Petitioning the Court I
New
The walk from the Second Gatehouse to the Champion's Hall (the latter sitting practically over the waterworks winding clockwise around the main sanctuary) used to be a walk in the park.
Where once the old screening that the Second Gatehouse provided, separating law-abiding tourism from booze-ridden ne'er-do-wells, was about the only consideration in planning a visit to see the Champions. Since Calamity Ganon's return, new, state-of-the-art point-defense Guardian turrets panned and scanned for the unsuspecting. A bulwark of a lynel sweetened the deal for anyone milling about.
At last, Mona happened upon an all-but-forgotten side entrance.
There was Princess Zelda, seated in the witness box. Large, polished brass framing with reinforced glass, displaying her clearly enough to passerby without subjecting her to any mistreatment.
Her royal blue and gold formal attire had been well-preserved, a stark contrast to the Malice-etched pews and the lingering smell of spells having been cast in the blind. The Champion's Hall, remodeled at the drop of a hat into a courtroom, retained much of its luster, save the windows, their remains glossed over by Hylian forensic teams during a hastily abandoned repair effort.
Her hands were folded tightly in her lap, knuckles white against the deep blue fabric. While her face maintained its diplomatic mask, there was a subtle tension in her jaw. The ornate golden crown on her head caught the dreadful, perpetually malformed light streaming through the tall windows, etching forever into her calm expression the semblance of a harsh, rebuking glower.
Mona felt a surge of desperation. She wanted to reach out, to help, but just by looking at it, it seemed the glass was too rigid. It didn't help matters that her feet were rooted to the spot.
Suddenly, with slow, painful effort, Zelda brought her gaze over to meet Mona's, and in that moment, Mona felt a wave of emotions. Sobbing uncontrollably, her legs gave out as she crumpled to the floor.
Over the pained screams of the damned, she could clearly hear the Princess, muffled yet determined, a little bird defying the limits of a an undeserved cage.
The murk began to scour her eyes again. Was it another Blood Moon? She turned to leave.
Cado was summoned unexpectedly to the Champion's Hall during the off hours, a direct request from the royal courtiers to help set up crowd control barricades. It seemed like a routine task, perhaps another layer of security following the Yiga's attempts to throw the proceedings into outright chaos.
Yet, the timing just felt odd. He made a mental note to ask Robbie about this later.
Hurrying over, Cado found a number of orderlies and castle guards dodging between piles of barricades in an unerected, dilapidated heap. "What's this?"
Despite the nighttime conditions, it was clear some of the barricades were being hastily thrown into the moat, a fair drop at that.
The odd sight was made stranger when he heard rather than at first saw Mona in the water, screaming to be let out. Whether she was a capable swimmer or not, apparently the moat--a broad canal wrapping the Sanctuary and culminating in roiling currents in a part of the main access straddled by the windowed northwest façade of the Champion's Hall and the far more routinely utilized Second Gatehouse--had other intentions.
Mona stirred, shouts registering through the chop of the current. Her head cleared the waterline and she glanced up.
"Who is that?" somebody was asking.
"Dunno. Fetch me a line, would you?" asked another.
"Grab the line, miss!"
Mona did as instructed. She held on tight.
As she was raised, she decided against keeping her eyes shut in case her kneecaps bumped the natural rock wall or something.
She immediately wished she hadn't.
There, among the lacquered planks of an impressive ship of the line, was a glint of a gold-toothed sneer. But, before she could make out any other details, that crewmember stepped clear, allowing the sea captain herself to stride forth and lend a firm hand to pull Mona up to safety.
She was too wobbily to stand. Coughing in embarrassment, Mona kneeled on the main deck and promptly fixed her nightgown about her person.
"Greet the captain, why don't ya?" demanded a sailor.
Mona nodded, lifting her gaze. "Tetra, I've heard many a tale about you. It is an honor."
"Hmm, who's that, lovely?" asked Purah, pushing past a nurse and checking Mona's bedside placard. Not satisfied, she held the Princess' personal Sheikah Slate over the hospital bed. "Well, you're in luck, Ms. Mona. No sign of Malice in your makeup." The researcher clasped Mona's wrist and counted quietly for a beat.
