

My take on the AU by JoJo over @linkeduniverse . Posting this in celebration of finally acquiring a NES and SNES plus the gold cartridges of Zelda I and Zelda II. Took me a little longer to get a good handle on this one. Longest chapter yet. Enjoy.

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               The morning air was crisp and cool, frost glistening on every surface. Though the sky was still dark and the forest almost black, Link – now named Courage – knew the sun was up and simply hidden by the mountains to the east. It would be at least another hour before the sky lit up, and another hour beyond that for the light to penetrate the towering trees. Still, their party needed to set out.

               The night before had been an interesting one, to say the least. Setting aside the strange revelation that he now traveled with eight other variations of himself, the discussion on why they were brought together, how they ended up here, and what exactly is going on was plenty for his mind to chew on. Despite all their theories, they had only been able to determine one thing: someone was in danger, and a lot of it. The rest, Time had said, they couldn’t figure out without more information. It was agreed they would head to Castle Town – hopefully to speak with the Royal Family – and that they would break camp as early as possible the next morning.

               Courage took another breath, enjoying the near-silence of the sleeping woods for a moment longer. I’ll have to wake them. We can’t afford to wait for true daylight. He stood and looked to the fire where Light sat. They had kept it going for the sake of their islander, who couldn’t manage to keep warm without it. Wind was curled up in three extra blankets not a foot from the firepit and still shivering. Courage had done plenty of travel and was very used to acclimatizing quickly, but to live your whole life on a warm, tropical ocean and then be dropped in the middle of a pine forest at the start of winter? That would test even his abilities.

               “It’s time, then?” Light asked softly.

               “From the looks of it,” Courage replied, then gestured to the quivering bundle, “Wake him last, though. Doubt he’s had enough rest in this cold.”

               Light nodded and stood, making his way to the next-closest bedroll. Courage knelt next to Wild and put a hand to his sword before nudging the man gently.

               Just as he expected, Wild jolted awake and drew his sword halfway before realizing who was there. Courage smiled. I suppose we all have that in common. He motioned for Wild to sheath his sword and to try to stay quiet, nodding his head in the direction of Wind. Wild nodded in return, calming his pant and setting to preparing breakfast.

               The others awoke in a much similar way. Most started to draw swords and rose with a burst of adrenaline. Light almost had an ear taken off when he nudged Twilight, for which Twilight apologized profusely. Courage approached Legend with that reaction in mind, but to his surprise Legend didn’t stir after a first, second, or third nudge. It wasn’t until Wild sprinkled some pine needles over his face that the man showed signs of life, and those signs were… less than ecstatic.

               Once Legend was awake and no longer bloodthirsty, they set to breaking camp. Light and Courage were already fully equipped, having been on watch, and most of the others only had to strap on their weapons. Time and Warriors, however, had opted not to sleep in their armor. The time it took Warriors to don his vambraces and Time his plated cuirass allowed for Wild to roast some of the frozen boar, which, when Wind awoke, he found he desperately needed.

               “I c-can’t believe how w-well this is warming me up,” he chattered from inside his blanket cocoon.

               “Pink safflina does that,” Wild stated through a mouthful, “as do sunshrooms, if you cook them. Handy in a pinch.”

               “These will help, too.” Light held out a pair of boots. Wind dropped his breakfast and shoved them onto his feet.

               “Ohhhh man that’s so much better,” he sighed, flopping back on the forest floor.

               “I’ll need them back eventually,” Light intoned. “You can probably get your own when we get to Lehara.”

               At that Wind heaved himself back into a sitting position, shoved the rest of the boar steak into his mouth, and leapt to his feet. “Weshl ngu bem!” In one motion he had his gear off the ground and on his back, and without another word was headed down the road. The other Links exchanged surprised looks and hastened to get going themselves. Courage quickly rolled up the abandoned blanket cocoon and stowed it in his enchanted pouch, jogging to catch up with his lobster-shirted friend.

               Courage had expected the journey to be less quiet than it had been with only five of them, but he was soon proven wrong. While Legend’s occasional cursing was joined by Wind humming here and there, no one said a word. Rather than tense, though, it seemed peaceful. I suppose, Courage thought, we all have probably spent a fair amount of time alone. He certainly had.

               Courage’s mind drifted to his time in the labyrinths. He’d been so young then. How old had he been? Could he even remember? Maybe somewhere around thirteen, fourteen? That time was so foggy. Even if he had known how old he was when he encountered Impa, the ancient underground of Hyrule didn’t show the passage of time. Devoid of light, warmth, and populated only by monsters, the months he spent there – or perhaps years; he did not know – had left him without a lot to say. When your lantern went out and all you could do was feel your way along the walls, silence was survival.

