The Legend of Zelda – A Realistic (re: Sarcastic) Novelization
(as told by Link if using the thoughts and experiences of an average player's first run-through)

I come to in a sunny clearing, surrounded by nondescript green bricks. Whether it was the sound of birds chirping from nearby trees, or the soft scuttling of a mollusk-like creature in the distance that dragged me from my slumber I'll never know, but what was clear, is that I had no idea where I was or how I'd gotten there. Glancing down, I shudder at the green tunic I'm wearing, only slightly less objectionable than the pointed cap covering my dome. For the life of me I'll never understand Hyrulian fashion—that's it! Hyrule! I'm in Hyrule, I was attending some insufferable gala event, in honor of some pig-faced foreign diplomat, all centered around some peace treaty. Major. Boring. Shit.

The only other thing on my person is a dingy, wooden shield that was clearly crafted for a five-year old, given its heft and circumference. I pray to whichever Hyrulian deity is currently on duty that my first skirmish in these woods involves spit-wads or snowballs, as those projectiles are the only ones I have even a partially decent chance at actually deflecting. Unless the jackhole throwing snowballs inserts a rock in there, then I'm fucked, as it would likely disintegrate this cardboard cutout of a shield.

Risking a moment to center myself, I take in my surroundings with a skeptical eye. Green rocks? Is that limestone? Behind me, a dark cave beckons, the only irregularity in this monochrome clearing. Even though my intuition screams at me that caves can only be trouble, typically filled with bats or some horrible species of a yet-unnamed spider, waiting to sink their fans in my elvish skin, my instincts override common sense, and I am drawn to the cave opening.

Descending the three short steps (stairs? In a cave? WTF?!), I enter a claustrophobic chamber, adorned by what can only be described as two magic fire bushes, straight out of the old testament. Perfectly centered between them is a creepy old man, who looks like he could be related to FuSoYa, the Lunarian from Final Fantasy IV. Momentarily set back by the non-sequitur reference that has no place in this narrative other than a Deadpool-esque, 4th-wall breaking nostalgia the author is hoping will be enjoyed by readers of his generation, I am further confounded as I gaze upon the cheap, wooden toothpick this centenarian suddenly thrusts in front of me.

"Moses?" I venture, uncertain whether Catholic dogma has found its way to Hyrule but encouraged by the burning bushes.

"It's dangerous to go alone! Take this," the old man implores without preamble.

"If it's so dangerous," I begin, "why were you just waiting for me in here, like an asshole, while I spent the entire night alone in that clearing, less than 10 feet away, shivering and cowering like an idiot?! You could have brought me in here, where the warmth from your magic bushes could have brought me much-needed comfort, but, no, you instead chose to leave me outside where I could have been set upon by all sorts of native fauna. I'm about to embark on an epic quest, you know, it would have been nice to start on a good night's sleep, s'all I'm saying. Thanks for the stick."

"It's a sword, actually, carved from the Baob—"

"Save it, grandpa." But nevertheless, I still hefted the wimpy sword above my head for his benefit, wincing as the crudely carved hilt immediately deposited a score of splinters in the meat of my palm.

"If you see my identical twins about, tell them hi—" he pleaded, but I was already trouncing out of the cave, back into the sunny glade. With three directions to choose from, neither particularly enticing, I arbitrarily head east, because east rhymes with feast, and I was starving because that shit-head pedophile didn't invite me in to roast a rabbit on that rotisserie spike he insists on calling a sword. But I digress.

I hadn't taken but three steps, when the green rocks suddenly transitioned into uniform green bushes and through them I could detect brief glimpses of what I imagine would be the first of many odd creatures in this land. Best described as a land-octopus, the red cephalopods ambled clumsily through the shrubbery, carelessly loosing rocks from their orifices at no particular targets. Sighing heavily, I raise my sword to engage these oddities, when to my ever-loving delight, beams of light shoot out of the twigs' blade and lanced across the field, skewering the first Octorok in its stupid face. I quickly felled all the creatures with my mighty sword, a stick no longer, this wooden treasure now held all my considerable esteem.

CLUNK! As I gloat, I'm hit from behind by a cowardly Octorok, who had been hiding among the bushes having just enough brain cells to formulate this last-ditch effort. Scowling, I turn around, prepared to rip this squid-face a new one. I aim my sword, and gleefully cry out, but…nothing. The all-powerful light beams have disappeared just as soon as they arrived. What was their source? Perhaps I had unwittingly stepped into a beginner's zone, intended to bolster my fleeting confidence, but now left me wanting and reliant on close-combat.