"And, why might that be a concern?" the nurse sought, rounding upon and shooing Purah to stand at a more or less respectable distance from the patient.
Nodding apologetically, Purah did so, while further indicating with the Sheikah slate as she elaborated: "That attack upon the Champion's Hall left such a mess; it's a wonder how we'll ultimately get the debris out of the dang moat. But, good thing attempts were underway through the night, as how else would anybody have noticed you? What were you doing, sleepwalking?"
"I honestly have no clue."
"Well, neither do we. Now, about your charts. I hesitate to rely on a guard's estimations. There is reason to believe the Malice was contained, heh, apparently thanks in particular to some quick thinking by Robbie and yours truly!" She paused, beaming and throwing up her usual series of hand signs.
"So, I'm good to go?"
"Ye...I would assume that's fine, so long as you're feeling better? You were kind of murmuring in your sleep. Uh, not before you fell in. I mean here."
Mona blinked in surprise. If Purah's account was anything to go by, it sounded like that bit with the pirates was but a waking memory. The nurse meanwhile was indicating a chart, explaining calmly of a series of special elixirs that would take no time clear from her system. Yippee.
Indeed, she was on her feet again in moments, being shown by Purah to her laundered and dried nightgown as well as a place to change.
While she slipped the item over her head, she relished the fact her eyesight was no longer keen on playing tricks on her. Whatever that vivid crap was, flashes of it still played but were now relegated to her mind's eye. Sighing, she gave a courteous bow to Purah. "Thank you, kindly."
Purah nodded before hopping and skipping away as if to a merry tune playing in her head.
At last, a needed pause in exchanging formalities. Chewing her lip, Mona fought back a desire to kick something. This was not normally her thing, whether to be dumb enough to be sedated and possibly spill the beans, or more to the point, to actively seek to compromise her mission.
But, as to the next objective? She would have to entertain the idea of walking up to the Champion's, probably all huddled together in their spiffy little lounge, to some other time.
There were more pressing matters.
She smirked, glancing about for a magicked sundial. Going by Purah's apparent enthusiasm, their next foray was imminent. She couldn't shake the feeling that the heroes needed every bit of intel to face the impending threat. But, so too did the courtiers given their increasing, frantic demands upon the Champions. Which supplied more of the initial conditions for her master?
She would pick Robbie's brain. See if he was either trustworthy enough for Mona to help him secure that sample of...the stuff. It was so prominent in her vision, she shivered.
With Kohga's unsettling field trials of the Malice-imbued Sheikah tech, the mere proximity to it clearly playing havoc on her mind, she found herself in a moral quandary. The Yiga had always been known to not underestimate the inventiveness of Hylians; now, they were inviting the kingdom to open Pandora's Box.
A kingdom whose subjects that Mona, as much as she hated to admit it, now owed a huge favor.
She decided it was time then to play devil's advocate, especially if she risked interacting with Robbie and his predispositions. Short of splashing some of it on him, she would make clear to him the dire consequences of trying to work some magic out of it.
The corridor outside the medical wing was darkening, closing in around her as she strode. Her eyes unfocusing, she willed herself to stay calm.
"Say it," an archaic, disembodied voice, mimicking the accent of her surrogate mother as it leveled that simple command at her.
"...Malice."
[X] Sue for a Mistrial.
Still waiting on the usual summons well into mid-morning, Daruk, at last went to wake Zelda, Urbosa and the others. While he welcomed the idea of the courts allowing either team a bit of extra rest after the recent string of unexpected events, the trial took precedent. That, and the defense counsel had already run the risk of a forfeiture for a past tardiness just the other day.
As he approached their usual off-hours stomping grounds, the lounge, he noticed it was boarded up. Wholly intact, but inaccessible as contractors and heavy Sheikah equipment were fussing over the hall proper. Hmm. Well, it was a good thing that Urbosa's outfit had not chosen to remain on site that time around, what with crews noisily making good on repairing the courtroom afresh.
It hadn't occurred to the Goron Champion why the trial was not back on much like the day before.
He would at least check in with them all. That meant perhaps the "safehouse". Technically, a stopover at any part of the castle was one of the safest places to be while adventuring in the domain. But no matter. Daruk approached Zelda's study, ensuring his footsteps on the hard stone were gentle, not wanting to startle his friends.