               More than that, silence was safety. In the dankness of a decrepit dungeon, it gave him comfort to hear all that was going on in a room. To know with a surety that nothing could sneak up on him. To always have the upper hand. Silence gave him that. In silence there were no surprises, and when surprises included blades to the gut, it was better that you didn’t encounter any. Whether or not the other Links shared his reasoning, he had no doubt that they had their own.

               The walk went rather quickly, for being so quiet. Midday came and warmed their skin as they paused to pass out some of the deer jerky, then passed quickly into dusk as they came up on the town. The forest gave way into outlying farms leading up to a mess of buildings set on a river. Lehara was less of a town and more of a small city. Courage hadn’t seen many of this size, and felt something twist in the back of his stomach looking at the complicated streets. It made him uneasy, being only able to see where the town began and not where it ended. Too much potential for surprises.

               “Courage?”

               Courage gave a start and turned to Time. “Hm? What?”

               “He asked if you were alright,” Legend sighed, tilting his head. “’Courage’ is seeming less and less like a fitting name. You look like you could be sick.”

               Courage gave him a short glare and turned to answer Time. “I’m fine. Just got a bad feeling is all.”

               Time nodded. “Let’s find an inn quickly. A heavily armed group of our size is sure to draw attention.”

               “I need my own boots, still,” Wind piped up. He kicked the toe of one foot into the ground and looked sheepishly at Light. “They’re, uh, a bit small.”

               “All the more reason to find an inn,” Warriors put in, stretching his arms over his head. “The innkeeper – if he’s worth his salt – can tell us where the best cobbler is.”

               The group set off into the town at a quick pace. The streets were nearly empty, with only a few stragglers rushing about their last-minute errands. Courage noticed suspicious glances being cast out from under the awnings of roadside stalls and windows that quickly slid shut. The feeling of mistrust wasn’t new to him – in his time the people were necessarily suspicious of everyone – but feeling it on this scale was something else. I guess I am traveling with some pretty conspicuous partners. He generally didn’t wear much chainmail and blended in well with any crowd of travelers; Time’s full suit of armor, however, did not.

               “Mommy,” a little boy squealed, clutching his mother’s apron, “Is that man a soldier?”

               The boy’s mother patted his head and glanced warily at the group. “I’m not sure, sweetie, but it’s rude to point like that. Come along.”

               Time chuckled as the woman scurried away, herding her son along in front of her. “I forget how extravagant this armor is.”

               Warriors raised an eyebrow. “Is that not your usual garb?”

               “I wouldn’t say that it is,” Time replied, examining the back of his gauntlet. “I’ve certainly used this equipment before, but not often, and not for a very long time.” He laughed. “I suppose, though, that even if I were dressed more plainly, your fine tunic and pauldrons would still draw the same attention.”

               Warriors chuckled. “You’re right, but in my case that’s what they’re meant to do.”

               “Over there!” Twilight rushed to the front of the group, pointing down the street. Courage quickly found what he was looking at – a carved hanging sign of a gluttonous cyclops with the name “The Drunken Hinox” embellished in tarnished silver underneath. On the street below was a barrel with a plank leaning against it that read “Lodgings Available” in a messy scrawl. The Links exchanged nods and pushed open the door.

               The bottom floor – as expected – was a tavern of sorts. Considerably larger than the one at Beaverville, the spacious room held a dozen tables and had a small stage on the opposite wall from the bar. Courage breathed a sigh of relief at seeing most of the tables full and hearing raucous singing fill the air. Their party would likely go unnoticed, even with their heavy gear. Assuming they didn’t stir up any trouble, of course.

               “G’devening, young masters.” A short, round man with a shiny bald head and scraggly red mustache called to them from behind the bar. “Here for a drink? Finest ale in all of Hyrule is served right here!”

               “Actually,” Legend said, stepping up to the counter, “we’re here for the ‘inn’ part of your fine establishment. How much is one night?”

               The man looked at the party and stroked his chin. “Nine of you, eh? Well, each of my rooms only has two beds, but I suppose if you paid for four I could give you three and haul an extra mattress into each of them. That’d run you… 800 rupees?” The man ignored Legend’s dumbfounded face and picked up a stein and a washcloth. “No, 850 with a ninth breakfast thrown in. I can discount you on the rooms but my wife’ll have my head if I discount her work in the kitchens.”

               Courage could barely believe his ears. 850 rupees? He’d never so much as seen that much money, let alone spent that much on a room. Based on the expressions the other Links bore, he wasn’t alone in that. What kind of economic boom is Hyrule in right now that an inn warrants that kind of pricetag?

               Light choked out a cough before cutting in. “Sir, I’m sure this town has many other inns where we can find a better price. Surely you can cut that down a little further?”

               The man smiled. “Now, son, I know what you’re thinking. ‘He’s taking us for fools and raising the price for us cuz we’re from out of town’, right?” The man knocked on the sign above the bar with the back of his fist. “I don’t roll that way, young master. My prices are set right here. Lehara gets enough travelers for me to make a living without that kind of dirty work.”