I close the distance to the gutless ink-squirter and drive the wooden blade deep into its rock-spewing mouth. As it faded into obscurity, it leaves behind a glowing red heart. Mayhap its own. Mindful of Native Hyrulian myths about increasing your power through consumption of fallen warriors flesh, I pick up the heart and instantly feel better. Perhaps there's something to those legends after all.

I pick up the pace and resume heading east, but in another few steps the landscape completely alters again. This place is as schizophrenic as Crazy Tracy from Koholint Prairie! Rocks to bushes, back to rocks again, gone is the pleasant forest green, replaced by an utterly unimaginative poop brown, not unlike that of a discontinued shelled chocolate variety. Inhabiting this plateau, are a platoon of utterly horrifying jumping spiders, pale blue in color, each beset by a single great eye in the middle of their hideous faces. Again, I prepare my fighting stance when, lo and behold, the mighty beam is back. Despite being possibly hung-over (or drugged), I remain a quick-witted fellow and deduce the beams only work when I'm at my full strength. Perhaps what I originally mistook for a simple blade is actually a sophisticated device, engrained with highly advanced alien technology that can somehow detect my very health and is inexplicably linked to the waxes and wanes of my constitution. Or, you know, magic sword! Yay! (How else would you explain this game mechanic in practical terms?)

I butcher the arachnids, some which are kind enough to leave enormous, and oddly translucent, coins, each the length of my Elfin body which I hastily collect. I proceed east, dispatching more creatures, when one of them drops a bundle of blue balls, I mean bombs! What a perfectly convenient, if highly unusual, drop for such a primitive creature! In the next screen, er…I mean, a few steps later, I arrive at the outskirts of an enormous river. Entranced by its calming waters I rush forward to quench my thirst, when something ambushes me from the ground! Not even the dirt is safe in this unholy place! To deal with these rust-colored spiked blobs, I figure I'll use my new toy. I arm the short fuse of my newly acquired bomb and cock my arm, ready to blast these vile volcano-looking mothers to smithereens, when one of the fuckers emerges from the turf directly behind me and rudely body-checks me, causing me to drop the bomb harmlessly away from the action, at the base of a rock wall. I take cover as the bomb explodes and when I glance back, my jaw hits the floor, for standing where rock was moments before is another welcoming pit of blackness.

Naturally, I immediately enter, and am overcome by déjà vu, for standing before me is the same creepy old man who earlier proffered the temperamental tree branch (re: sword), flanked again by two magic bushes. (So warm, but still no talking from them). Instead of a sword, this clone has crudely setup, on the cavern floor mind you, what amounts to a pre-school level quiz, consisting of a giant flask containing what has to be poison, for nothing else could be so effervescent and bright red, and an ornate heart.

"Moses…" I start but he rudely cuts me off. "Take any one you want," the clone says, without offering any explanation behind the choice. Given my success with the felled Octorok's heart and the fact the 50% of the available options look like the liquid form of death incarnate, I wisely choose the heart and feel my health increase a notch. How I know this is beyond medical science, I just felt it in my...heart, pun completely intended. When I bluntly question Moses about the morality behind offering perfect strangers the literal manifestation of life or death, he insists the reddish liquid is in fact a healing potion. I testily respond, "Uh huh, and assuming that's true, who would be stupid enough to pick what is essentially a one-time health replenish of five measly hearts over a permanent status increase that benefits you over the entire quest?" He shrugs, for I have him dead to rights, no one would make that decision, and I remained convinced the red liquid is indeed venom, likely squeezed from the tubular proboscis of the rock-munching volcanic freaks outside this very cave.

Just before I leave, I turn back to the clone and inquire, "Hey Moses, just how many of you are out there and how many of you are trapped inside cave-ins with no food, water, air or avenues of escape? And was your master plan to just wait around on the off chance that someone was going to figure out the very crevice he needed to bomb to uncover your hideout before you died of dehydration or asphyxiation?"