"Good morning," Impa was already up, sipping tea as she leaned against the railing of the walkway spanning between the study and Zelda's actual bedroom.
Daruk greeted her a warm smile. "Well, somebody is in fighting form!"
Impa nodded appreciably before draining the contents of the cup, relinquishing it and a saucer to a waiting attendant before stretching tiredly. Her muscles were still tense from the fight. "Thank you, Daruk...I trust you slept well?"
"Well enough. Nothing short of a rockslide would have woken this Champion."
Zelda, still weary but determined, nodded as she stepped into the daylight, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, thank you." She approached, prodding Impa, clearly perturbed. "Hey. We need to stay focused."
"I'm just waiting on word from either Urbosa or Purah. Sounded like both had some stuff to attend to at sunrise."
"About that," Revali, flapping into their midst, twirled gracefully before bowing to the Princess.
"Morning, Revali-kun," Zelda allowed, nodding to him. "How nice of you to join us."
"Yes. If you'll pardon, Himesama, I wish to confer with the Bailiff for a spell. Daruk, I trust you've been to the Hall this morning?"
"Yeah. And despite how far into the day we've progressed, they're still applying some finishing touches to our Hall."
"That's what I was worried about." Revali, dipping his beak, brushed a feather's tip to his brow. "Well, can't say I blame any of you."
Zelda and Impa both blinked at the Champion concernedly.
It was Daruk, blinking slowly, his mouth flattening, who hit upon the situation: "Urbosa has put the whole dang thing on hold!"
Revali nodded, broadening his wings in a sort of shrug. "She must have sued for a mistrial."
"Indeed," rang out Urbosa from the thoroughfare, waving a sealed letter of significance.
She approached, and tore open the contents to declare with mounting apprehension: "...ah, this must have been sent in error."
Narrowing her eyes, Zelda stepped forth and took the letter, scanning it. "What is this nonsense?"
Despite the unerring consistency of the vision, Purah was probably correct in assuming the Hall had already been scrubbed clean of the limited amount that had bled from the corrupted slate while it was being subdued. Next on a series of quick errands was for Mona to ascertain where even that trace amount of Malice had been secreted away. According to her network of spies, a visit to the Royal Chemist's dedicated facilities within the castle's lower levels was due.
Well, getting in there was no laughing matter. She would have to wait for a changing of the guard, which meant well past sundown.
What stage was the moon going to be the hours leading up to it? Would she have enough cover? She gathered the necessary materials for the operation from a stash outside the Lost Woods and pressed a few pedestrians for information.
Ah, the head Chemist was a Mr. Seggin, apparently one of the few Zora stationed within the castle full-time. He was stern and showed signs of military training. Then, there was the matter of his assistant, Cawlin, a youngster moonlighting as an elixirs supplier for Beedle. Both of those names rang a bell.
Beedle, wiping sweat from his brow as he returned the message into Zelda's care, newly translated and with a handful of self-promotion blurbs replete with smilies, returned to the backrooms of his humble storefront.
Purah's voice was steady as she opted to read the contents at long last. "Mona, your secret is safe with me for now, but these Moblins are crafty. They intend to torture me for information if my current use as a siren drawing sailors into a trap is exhausted. Signed, Astrid."
Impa, frowning, turned to her sister. "Why do both of those names ring a bell?" She was stopped from further scrutiny of the handwritten note, as Beedle returned.
"Well, now that somebody is in on the 'Mission'," Beedle aired quietly, glancing about surreptitiously as he presented a long, ornamental scabbard to their group. "I feel comfortable handing this over."
The weight of the scabbard's contents registered in Impa's trained grip, sealing away further doubts about sticking around to enjoy the festival atmosphere for a bit.
Urbosa's eyes narrowed, following Beedle's retreating form as he ducked back into his store. "Well, that just introduces more questions."
"Damn right," grated Purah. "And not like we're gonna let these Moblins get what they want."
Impa, looking quite pumped up at this apparent present, as she drew forth a Sheikah longsword, a masterwork of a winding gold foil dragon inlay blade along with numerous, painstakingly implemented Sheikah runes. She reseated it, attaching the scabbard to her belt. "Neato."