               Courage squinted at the board, and sure enough, his prices were listed there, however faintly. 200 still seems ridiculous, especially where one night was only 30 in the next town over.

               Wild laughed suddenly, startling the other Links out of their stupor. He sauntered up to the bar and leaned over it, turning his back to the rest of the tavern and blocking any strangers view of the three, shimmering gold rupees he placed on the counter. Courage could barely believe his eyes.

               “900 rupees for nine travelers in three rooms seems a fair price,” Wild hummed, “wouldn’t you say? ”

               The shock that overtook the Links was nothing compared to that which hit the barkeep. Courage nearly jumped out of his skin when the stein the man was cleaning hit the ground with a loud clatter. It wasn’t loud enough to draw the attention of the whole room, but a few drunkards down the bar glanced their way. Exactly what we need.

               The barkeep stammered his reply. “Y-you don’t seem to have much sense for bargaining, son, I wasn’t asking for that much.”

               Wild slid the shiny gold gems discreetly across the counter. “Oh I know, but decent people deserve decent rewards. I can’t imagine it’s easy to compete in a hub town like this with a policy of honesty.” The long-haired man took on a sly grin. “It’s not like I’m short on cash anyhow.”

               The innkeeper’s eyes were nearly as round as his figure now, but he took the jewels and nodded. “R-right this way, young masters…”

               Wild sauntered after the man much more confidently than his awestruck fellows. Is he really that naive? Courage kept his hand on the hilt of his blade as they followed the pudgy little man out of the room. This is the second time he’s flaunted something valuable within earshot of others. Doesn’t he know that makes him a prime target?

               “Here you are, sirs,” the man said, gesturing to the three doors at the end of the first floor corridor, “I’ll have my staff bring you those cots right away.” He pulled two large key rings out of his apron pocket and fingered through the heftier. With a changle he unhooked three marked keys and handed them to Wild, gave a casual salute, and waddled back to the tavern.

               Wind clapped Wild on the back with a whistle. “Wow, Wild, didn’t know you carried that kind of cash on you.”

               Wild smiled and examined the keys with fascination. “These are high-quality keys. I sure hope he didn’t give us his best rooms.”

               “Oh shut up,” Legend growled, snatching them from his hands. “I hope to the Hylia he did. We’ll need them with the giant, flashing ‘rob me’ sign you just hung on our backs!”

               Wild looked taken aback. “’Rob me’ sign? What?”

               “He’s right,” Light sighed. “You really shouldn’t flaunt your wealth like that.”

               “Flaunt?” Wild scratched his head and looked at Wind, who was equally confused. “I wasn’t- I just- the man’s a nice guy!”

               “Unfortunately,” Time added solemnly, “I don’t think the innkeeper was the only one privy to our conversation.”

               “And even if no one else heard exactly what was going on,” Twilight added, “I’m pretty certain the people down the bar picked up on the fact that something interesting happened.”

               Wild opened his mouth to respond, but Courage couldn’t stand to let tensions rise any higher – he may agree with the others, but berating Wild now wouldn’t change what happened.

               “Making a scene like this isn’t going to help,” he cut in, passing a level stare around the circle. “We have more pressing matters than a few thieves in a random tavern. Let’s just settle in for the night.”

               “You’re right,” Warriors said firmly. “We need to focus on the big picture right now.”

               The men shared uncomfortable looks but all hummed in agreement. Courage felt a twinge in his gut. He still couldn’t remember what had happened after he began his toast at the feast. Is she safe? Is she even alive? Dear Farore please let her be alive.

               Sky broke the tense silence with a change of subject. “Let’s decide on rooms. That’s a good place to start.”

               “I call Twilight!” Wind shouted excitedly.

               Courage felt himself relax. She’s fine. I’ll take care of this mess soon enough and then I’ll be back. He put a hand to the lump in his pouch and smiled. I’ll be back soon, Zelda.

               Wild rolled over uncomfortably on the feather cot. It was well past dark now – likely past midnight – but he still couldn’t sleep. Not that taking one of the nice, plush beds would have helped; he took the cot on purpose since he knew it wouldn’t matter. He hadn’t slept comfortably since… since before he could remember. Sure, there had been the occasional specialty bed at an inn or spa somewhere that made it so he could at least dream something, but even that hadn’t been deep or particularly restful.

               He chuckled to himself. He had tried a Zora waterbed once, but if one even so much as wiggled a toe the watertight mattress would tremble and make all sorts of noise. When he had finally drifted off, he shifted his arm, startling himself awake and leaping off the bed with a screech, sword in hand. He grinned at the memory. That poor innkeeper nearly had a heart attack.

