The events in this screenplay directly follow those from my "Ocarina of Time" screenplay; it should be read before this story.

Full .pdf file (along with purty pictures) is at   http://shanekentknolltrey4.tripod.com/KnolltreyLA.pdf

THE LEGEND OF ZELDA: LINK’S ADVENTURE

A SCREENPLAY

BY SHANE KENT KNOLLTREY

FADE IN:

The sound of DISTANT LAVA FLOWS, accompanied by the rising sound of HEAVY BOOTS scuffling unsteadily over rough terrain. These footsteps grow LOUDER over time.

ON BLACK, the title in the LOWER LEFT (NOT the far lower left, but slightly closer to mid-screen than the final title screen from the previous film, “OCARINA OF TIME”):

“The Legend of Zelda”

EXT. OVERHANG ENTRANCE TO THE GREAT PALACE – LATE AFTERNOON.

A massive, open-air entrance to a once-grand palace. The floor is littered with moldy debris. All the bricks and metal furnishings of this place were originally hewn in brilliant gold, but are now faded with extreme age. In the distance beyond the palace entrance is the steep drop-off of a mountain edge; beyond this are other mountain peaks surrounded by elegiac fog. Many of these other peaks glisten with small orange lava flows.

A blond, 23-year-old man in a ratty, dark brown tunic and cloak (complete with a flaccid, pointed hood) stumbles into this overhang area. He moves through the clutter, appearing EXHAUSTED. This is LINK. His eyes are blue, although his LEFT EYE is slightly discolored, making it a ruddy RED tint.

Link’s clothing is SCORCHED and TORN in several places and he bears several DRIED, BLOODY WOUNDS along his body. He BLEEDS from several fresh, superficial cuts to his body and his face and he LIMPS due to a deep wound on his right leg.

Link stumbles past a mess of broken columns, most of them bearing fierce BIRD-LIKE carvings on their tops. BROKEN STATUES line the corridor he moves through; many are FACELESS and bear gigantic BIRD’S WINGS. LINK’S BOOTS brush against a busted MUSIC BOX lying in pieces on the floor; this causes the device to sputter and then it erratically plays a short mess of disjointed notes (these are the FIRST 10 NOTES OF THE ‘GREAT PALACE THEME’).

Link STARES DOWN at the box, emotionless, as it sputters out and goes quiet. When it finishes Link LOOKS FORWARD, drawing a breath, and he WALKS FORWARD. He slowly DRAWS AN ARMING SWORD from a scabbard on his waist and descends a debris-filled staircase.

INT. CEREMONIAL CHAMBER IN THE GREAT PALACE (CONTINUOUS).

A very large irregularly-shaped stone-carved room. The walls are covered in strange writing and pictograms. Countless maze-like passages branch off this area, all of them plunging into darkness.

A standing pool of black water graces the central part of the room, around which a spacious walkway allows access to all branching corridors. A MASSIVE STONE TABLE rests near one corner of the room, surrounded by piles of debris.

Link reaches the bottom of a staircase on the far side of the room; wan daylight struggles through this stairway.

Link crosses around the black water at the room’s center, looking down the various pitch-black corridors as he moves. Several STRANGE, UNINTERPRETABLE NOISES sound from throughout the structure. Link NOTES these with unease.

Link reaches the MASSIVE STONE TABLE and circles it slowly. He KNEELS DOWN beside it and RUNS ONE HAND along the large stone rim of the table; a very large inscription is carved directly into the rock in ‘Ancient Hylian’ (ie: Scots-Gaelic). Link runs his hand along every letter of the inscription. It reads:

“I speak the truth: one suckles at Death’s breast

Who nourishes neither God nor a friend

But puts— alone— a bitter harvest to his mouth:

Be sure that your sin will find you out.”

(NOTE: There is NO translation, or subtitle, provided to the audience)

Link LOOKS UP and beyond the stone table: a MASSIVE GOLD-TRIMMED DOOR stands directly behind this table. It is the only closed door in the massive chamber.

There are many STRANGE HEIROGLYPHICS and GIBBERISH SYMBOLS all along the door. TWO CRUDE ETCHINGS stand out, appearing to have been VERY RECENTLY carved (there is no mold or fading in the cuts to the stone). One is an INTERLOCKING TRIANGLE SYMBOL near the door’s center (ie: the TRIFORCE symbol) and the other is a LINE OF TEXT, again written in ‘Ancient Hylian’.

CAMERA ZOOM on the fresh line of text; it reads, in Scots-Gaelic:

“May the way of the hero find its worth in Farore’s footsteps.”

This text is SUBTITLED in English for the audience.

Link STARES at this text seriously. Eventually Link BRINGS HIS ARMING SWORD UP and TURNS, again facing the STONE TABLE. SLOW ZOOM on Link’s face as he stares at the table; his BREATH soon becomes visible in the air. Link JAMS HIS SWORD into a pile of debris, leaving the hilt protruding from the rubble. Link approaches the table and CLIMBS UP ON TOP OF IT. He LOOKS AROUND the dank chamber again, uneasily, before slowly RECLINING and resting his head against the table, lying fully supine.

CLOSE-UP on Link’s head; Link BREATHES uneasily, although his breathing soon becomes more relaxed. Link CLOSES HIS EYES and breathes more quietly.

SLOW ZOOM, from above, on Link’s head. As the camera closes on Link’s face the STRANGE, UNINTERPRETABLE NOISES from afar become slightly more pronounced. Link (eyes still closed) suddenly ‘catches’ a breath as the camera reaches his face.

(NOTE: from this point on, and throughout a large portion of this story events are presented in flashback, and on several occasions during or (most often) in-between these scenes there are intermittent ‘jumbles’ of chaotic colors and rapid-fire images showing events both in the past and in the future (usually VERY quick, on the order of one-second long or less); these jumbles are referred to as ‘GLITCHES’ in this screenplay. The particular story images shown are entirely random in nature unless otherwise stated and are accompanied by various ‘scratches’ of disjointed sound and strange ‘static’ noises.

Cue a TWO-SECOND-LONG ‘GLITCH’.

EXTREME CLOSE-UP on LINK’S EYES: they OPEN with a start and Link stares ahead, WIDE-EYED. The sound of LEAVES RUSTING in a gentle breeze and BIRDS TWEETING replaces the lonely sounds of the palace.

Link is standing in a field of PINK FLOWERS; many brilliant white trees sway in the distance. Across from Link (about fifty feet ahead) a blue-eyed, 23-year-old woman stands in the field of flowers wearing a purple satin dress— her hands folded neatly in front of her— SMILING demurely.

This is PRINCESS ZELDA.

She wears a very thin, dainty CROWN on her head which holds one single, elegant gemstone in its centerpiece, directly over her forehead (this ‘crown’ is, in effect, an extremely slender TIARA). The construction of this crown most obviously appears to be designed around the COMFORT of its wearer, allowing it to be worn at nearly all times as a somewhat unobtrusive piece of jewelry and NOT as overbearing, ceremonial headgear.

EXTREME CLOSE-UP on LINK’S EYES: Link’s eyes WIDEN.

A MUSICAL CRESCENDO begins.

In the reflection of LINK’S EYES we see the hint of a DIFFERENT FIGURE standing before Link: someone wearing BRIGHT WHITE instead of purple.

