Horseshit. Pure and unadulterated horseshit. I'd had eight, maybe nine shots at most. No reason for the bartender to cut me off like that. I leaned against the wall of the establishment and fumbled for the pack of smokesticks tucked away in my tunic pocket. Likely they'd be my last for a bit, since Rondan decided to fire me. At least my clothes might stop smelling like manure. I didn't really see why he had to be such a bastard about it, but then I didn't see much sense in anything that incompetent jackass did. So I overslept again. It wasn't like the horse turds were going anywhere, now was it. Couldn't just fire me like a normal person, either. Had to give this big speech about "Link, you're not dependable, and you'll never get anywhere, and you were lucky to get this job," and on and on. Great goddesses, could that guy prattle on. Evidently he felt I didn't spend enough time dealing with crap.
Wincing slightly at the terrible pun, I pulled out a smokestick and lit it. Well, that clown could find someone else to clean his animals. At least my next job would almost have to be an improvement. I took a drag of the stick, feeling delicious tobacco filling my lungs. I flicked the ash into a puddle in the cobblestone street as I watched a railcar go by, it too exhaling smoke. Someone was shouting down the street in a language I didn't recognize. The city was fairly active, considering the morning light was only just breaking over the mountains to the east. The clouds gathering in the sky looked rather foreboding, though. I'd have to stash my bike somewhere and find a place to sleep.
An inn was definitely not in my budget, but New Castleton was the place to be if you needed an emergency place to sleep. Well, that, and if you spent the nights wandering the city like I did. Having a prybar didn't hurt, either. Dried up sewers, abandoned buildings, forgotten catacombs… Every now and again you could even find some company down there; people who were in the same boat you were, or just adventurers seeking the unknown for the why-the-fuck-not of it. I had started out as the latter a few years ago, but lately I found myself seeking such areas out of necessity. I flicked the ash again, watching the little embers spiral down. One little spark refused to go out. It floated back up towards my face.
"Hello, Link!"
I whipped around, trying to figure who I knew that was this cheery at this hour of the morning, but no one was even remotely near me. The orange ember flew towards my face. I smacked it away.
"Ouch, you jerk!"
Okay, so the burning remains of my smokestick was now talking to me. I'd seen weirder things. Not much weirder, but still.
"Are you drunk? C'mon, Link, you need to talk to the forest guardian!"
That high-pitched voice was grating on my last nerve. I looked around for something heavy to bludgeon the little cinder with.
Hey folks, I've been kicking this idea around in my head for awhile, so I've finally decided to put finger to keyboard. I've always wanted to see a more futuristic Zelda game, so this is my attempt at realizing a world like that. Some things never change; Link doesn't speak, for example. Of course, Link doesn't smoke, drink, or curse(as least as far as we can tell, anyway) in the games, either, so sorry if those aren't your things. If you are one of those rare and wondrous people who enjoy giving reviews, by all means. Literate input of any kind is always appreciated. Sorry it's so short, I was doing a bit of urban spelunking myself last night, so I'm pretty beat. I'll add a little more detail after I crash.