               Luckily he didn’t usually need much sleep, either. He hardly slept the night before in their camp, and didn’t feel particularly tired now either. Did he even remember what a good night’s rest felt like? He couldn’t recall. He’d never really wanted one anyhow. At least, not more than to see what the difference was. Was there a difference? Would he function better with more sleep?

               A knot formed in his stomach and his smile faded. He ran his hand over the web of scars on his arm. Did I function better? Something tugged at the back of his mind – a gnawing feeling he couldn’t place, but couldn’t ignore. Impressions trickled into his consciousness. Complete blackness. Water. He was underwater. Weight on his chest. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

               He shook his head and pulled his hand away, rolling onto his stomach and shoving both fists under his pillow to stop himself from tracing the wounds. I don’t need to think about that.

               That was one disadvantage of not sleeping much – it left one far too much time to think. In his opinion, though, there were far more advantages than disadvantages. You didn’t absolutely need it, for instance. If you were in a rush, you didn’t really have to stop for camp. You were also less likely to get caught off guard. You could be your own watch when you camped on your own, and an extra set of ears when you had companions. In general he considered it a blessing.

               Sky shifted in his bed, shaking Wild from his thoughts. He listened as the man’s breathing fell back into the slow rhythm of sleep. Courage lay in the other bed, his breath almost imperceptible. Wild was glad these two were the ones rooming with him. The others had all gotten so upset with him earlier. Had it really been such a big deal that they had to go and lecture him on it? He had been discreet, hadn’t he? At least he wasn’t actively showing it off!

               He frowned. So I’m being obvious, but Time and Warriors with their expensive armor aren’t? Time’s pauldrons have gold inlays! And Legend’s got like, 30 shiny jeweled rings on each hand. Why are they so worried about me making us a target? Honestly if any of them are half as good at swordplay as I am we really shouldn’t have to worry about bandits at all.

               Almost as if summoned by his thoughts, he suddenly felt a hand grab his hair and yank his head off the down pillow. He gasped as a sliver of cold metal met his throat.

               “Where’zzz yer wallet?” a raspy voice slurred quietly into his ear. Wild felt a boot press down on his back as the man pulled harder, and he swallowed the cry that attempted to escape.

               “C-cabinet…” Wild breathed. The man didn’t seem to hear and yanked harder, and Wild hissed.

               “Where’z yer wallet?!” the man said louder. His breath smelled of booze and the way the knife wobbled against Wild’s skin said he was very drunk, never mind the fact that he was no longer maintaining any semblance of stealth. “Tellme whereitiz! I’llzzslit yer throat!”

               Wild heard feet hit the floor as the man started to scream. Courage’s voice started to call out to him but the man drowned it out.

               “Donnntry it, boy!” the madman shouted. “Whozzzzswordoyou think’m using, huh?” Wild felt the steel sliver into his skin just a hair as the man cackled maniacally. “Damn, kiddo, if I didn’know yer friend’ad sucha hefffty wallet I mightajustaken thizzz beaut!” He leaned into Wild’s back and gave a tug. Wild couldn’t stop the yelp.

               Footfalls sounded in the next room and Warriors’ muffled but commanding voice penetrated the wall. The bandit tensed and pressed the sword closer.

               “ShhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHH!” he demanded, “Dammmmmitnow there’zzzno clean getaway. I tol- told you to be quiet!” The man removed his boot and yanked Wild to his feet, keeping the blade against his neck. If Wild weren’t so preoccupied with his life hanging in the balance he might have stopped to admire Courage’s ruby-encrusted blade – or the miraculous fact that the inebriated bandit hadn’t slit his throat by accident already. Instead, now that he could somewhat see the dark room, he searched desperately for a solution.

               His own sword was tucked under the cot on the opposite side from where Courage now stood. Courage had the sense not to go for either of their bows, which were locked safely in the cabinets with their other possessions. Even if he had a weapon, though, the drunkard had Wild safely caught as a hostage – even if the others burst into the room right this second that wouldn’t free him from his grasp. He doubted he could overpower the man without getting cut in the process – any movement would drive the pristine blade edge right through skin and into his trachea. And most amazingly, how was Sky still asleep?

               “Put down the sword,” Courage urged calmly, “We’ll give you our wallets, just let go of my friend.”

               “Hellllyou will!” the man jabbed back. “Gimme the cashhhfirst!”

               “Easy, easy,” Courage continued, inching toward the cabinets. “Give me a second to get them.”

               The man quavered and wobbled slightly as Courage turned to unlock the pine cupboards, barely visible in the dark. The click of the key in the lock made the man flinch and Wild inhaled sharply as the blade jolted slightly. Courage exhaled and wrapped his hand around the brass doorknob.

               Just as he moved to swing the doors open, the other Links crashed into the room holding lamps and swords. Courage jerked around and started to shout a warning and the bandit screamed at the sudden interruption. Wild felt the steel shift and he sent one final plea to Hylia. Please, let Zelda be happy.