ON BLACK, CENTER:

“Link’s Adventure”

(NOTE: upon appearance of this text the music immediately CUTS OUT with one LOUD DRUMBEAT)

Cue a one-second-long ‘GLITCH’.

EXT. GULF OF THE RANGES – AFTERNOON.

A field of short grassland covered in a brooding overcast of low, fast-moving clouds. Very far off in the distance is the shoreline of a massive body of water (the LAKE OF NO NAMES). Withered, broken trees stand at very sparse intervals.

PAN DOWN from the overcast sky showing, first, the barely-visible body of water in the distance and then the grassland. During this slow pan TEXT appears (fade-in) at LOWER CENTER:

“The Gulf of the Ranges”

And below that, seconds later:

“ ‘Threadbare Lands’ ”

Both lines of text FADE OUT at the same time.

(NOTE: Most of the scenes occurring in the Threadbare Lands should be musically dominated by variations of the “TAL-TAL MOUNTAIN THEME” from “THE LEGEND OF ZELDA: LINK’S AWAKENING” (mostly a slow and ‘elegiac’ rendition; a BAGPIPE should be included in the arrangement). This song should serve as “Marin of Ainurad’s” leitmotif).

SLOW PAN over a small clearing in the grassland: a blue, waist-high creature HOPS about in the dirt. It possesses eight extremely long legs like a spider (although they are not as ‘bent’ as a normal arachnid’s) and a bony, armored body. One stubby ‘eye stalk’ protrudes awkwardly from the front of this carapace. This creature is a TEKTITE.

EXTREME CLOSE-UP on a tangled bunch of grass in the distance: SLOW ZOOM as the grass sways, revealing LINK’S RIGHT EYE peering out from the weeds. The weeds continue SWAYING, blocking the scene, and when they again move away Link’s REDDISH LEFT EYE has moved into the frame.

The TEKTITE continues milling around in the dirt; a small gust of wind ripples all the grass around it. The Tektite BECOMES ALERT, rising on all its legs and making a STRANGE CLICKING NOISE as its stubby eye stalk STICKS OUT a bit from its carapace; it looks in the direction Link is lurking, but after several seconds it goes back to milling around.

Cut back to LINK’S REDDISH EYE in the weeds; his eye NARROWS and his brow FURROWS sinisterly. There is the faint sound of METAL SCRAPING AGAINST METAL.

The TEKTITE again goes ALERT and makes a very sharp CLICKING NOISE; it looks to Link’s location with even more alertness.

A GUST OF WIND ruffles the grass around Link’s body, partially revealing the man’s location, CROUCHED in the weeds.

The Tektite ‘SCREAMS’ and quickly turns on its axis, LEAPING THROUGH THE AIR very quickly, and bounding very high with each leap.

The Tektite quickly leaps into a small quarry of stones, diving amongst a large grouping of stones that are almost identical in appearance to the creature’s distinct blue carapace. It sits in the pile, motionless, with its eye stalk DRAWN IN against its body. It is nearly indistinguishable from these rocks.

SLOW PAN around the creature and the many stones it is hiding amongst. The camera pans a full 360 degrees, although once it returns to its starting position (on the Tektite’s face) LINK is lying directly behind the creature, slowly rising up on his elbows and SNEERING.

Link very suddenly HOLDS HIS ARMING SWORD up over the Tektite’s body and, GRUNTING, thrusts it downward. The sword’s head SPARKS as it hits the creature’s carapace, GLANCING OFF as the creature ‘SCREAMS’.

The Tektite rolls over on its side, uninjured, and Link quickly SWIPES at it with his sword. More SPARKS fly and the Tektite clumsily pushes out with its legs, throwing Link backwards a bit before the creature suddenly TAKES OFF, again hopping over the terrain.

Link regains his footing and SNARLS, holding his sword at his side. He then notices, however, that his attacks on the creature have DULLED the sword’s head and left JAGGED MARKS along one side of the blade.

Link GRUNTS appreciatively. He SHEATHES his sword and produces a small HOOKED KNIFE from his gray tunic with a glistening, sharp edge.

The Tektite HOPS madly across the grassland; Link follows on foot, running very quickly.

CAMERA FIX on the Tektite, face-to-face as it hops through the air (with Link pursuing in the background). Suddenly a BLUNT STICK swings in from the side, hitting the Tektite head-on and crushing its eye-stalk.

The Tektite FLYS BACKWARD, ‘SCREAMING’, and hits the ground hard. Link comes to a stop about twenty feet from the creature, looking ahead. ZOOM OUT from low across the ground: twenty feet to the other side of the creature a pair of SLENDER, FURRY BOOTS stand on the ground.

A young woman (appx. 19-years-old) with bright hazel eyes and fiery red hair stands opposite the Tektite. She holds a large oak walking stick in one hand and wears a large rucksack on her back. She is dressed in a bright white top and bottoms.

The TEKTITE WRITHES on the ground between the pair in PAIN.

Link watches the woman suspiciously. He LOOKS at the Tektite, then back at her.

The woman looks at the Tektite, and then back at Link. She STANDS AGGRESSIVELY and BRANDISHES her walking stick.

Link SMILES and pulls the HOOKED KNIFE out of his tunic, COCKING a brow.

The woman CASTS her walking stick aside and removes a larger KNIFE from her boot, COCKING HER HEAD to one side while SNEERING.

Link GRINS, nodding slightly, before slowly DRAWING HIS ARMING SWORD from its scabbard. He BRACES himself, WINKING at the woman.

The woman DISCARDS her knife and retrieves a VERY SLENDER, POINTED IRON ROD from her rucksack.

Link CHUCKLES derisively.

The woman very quickly removes a SMALL CROSSBOW from the rucksack and sets the iron rod into it; the device CLICKS as the rod is inserted.

Link’s smile FALLS immediately. He SWALLOWS and then GRUNTS appreciatively. Link NODS at the woman, and then he looks down at the wounded Tektite. After a pause he again SQUARES HIMSELF with his sword and takes ONE STEP FORWARD.

The woman HOLDS UP the crossbow, menacing.

Link STOPS walking.

LINK
“Hope to Heaven you hit my heart...”

WOMAN

(in a very thick Scottish accent)

“Ease your passing, huh? I suppose— otherwise— you’d suffer—”

Link TIGHTENS THE GRIP on his sword.

LINK
“Suppose— otherwise— I’d charge right through this gap and skewer you alive.”

WOMAN

(smiling)

“Are ‘ya so hearty, then?”

LINK
“‘Driven’, let’s say...”

WOMAN
“Ah, but alas: a lass has so little luck hitting a man’s heart, though...”

Link COCKS HIS HEAD with the faint tick of a smile on his face. He EASES UP a bit on his sword, LAUGHING QUIETLY with a pronounced grin on his face. He does not fully lower his sword.

The woman takes a STEP FORWARD, holding up her crossbow even more prominently.

WOMAN
“A li’l boy’s, though...”

LINK
“And just who’s the kiddo, kiddo?”

WOMAN
“Maybe not e’en a boy: a babe, maybe? Just where is it you hail from?”

Link DOES NOT ANSWER for several seconds.

LINK
“I travel from the North—”

Suddenly the crossbow in the woman’s hand DISCHARGES; Link STARTS reflexively and the Tektite between the pair SHRIEKS in pain. The creature SPASMS on the ground and falls backward: the small iron bolt is sticking out of its eye stalk. It does not move after this.