He just shrugs stupidly, so, annoyed, I shoot some sword beams at him, but they pass right through, obviously not a clone, but rather a holographic projection, probably of the first creep who's watching via hidden camera and manually pleasing himself. Disgusted, I turn to leave when I notice a scrap of paper in the corner of the cave covered in digits and nonsensical scribblings. It's in a foreign language of course, the only words I can make out say "Pre. Google. Must. Use. . .Mag. ." which is just nonsense to a modern elf like me. But a warrior recognizes a list of coordinates when he sees one, and I correctly assume these are secret locations scattered throughout the lands of similar nooks housing similar kooks, tempting fate, just waiting to be ousted via E&E – exploding and entering.

Back outside, I stare into the distance, and see the river stretching on for miles, bordered by the same mundane rock wall, so concluding that continuing down that way sucks ass, turn left, opting for greener pastures, as it were. Heading steadily North-East, I visit a few of the locations marked by the map and bomb open the entrances. How anyone could have surmised where these were on their own, short of placing a bomb every few feet along the length of every flat rock they found is beyond me. Wait, did anyone actually do that? Man, PGT* really sucked! (*pre-google time).

After one such location, I noticed a sign directing me into the mountains, which read, "Lonely hermit, Please visit. Cookies and letters." I figure, what the hell, can't be stranger than the clone army so a few twists and turns aside, I encounter a long staircase, carved into the rocks. At the top, is a now-familiar hut, adorned with now-familiar (and silent) magic bushes and a super-familiar clone. These Father Times have proven quite helpful, however, so I'm willing to overlook their foibles, and trust them blindly.

This one bluntly commands, "Show this to the old woman." About as vague and misogynistic a remark that has ever existed, all rolled up into six unhelpful words. He lays out a folded piece of weathered blue stationary, with no further explanation.

"So now I'm the Pony Express? Thanks Clone Moses." My wit is met with just another apathetic shrug, so I depart the hermit's holey hovel and head back down the staircase. A few paces to the right I'm met with a strange sight. Six trees pepper a lonely grove, with the most central one twice as wide as the others. The reason for the extra girth soon becomes apparent, for this tree contains yet another hideout. Apparently, all Hyrulian contractors have either been executed or are corrupt assholes, leaving the plebeians with no alternative but to hack out dwellings from the very rocks and trees that sprinkle the land.

Inside the magnificent oak, I quickly discover that Moses has abandoned the practice of giving me free shit and is now trying to flat-out rip me off of my hard-earned rupees, which I learned is the currency of this archaic kingdom. On the floor, in lieu of his typical gifts, are three rupees underscored by a '-10', denoting the cost of this game, should I happen to touch one.

"Let's play money making game," he croaks covetously.

"First of all, nice grammar you dumb shit. Secondly, I've been to the Gambling house in Kakariko village and my luck with these three-card monty type games has officially run out. So fuck you very much, but no thanks." As I turn to walk out, I just graze the very corner of the center rupee and the strident ringing I next hear is the sound of hard-earned rupees disappearing. -40 rupees, just like that.

"I didn't even have 40 rupees yet you piggy little fucker, so I guess the joke's on you!" I attempt to make myself feel better, but the loss of the roughly two-dozen coins I had earned still smarts. I don't need a '0' in my HUD to know I'm broke. Outside the gambling shack, I stumble disconsolately to the back of the glade, leaning against the wall for support. To my surprise, the wall gives way, and there's an invisible path right through the wall and I find myself at the literal top of the world. An immense plateau, the zenith of Hyrule Mountain contains a trio of strange, bronze buildings, an architecture the likes of which this wanderer has never seen before. In the middle of course, lies another gaping entrance. A bit wary, pursuant to my last cave-dwelling mishap, I enter this abode.

Inside, I'm greeted by one of the canine-faced Molblin's I have already slain in scores. This one seems oddly friendly, so I stay my weapon and ask warily, "'Sup dog." He glances around surreptitiously, as if any other person could have stumbled across this fucking game glitch at the same time I did, before advising me, "It's a secret to everybody." He must be referring to the lone rupee on his floor and when I touch this one, I'm awarded by an influx of 100 rupees! Gold mine!

"Hey, say hi to Mog, Bog, Grog and Snog for me," he pleads, indicating locations on my map.

"If they're as generous as you, I will be certain to oblige, although if this is how well you guys keep secrets, it's a miracle no one has looted you before."