               Everything went quiet. Time came to a halt. No pain. No hurt. Just silence.

               And then, a gurgle of blood.

               Wild opened his eyes slowly and registered a few drops of crimson trickling down his bare chest. The thick liquid was sticky and warm, staining his skin and scars. But, still, the pain didn’t come.

               Wild turned to look at the bandit and suddenly realized why. He was an ugly man, with a ratty brown beard and wild eyes. Eyes now open in horror as he choked on his own blood, coughing and bubbling more up over his lips. His sword arm lay severed on the mattress below, and through his torso was run a very familiar blade.

               Sky pushed the man off the sword with a grimace, hefting it in his hand and frowning down at the dying drunkard. Even covered in blood, the sword glowed like a star. The holy light of the blade shimmered off the gem set in the deep blue hilt, which was carved in the shape of Hylia’s sacred bird. At the base of the blade was inscribed the most ancient symbol in Hyrule – the crest of the Triforce.

               The Master Sword.

[katlyn1948]

Evading Capture: Chapter 2

Evading Capture

Katlyn1948

Chapter Management

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Chapter 2: Observations

Summary:

Arya observes the group.

Notes:

I’m sorry this took so long to get up! I’ve been really busy, considering I’m trying to find another job. But that’s besides the point. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the chapter count has now gone to a ? well that’s because I don’t know how many it will take for me to finish this particular story. I’m trying my best to keep up with what I have, but it’s a lot. I am just grateful for the lovely kudos and comments on anything I write! It truly does keep me going. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Chapter Text

Her head was throbbing and the mixture of voices surrounding her were all jumbled together in a big mess. Slowly, she opened her eyes and noticed the change of scenery around her. She was no longer in the woods, but rather on a horse, her back propped up again a firm chest. Broad arms surrounded her, grasping onto the reigns before her. She glanced down and noticed that her hands were bound at the wrists with a large rope, keeping her firm in place.

“I was wondering when you would wake.” The man behind her spoke. She tried to crane her neck to see who her riding companion was, but the ache in head prevented her from doing so. The point was moot; however, considering she distinctively remembered his voice. The man who knocked her out cold.

“You shouldn’t have hit me so hard, then.” She countered, her voice dripping with venom. “Who does that? Knocking out a poor helpless woman!”

Arya heard him scoff behind her, “The last thing you are, milady, is poor and helpless.”

“How would you know?” She huffed, not expecting him to answer.

“Because you have managed to evade capture from The Brotherhood for the last…six moons? You also left a trail of bodies in your wake. Most of those men were twice your size, so I can safely say that you are not helpless. You are also quite the thief; pit pocketing, from what I heard, is a serious crime.” He chastised.

“Only if you get caught.” She jabbed.

A soft chuckle erupted from his lips and Arya could feel the rumble behind her, “You did get caught.”

She grumbled at his teasing, but couldn’t help feel bitter. He was right, she had been caught and now she was on horse with a man she hardly knew, being dragged back to her mother and brother, only to be married off to a Frey. No doubt Elmar Frey.

She’d only ever meet him once, during a time before the wars, before her father’s head rolled, and before she could openly wear breeches. There was a feast being held at Winterfell; for what, she did not know, and a few of the Frey’s had been guests. Arya couldn’t have been more than eight namedays when she met the little leech and had wanted to gut him then and there. He had the spine of a squid and believed that women were nothing more that brood mares to breed with. She hated that he could be a potential match for her and even more so that, if she returned to her family then she would undoubtedly become his wife.

That very thought kept her away, despite the ache she had in her heart for her family. She wanted nothing more than to run to her mother and brother and embrace them with all her might. She wanted to love them and hold them and never let them go, but that fantasy was moot, for her drive to be a free woman was more than that of seeing her family.

“I wouldn’t have gotten caught if I just kept to my plan.” She huffed as she wiggled her wrists to keep the rope from chaffing.

“Well, I guess it’s your fault then.” He said smugly. Arya grumbled and brought her elbow to connect with his rib, causing him to huff in pain. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she heard the obscenities coming from his mouth.

She really shouldn’t provoke him, but the opportunity was too rich and if she had to be stuck on a horse with him, then she was going to have a little fun. Although, she was sure there would be repercussions for her mischievous behavior come the near future.

The two rode in silence for a time and Arya could only observe the landscape around her. They were in dense woods, away from any main roads, no doubt to hide the fact that a rather large group of men had a woman tied up like a wild boar. Arya wondered if they were to ride through the night, as to make up some ground, but surprised that they decided to camp for the night.

The man halted the horse, jumping off with a loud thud. He turned to her and pulled off the mare, planting her feet to stand right before him.