The woman LOWERS her crossbow, smiling at the creature in satisfaction. She looks back at Link.

WOMAN

“The North. Coming down from the Tal-Tals, huh?”

The woman motions behind her with her head; a LINE OF MOUNTAINS is barely visible in the dank gray background.

WOMAN

“The mountains out there?”

LINK
“Yes.”

WOMAN
“Must’ve taken the pass down from the mountaintop desert, eh?”

Link NODS.

WOMAN
“You’re from the town up there, then? Aren’t you? Ainurad, is that right?”

LINK
“That’s right—”

WOMAN
“Oh, but that’s wrong, little boy. You’re no native of the Tal-Tals— I know that— an’ a fistful of gold rupees says you’re not from anywhere around here, either. Makes you a foreigner, doesn’t it? You crossed over from the Lake of No Names, did you not? You’re from the Old Shores.”

LINK
“And if I am? What does that make me to you?”

The woman again looks at the DEAD TEKTITE between them.

WOMAN
“Same thing you were just a moment ago: competition for lunch. Life’s a touch simpler in this place than it is on the Old Shores, if you haven’t figured that out, yet.”

LINK
“Is it no place for ‘little boys’, hmmm?”

WOMAN
“Ne’er you doubt it. But if you come here all alone, and fresh from the Old Shores? Well: you’re more a baby fresh breeched from the womb, aren’t you? Twice as helpless, though...”

LINK
“That a fact? And just how does that math add up?”

WOMAN
“Because the Golden Goddesses pay this land half the attention they do the rest of the world. If that. These lands are worn, you know: they can hardly hold our biddy lovelies’ holy attention. Result’s a territory that’s a bit more savage ‘n tattered than most.”

LINK

(smiling)
“‘Threadbare’, wouldn’t you say?”

WOMAN

(scowling)
“I wouldn’t. I would say that it’s a curious thing: the sight of a li’l boy and his big sword walking out in the wastes. I’d ask more of ‘ya, if only out of curiosity, but a story such as this cannot have a pleasant end to it...”

The woman retrieves her LONG KNIFE and brandishes it, stepping forward combatively.

WOMAN
“...also, I’m more hungry than curious, currently...”

LINK
“Well, you must certainly be hungry enough; I’ll give you that...”

WOMAN
“Few give anyone anything in this place, baby-o-mine: you won’t find yourself living off anyone’s charity out here.”

LINK
“That a fact?”

MARIN

“Ne’er you doubt it.”

The man RAISES HIS SWORD combatively.

LINK
“You gotta take what you want? Is that it?”

Seconds pass. A small SMILE creeps over Link’s face. THE WOMAN, however, remains icy.

Eventually Link SHEATHES his sword, CHUCKLING.

The woman BRACES HERSELF in anticipation, but Link TURNS HIS BACK on her and steps away.

LINK
“Thanks for the lesson. And you enjoy your lunch...”

Link WALKS AWAY a few steps, however his STOMACH GROWLS fiercely.

The woman LAUGHS.

WOMAN
“Now, the story of a li’l boy and his stomach: tha’s more a universal thing, is it not?”

The woman BATS HER LASHES coquettishly and APPROACHES Link slowly; Link UNSHEATHES AND RAISES HIS SWORD defensively, but allows the woman to stand face-to-face with him.

WOMAN
“You’re hungry enough, aren’t you? Care for a bite, do you?”

LINK
“This your idea of charity?”

The woman SMILES and MOVES ONE HAND along Link’s sword-bearing hand. She SHAKES HER HEAD.

WOMAN
“No: my idea of ‘taking what I want’...”

The woman’s hand MOVES UP LINK’S SWORD; she ‘flicks’ the dull iron blade with one finger, making the blade ‘tingle’ with a noise.

Link looks first at the woman, and then both of them look at the DEAD TEKTITE in the camera background (SHIFT FOCUS to background).

EXT. GULF OF THE RANGES – NIGHT.

A small clearing in the grassland, surrounded by taller brush and a few sheltering withered tree trunks. A CAMPFIRE burns at the center.

CAMERA PAN up and around the campfire: the many armored pieces of the dead tektite are scattered around the area, glistening with ruddy WHITE bloodstains.

Link busily SHUCKS a piece of the tektite’s flesh from part of its body, using his broadsword as a crowbar. Link PANTS with the effort; sweat is visible on his brow. When he is finished he SIGHS dramatically.

The WOMAN chuckles from the other side of the fire. Link LOOKS UP at her, reciprocating the smile in a self-deprecating manner.

LINK
“S’more?”

The woman NODS. Link TOSSES the shucked flesh across the fire; the woman catches it and SPEARS it with a crossbow bolt, setting the head over the campfire flames as she speaks.

WOMAN
“Oh, yes, indeed. Little girls and their stomachs: that’s just as universal as anything else, isn’t it?”

Link PREPARES ANOTHER PIECE OF FLESH for the fire, spearing it with his arming sword.

LINK
“Mmm. You strike me as a woman of large appetites, huh?”

The woman LICKS HER FINGERS, finishing off a previously-cooked piece of flesh.

WOMAN
“Living in lands such as these gives one such large appetites, really, but with precious few things around to sate ‘em...”

The woman LOOKS UP at Link with large (innocent!) eyes; she LICKS tektite grease off several of her fingers in quick succession, quickly running her tongue over her upper lip afterwards.

MARIN

“We’ve nothing here, really. Nothing of interest, I should say...”

The woman EYES LINK suspiciously.

WOMAN
“...or shouldn’t I? ‘Cause for one to come so far— stepping out across the waters like you have— well, you must be most interested in this land, mustn’t you? Or at least something about it, hmm?”

Link LOOKS TO ONE SIDE, evasive.

The woman LEANS FORWARD, chuckling. She WAGS a piece of the tektite’s carapace in one hand.

WOMAN
“And here I thought tektites were the Goddesses’ most shelled-up beings! They’ve nothing on little boys— do they?— or their little secrets. Hmph! No matter...”

The woman PUTS ONE HAND over her chest.

WOMAN
“Marin. That’s my name, it is.”

Link COCKS HIS HEAD.

LINK

“Pretty enough...”

MARIN
“Mmmm. I wouldn’t disagree. But my name’s also got a nice ring to it, does it not?”

Link SMILES and CHUCKLES.

LINK
“Marin, Marin. And just where is it you hail from—”

MARIN
“From the North: I’m Marin of Ainurad.”

Link’s SMILE FALLS. He NODS.

LINK
“The Tal-Tals. That would explain a few things—”

Marin SHAKES HER HEAD.

MARIN
“That is not how I knew you were a foreigner, you know.”

LINK
“How, then?”

MARIN
“Oh, you’re very strong— don’t misunderstand— and you can run a tektite down reasonably well-enough. But it was your laugh. The way you do it; the sound you make. It’s so fresh— so bright— too bright for these lands.”

LINK
“Should I have been more sinister, do you think?”

Marin busily attends to the fresh piece of tektite on her bolt, messily chewing it while staring down into the fire and working her words around her chewing.

MARIN
“Hmmm: truth be told you look damn-well plenty sinister enough to me as it is, bright eyes...”

Link suddenly, reflexively, LOOKS TO HIS LEFT, moving his fully-blue eye into the firelight and hiding his ruddy-red eye. He SWALLOWS.

