Roots Of The Artifacts

Okay I'm SORRY I should've had this piece done EONS ago but it's done NOW and so enjoy the lore X3

Also had to reupload due to formatting issues!

Your quest for adventure and discovery had taken you to many unique areas of the Mushroom Kingdom. You'd discovered an underground metropolis of Piranha Plants and Monty Moles. You'd snuck into catacombs deep beneath Darkland's foreboding castle. You'd investigated the abandoned home of a brilliant scientist. And now, at the edge of the world, you trekked through a seemingly endless blizzard, snow well past your knees, the scientist's journals pointing to a rare treasure rumoured to reside here. You've no idea whether someone had claimed it for themselves or not – your research brought forth no confirmation, but the thrill of adventure was fuel enough to pique your abundant human curiosity.

And besides, even if you weren't the first to reach the treasure… there was no guarantee that they'd gotten everything.

You smile despite the frigid air picking at your cheeks. You had prepared well for this journey, and for good reason. There was little reference material mapping out this area of the Mushroom Kingdom – humans were a rarity, and any Toads who attempted such a thing would've probably drowned in the snow long before reaching your current position. The blizzard – seemingly never-ending, it had been raging for days – made visibility practically zero; you could hardly see three feet in front of you.

Your massive brown rucksack weighed against your back with each labour-intensive step, every item within essential to your survival in this barren wasteland.

…Or at least, it was supposed to be barren.

Because off in the distance, barely visible through the massive flakes dancing in front of your ski goggles, was the faint glow of a lantern.

It appeared to be some sort of café.

Your heart sinking at the thought of this place being – somehow – well traveled enough to elicit a business, you resign yourself to the fact that there may very well be no treasures to be found here. But, you muse, as you're here, you may as well rest up. You doubt you could get a decent fire going in this weather, anyway.

A tiny bell tinkled quietly as you entered the cabin-like establishment, your eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darker colours of the café. Behind a long bar counter, with a wall of glasses and mugs to his back, was an elderly beanish man wearing a waiter's outfit. He didn't so much as blink at your arrival.

The beanish was coloured a faded forest green, wrinkles lining his skin, a pale moustache covering his mouth and tiny spectacles covering his eyes. He silently polished a glass as you shook what was probably about 25 pounds of snow off of your exhausted form, stamping your feet to avoid wetting the pristine hardwood floors. Your rucksack plunks to the floor beside you as you brush yourself off and look around the room. The dark, wooden interiors were warm and inviting, and there were various wooden sets of tables and chairs, all of them devoid of life. At the far end of the café sat a few luxurious looking wingback chairs sitting before a low coffee table, their backs to you as they rested untouched upon a wine-coloured rug, a fire burning in the fireplace and lighting up the chair's lighter red fabric. It crackles quietly and the scent of burning logs enveloping you, warming your nose and easing the journey's tension. Bookshelves surrounded the fireplace, and extended up to the ceiling, volumes of various faded colours presenting their unmarked spines to the room.

With a final shake, you removed your massive jacket and hang it up by its faux fur-lined hood. You remove your hat and gloves as well, placing them on top of your rucksack, and you raise your goggles to your forehead as you approach the counter, your snowpants rustling with every step. There are wooden stools tucked neatly underneath the wooden overhang, and you pull one out and sit. It's clearly designed for smaller species, as your thighs press against the underside of the counter, but you don't complain – you've been walking for hours, and it's nice to rest your feet, if but for a moment.

You pull out a few coins from your pocket and place them in front of the bartender, a quiet request escaping your lips. He looks at your coins for a moment, before nodding and slowly shuffling off to take care of your order. The bubbling of hot liquid and the smell of the cooking beans merge with the sounds and smells of the fireplace, and you feel incredibly at ease.

"Not often we get a human this far out."

The Beanish's voice is quiet, a bit raspy, but kind.

"Frankly, only reason we ever get anyone around here is because of the Blizzard."

You tilt your head a bit. Well that seemed a bit strange… who would come here, on purpose, just for this crazy weather?

On seeing your expression, he chuckles a bit. "Ah. You don't know… you probably came on a whim, didn't you? Heard a rumour on the wind, decided to check it out…?"

You nod, and he pulls out a large, white mug, inspecting it as he speaks.