This added to the impression that Impa was the Champions' personal bodyguard, as she strode with such a dedicated glower at everything that moved. Her party began touring Castle Town's stalls for the afternoon, with questions pertaining to the trial, and this other matter of a Moblin's prisoner, quickly fading behind a burgeoning grumble in bellies that had missed breakfast.
Hours passed, until Mona at last approached the royal Chemist's office under the cover of darkness, she knew that gaining access would be tricky. It was clear among the kingdom's commoners to never run afoul of Seggin's military training and Cawlin's clever brain, this pair would certainly make the task even more daunting.
It was the start of twilight hours as the sun gave one last cheery salute from its descent over the horizons. Mona waited just a moment longer, looking for that opportune moment to slip past Cawlin, who was standing guard outside the Chemist's office while somebody—it didn't sound like Robbie, so was probably the Zora—was tirelessly working a dremel within.
She listened intently as Seggin and Cawlin sometimes conversed, hoping it could unravel some details about their progress of satisfying the court's wishes.
"Cawlin, ensure the facility remains secure tonight. Our research into the Malice is of the highest importance and must go unimpeded," explained the Zora.
"Understood, Master Seggin. I will remain at my post. Nothing short of the Calamity will stop us."
"Good." And then without another word, the Zora quickly tidied up the office, leaving the keys with his assistant, Cawlin, before heading home for the night.
Cawlin stood poised in the doorway, watching the Zora amble away. The corridor was quiet, save for the flickering of illuminating fixtures—a curious blend of torches in wall sockets and a cluster of bioluminescent flora trimming the doorframe. Perhaps the Zora's handiwork.
Mona peeked out from her hiding spot, smirking at the scene. She took a slow, steadying breath and stepped out of the shadows with a confident, nonchalant demeanor. "Cawlin, right? Master Seggin sent me to assist with the evening rounds. He mentioned that he might need—" She halted mid-sentence, realizing Cawlin was not in the doorway.
Instead, she heard the unmistakable sounds of a struggle within the office.
Peering inside, she saw Kohga's right-hand man, Sooga, trying to pry the office keys from Cawlin's trembling but stubborn grip. Without hesitation, Mona rushed forward, her limbs a blur, quickly repelling the Yiga with a steady yet decisive glower.
Helping an amazed Cawlin to his feet, she introduced herself. "You're safe now. Though, strange, I thought all noncombatants assigned to the castle were sent home given the increased safety measures."
Cawlin, wincing, rose and hastily tried explained his circumstance. "Oh, you are totally right in that regard. Just, the Zora still thinks of our work as part and parcel to castle defense. He is military—."
"Ah, guess that makes him particularly strict. A bit like our Princess at times?" Mona tried.
"Heh." Cawlin gave a sheepish grin, then narrowed his eyes, sniffing. He gasped. "The samples!"
A faint smell of smoke wafted through the air, growing stronger with each passing moment. Mona and Cawlin quickly turned their attention to the lab, where they saw plumes of smoke rising from the far end, a section containing the vials of Malice samples.
It stood to reason that Sooga in his retreat had discretely set fire to the lab. The jerk.
Their bellies full, the skies darkening steadily, some of the Champions had agreed to retire once more at Zelda's study. Unless Mona was summoned to the same tribunal the following morning, it would be some time before any of the Champions could commit to a rescue effort.
Urbosa lay on a cot in Zelda's study, tossing and turning repeatedly. Despite her sharp attire and levity during the day spent with her friends, she was still clearly recovering from her injuries.
Impa, meanwhile, was pacing the walkway outside with a determined expression.
Just then, far below, issued the clomping of horse drawn carriages and yammering of royal guards. Impa was taken aback at the commotion, before spotting the column of fresh smoke. "Huh."
Then sounded alarm bells, which showed no signs of concluding, ringing out loudly and alerting the entire castle to the emergency. Impa sprang to the ledge, her sandaled feet spaced apart as she deployed a teleportation rune.
Urbosa shifted with a groan, her senses immediately retaliating. The sound of the alarm bell resonated through the walls, signaling trouble. She pushed herself to her feet, despite the lingering pain from her earlier injuries, and quickly assessed the situation.
"Not again," she muttered, her warrior instincts kicking in. She knew that time was of the essence, and the safety of the castle and its inhabitants was at stake. "Impa, what's going on out there?"