Marin LOOKS UP regretfully.

MARIN

(whispering)
“Stupid lass!”

MARIN
“I am sorry! That was uncalled for: too rude!”

LINK
“It’s fine—”

MARIN
“Get a little food in me an’ all my basic sense of manners ‘n decency goes out the bloody window!”

LINK
“Don’t worry about it.”

MARIN
“I’d never think to insult a body I’d share a fire with—”

LINK
“That doesn’t bother me—”

MARIN

(holding up a piece of tektite carapace)
“Let alone my can-opener, no less—”

LINK
“Marin! Forget it, alright?”

Marin LOOKS UP at Link, eventually smiling.

MARIN
“Charitable of you: forgiving. Don’t bother with it, though: by nature forgiveness is a ‘charitable’ thing, and one won’t live on another’s charity. It wouldn’t do one...”

LINK
“What do you suggest, then?”

Marin SMILES.

MARIN

“You could hit me, I suppose...”

Link RECIPROCATES THE SMILE. He answers after a pause.

LINK
“I’ll consider it.”

MARIN
“Well: given you’re forgivin’ me for now, at least, we’re still on decent terms, I think. So what should I call you?”

LINK
“Besides ‘can-opener’, you mean?”

MARIN
“In addition, maybe...”

Link STARES at Marin mischievously. He SCOFFS lightly.

The woman spots Link’s DARK TAN CLOAK lying on a log beside the fire. She HANDLES the fabric, musing.

MARIN
“If you’re really gonna be as shut-in as a tektite then I may need some creativity about me. Hmmm: ‘Dark Walker’, perhaps? Good a name as any, is it not?”

LINK
“Mmmm: plenty sinister enough for me. But I did actually have a horse, you know, up until the port at Odim across the way; Nanona had never seen a ferry before— let alone been on the water— and the trail over here would’ve been too rough for her as it is. I had to leave her behind...”

Link REACHES OVER and retrieves his dark cloak.

LINK

“And my name is Link, if you’re curious.”

MARIN
“Curious? The Goddesses know: no! That’s a trait that’s gotten many a little girl into trouble, isn’t it?”

LINK
“Just hungry, then...”

MARIN
“An’ you aren’t a useless thing to have around, are you?”

LINK
“As can-openers go?”

MARIN
“The very best, I wager! So, to where are you headed in these savage, savage lands, my good mister Link?”

LINK
“I’m not a ‘mister’, Marin...”

MARIN
“You’ve a better title where you come from, d’ya?”

LINK
“No. ‘Mister’ implies a gentleman. I’m no gentleman.”

Marin LOOKS OVER at Link’s vest: a small gold-embossed EMBLEM graces the left breast, depicting a sword set into the ground with an elaborate hilt.

MARIN
“You’ve got a keen brain in your head, don’t you? And the body to match. Is it a knight’s temperament you have about you, hmmm? They’ve knights on the Old Shores, do they not? So, it wouldn’t be Sir Link, would it?”

LINK
“Not exactly. Squire Link. I’m no knight; not yet.”

Marin LAUGHS.

MARIN
“Ah: but you’ve come to a fair damsel’s aid tonight— have you not?— and what could be more heroic than that?”

LINK
“So you’re calling me a hero?”

Marin SHRUGS.

MARIN

“Why not? Don’t tell me that heroics don’t interest you? Yes, rather ordinary though they be, but...”

LINK
“Well: you could say that I’m an ordinary hero trying to become a knight.”

MARIN
“And one becomes a knight where you come from by trudging out into the Threadbare Lands, eh? How very... ‘adventuresome’ of you—”

LINK
“That’s not even a word—”

MARIN
“Pretty sure it is—”

LINK
“Sounds completely ridiculous—”

MARIN
“It just seems to be an ‘adventuresome’ quest you’re on, is all—”

LINK

“Anyway, where I come from one becomes a knight by proving their devotion.”

MARIN
“That’s why you’re here, is it?”

LINK
“I’m here to see a girl.”

MARIN
“You have seen one, I think...”

Marin begins idly SIFTING through the tektite remains.

MARIN
“...an’ two, in fact, if this tektite’s got the proper bits to it...”

LINK
“I’m here to see a girl about a girl.”

Marin SHAKES her piece of Tektite at Link vigorously.

MARIN
“That’s more the answer I’d expect from you: cryptic as all get out! Well where exactly does this girl-about-a-girl dwell in our fine lands, then?”

LINK
“The Southlands.”

MARIN
“Is it Urooban Village you head for, then? Coincidentally that’s my own destination, truth be told. Convenient enough; is that where your girl resides?”

Link LOOKS UP at Marin suspiciously.

LINK
“Not quite. Past that; a little further south.”

Marin LAUGHS.

MARIN
“Your geography’s way off, boy-o: south of Urooban is the Adhavore River. Doesn’t do a man to cross over that. You wouldn’t know that, I take it, not being a native, but anything beyond the Fairy Knowe is country given back over to the Goddesses from whence this world came into bein’. See, they say that past that river is a great Aged—”

LINK
“Veil running smack between the mountains and the endless swamps of the southeast. The path winds through extreme old country, dead for a century at least, out to the far southern shoreline of the lands. A gap in the path leads up through the otherwise impenetrable back of the Dawnland Stairs Mountain Range: the oldest mountains in all of Hyrule. And then, in a mess of volcanic trenches and caverns— ‘Her Divine Footsteps’, the old mapmakers called them— there is a path of ascent up to the great northern peaks of the Dawnland Stairs...”

Link LOOKS BEHIND HIM, southward; LIGHTNING flashes in the far distance, accompanied by thunder. It illuminates some very distant mountain peaks (the Dawnland Stairs).

Link again FACES Marin.

LINK
“...where the first civilizations flourished under the new-formed sun. Also, somewhere up there is a place where, a very long time ago, one of three Sisters began Her journey— and played Her part— to make the land of Hyrule. That’s where I have my business, Marin.”

Marin has been watching Link with RAPT ATTENTION. She sets aside a piece of tektite flesh UNSTEADILY and LICKS HER LIPS.

MARIN
“Y— you cannot mean... W— who exactly is this ‘girl’ you’ve come to see?”

LINK
“Her name, you mean?”

Marin NODS somberly.

Link LEANS FORWARD, his face intent.

LINK
“Farore.”

Marin’s EYES BULGE.

MARIN
“I do not know whether to laugh or cry.”

LINK
“They say you can’t go wrong doing what comes naturally...”

Marin LAUGHS.

MARIN

“What comes naturally? That’d be running headlong away from this campfire, my tail between my legs and all. A li’l boy that would face up to the power of a Goddess? Big sword and all notwithstanding, I reiterate: a story such as this cannot have a pleasant end to it.”

LINK
“I never said anything about ‘facing up’ to anyone.”

MARIN
“No: you’re just seein’ a ‘girl-about-a-girl’, right?”

Link NODS.

Marin SCOFFS skeptically.

LINK
“That any worse than what you’re doing here in the Gulf?”

MARIN
“I am a native—”

LINK
“Of the Threadbare Lands, yeah, but not the Gulf. Ainurad is a long way up in the Tal-Tals; why’d you come all the way down here, huh? What are you doing out on the road, Marin?”