“Gendry, is it?” Arya tried to recall his name from their last encounter. The process made her head throb as the pain from being knocked over the head with the butt of a sword lingered.

He grunted as a response.

“Right,” she arched her brow, trying her best to sound innocent. “Why don’t you loosen these ties so that I may be able to have a decent nights sleep.”

“Fat chance.” He scoffed. “If I let those loose it will be my head. Sorry, mi’lady, but you’re stuck with me until we get to where your family is.”

Arya’s head sagged in defeat. She knew the chances were slim, but she still had hope, and when the rest of the brotherhood were too much into their bags of ale, she would make a break.

It took all of a few hours for them to set up camp.

There were no tents, just a few thick blankets and a small fire to keep them from freezing in the chilly night. Snares were made and even a few hares were caught as dinner. Arya was used to eating strange things, especially while on the run, so the familiarity of something as simple as hare was welcoming. She gladly took a piece as it was handed to her. Albeit, she wished he hands were not bound so she could eat properly, but that didn’t stop her from devouring the poor dead animal.

The men around her were cheerful; boastful even, and completely oblivious to the fact that she was studying every single one of them. As the night progressed, she even began to learn their names. There was Anguy, a champion archer from the Stormlands. She was sure his arrows were the ones that had grazed passed her head when she was running from them. He would be tough to outrun, and Arya would have to be sure he was completely disarmed before trying to escape.

Then there was Thoros, a Red Priest dedicated to the Lord of Light or some stupid god that Arya had no business for. Of course there was a Lem and a Hot Pie. Arya had come to learn that Hot Pie was a former baker at an inn she was sure she had stayed in.

The there was their leader, Beric Dondarrion. She had heard of him; a lord just like her father. As to why he was leading a band of vigilantes was beyond her.

Lastly, there was Gendry. She already knew his name and every time she looked his way she couldn’t help but blush. He was handsome, she’ll give him that, but he was smug and stubborn. She couldn’t wait to ram her Needle straight through him.

They were laughing and enjoying the evening. Arya smiled at their stories and even laughed at the funny bits, but what they didn’t know was that she was observing everything they did, down to how they ate. She was no different to a wolf stalking its prey. She would escape, even if it meant she would die trying.

[theinvinciblenoob]

It’s hard to imagine a better demonstration of the state of AAA gaming today than Assassin’s Creed Odyssey, a game where the whole of the wine-dark Classical Aegean is available for you to ply with your oars — but which operates according to a risible, cartoonish video game logic that seems, if possible even more anachronistic. Should you play it? Absolutely.

(Very minor spoilers ahead.)

In case you haven’t been following the Assassin’s Creed… well, odyssey, the last few years, the game took some time off following the lavishly produced but ambivalently received Unity and Syndicate games, set in revolutionary Paris and Victorian London respectively. The series, critics said, was wearing itself a bit thin despite the fabulous set dressing.

You can imagine everyone’s surprise when AC returned in Origins, set in an enormous swathe of ancient Egypt. New systems nudged the game from the stealth action of its roots towards the expansive, open-world RPG currently in vogue. It was a little rough around the edges but the scale was welcome, as was the shift away from the increasingly turgid Assassins vs Templars secret society scramble.

The news that the next game would take place in Ancient Greece at the time of the Peloponnesian War thrilled me to no end. I’ve always been a fan of the Classical era, Homer and Herodotus and Periclean Athens and all that. I’ll also admit to an unironic love of 300 and the story of Leonidas’s last stand — the graphic novel, not the movie, which was awful.

Are you kidding me? Look at this.

Here, then was that world brought to life with all the fidelity that Ubisofts hundreds of artists and modelers could bring, with a narrative combining secret societies with classical warfare, historical figures, and high-seas adventure (I loved the pirate-themed AC Black Flag). On paper this is the greatest game ever to grace the screen.

And in a way, it is. Ubisoft’s rendering of the Classical world is so beautiful, so massive, so obviously a labor of love and skill and intensive research that I have spent much of my time in the game simply gawking.

The costumes! The statues! The landscapes! The light! It’s a feast of details at every location, from the idyllic backwater of Kephallonia, where your hero begins their story to the sprawling, bustling Athens just approaching the zenith of its glory. I (that is to say, my character) walked past the Theatre of Dionysus in its construction, which I have visited in person (now ruined and restored, of course), and on up to the Acropolis, where I scaled the Parthenon and looked out over the tiled roofs under one of which, for all I know, I may find Plato sitting and writing the Symposium.

Seriously.

Then I meander to the harbor, board my black ship, and split the seas to explore any of the islands in the entire Aegean — any of them. The whole Aegean! Well, most of it, anyway. Enough that you won’t ask for more. Here be mythical creatures, political machinations, stormy seas and sunny shanties.