I thank the goblin profusely and make my way back to the gambling house clearing. I'm briefly tempted to blow away the cash I just got, even though I literally just lost like ten seconds ago (man, gambling is a bitch!), but this is before emulators and save states and whoever played this using those (you cheating bastards), can suck off a Moblin, so I press on. On the cliffs near the hermit's staircase I test out another bomb and am rewarded by another gaping hole, which I greedily enter.

Moses is there again, of course, but I see no hearts or coins. Instead the little turd admonishes me for, get this, breaking into his fucking house! "Pay me for the door repair charge," the bearded pond scum demands. "Fuck you, and your flaming undergrowth, you ungrateful old fart. I just likely saved your fucking life by rescuing you from a cave-in and you're charging me for the door?! That didn't even exist, but that I procured for you?!" My protestations are futile as 20 rupees are automatically siphoned from my pouch, by what means I cannot decipher, probably by the same magic that these shut-ins use to feed themselves. I prepare to run him through, or at least give him a nasty series of splinters, but he teleports me outside and a force field prevents me from skewering that little prick.

Begrudgingly, I leave the hit-and-miss NE section of Hyrule, and make my way back to the forested area where I started, stopping only to collect more coins from the -Og brothers. While none of them are as philanthropic as the first, I appreciate every donation to my cause. Pretty soon, I have a healthy collection of rupees, just begging to be spent on something.

Shortly, I find myself back in the glade I woke up in, briefly toy with the idea of assassinating original Moses, but his useful clones outweigh the annoying shits, so I let him be. I decide on North next, and as I explore the rocky terrain, I encounter the first pre-established cave. Pleased I didn't have to waste a bomb and armed with an abundance of cash, I step in and am stoked to discover what passes for a Wal-Mart in this kingdom! I'm presented with only three choices, and even though one looks like a much superior version of the pre-school instrument passing for a shield that adorns my right arm, it's a bit rich for my blood. Besides, one of the other options is a blue candle and since every Elf is a secret pyromaniac, I quickly snatch it up. 60 rupees well spent.

What to burn, what to burn…I look around and set ablaze the first bush I see, watching eagerly as it is engulfed by a veritable wall of flame, no mere Bic lighter this candle, but the little fucker doesn't even ignite! Not even an ember or wisp of burnt flora. I immediately set upon the next bush, only to discover this piece of shit, poor excuse for a Zippo, has stopped working! What the shit is that!? I stomp off a few yards, but stubbornly return to the last bush, determined to create a holocaust of the poor fern and lo, the candle works again. But the second stupid bush is also immune to the ravages of my candle. What, is every single scrub in this whole accursed land doused with flame-retardant epoxy or something? And then the damn candle stalls again on the next attempt! Why does everything in this stupid realm have a single-use governance on it? Or do even the most basic lighting implements have the most accurate GPS imbedded in them so you can only one-shot them every 10 yards or so? What half-fantasy, half-science fiction world do I live in? Sheesh, questing can be annoying!

I proceed north and after circumventing a giant lake, I finally find a bush that catches fire. Instead of a bonfire fit for vanities, the entire bush merely disintegrates, leaving a well-lit set of stairs descending into an all-too familiar hollow. Another Og brother awaits, discarding a measly 10 rupees, barely enough to pay for the candle wax I used to unearth his concealed residence.

A few yards away, a tempting corner bush rewards me with another silly merchant, this one complaining that his wares are too expensive. He's actually the most reasonably priced prick in the area so I scoop up the same shield I was eye-balling from before for just 90 rupees, a -44% discount from what I would have paid! I…am a terrific adventurer. I debate whether I should track down the first unscrupulous merchant and slam the edge of my new shield onto his clavicle, or at least tell him to operate out of an airport where such ridiculous mark-ups are expected, but I'm feeling merciful and decide to let him live, the lucky fuck.

Continuing around the perimeter of the lake, dodging an endless torrent of fireballs from the ugliest water fiend I've ever seen, Zola's I've been told, I set afire what appears to be an arbitrary bush. Set in the middle of an endless row of identical plants, this particular bush hides the dwelling of yet another clone. Luckily, I had the coordinates from the foreign scrap because I certainly don't envy the adventurers who had to shoot up every single bush one at a time, first having to walk away 10 yards and back before each attempt. What a drag! It was totally worth it, though, because this Clon-ses had another multiple-choice test – potion or valentine - which I easily pass, bestowing upon me another heart container.