"I don't mean the weather, though I understand the confusion." His eyes never leave the mug, but his voice drops a bit. "I mean the artifact."

You echo his statement, your eyes sparking with intrigue and curiosity. Now that sounded like something worth investigating!

"They call this place Blizzard Mountain – and not for the reason you're thinking of. Way up high, at the very peak, there are rumours of a powerful artifact that rests within the mountain, waiting for someone worthy to wield it. Few make it up there, and even fewer make it back down. I've seen many a young traveller like yourself in my time, eager to claim it for themselves, but… far as I know, nobody's gotten to it yet."

The Beanish man turns away and begins to pour your drink. You're not in any hurry to leave, especially now that you've got a steaming mug in your hands, so you ask about the artifact, curious of its capabilities.

"They call it the Blizzardstrand. It's told that it grants the wearer power over ice and snow. Few can use it to its true potential, though. And those who can, well… they don't master it overnight." He shakes his head. "But that's just one of them. There are more. Nine, to be precise."

You straighten up. Nine different artifacts?

"They call them the Koopalian Artifacts." He resumes his polishing, this time cleaning out a brass kettle. "Created by scientists and inventors thousands of years ago." He clears his throat, and begins the tale.

XXXXXXXX

Long ago, there were monsters that roamed the Mushroom World. Massive beasts, ten times larger than Dragon-Koopas, each beast animalistic and dangerous. They weren't supposed to exist, but… things can go wrong when curiosity and experimentation combine. The Dragon-Koopa existed then, too. They were smaller beasts, but much more intelligent. They were the only ones who could survive above ground with the giants – anyone smaller, less powerful, was forced into hiding, either in caves or underground.

The Dragon-Koopa built large cities with massive walls to keep themselves safe, but over time things started to go wrong. You see, the Dragon-Koopa tended to favour tropical climates; it meant easier access to food and water, and less interference from the larger beasts. But the problem with that was that the gender of their hatchlings depended on the climate surrounding them. Their homes, located in warmer areas with very little fluctuation in temperature, resulted in most of the hatchlings being male. The eggs required either much cooler or much warmer temperatures than where they lived in order to produce females.

Eventually, because of this shortage, their numbers slowly began to dwindle, and, unable to hold the line, the beasts began to drive them out of their homes, until there was only one place left:

Koopalia.

Koopalia was the largest of the Dragon-Koopas' cities and served as a capital of sorts. Located near dormant volcanoes, the temperature fluctuated just enough that there was a stronger likelihood of females being hatched, though it was still quite unlikely.

This is where they realized that they would need to make their final stand. If Koopalia's walls were breeched, it would be all over. They needed a way to fight the beasts and to prevent themselves from being rendered extinct, either from the beasts themselves or a lack of females. And so, a group of scientists were brought forth, each to present their ideas to help combat the problems befalling them.

The first was a proud, headstrong Dragon-Koopa. Smaller than average, but he still packed quite a punch. He found a way to harness a Dragon-Koopa's flame pipe into the nervous system and out through various parts of the body, via an elemental parasite that was discovered by the next: an explorer and mapmaker.

This explorer was the first's young brother – tall and kind, though timid and easily rattled. He traveled about and found a field of lightning, where small, microscopic parasites could hold onto charges and release them with incredible bursts.

The third was a female – very caring, if a bit flighty and overly dependent – who developed the Blizzardstrand, using the same properties as the first two. Her intent was to lower the temperature of the eggs just enough that they'd produce more females. They discovered that the parasites were capable of not just holding electric charges, but of temperature alteration in large quantities. Utilizing these parasites, the trio of sibling abilities came to be: The Firebrand, the Thunderhand, and the Blizzardstrand. The first and third were reserved for egg-control, and the second came to be useful in illuminating the city during the night and utilized bright flashes to scare predators away from the walls while the city slept.

The fourth was the sister of the third, and much more confident in comparison. She realized the power of her emotions and worked to harness them into her artifact, using muscle-tension and heart rate to indicate the potency and ability that the artifact would utilize. Though her brashness became quite terrifying at times, and often crashed over those who irritated her.

The fifth was quite fond of having more and being better than those surrounding him; he was always on the lookout to make himself stronger and was constantly showing off. Utilizing the properties of Red Peppers, he developed a set of gloves to enhance his strength.