There was no response. Only the soft fluttering of talisman-inscribed ofuda in the breeze.
Impa settled lightly atop one of the castle's towers as she assessed the quickest route to the fire that had broken out. It was apparently hitting the Chemist's lab the hardest. She gawked.
Without wasting another second, she leapt forth, her body moving fluidly through the air. She landed on a nearby rooftop, her steps light and precise. With a burst of speed, she sprinted across the expensive roof tiles, careful not to dislodge any while constantly on the lookout for the best footholds and handholds as she vaulted over obstacles, her movements seamless, almost clockwork.
Impa soon reached the Chemist's lab. The added adrenaline of the hurry propelled her forward, awakening more than just urgency. There was this earnest desire to protect the castle and its inhabitants. That fueled her every step and sometimes misstep.
She tucked, rolling through an open window to land inside the midst of the laboratory ablaze. She saw Mona and Cawlin working frantically to contain the fire. The plumes of smoke rose around them, carrying potent, acrid smells of burning chemicals. There was no time to waste. She powered toward either of them. "Need some help?" Impa asked, her voice steady despite the circumstances.
Her sudden arrival drew the attention of Mona and Cawlin, who looked up in surprise and relief.
Mona was nodding, clearly grateful for the reinforcements. "We need to contain the fire and save the samples!"
Impa nodded.
As the alarm bell continued sounding through the castle, a nearby garrison of castle guard bolted into action. Their footsteps thundered down the corridors as they rushed toward the Chemist's lab, prepared for anything.
The captain of the guard led his team with a determined stride.
As the smell of smoke grew stronger, they at last neared the lab, the sight of smoldering vials, excited particulates of Malice, and some initial responders greeted them. The captain's eyes narrowed. Combusting Malice was unlike any fire they had faced before. "Everyone, proceed with care," he commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. "This is no ordinary fire."
The guards spread out, forming a coordinated line as they approached the walls and rows of lab materials aflame. Specialized extinguishing compounds, kept in plentiful supply by the royal Chemist Seggin, were retrieved from some nearby containers. Alas, these agents proved little to no effect against the bizarre, unwieldly blaze.
"Keep it steady," the captain urged. "We need to cover every inch of it."
"It's no good! It's like the fire is feeding upon itself!"
Amidst the mounting apprehension of the guard, Mona suddenly pushed Cawlin aside and tried summoning a freezing spell. The effects were instant.
Around them, the worst of the flames were already receding and the threat showed imminent signs of containment. The captain turned to survey the scene, his expression stern but relieved.
It was then that Impa approached, her swift and graceful movements catching his attention. "Captain," Impa greeted, handing over a neatly compiled report. She did her best to keep her expression neutral, though a hint of amusement danced in her eyes. "Here's some observations I made to supplement your report on the incident."
"Thank you, Lady Impa." The captain accepted the report with a nod, his brow furrowing as he glanced at the document.
"Hmm. Seems like you and your team almost missed out on the fun."
"Yes, that was something else. Well, kudos to the lot of you. It looks like you handled things quite effectively." He allowed a brief smile to break his stern demeanor.
Impa grinned, unable to resist a bit of light-hearted teasing. "Nothing like a bit of parkour, a little fire-fighting, and always keeping a fresh eye for Yiga troublemakers. Just another day on the job."
Nearby, Cawlin shook his head, a chuckle escaping from him. "I appreciate the levity, Lady Impa. But in all seriousness, well done. My boss already has his work cut out for him. Now this? Let's just say your swift action and coordination were invaluable."
The last of the flames were finally snuffed out, although it would be some while before the smoke began to so much as dissipate.
"Good work, everyone," the captain of the guard said, his voice carrying a sense of accomplishment. "We've averted disaster tonight."
Suddenly, Mona turned and rushed into Impa's arms. The move was quite unexpected as Impa, feeling the wind knocked out of her, coughed unintentionally. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around Mona, who had begun clinging desperately to her.
The captain's expression hardened, but he turned politely away to size up Impa's footnotes. Ah, it was a very comprehensive repair bill. "Hmm." His expression soured, and he almost didn't notice as a subordinate approached with an umpteenth pale of water. "Huh? Good work, lad," the captain stated, patting the guard on the shoulder. He looked back over toward Impa. "Miss? We'll bolster our defenses and ensure the castle remains…oh?"
