Chapter One: Rise of the Dark Lord
The land of Hyrule was quiet. Night had wrapped its dark fingers around the world, and all the inhabitants slept soundly in their beds. A light wind swept across the plains of Hyrule Field, whistling softly to the grass. And it was through this peaceful night that they marched. Thousands upon thousands of evil creatures swarmed across the Field, all serving the iron will of the Dark Lord Sauron.
Princess Zelda awoke from her nightmare, panting heavily. Visions of embattled armies danced in her head. And then there was the ring with the strange, glowing writing, and the tall, heavily-armored owner sweeping aside warriors with a swing of his mace. This dream had been troubling her for some time. This is no ordinary dream, she thought as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. The Triforce is trying to tell me something. Is it warning me about an impending attack?
She slowly lifted herself from her bed and sighed. Should I tell my father?
She hated to tell her father about evil things to come, but she feared the consequences were he not warned. Somewhere deep down, she doubted it had anything to do with Ganondorf. Three years had passed since the Master Sword was laid to rest in the Temple of Time after the defeat of Ganondorf. Peace had been restored, and the country was flourishing. But now this mysterious figure and his army were threatening that peace for which they had fought so hard.
Yet somehow, this man seemed familiar. She was sure she had seen a picture of him in some old book in the royal library. Sliding her feet into her slippers, she set off in that direction. As she walked through the dark, silent halls, another vision appeared to her, causing her to stop. It was that strange writing again, but this time, it was circling the Triforce. Zelda knew immediately that that was bad news.
She quickened her pace and soon arrived at her destination. Quietly, she opened the door, trying to minimize that wretched creaking sound it always made. She walked to the far end of the cavernous room, passing by shelf upon shelf stuffed with books, records, and other articles of writing until she came to the history section. As she perused the many books, a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, possibly due to the Triforce of Wisdom, made her focus on a particular book. She reached up and pulled it down from the shelf. She opened it, freeing a small layer of dust which had accumulated on the pages. Blowing the dust aside, she flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for.
There was a sketch of the armored man surrounded by fire, his hand held out in front of him. A ring was clearly visible on his index finger. With a start, she recognized the letters on the band as the same markings in her visions. Tearing her eyes away from the picture, she concentrated on the following text.
The Dark Lord Sauron is the most feared enemy of Middle-earth, a large land bordering our own through the deserts. Once the most powerful servant of the first Dark Lord, Morgoth, he succeeded him after Morgoth's banishment to the netherworld. His powers are many, and are believed to be superior to the powers of a Triforce wielder. Sauron is a clever and deceitful individual as well, for he once could change his form to suit his purpose, and under the guise of a man called Annatar, Lord of Gifts, he created magical rings for the primary races of Middle-earth; three went to our distant cousins, the Elves, though these were made with little assistance from Sauron; seven were sent to the Dwarf-kings, master craftsmen and miners; and nine were gifted to the kings of mortal men, who desired more power than the rest. Then, secretly, he returned to his abominable domain of Mordor and forged his own ring, much more powerful than the others. Crafted from molten gold mixed with his own blood, the One Ring it became, imbued with much of his own power. Using the One Ring, he began his conquest. The Elves were lucky and sensed his treachery before harm could be done. The Dwarves proved strong-willed, but they soon fell to dragons. The kings of men, their wills the weakest, were subjugated altogether, and over time became his chief servants, the Nazgul. Since then, an alliance has been formed between the Elves and humans, and it is only a matter of time before they confront the hordes of Orcs and Trolls under Sauron's command.
As Princess Zelda read, the terror in her heart grew. Superior to a Triforce wielder…Could…could he possibly be an even greater threat than Ganondorf?
She closed the book and returned it to its place on the shelf. Suddenly a voice behind her said, "Princess? What are you doing up at this hour?"
Zelda turned around and saw a tall, muscular woman with pale skin, red eyes, and white hair tied up in a bun. "Impa," Zelda said to her Sheikah guardian.
"You are not sleeping well," Impa answered. "What is troubling you?"
"I…" Zelda hesitated. She swallowed, and then continued. "I am being troubled by my dreams. I see armies locked in bloody battle. Our soldiers and allies are battling monstrous creatures that fight like mindless animals. There's this tall man covered in a thick suit of armor carrying a mace who decimates our strongest men with the greatest of ease. And this is what troubles me the most. I see the Triforce…but it's surrounded by strange letters, a language unfamiliar to me. Somehow he looked familiar, and I came here looking for answers."
Impa's eyes were full of worry. "What did you find?"
Zelda looked her in the eye and said, "I think we are about to be attacked by the Dark Lord Sauron!"
Meanwhile, Sauron's army marched under the cover of night, venturing towards the center of Hyrule Field. When they reached there, they stopped and set up camp, weary of the long march through the desert. In the midst of Orcs putting up crude tents and large, brutish Hill Trolls milling about, the man in Zelda's dreams and a figure on horseback were conversing with one another. It was Sauron and his servant the Witch-king, Lord of the Nazgul. "Finally, we have arrived," Sauron said, his voice dark and menacing. "It certainly took long enough."
"Yes, My Lord," the Witch-king agreed, his voice an icy whisper. "The soldiers are weary of the journey."
"What does it matter?" Sauron responded. "They are soldiers, expendable fodder who individually mean nothing to the face of existence. Their welfare is of little concern to me."
The Dark Lord looked around the wide expanse before him, his eyes soon fixing on the distant Lost Woods. "I want you to take a raiding party and scout out that forest over there," he said, gesturing towards the Lost Woods. "If you find any inhabitants, kill them. Once you are done there, report back to me and start a lumber camp there. We need wood in order to build a defensible perimeter around this camp."
"It will be done, My Lord," the Witch-king hissed, nodding his head. The Nazgul then looked up and snarled, "Second battalion, first company! Follow me!"
Several hundred Orcs, a small group of them riding large, hyena-like wolves called Wargs, and a Troll converged around him and followed him out of the camp. For several hours they marched across the flat plains of Hyrule Field, watching as the tree line of the Lost Woods grew larger. At last they arrived, and the raiding party paused outside of a large, fallen, hollowed out tree that led into the Lost Woods. The Witch-king spurred his black horse onward, his minions following close behind. On the other side of the tree-tunnel, they stopped. There was a wooden bridge ahead of them, and that could only mean one thing: inhabitants.
The Witch-king guided his horse up to where the bridge began and slowly trotted across. When he reached the other side, he turned his head and called out, "Orcs, with me. You, Troll, shall go by another route. Circle around and see what else is in these woods."
As the Orcs moved forward, the Troll jumped off the ledge and landed beneath the bridge, before trudging off into the trees.