The sixth was the opposite, preferring defence over offence. He liked to keep to himself and hated when people invaded his space. Utilizing the properties of Green Peppers and thorns from Iron Cleft dens, he designed a ring that would generate a shield in the face of danger.

The seventh loved to race, though he was always hungry. Utilizing the properties of Blue Peppers, he developed shoes to increase his speed.

The eighth, and the youngest of the group, found keen interest in the Hammerspace ability that the Dragon-Koopas had acquired, and replicated that with a bag. He was often lost without it.

The ninth, and the eldest of the group, focused his courage into a pair of spiked bands that would increase in size. He struggled to fight his pride.

The nine collected together to form a collective known as the Koopalian Champions

This eldest Dragon-Koopa would be the one to lead the group, his courage unmatched by any of his species. The first and sixth became his righthand men, and the third, smitten with his bravery and protective nature, became his bride.

Utilizing their new abilities, the nine champions began to fend off the beasts, sparking hope in the other Dragon-Koopas and striking fear into the predators that attempted to slay them. Within a year, the beasts began to retreat from the area, and the decrease in population slowly began to flatline, with more and more females being born with each hatching. It had taken much effort and toil, but, ever so slowly, the city of Koopalia began to recover. The people had a respite from their predators and were no longer at risk of losing their last home. Things were finally beginning to look up.

Unfortunately, the peace would not last. The first, consumed by suspicion, reasoned within himself that one sole bearer would be ideal, and as he deemed the others incapable of the responsibility, that sole bearer should be him. Driven by his head-strong nature and inability to fully trust his allies, he attempted to strip the other champions of their artifacts, taking advantage of his companions' individual weaknesses to procure most of the artifacts. Only the bearers of offence and defence remained suspicious of his intentions and teamed up with the eldest when it became apparent that the bearer of flames had become corrupted by his power.

With the Lightning Fields as their battleground, the three unyielding champions stood firm against the first, who had begun to go mad from the overbearing power the artifacts provided. As his DNA was not compatible with the other artifacts, they resisted him and quickened his descent into insanity. Despite his brother's desperate reasonings and pleadings and tearful begging, the bearer of flames launched an assault against the bearers of offence, defence, and courage, casting his brother aside in a frenzied attempt to procure all of the artifacts for himself.

The battle was fierce, wrought with hardship, and nearly ended in the destruction of all five of the heroes. It wasn't until the bearer of lightning, charged by the Lightning Fields, cast his cowardice aside and forced his artifact from his brother that the tables turned in the trio's favour. Now four against one, the bearer of flames quickly fell and was stripped of the other artifacts. None of them dared force the Firebrand from him until they could find a suitable successor.

He was locked away, left to rot in self-isolation and madness, until the bearers of courage and ice produced an heir, one that turned out to be compatible with the Firebrand, and became the new bearer of flames. His proficiency exceeded the first, and though the ability contained the first's DNA and thus passed on his weakness of suspicion, he became more adept at controlling it, though the head-strong nature remained.

After the artifacts had been returned to their rightful owners, the champions began to spread throughout the land, creating hiding places for their artifacts and training successors who were compatible to serve as bearers of and protectors for each artifact.

Many years went by, and one by one the original Champions began to fall, leaving their artifacts to their successors. While these were not as proficient, they still showed promise, though some fell to the tendencies embedded in the artifacts from the DNA of their predecessors.

The bearers of speed and defence each journeyed to their own islands, content with isolation from others. They took on other species as their apprentices, wanting to give those weaker a fighting chance.

The bearer of strength chose to remain as the bearer of courage's right hand, and though his greed was never for power, his love of wealth eventually became his downfall. His artifact was passed on to the bearer of courage's second son.

The bearer of lightning and the bearer of emotion became betrothed, giving birth to several children, the two youngest – a set of female twins – taking their parents' artifacts.

The bearer of ice trained an apprentice, a timid young girl with a compassionate heart and a love of song, though she never became as proficient as her predecessor, and was often overly dependent on the strength of others.