Impa's voice was gentle yet firm as she tried consoling Mona to the best her lingering adrenaline would accommodate. "Shhhh." She patted Mona on the back, before at last separating.
Nearby, Cawlin cowered behind a tentative pile of singed research materials the guards were pooling together, his eyes flitting to the entryway.
"What's going on?" There in the doorway was Seggin, having returned to safeguard the office from looters after he heard the alarm bells.
The captain strode over, pulling Seggin aside, while Impa found Mona was refusing to let go.
"You're her. The one my mother spoke of. The Sheikah matriarch. My mother was saved by some Sheikah after a storm, and she taught me the old ways, what the stones imparted," Mona begat, her breath coming in ragged gasps, managing only to whisper unsteadily, her body shaking.
"Whoa, okay. Umm... why don't you pull up a seat? It sounds like you got the brunt of the smoke in your lungs," Impa ventured.
Mona waved her concerns away, before nodding at a guard offering her a glass of water. "Thanks."
"Your accent, by the way. I'm not familiar with it?" Impa tried.
"I'm not sure anybody would. But, I am familiar of the name, Impa... I know you're Zelda's best hope. Especially if that nincompoop seems set around bringing a toy sword to stem the coming tides."
"...Okay?" Impa's eyes, lined with all nighters since the initial court summons, widened a bit, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. She remembered fragments of stories, a stormy seas, hints of islander in her father's side. The records of her tribe ran deeper than spilled ink. But, alas, any mention of this Mona was to her knowledge not about to be found in a family album.
She would have to ask Purah. For now, however, a sit rep. She turned and regarded Cawlin testily. "Your lab, it's in shambles." She lilted a bit, the adrenaline finally wearing off.
"You need sleep," Cawling observed.
"Eh, what can you do," Impa remarked dully, before retreating from the sudden feeling a Zora was barreling down on her. Instead, it correlated to a firm grip on her shoulder. "Seggin?"
Impa found she was already horizontal. Apparently, the exhaustion was too much. The Zora, along with Mona's help, carefully brought her upright. Impa yawned, and shifted uncomfortably as Mona started instinctively looping her arm with Impa's midsection to render further support.
She simply patted Mona's hand appreciatively as it finished parking about her belt line, not remarking more than she thought necessary given the lateness of the hour and the recent strain of their brave attempts to quench an inferno. "We'll sort this out later, when Zelda and the Champions can weigh in on your origins," she related idly.
"Yes, that we shall," Mona affirmed, flinching as Impa reached to place a hand against her cheek.
"For now, Mona, it is very nice to make your acquaintance."
Just then, Cawlin stepped forth, his voice steady. "I second that!"
"Great," Seggin remarked dryly, before handing Cawlin a broom. "Put some of that adrenaline to good use."
In the early pre-dawn light, Urbosa snapped awake. The alarm had long gone quiet. No, she was instinctively responding to Zelda's wails.
For there, directly below the walkway she was carefully guarding all through the earlier afternoon, Impa was spread eagle, a glinting shuriken with a steady stream of stasis talisman effects emanating from its exposed tips pressed into the small of her back and somehow stubbornly pinning the poor Sheikah to the ground.
Mona was nowhere to be seen.
Grunting uncomfortably, Impa lifted her chin to enunciate: "Mail for you dearies."
Somebody up top was in a bad mood. Well, as her team hurried forth and helped her to rising, Impa at last produced from her garment a hand-delivered reply from the elders. "The veracity of the defense's appeal for a mistrial will be weighed in a matter of hours," she recanted.
Urbosa, wrapping Impa in a blanket and pressing her forehead against the other's protectively, was doing everything she could to not go full bloodlust ballistic.
The loss of the Malice sample and the destruction of additional lab property had no doubt stirred the courtiers into a frenzy, but that was no excuse.
Adding to the latest turmoil was this strong possibility forming in the back of everybody's minds that Impa and others who helped quell the flames could now be suffering from acute Malice poisoning.