The world that Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey in habits, I feel confident in saying, is the largest and most impressive that I have encountered, with special credit given for having to reflect reality to a certain extent, which is not a limitation shared by its eminent competition in the open-world genre, like Horizon: Zero Dawn and Breath of the Wild.

In my opinion, both as a gamer and a lover of antiquity, it is worth the price of admission to experience this world, to see and hear Ancient Greece in a way that was heretofore impossible, and simply to revel in the almost inconceivable level craft that was so obviously put into this mind-boggling world.

And now, having made that judgment, I will proceed to trash the game I just recommended for about two thousand words.

The game itself

Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey, the game itself, is embarrassing to play. The characters you interact with and the minute-by-minute gameplay are so uneven that I truly believe that Ubisoft simply didn’t have time to adequately play-test it. It feels like the game was just too big to run through once they’d made it so they just shipped. If someone from Ubisoft were sitting next to me as I played, I would expect them to be cringing constantly.

It’s an incredibly lopsided collection of old and new ideas, balanced and unbalanced systems, good and bad UI, intuitive and baffling combat, beautiful and repulsive graphics, and excellent and laughable voice acting. I haven’t finished the game, let alone all the side quests, but although I expect to encounter more good things as I go, the bad things were apparently pretty much from the first few minutes and haven’t abated.

The AI of the people in this game seems to have regressed ten years to a simpler age. They are truly idiots all, from people on the street to elite soldiers.

Good old Adrastos the Logician, engaging in hand to hand combat.

One of the first things that happened when I got my horse and learned to have it follow a road was that it mowed down a few laborers. This, I found, would happen everywhere I went: every character in the game walks right in the center of the road and dives madly out of your way as you canter down it, screaming and cursing. Wild animals cluttered the road, and reacting confusedly as I approached and throwing themselves under the hooves of my steed, Phobos.

This was my first taste of what would become a theme. Why, I asked myself, wouldn’t these people just walk on the side of the road? The developers clearly accounted for horses riding down it, and have behaviors and barks for when that happens. But it’s so weird, so unrealistic, so video gamey. Surely in this lovingly rendered world it is not unusual for a horse to run down a mountain road? Why then do they behave in this way? Because the people were not created intelligently — it’s as simple as that. None of them.

I once emptied a military camp of guards and then set about looting the place. A woman was being held captive in a cage — not an uncommon thing to find — so I let her out. As she escaped, thanking me, I turned to take the items out of a nearby chest. The woman, mid-escape, screamed with rage at me for this theft, snatching a nearby spear and rushing me in righteous anger. What?

Perhaps I can’t expect every peasant to be a genius, but guards too (of all ranks) are unbelievably dense. They will step over the corpses of their fellow men to get to their post and not say a word. They will fail to hear the clashing of swords, or not notice a guy being violently flipped over and disemboweled, a matter of feet away. They will follow you one by one around corners where you can dispatch them individually and fail to see or care about the ever-widening pool of blood. They are as dumb as the dumbest guards from games that came out 10 years ago.

“Mother of Spiders”

Not much better are the much-ballyhooed mercenaries, who come after you if you do too many bad things. It’s not really clear what the bad things are, but eventually you’ll see a red helmet icon on your map and know you’ve been naughty. They’re basically guards with special weapons and a few characteristics like “weak to fire” or “takes 20 percent less ranged damage.” Technically they have backstories but you have to drill down to their description to find them, and by the time you’re doing that you’ve probably already killed them. You can recruit them for your ship, like you can recruit anyone, but they generally amount to stat bonuses with funny names like Demos the Drunk. He didn’t act drunk — just had a spear I wanted, so I took him out. I mean, the variation is welcome, but it’s nothing like, for example, the nemesis system in the Mordor series.

Combat is a real mix. You are no longer a fragile assassin who can be killed from a few good hits, but a powerful warrior with supernatural skills like instant mid-battle heals and teleportation. This is combat between equals, but your equals are generally stiff types with two or three attacks they repeat over and over, glowing a bright red or gold before doing so.

A slippery-feeling dodge system zips you through these attacks, or you can parry some of them, then slash away at your attacker. Some guards or targets, especially if they’re a level or two above you, will take minutes of patient slashing before they drop. I was sent on a hunt to kill a legendary boar that I gave up on after a couple minutes because I had only taken its health down by a quarter while not being hit myself.

Compared with other action RPGs it’s pretty listless stuff. More appealing is the stealth, which the fools of guards are obviously there to encourage, since you can empty a camp or fort of its occupants systematically and it can be quite satisfying. But with the perfect knowledge effected by scouting such a place with your eagle’s x-ray vision, it feels more like bullying than anything.

The Peloponnesian War is going on around you, though you’d be hard-pressed to notice most of the time. You don’t exactly take sides, since whatever area you’re in, your enemies are the ones in control. You can weaken the faction in power by various means and force a battle (a melee in which the combat, now against dozens, feels frustratingly sloppy), but ultimately the guards and camps feel much the same as one another — Spartans have different helmets from Athenians.