Realizing the likelihood of the artifacts being misused, the leader of the Champions began to create a tenth artifact, one that would not be linked to any one bearer, that could be used should something like what had happened to the original bearer of flames occur again. Harnessing the power of Double Cherries, he created what came to be known as the Mirror of Multifold, a reflective device that could temporarily generate weaker duplicates of the artifacts for anyone's use, so long as the bearer of said artifact granted it. The champion made sure that that limitation was not in place for those chosen as he passed these two artifacts off to the new leader, his youngest son, in case this terrible tragedy ever occur again.

After all, you know what they say about history repeating itself…

XXXXXXXX

Your drink was long finished and your body was toasty warm by the time the elderly Beanish finally ended his tale. You had listened with rapt attention, a spark in your eyes at the possibility of acquiring such a powerful artifact. Why, you would be a legend, for certain!

"And the bearers of ice eventually chose this mountain to keep the artifact safe," he tells you, gently taking the mug from the counter to wash it, "As far as this old bean knows, it still lays there to this day, waiting for a bearer to claim it. While it may be a challenge to acquire, I am sure that it is not impossible."

You thank the elderly café owner and get to your feet, more than eager to begin your trek up the mountain now that you've collected your second wind. To think, such a powerful treasure, almost within your grasp!

You quickly head over to the entrance, donning your various – now dry – winter pieces and readying yourself to continue on your journey.

"But do beware."

You pause at the door, as he gives you the strangest farewell.

"The heart is one of the best liars there is."

His words echo in your mind as you return to the fierce storm outside. You've no idea what that could mean, but you refuse to let it distract you from your mission.

You've got a mountain to conquer.

XXXXXXXX

The next few days are spent slowly scaling the back of the mountain. You manage to come across a few shallow caves that you use for shelter, spending the night eagerly reflecting on what you could do when you acquire the artifact. Certainly you'd be famous! You wonder what kind of abilities you could use… were there any limitations to manipulating ice and snow? Could you manipulate water, too? Could you shoot ice balls like with ice flowers? Would the cold affect you? You certainly hope it wouldn't – you imagine that that would be rather counterintuitive.

The journey up the mountain is mostly uneventful, though a bit precarious. You didn't see any signs of life, cementing the fact that you truly were alone in this endless blizzard.

Eventually, finally, you reached a ledge that seemed bigger than the ones you'd climbed up before. Lifting your head, you nearly lose your grip as your eyes catch sight of a massive, ornate set of double doors made of ice, decorated with intricate patterns. It's the biggest doorway you've ever seen, rivalling even the entrance of Bowser's Castle.

Why would they need a door so big…?

Pushing your concerns away – certainly the Beanish would've mentioned if there was a creature up here, and what could survive in this climate? – you pull yourself to your feet and slowly approach the door.

You're oblivious to the plant that was watching you burrowing itself into the snow and out of sight.

The large handles make up two halves of a giant snowflake. With only a brief moment of hesitance, you reach up and give a hearty tug.

Nothing.

You tug again, harder this time, yanking with as much force as you can muster. You didn't come all this way just to be shut down at the final stretch!

Unfortunately, all of your efforts are for naught. The door refuses to budge.

With a frustrated sigh, you lean against the door, your heavy pack pushing against it as you attempt to figure out a way inside. Perhaps there's another entrance?

Within the next second, you're flat on your back, the door you'd been leaning against suddenly having moved. Blinking in surprise, you tilt your head back to see the door open a crack.

Who puts handles on a push door? you think to yourself irritably, before struggling to your feet, shoving the door open, and slipping inside.

The raging winds immediately fade into silence as you push the massive door shut behind you. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you turn to look around, only to lose your breath once more.

The chamber you've found yourself in seems to be some sort of curved hallway, rounding to the left and the right, made entirely out of ice. Light pours in through thick, transparent ice panes, the entire area a vibrant, light blue and white. It would certainly be blinding if the sun were to shine in directly. Inscriptions and symbols decorate the walls around you, the high ceiling creating the illusion of more space than there actually is.

It's incredibly designed, beautiful in every way, and you can imagine only the highest of nobility living in a place like this. This realization fuels your desire for treasure.

The walk around the circular hallway only takes about three minutes at most before you're back at the door, and your brows furrow in concentration. There was no other passageway. Perhaps… perhaps there's a hidden chamber? That would explain why nobody had found the treasure yet!