Marin LOOKS BETWEEN HER FEET for a moment, and then to ONE SIDE. She STANDS slowly and ADJUSTS her white top.

MARIN
“Seems I’m traveling with a loony, for a short ways, anyway. If you’re moving through Urooban then I suggest we move together, at least that far. If you’re keen on venturing south of the Adhavore, though, I’ll wish you well, but I don’t envy your journey, that’s for sure...”

Marin WALKS AWAY from the fire, NESTLING DOWN against an upturned log and bedding down against her rucksack.

MARIN
“And Squire Link...”

Link LOOKS UP from the fire.

MARIN

“I do hope this girl— the one about whom your girl-about-a-girl is concerned— is worth all this effort. Is she?”

Link SMILES.

LINK

(Slight Scottish accent, mocking)
“Ne’er you doubt it, Marin.”

Link RECLINES against a pile of brush behind him, pulling his cloak over his body and staring into the fire. Eventually Link removes a SILK, FEMININE HEADSCARF from his breast pocket; it is folded neatly into a square. Link gently UNWRAPS it, after which a SMALL FLOWER falls out. The tiny flower is almost entirely RED, however the very outer fringes of its petals are WHITE and show evidence that they, too, are slowly turning RED.

Link TURNS the flower over in his hand; the flower REFLECTS in Link’s REDDISH LEFT EYE along with the fire’s flames.

Link HOLDS THE UNROLLED HEADSCARF up to his face, staring at the patterned fabric. Eventually he BALLS UP the headscarf and replaces the SMALL FLOWER within its folds.

Link SIGHS uneasily.

Cue one-second-long ‘GLITCH’.

EXT. NORTH CASTLE GROUNDS – LATE AFTERNOON.

NORTH CASTLE is a grand gothic structure mostly covered in ivy; many outer sections of the castle are uninhabited RUINS, however the massive central keep shows obvious signs of retrofitting and refurbishment.

(NOTE: It is permissible to use the LEGEND OF ZELDA MAIN THEME as background music during scenes in North Castle, especially (or even exclusively) during scenes which include PRINCESS ZELDA)

TIGHT CAMERA FOCUS on a single large white rose; CAMERA PAN UP AND OUT to reveal a much larger rosebush covering a set of moss-covered ruins along the exterior of one ruined North Castle wall.

A SQUAD of horsemen moves across the grounds in an orderly formation at a slow gallop. The men all wear long cloaks similar in design to Link’s; many are GREEN-colored, while a few on the outside are YELLOW and one— at the front of the line— is RED.

PAN THROUGH a large semi-open area, once a grand hallway and now partially open to the elements; it is nearly a story above the well-manicured lawn below it. Arched windows run all along walls that are, in places, crumbled and decayed. TORCHES are lit at regular intervals and at the far end of the hallway a man in his early 50’s, wearing a deep PURPLE cloak, sits at a small table, WRITING. This is BAGU.

Two young men in red cloaks stand before him.

The sound of FOOTFALLS echoes from down the hallway. A MAN’S BOOTS walk quickly down the hall.

CLOSE-UP on Bagu’s chin and lips; a small SMILE forms.

The MAN’S BOOTS reach Bagu’s small table.

Bagu looks up at the men in red cloaks and HANDS them a scroll of paper.

BAGU
“Cavalry techniques are taught quite well enough throughout the ranks, but what I’m more concerned about is the basics; I don’t want our boys nailing a target with an arrow at a full gallop from 100 yards if they can’t tell one end of their own swords from the other.”

The men BOW slightly.

BAGU
“And one more thing...”

Bagu POINTS at the men sternly.

BAGU
“I’ll hear no more of any superstitious nonsense winding through the ranks: the next man who so much as breathes a word of ‘demons moving in the darkness’ will find himself on solitary patrol at midnight in the deepest part of the Western Woods!”

The men in red cloaks BOW SLIGHTLY and TURN TO LEAVE.

BAGU
(playfully whispering)
“And Farore help them if they can’t tell their hilts from their blades, then!”

The red-caped men DEPART.

Bagu LOOKS UP at the other man that approached his desk; the man sets HIS HANDS down on the desk, leaning down. When his face comes into the frame we see a LARGE BRUISE on the man’s forehead. He SCOWLS darkly.

Bagu’s SMILE WIDENS.

BAGU
“Having that problem yourself these days, Alltfirean?”

ALLTFIREAN

“My problem is the usual, Bagu; what I can never fathom is why you don’t see it as a problem, either.”

BAGU
“I take it our little ‘wild child’ gave you a spot of trouble, did he?”

ALLTFIREAN

“The boy attacks me in broad daylight, Bagu; broad daylight! Now, I don’t know whether to request his balls on a spit or his head on a pike—”

BAGU
“A pike? Perhaps like the one you used when you tried to run him down out in the Eastern field? I must say, Alltfirean, that your cavalry techniques might benefit from a little refresher—”

ALLTFIREAN

“His Majesty’s Master of the Moat should have no need for armed combat as it is, especially from within our own ranks! Your boy was crossing over the drawbridge without permission! He flaunted our procedure—”

BAGU
“And you overreacted. Attempting to run down a member of the New Hylian Guard is hardly a rational action in itself—”

Alltfirean SCOFFS and appears ready to make a speedy retort but Bagu HOLDS UP one hand.

BAGU
“He should be punished, Alltfirean— don’t misunderstand me— but at the same time you need to take into account certain... ‘realities’ of the boy’s mindset: he’s a native of these Old Shores, you know. We’ve been back here barely 10 years, now, and we’re just beginning to know our way around, and we’re just beginning to understand the ‘mentality’ of the people who call this place their home. There’s a fierce independence about all of them— most of all him— and such a thing is like kindling for a fire: when properly encouraged and controlled it makes for a fine and strong pillar of flame— a great purpose— but when disrespected, or left without proper management, it can erupt into a wild conflagration.”

ALLTFIERAN
“Your boy is more a wildfire!”

Bagu SCOFFS. He RISES, slowly and casually, and WALKS over to one crumbling arched window.

BAGU
“If we weren’t so familiar I might take issue with you constantly referring to him as ‘my boy’—”

ALLTFIREAN

“What else is he, then?”

BAGU
“Not immune from the rules, but still, he is a rather special case.”

Alltfirean SCOFFS derisively.

BAGU
“Let me tell you a little story, Alltfirean. You know that I was one of the leaders in our scouting party all those years ago, right? It’s been more than a decade now since His Majesty the King made his decree: we were to pack-up from the New Kingdom and return to the place from whence we all first came. His Majesty wanted to return the Royal Family’s court to the Old Shores of Ancient Hylia. And so we advanced scouts prepared ourselves for a journey into this misty land of Utter East. Having to trade the soft pleasantries of Castletown for the hardscrabble nightmare that awaited us out here was bad enough, let alone the fact that all our historical maps were completely useless. Not to be immodest, but I’m a good enough tracker, and so we found the deserted ruins of North Castle itself; the journey here was not so interesting as the subsequent exploration of the woods and cliffs along the southern edges of the territory, though. I was with a small contingent— three other men, all of them now captains of the Guard— and we were moving through rough territory: high weeds and bramble. We didn’t truly know where we were, but we were close enough to one of the locals for them to take ‘issue’ with our presence. He came out of nowhere, savage and relentless. Bruised two ribs on one man and gouged the calf on another before we knew what was happening. Used the land for cover perfectly, and the way they handled a blade— oh, what savage art! If ‘finesse’ wasn’t one of their assets then at least a pure, driven strength of will was, never mind their apparent distaste for raw killing. It took all of my effort just to hold my ground in that first moment, and then it took all of the fight in me just to get them spun around right: I got a clean opening against their back. After that it was the sword for him...”