I've now doubled my health, which is a good thing because my shitty tunic offers minimal protection, and the few times an unavoidable fireball catches me, I lose a third of my stupid life. I need better armor! Or at least a more stylish one, this brown-sleeved gangrenous looking getup does not suit me!

Around the lake I continue, and finally stumble across a bridge. It's guarded by both fire-spewing Zola and the multi-colored Octoroks but luckily, they tend to group together and I can clear out an entire herd of the spiky idiots with one well-timed blast from my candle. Crossing the bridge, I enter a glade with a similar array of trees as the ones that housed the Gambling House proprietor, may he choke on Tektite Toast. Hesitant though I be, I nonetheless feel a strong compulsion emanating from inside, so I adjust my cap and enter.

I am immediately overcome by a sense of foreboding about this dungeon. The first thing I notice is the arrangement of a dozen creepy gargoyle statues, half look like a winged snake, the other half look like an angry biker with a Mohawk yelling (go google it, I'll wait). Although the two sets of statues look like they're locked in a cosmic staring contest, nothing transpires between them. I'm certain fireballs will start spewing forth any second now, but nothing ever does. EVERYTHING in this place is a grimy blue, borderline gray, even the door at the far end of the chamber, inset by a giant keyhole. Given its aperture, were I ever to find the corresponding key, I would have to spend hours rigging up an elaborate pulley system just to insert the damn thing. Hopefully the same magic that operates the rupees will function here.

Exploring a bit, I easily dispatch some Count Chocula marshmallow bats and the cast of "Silly Symphony's 'Skeleton Dance'", one of whom has seemingly swallowed an entire key! That it managed to do so while lacking an esophagus and digestive system will remain among the more impressive things I have ever witnessed. I take the key, luckily it does revert to Elvish size upon retrieval, and open the locked door.

A few rooms down, another skeleton has apparently imbibed a FRICKIN' FAIRY! As I slay the monster, the winsome lass flies out, seemingly unperturbed by her time in the cage (pun intended), either mentally or physically, based on how merrily she flits around the room in irregular figure 8's, more reminiscent of my drunk Uncle Barnaby than a magical forest denizen. I naturally grab for her and immediately feel my health restored, so potent was her fairy dust.

In another room, I find a discarded compass, but as to its purpose, I can't yet fathom. All it does is place a disembodied holographic dot in my eyeline, not unlike when you get those eye floaters, only more annoying. I suspect it must mark the location of something important, but I don't have a fucking map, so it's kinda useless at this point.

I enter a chamber with a solitary block in the middle surrounded by a trio of mini-gumdrops. Should the warden of this joint ever get bored with slave-driving, this dungeon could double for a candy factory! The gumdrops are so cute, I find it difficult to kill them. Snuff them I do, though, and I stop to take a breather. I lean against the block, and am surprised when the entire thing rumbles to the side before coming to a grating stop. A set of previously sealed doors slides open and I eagerly enter, assuming I've discovered untold treasures. Nope, not today. Instead of the Chamber of Secrets, it's merely Clon-ses, AGAIN, haloed by his mute magic fireballs, AGAIN. He literally gives me the vaguest and most useless hint, if you can even call it that, in the history of dungeon-crawlers and it's all I can do to not set his stupid beard on fire.

Back to the dungeon, and a few dead gumdrops later, I stumble upon what appears to be a map, although it's identical to the old hermits love letter, save for the color, now an unpleasant rust-orange. A giant holographic display, clearly from the sub-dermal chip every Hyrulian child is implanted with upon birth, lights up with the full scope of the dungeon. The architect is trying to bill this as the "Eagle", but truth be told, it looks more like Lumiere or a snooty waiter holding a tray (Google it, you see it too! In fact, from now on, you have my blessing to Google any odd reference I make, trust me it will be worth it) The good news is, I can now see superimposed, the original flashing dot from the written-off compass, blinking incessantly from the Northeast corner. But I'll ignore it, because as a perfectionist, I first need to explore every nook and cranny of this dungeon. Else, why be there? Why be there.

The next few rooms feature symmetrical moats of neon blue acid water. Perhaps it was bathing in these waters that caused the skeletons to shed their skin, that or their diet consists primarily of rusty copper keys. Regardless, even though the moat looks shallower than the teenage Handmaidens in Hyrule Castle Town (burn!), I can't step in or jump across it, so I convince myself it IS a deadly blue acid combined with deadly blue acid fumes, in order to justify the circuitous route I have to take to navigate them, retrieving a few keys in the process.