A determined grin sets on your face, and you begin inspecting the inscriptions on the walls. You can't make heads or tails of them, but you do notice a number of heart symbols carved into the walls. Hm… the old man said that heart is a liar, so what if…?

You continue to inspect the walls, eyes scanning every inch for something that may be out of place. Your eyes pause on a large heart etched into the wall, much larger than any of the others. Glancing around, you see that the heart is surrounded by numerous others, and underneath it is… a diamond shape?

Shrugging slightly, you reach forward and press the diamond.

There's a soft click, before the walls before you shift and begin to part, revealing a short, straight hallway with a normal-sized ice door at the other end, designed in such a way that it looks to be made of iron.

You pass through, ignoring the glistening tapestries on the walls and the unlit torches that have long since frozen over.

You remove your bag from your shoulders and drop it in front of the door. In case this is a trap, you don't want to be weighed down by your supplies.

Slowly, with bated breath, you reach forward and grab the door handle, pulling it open with a soft click.

Before you is what appears to be a tiny throne room. Thick ice panes on the left side allow light to pour in, and curtains of ice line the back of the room and parts of the left and right walls. Instead of a throne, there are six different pedestals, each sporting a different bracelet.

You carefully walk into the room, keeping your eyes open for any traps, but there appears to be nothing waiting for you. Hesitantly, you inspect each of the bracelets, idly wondering which one the Blizzardstrand would be.

The first is a simple metal chain, with ice serving as the clasp.

The second is made purely from ice, so light blue that it's nearly white, and attorned with light, swirling patterns.

The third is a darker silver, thicker on the ends, with sapphire stones embedded into it, and snowflakes etched into the gems.

The fourth is a mixture of ice and metal, intwined with each other to create an infinite, angled design.

The fifth is constructed of gold instead of silver, and resembles more of a cuff than a bracelet, with spikes of ice lining all around it.

The final bracelet is the most beautiful of them all. It's crafted of fine silver, with intricate designs tracing it up and down. It's large, at least two inches from top to bottom, with an ornate snowflake pattern sitting on a second plate that expands off of the main bracelet.

A smile forms on your face. Yes… yes! This must be it! In the story, the creator of the Blizzardstrand became wife to the leader, so she must have made sure her artifact matched that position! Of course!

Confidently, you reach forward and place a gloved hand on the ornate, silver bracelet, and attempt to pull it from its pedestal.

It doesn't budge.

You pull harder, shifting it in an attempt to dislodge it. As you do so, you feel pinpricks running through your hand, chilling it to the bone… before it occurs to you that you can no longer feel your hand at all.

Your breath quickens as you see ice spreading from the bracelet, imprisoning your hand and quickly spreading up your arm. Any attempts to free yourself are futile, and you find it getting harder to breathe as the ice begins to run up your shoulder and encase your body. A chill the likes of which you've never known before runs through you, and your eyes begin to blur.

The last thing you see before unconsciousness claims you and your body becomes completely frozen is the fuzzy image of the ice reflecting something large and light blue looming behind you.

There's silence as the crackling of ice settles, leaving you nothing more than a glistening statue, your face indiscernible behind your goggles and scarf.

"I am sorry, young one…" A soft, melodious voice that will never reach your ears echoes through the chamber, as thorned vines begin to wrap their way around your now petrified body. With a strong tug, your ice-clad feet are disconnected from the floor, and your outstretched hand removed from the bracelet. "Your heart longed for power, so you were blinded by majesty." The vines tug you through a thick ice curtain, placing you delicately next to frozen statues of various other species. Koopas, Goombas, Shy Guys, Yoshi, Toads, even a few Bumpties decorate the large chamber, some mid-reach, like you, others quaking in terror, faces literally frozen with fear, still others mid-run, and a few with eyes peacefully shut, left lying down.

The voice chuckles softly after positioning you just so, turning and leaving you in your frozen prison, vines coiling and burrowing back into the icy floor.

"Perhaps the next one will be more worthy…"

XXXXXXXX

Fun fact: Based the egg-hatching thing off of real turtles!

'Who puts handles on a push door' is one of the best lines that I've ever conceived.

I yelled that in a bank once.

So… which bracelet do you think is the real one?

Hint: you're all wrong X3