Alltfirean NODS.

ALLTFIREAN

“Well, if good manners don’t tame the savages out here then the sharp end of a blade works just as well!”

BAGU
“No, Alltfirean: it was the blunt end of the sword for him.”

ALLTFIREAN
“You didn’t kill him? And after he attacked you, unprovoked?”

BAGU
“Killing him didn’t seem to be the fitting thing to do. A creature deserves a longer life than that: our attacker didn’t have more than 12 years on him, if that...”

ALLTFIREAN
“What: a boy?”

Alltfirean LOOKS DOWN, perplexed, and after a moment looks up in SURPRISE, SHAKING HIS HEAD.

ALLTFIREAN

“Not Link?”

Bagu NODS.

BAGU
“When I first met Link he was already an unspeakably accomplished swordsman. Unnaturally accomplished, even: two-decade’s worth of skill in a body barely past its first. What he lacked, and what all boys lack barring direction, was purpose and control. Link had more than a few things to teach us, about geography as well as about fighting, even, but we had just as much to teach him, if not much more, about how to channel his abilities and how to make the most of them. Link does respect that fact, I think, although he’s still got that fiery Old Shores blood in him. He’s much like a wild horse that way, and while he can be downright civil in many respects I honestly don’t know if he can ever be civilized.”

Alltfirean OPEN HIS MOUTH but Bagu again HOLDS UP one hand.

BAGU
“I’ll have him report to the captain on watch, Alltfirean: he will be properly and objectively punished for his actions, but I hope that you’ll take my point to heart in any other ‘future’ altercations you may have with him...”

Alltfirean COCKS HIS HEAD, and then he BOWS slightly. The man turns to leave the corridor, making it a few steps before turning around.

ALLTFIREAN

“You know, Bagu, perhaps he is more like a wild horse, as you say. If that were the case then he’s not in need of ‘civilizing’, is he?”

Bagu FACES Alltfirean.

ALLTFIREAN

“He would need to be ‘tamed’. Funny, isn’t it, that where everything else seems to have failed only one person has ever shown any sign of success in that regard?”

BAGU does not respond.

ALLTFIREAN
“How was it when the Royal Family first arrived at North Castle, hmm? I do believe the first time he ever laid eyes upon her was the closest I’ve ever seen to that boy becoming ‘tame’. No one doubts that their relationship is— well, what would you call it?— ‘special’. The two of them practically grew-up together in North Castle, after all. And she certain has a calming effect on the boy, does she not? Amazing, isn’t it: the effects that the opposite sex can have—”

BAGU
“Your words become dangerous, my old friend.”

Alltfirean PLACES ONE FIST over his chest.

ALLTFIREAN
“Farore as my witness: may all the Golden Goddesses strike my beating heart dead should I ever insult Her Highness, Bagu, but now the boy seeks promotion into the ranks of her own personal guard! Velvet settees and afternoon teas are hardly the stuff of a savage mind, you know. But a tame heart?”

Alltfirean SHRUGS.

BAGU
“Link gives you any more trouble you come to me, Alltfirean, and immediately. I can’t have you running around trying to kill that boy; my calendar is too full these days and I can hardly schedule the time to attend your funeral.”

Alltfirean SCOFFS and STORMS OFF, MUTTERING under his breath.

Bagu SIGHS and leans against his small table. He SHAKES HIS HEAD while RUBBING the bridge of his nose.

Slow CAMERA PAN around BAGU’S FACE as he does this; once the camera reaches the other side of his head we see LINK standing in the background. He stands with arms crossed, wearing a GREEN CLOAK.

BAGU
“I might just have the time, however, to arrange your funeral, Link...”

LINK
“I thought I was being rather generous to the old man—”

BAGU
“Did it not happen as he says? Were you violating procedure, Link?”

Link WALKS around the desk and looks out one of the windows.

LINK
“Everything he says is true; I am guilty.”

BAGU
“What were you doing leaving North Castle?”

LINK
“I wanted to go into town.”

BAGU
“To Urar? For what: diversion? Amusement?”

Link answers after a PAUSE.

LINK
“Yes—”

BAGU
“I don’t think so. What diversions are there for you in Urar? You’re not like the other Squires; you don’t spend your leaves carousing in town. Last you had time off, as I recall, you spent almost all of it alone, hiking the Southeastern woods—”

LINK
“Spelunking, actually. In the Southern caverns—”

BAGU
“Whatever; either serves to prove my point.”

Link does not respond to this.

Bagu SIGHS.

BAGU
“Whatever it was, I do hope it was worth it. You will report to your captain, Squire. Immediately. By Farore’s grace this punishment might teach you something...”

Link PUTS HIS HEELS TOGETHER and rests one FIST AGAINST HIS HEART. He begins WALKING AWAY down the corridor.

BAGU
“...despite the fact that I think it won’t.”

Link TURNS and faces Bagu.

LINK
“I don’t do anything senselessly, you know. But still: I am sorry...”

Link again WALKS AWAY. Bagu looks up, TROUBLED, and calls after him.

BAGU
“Squire!”

Link TURNS.

BAGU
“A knight is a savage creature, you know. We all can be, at least.”

LINK
“I have seen that side of you—”

BAGU
“And we’re not the type of creature that takes to... ‘taming’...”

Link’s face SCRUNCHES in surprise.

BAGU
“It doesn’t do a knight to be tame, after all. And you aren’t, are you?”

Link displays ANNOYANCE.

BAGU
“Her Highness is returning from her trip to Midoro tomorrow—”

LINK
“I didn’t know that—”

BAGU
“Didn’t you?”

There is a LONG PAUSE. Link eventually BOWS very slightly and turns away, again moving down the hall.

Bagu CALLS AFTER HIM.

BAGU
“Wild horses throw their riders, Link. Remember that...”

Link EXITS the hallway, his FOOTFALLS echoing.

Cue two-second-long ‘GLITCH’. Among other images present in this glitch is that of a white horse running through hardscrabble wasteland with mountains looming in the background. This image appears TWICE in this glitch, non-sequentially.

INT. CEREMONIAL CHAMBER IN THE GREAT PALACE (INDETERMINATE)

LINK, still lying supine on the ceremonial table, SPASMS briefly, GRUNTING, and his head COMES UP from the table by a few inches.

As Link’s head rises off the table there is the faint outline of a MISTY CREATURE’S BODY barely visible in the gloom of the room, seeming to HOVER in the air directly over Link’s body, face-to-face with him; LINK’S BREATH comes billowing out his nose and mouth in noticeable vapor trails, HIGHLIGHTING the ghastly creature’s mostly unobservable features.

This is the THUNDERBIRD.

Link is GASPING for breath; he does not appear to notice the creature above him, and the thing’s presence is VERY FLEETING (and ‘SUBTLE’...)

SLOW CAMERA PAN around LINK’S HEAD as the man again rests his head on the slab; his breathing soon becomes more regular and he again RELAXES his muscles.