As I enter what, for the sake of argument, is the Eagle's head, I stop to get my bearings and am almost shish-ka-bobbed, by motion-activated corner sentries. What a fiendishly clever, if completely ineffective for anyone on guard, cheap-ass trap! There's a diamond block formation centered in this room and in the center lies another staircase. Picking my way around the blocks, I find the correct one to push and make my way into the dungeon's cellars. I make a mental note, that going forward in this quest, I'm am now determined to push EVERY SINGLE BLOCK that seems out of the ordinary in EVERY SINGLE ROOM I encounter. Thanks 1980's game mechanics!

After picking off more marshmallow bats, I'm rewarded with…a bow. Great. I don't have any fucking arrows yet, so again, this is nothing more than kindling at this point. Why everything is so piecemeal, I'll never understand, compass but no map, bow but no arrows, Clone Moses but no items.

I return to where I found the map and proceed deeper into the dungeon. I enter a chamber with strange badger looking monsters, who are tossing spoiled bananas at me. I send the Wind in the Willows troupe to their early graves and as the last one crumbles to the floor, a final banana materializes, just for me. Turns out it's actually a boomerang, which makes much more sense than the yellow berry I mistook it for (yes, bananas are berries, look it up!). I just figured the Goriya's were going on a food strike like their skeletal brethren, protesting the swimming pool conditions or the one-track radio station playing only moody music they're forced to listen to 24-7.

I enter the next room and am startled by a feral roaring I can hear through the walls, emanating from the penultimate chamber beyond. That must be one mother of a monster, maybe he's the overseer of this dungeon, el 'Jefe', if you will. It strikes me that if the boss' roaring is so loud I can hear it from adjacent rooms, what need do I have for the compass? That's a game designer asleep at the wheel, that is. Then I notice the compass doesn't even point to the boss, but mysteriously to the compartment behind it. What wonders does it hold, I ask no one in particular.

As I figure I'm about to engage in my toughest battle thus-far, I take a moment to collect myself. I lean against the wall, primed to start reciting an old elvish mantra and enter an elevated state of meditation when oooOOOOOOHHHH MY FUCKING GOD! WHAT IN THE HOLY FUCK IS THAT?! HOLY SHIT! A GIANT PURPLE HAND JUST CAME OUT OF THE FUCKING WALL RIGHT NEXT TO ME?! Before I had time to even shit myself, it engulfs me, and drags me screaming into the very wall it came out of.

Next thing I know, I'm deposited unceremoniously at the beginning of the dungeon…..

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.GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKING TITTY-LICKING ASS BAG CUM CANNON! Seriously?! That is bull to the shit! I have to do this crap all over again because some un-manicured-Giant-amputee-leftover appendage jumped me? Arrrgh! I tear through the dungeon again and when I enter the Room of Cowardly Hands, I decimate them all with lustful vengeance shared only by the Count of Monte Cristo and Anakin Skywalker.

I finally enter the boss' chamber, and holy fuck, it's a giant serpent, looking like a cross between a Stegosaurus and Pete's Dragon. He's planted himself firmly betwixt me and the only exit into the compass-indicated mystery room, so I try to parley, but he responds rudely with a volley of fireballs. Fortunately, Stego-Pete is the most predictable overlord on the planet, and shoots his trio of fireballs in the same spread every time. With no other avenue at my disposal but violence, I easily dodge the spurts and decapitate the fiend who dissolves into mist, leaving behind only his tell-tale heart. It's as ornate as the ones volunteered by Clon-Ses so I wonder if the old man butchered ancient demons in his youth, saving all their hearts for future generations of questers. My respect for Clon-ses begrudgingly teeters up a notch.

Trepidatiously, I enter the final chamber, and therein resides a magnificent treasure. Not in the sense that it's anything I'll be able to use in my actual journey, no, but in the mythical 'lore' sense, this gleaming golden triangle radiates power…and disappointment. This…is the Triforce! My Grandpa used to regale us with stories about the Triforce and how it would grant wishes to its bearer, but could not distinguish between good and evil intentions so it was the most sought after and abused object in the history of civilization.