I thought at first this would be deeper than it is. I had looted a variety of armor pieces, several of which suggested I could use them to blend in among the Athenians whom I was at that moment working to undermine. So I donned them and headed to the nearest camp, hoping to walk about unsuspected, Hitman-style, sowing chaos by releasing caged animals and setting fire to supplies. Nope: I was immediately attacked on approaching the gate, before I’d even come in or done anything suspicious. The guard that had never seen me before apparently recognized me as the bloodthirsty mercenary who’d wiped out a camp a mile or so away, minutes earlier. No espionage for me.

It’s never really clear who you’re fighting or why, because the locations and people are just names. It doesn’t matter if they’re Athenian or Spartan, just that they’re the ones between you and the treasure chest. I guess that’s the life of a mercenary, but it doesn’t make you care a lot.

That was a quest?

The RPG elements, from gear to abilities, have almost no integration with the game itself. From the very beginning you can see your whole skill tree, including things involving the magic spear that you don’t yet know is magic. You gain new abilities and upgrade your ship not through interesting quests or meeting interesting people, but simply by spending points and resources.

When your ship’s captain says the hull ought to be upgraded, it’s not the start of a quest to find some cool big trees or visit his hometown where he left his ship-building tools and pals. It’s literally just a reminder to stock up on wood and iron and press the button to upgrade in the pause screen.

When you meet a talented carpenter whose brother is being held by bandits, it isn’t a quest to reunite these guys for a power team that enables a ship repair superpower. He just turns out to be a regular guy who increases your hull strength by a couple percentage points.

Quests, talked up ahead of release as being fully voiced and emergent, as though you’re receiving a request from help from a needy merchant or the like, are nothing of the sort. Every one I’ve encountered so far has been a variant of: Kill these five wolves specifically. Kill these three Spartan elite guards specifically. Kill these bandits. Sink these ships.

Each has a flimsy justification (they’re blocking the road; they stole money from me) and are often atrociously acted. In one I found the quest giver asleep; he obligingly woke me up to say he wanted to take the fight to some bandits who had been demanding money from him. As soon as I agreed, those very bandits appeared not ten feet away and instantly ran him through. Quest failed.

There are deeper side quests, to be sure. But the hundreds of quests you’ll see on quest boards or appearing randomly in the wild are like this, and rarely give more than a spritz of XP and gold. Sometimes you can recruit the quest-giver, though they might or might not be helpful on your crew.

I wish that they had taken the time and effort that went into creating 20 or 30 of these quests and made one single side quest with multiple steps, characters that mattered a bit, and provided substantial rewards like a new ability for your ship.

Even main story quests, such as the targets you’ll be taking on, can be disappointingly shallow. You’re supposed to be following threads and clues, but several are just handed to you: Here’s some lady. Here’s her exact location. Go kill her. No dialogue, no footwork, no alternatives. Stab this person and take their shiny thing. Shouldn’t I at least try to get some information out of her? Why isn’t there even a death cutscene like in so many of the other games?

The writing is hit and miss. The main story and its immediate side quests are fine — I’m perhaps 25 hours in and I’m interested to see where it’s going, even if it’s not particularly surprising. And it helps that the writing and voices for the main characters are leaps and bounds above the rest.

I chose to play as Kassandra, as opposed to Alexios, for a lot of reasons. And I love her. She’s well-acted, her writing is funny and occasionally realistic, and I like that she is indistinguishable from her male alternative in every way. Your companions, especially Herodotos and your exuberant captain Barnabas, are great.

Yet other characters are ridiculous: badly written, worse acted. Even major ones. I remember one exchange with a soon-to-be-target who was pressuring me to torture some poor sap. His voice acting was so bad, especially compared to his interlocutor Kassandra’s, that I was laughing out loud. He was far from the only example of this.

Games like The Witcher 3 have spoiled us on the quality of the writing and quests, but that should be a new bar to meet, not a high-water point. It’s sad that Ubisoft hasn’t upped its game here, so to speak; it feels like 90 percent of the game I’ve played so far is purely mechanical, and even at its best it sits like a layer of butter spread thinly across an enormous Greek piece of toast. But what toast!

It’s tantalizing to see how good a game like this could be, only to be let down again and again with elements that would feel out of date ten years ago. I’m having a great time when I’m not shaking my head at it, and enjoying the scenery when I’m not being attacked by one of the evidently 50,000 bears out for my blood in the Classical world.

As I wrote earlier, to me it is worth buying just for the good parts. But as someone who cares about games and loves the idea of this one, I can’t help but observe how dated and baffling it is at the same time. It doesn’t live up to the world it was created to inhabit, but that world is practically a complete game in itself, and one that I immediately loved.

via TechCrunch