In the distance (out of focus) about twenty meters away, sitting on a pile of rubble, a FIGURE DRESSED IN WHITE watches the young man. The camera focus is such that this person’s features are not entirely distinguishable.

CLOSE-UP on LINK’S EYES; he soon CLOSES HIS EYES and DRAWS A DEEP, CONTROLLED BREATH.

Cue one-second-long ‘GLITCH’.

EXT. SPORRAN WOODS – MIDMORNING.

A densely-packed forest of strange, sickly-looking but nonetheless very dark green trees; a WINDING TRAIL cuts through the greenery, all the while ASCENDING in inclination.

Link and Marin walk along the path with Marin using her large walking stick to navigate the uneven terrain.

MARIN
“They call this wood the ‘Sporran’. A strong forest; feeds on all the misty weather seepin’ off the Gulf. Very much old growth. Now, nothing as old as what you’re bound to see in Southland, but—”

LINK
“I know where we are. I’ve studied the maps.”

MARIN

(laughing)
“Ah: maps. Maps! Aren’t we in good standing, then? He’s studied the maps. Well, dear one, you should probably take this little nugget of wisdom to heart: a map’s of good enough use around here, to be sure...”

Marin STEPS IN FRONT of Link, FACING HIM, and stops walking; Link similarly STOPS. Marin SMILES.

MARIN
“...as good toilet paper is such a valuable thing to have. Around here you only get into trouble with maps when you try something damned-foolish, like reading the bloody things!”

LINK
“The cartography seemed simple enough to me—”

MARIN
“Hmmm. An’ how, specifically, are you planning on getting to Urooban Village, if I may ask?”

LINK
“The Sporran Woods wrap around a big limestone shelf; grassland leads around the drop-off in either direction— North or South— so obviously I can take my pick of routes.”

Marin LAUGHS heartily. The woman CONTINUES WALKING; Link follows her, abreast.

LINK
“And I’m starting to think I should take whatever route doesn’t include a sarcastic local tagalong laughing in my face—”

MARIN
“Ah: I’m starting to think it’s a damn-lucky thing you came across me. There’s a few thousand things a map doesn’t include, you know: things like weather patterns, vegetation, growing seasons and such—”

LINK
“And what are you: a field-hand or something? A farmer’s daughter?”

Link LAUGHS.

Marin LOOKS AWAY; she does not answer.

Link NOTICES the change in her. Marin answers after a pause.

MARIN

(whispering)
“No: neither of those, at present at least...”

The pair SLOW their pace.

LINK
“Marin?”

MARIN
“I’m fine.”

LINK
“I... didn’t mean to—”

MARIN
“Leave it, would you?”

LINK
“But... if I hit a nerve I—”

MARIN
“Leave it. Got it?”

Link appears TAKEN ABACK by Marin’s savage reply; he NODS slowly.

Marin TURNS to continue down the trail, walking ahead of Link by a few paces. As she rounds a group of very large trees on the trail, however, she STOPS.

A MAN stands at the opposite end of the trail; his body is largely obscured by sunlight streaming through the forest canopy and he wears STRANGE and FRIGHTENING CLOTHING (furry animal skins, perhaps with a macabre ‘animal-head hat’).

Marin STARES FORWARD, skeptically alert.

THE MAN steps forward a few paces, bringing his features into more definition; he is in his mid-40s with several FIERCE SCARS on his face.

MAN #1

“G’day, there: little love.”

MARIN

(nodding microscopically)
“‘Day.”

MAN#1

“And a fine day for a walk in the woods, is it not?”

MARIN
“‘Tis, at that...”

Marin begins TURNING HER HEAD to face Link.

MARIN

“...isn’t it n—”

Marin suddenly discovers that Link is not anywhere in sight; despite the relatively wide-open ground of the trail around them he has VANISHED.

MARIN
(softer)

“...now?”

MAN #1 MOVES CLOSER towards Marin; the girl SETS HER WALKING STICK in the ground, BRACING HERSELF.

MAN #1

“Fine day to be alive, right?”

MAN #1 INHALES DEEPLY, CLOSING HIS EYES, and EXHALES, relishing the motion.

MAN #1

“Fine day to stay that way, is it not, little love? A spot of treasure from you, perhaps? Something for your crossing, maybe?”

MARIN
“Crossing’s free, if I’m not mistaken: what claim have you to these woods?”

MAN #1

(shaking his head)
“Oh: no claim... no claim...”

MAN #1 LICKS HIS LIPS and SMILES; he produces a THIN, CRUEL-LOOKING KNIFE from his furs.

MAN #1

“And surely a lass can spare a spot of treasure for a humble, claimless soul...”

Marin COCKS HER HEAD slowly, but then very suddenly PRODUCES HER CROSSBOW from behind her back with her one free hand; she LEVELS it at MAN #1.

MARIN
“A lass hasn’t a rupee to her name, point of fact, and unless you wish for me to claim your humble soul...”

MAN #1’s SMILE WIDENS.

A ‘WOODEN’ CLICK sounds from off the path to Marin’s RIGHT. Marin’s eyes WANDER to the right; CAMERA PAN reveals a SECOND MAN— dressed similarly to the other man— POINTING A CROSSBOW at the girl.

MAN #1

(taking ONE SMALL STEP forward)

“Oh, but any lass always carries ‘treasure’ with her; regardless of your finances you’ve certainly got... ‘payment’ on you, I should think...”

Marin SLOWLY SCOWLS at MAN #1, still holding her crossbow on him.

MARIN
“One can’t expect to draw water from the well for nothing...”

MAN #1

(smiling lasciviously)

“Are ‘ya that prudish, little love?”

MARIN
(snarling)

“Uncharitable, you could say...”

A FARTHER CAMERA VIEW shows Marin and MAN #1 from about 10 yards away, viewed from the green brush beside the trail. A GUST OF WIND causes TREE BRANCHES outside the frame to wave and dip into the forefront, eclipsing the view momentarily. When the branches again move away from the camera the BACK OF LINK’S HEAD is visible in the forefront.

MARIN
“It doesn’t do one to be charitable...”

After a brief moment MAN #1 TURNS, noticing Link.

LINK
“And it certainly doesn’t do one to live on another’s charity, does it?”

Marin quickly TURNS HER HEAD in surprise, also noticing Link.

MAN #1

“Private conversation here, blondie. As you can see: I’m much too busy to talk to a stranger. Best you find yourself on your way, my friend—”

LINK
“But I’m not your friend— ‘friend’— and as it unfortunately happens, my way is her way.”

MAN #1 FACES LINK, motioning at him with his large knife.

MAN #1

“That is a spot of misfortune, isn’t it?”

Link ‘FLIPS’ the scabbard attached to his hip into his RIGHT HAND; he pulls it upside down, slanted along his body, with militaristic precision, and slowly GRIPS the hilt of his sword, which is now directly in line with his DOMINANT LEFT HAND.

LINK

(whispering)
“You have no idea...”

Link CROUCHES slightly and quickly RIPS the sword from its sheath, extending it STRAIGHT OUT in a line pointing directly to his left.

MAN #1 SMILES.

MAN #1
“You have a pair on you, do you not? Pity, almost, to shear ‘em off...”

Link puts his arming sword in BOTH HANDS, his scowl DEEPENING.

MAN #1 suddenly FACES the man holding a crossbow on Marin.

MAN #1

“Gabh air!”

(NOTE: There are no accompanying subtitles).

MARIN
“No!”

The man with the crossbow (MAN #2) quickly points the weapon at Link; it DISCHARGES with a TWANG.

Link SQUARES HIMSELF, swinging his arming sword through the air in a lightning-quick motion, holding the hilt up near his head; the sword’s blade comes to rest down in front of his torso; during this quick movement a ‘METALLIC FLASH’ and CLANGING NOISE sound.

MARIN immediately SHOOTS MAN #1 with her crossbow; the bolt strikes the man’s RIGHT SHOULDER as he lunges after her. Marin then lands a GLANCING BLOW on the man with her walking stick as he TACKLES her.

During this time MAN #2 is quickly RELOADING his crossbow; he gets the weapon up just as MAN #1 and Marin make contact; he brings the crossbow up to level.

CAMERA VIEW from MAN #2’S PERSPECTIVE; Marin stands before him with Link in the background on the opposite side of the trail. MAN #1 TACKLES Marin and the pair disappear off to the LEFT SIDE of the frame. After their departure, however, Link is no longer in the frame; he has VANISHED.

MAN #2 BLINKS in confusion, LOOKING AROUND frantically. Eventually he turns his attention to MAN #1 and MARIN, who are STRUGGLING with each other on the ground behind him.

MAN #2 turns to assist MAN #1.

CLOSE-UP as MAN #2 walks; LINK is inexplicably revealed to be standing close behind the man (in the background) as he walks. Link quickly ‘HAMSTRINGS’ one of MAN #2’s legs with his arming sword, performing a brutally clean cut deep into the man’s tendon, moving his sword from a lower position to an UPWARD one while performing the strike.

MAN #2 SCREAMS in pain and FALLS TO HIS KNEES; Link, meanwhile, moves his sword up above MAN #2 in a seamless motion to compliment the hamstringing. Link then brings the SWORD’S HILT down between the man’s hands, DESTROYING his crossbow. Moving forward quickly Link then performs a cursory BACKWARD KICK against the man’s chest, sending him sprawling onto his back, still SCREAMING.

MAN #1 and Marin continue WRESTING on the trail with MAN #1 on top of Marin. He gets the girl by the THROAT and holds her down, but RAISES HIS HEAD in response to MAN #2’s SCREAMS. Looking off the trail he sees MAN #2 WRITHING in agony, gripping his BLOODIED LEG; Link is nowhere to be seen.

Marin GRITS HER TEETH, producing another CROSSBOW BOLT from behind her back; she viciously JAMS THE SHARP END of the bolt through MAN #1’S FOOT, prompting the man to SCREAM and then BACKHAND Marin hard. Marin’s head hits the dirt of the trail; she GROANS. CAMERA PAN OUT reveals LINK’S BOOTS standing mere inches from her head.

MAN #1 LOOKS UP in surprise just in time to see Link’s SWORD-BEARING LEFT HAND as it smacks him in the face: Link has struck the man with the hilt. MAN #1 goes sprawling backward, ROARING with anger.

The man struggles to his feet; he WIPES blood off his chin and spits out a ball of saliva mixed with dark blood. The man GROWLS at Link and unsheathes a BROADSWORD from beneath a layer of his furs.

Link again SQUARES HIMSELF defensively; his face maintains a COLD, clinical look.

Although it is NOT ENTIRELY OBVIOUS, during the duration of this scene Link’s REDDISH LEFT EYE shows more signs of REDNESS and ‘IRRITATION’ (as if the blood vessels were ‘HIGHLIGHTED’, slightly). This effect is SUBTLE.

MAN #1 BEARS HIS SWORD aggressively.

CAMERA SHOT from a distance, showing the two men in a silent standoff. MAN #1’s breathing becomes more INTENSE and ‘aggressive-sounding’.

After a moment MAN #1 ROARS and CHARGES Link.

Link immediately KICKS UP DUST from the trail, momentarily BLINDING MAN #1, who wildly SWINGS HIS SWORD in Link’s direction. When he opens his eyes, however, Link is nowhere to be seen.

MAN #1 appears FRANTIC; he looks all around, manically searching for Link.

EXTREME CLOSE-UP on MAN #1’s collar at the back of his neck: a BREATH— visible in the foggy dampness of the woods— wafts over the man’s neck, suddenly raising his hairs.

The man CRIES OUT and WHIPS AROUND, lashing out with his sword; Link is directly behind him. In a quick, rapid succession of brutally effective blows Link manages to disarm MAN #2, in the process BREAKING the man’s dominant, sword-bearing RIGHT ARM directly below the shoulder. After this Link THROWS him to the ground.

MAN #1 SCURRIES backward, ‘crab-walking’ in fear. Link follows, his arming sword pointed at the man’s neck. The man buts up against the base of a tree; Link GETS TO ONE KNEE, staring down at the man coldly.

MARIN runs up from behind the pair; she has a small GASH on her head, a welt on her face and she is covered in dirt from the trail but is otherwise uninjured.

MARIN
“Tha sin glè mhath! Finish the dog!”

LINK

(smiling at MAN #1)
“How very uncharitable she is, huh?”

MAN #1 PANTS in fear.

Link presses the TIP OF HIS BLADE against the man’s neck, drawing a train of BLOOD.

Link SNARLS very quietly. After a pause Link suddenly SHEATHES his sword, from the crouching position, and then stands up. He TURNS HIS BACK to the man and walks away, moving closer to Marin, and eventually PASSING the woman.

Marin WATCHES Link angrily; she RELOADS her crossbow and AIMS it at MAN #1.

LINK
“Leave it.”

MARIN
“Not bloody likely—”

LINK
“Likely enough—”

MARIN
“Bastard deserves the Goddesses’ judgment: I can send him right up to them—”

LINK
“Marin! Leave it!”

Marin TURNS HER HEAD, looking at Link AGGRESSIVELY.

MARIN
“What: would you really stay my hand? Would you stop me, foreigner?”

Link SHAKES HIS HEAD slowly, COCKING A BROW and TURNING to one side.

LINK
“No: they’re alive by my charity; you can do as you will, of course...”

Marin COCKS the crossbow.

LINK
“...however, the only reason you’ve got him in your sight right now is also because of my charity, you know. So if you kill him that’d be the reason why.”

Marin’s EAR TWITCHES.

LINK
“Are you the type of person who lives on another’s charity, Marin?”

Marin’s CROSSBOW TWITCHES a few times very slightly. After a pause the girl LOWERS her weapon, staring down at the sniveling MAN #1 with DISGUST.

MARIN

(snarling)
“Farore would likely throw you back, anyway!”

Marin SPITS at him. She then CALLS OUT to Link with a louder voice.

MARIN
“And with that self-righteous attitude of yours, Squire Link, I have a feeling that she might just do the same to you—”

Marin TURNS to face Link as she says the last of this line (“...same to you—”) and her voice TRAILS OFF as she finishes; Link is no longer standing behind the girl; he has VANISHED.

MARIN

(whispering)
“If she’s got a true, blue, female mentality about her then I imagine she might do much, much worse than that, even...”

Marin STARES DOWN at the sandy trail; Link’s FRESH FOOTPRINTS are visible in the dirt, moving off further down the trail, beyond the point where Marin first encountered MAN #1.