Carrying the momentum of a successful bid for the mistrial, with opening remarks to facilitate the appeals now on the horizon, the assumption is Urbosa and her fellow defense counsel can feed on these newest matters of public interest:
[] Independently Verify. The protagonists can choose to investigate the true cause of the fire as well as bring a number of eyewitnesses and first responders in the hopes it adds weight to the appeals. They must gather clues and testimonies to build a compelling case for the tribunal elders.
[] Malice Poisoning. It would appear Impa has faced the brunt of the opposition's ire, despite putting herself at great risk while quelling the combusting Malice samples. The heroes must turn to Robbie and Purah to seek a cure for the Malice poisoning. They will explore ancient remedies and consult with knowledgeable healers to in the hopes of further solidifying public interest in their case.
Where once the old screening that the Second Gatehouse provided, separating law-abiding tourism from booze-ridden ne'er-do-wells, was about the only consideration in planning a visit to see the Champions. Since Calamity Ganon's return, new, state-of-the-art point-defense Guardian turrets panned and scanned for the unsuspecting. A bulwark of a lynel sweetened the deal for anyone milling about.
At last, Mona happened upon an all-but-forgotten side entrance.
There was Princess Zelda, seated in the witness box. Large, polished brass framing with reinforced glass, displaying her clearly enough to passerby without subjecting her to any mistreatment.
Her royal blue and gold formal attire had been well-preserved, a stark contrast to the Malice-etched pews and the lingering smell of spells having been cast in the blind. The Champion's Hall, remodeled at the drop of a hat into a courtroom, retained much of its luster, save the windows, their remains glossed over by Hylian forensic teams during a hastily abandoned repair effort.
Her hands were folded tightly in her lap, knuckles white against the deep blue fabric. While her face maintained its diplomatic mask, there was a subtle tension in her jaw. The ornate golden crown on her head caught the dreadful, perpetually malformed light streaming through the tall windows, etching forever into her calm expression the semblance of a harsh, rebuking glower.
Mona felt a surge of desperation. She wanted to reach out, to help, but just by looking at it, it seemed the glass was too rigid. It didn't help matters that her feet were rooted to the spot.
Suddenly, with slow, painful effort, Zelda brought her gaze over to meet Mona's, and in that moment, Mona felt a wave of emotions. Sobbing uncontrollably, her legs gave out as she crumpled to the floor.
Over the pained screams of the damned, she could clearly hear the Princess, muffled yet determined, a little bird defying the limits of a an undeserved cage.
The murk began to scour her eyes again. Was it another Blood Moon? She turned to leave.
Cado was summoned unexpectedly to the Champion's Hall during the off hours, a direct request from the royal courtiers to help set up crowd control barricades. It seemed like a routine task, perhaps another layer of security following the Yiga's attempts to throw the proceedings into outright chaos.
Yet, the timing just felt odd. He made a mental note to ask Robbie about this later.
Hurrying over, Cado found a number of orderlies and castle guards dodging between piles of barricades in an unerected, dilapidated heap. "What's this?"
Despite the nighttime conditions, it was clear some of the barricades were being hastily thrown into the moat, a fair drop at that.
The odd sight was made stranger when he heard rather than at first saw Mona in the water, screaming to be let out. Whether she was a capable swimmer or not, apparently the moat--a broad canal wrapping the Sanctuary and culminating in roiling currents in a part of the main access straddled by the windowed northwest façade of the Champion's Hall and the far more routinely utilized Second Gatehouse--had other intentions.
Mona stirred, shouts registering through the chop of the current. Her head cleared the waterline and she glanced up.
"Who is that?" somebody was asking.
"Dunno. Fetch me a line, would you?" asked another.
"Grab the line, miss!"
Mona did as instructed. She held on tight.
As she was raised, she decided against keeping her eyes shut in case her kneecaps bumped the natural rock wall or something.
She immediately wished she hadn't.
There, among the lacquered planks of an impressive ship of the line, was a glint of a gold-toothed sneer. But, before she could make out any other details, that crewmember stepped clear, allowing the sea captain herself to stride forth and lend a firm hand to pull Mona up to safety.
She was too wobbily to stand. Coughing in embarrassment, Mona kneeled on the main deck and promptly fixed her nightgown about her person.
"Greet the captain, why don't ya?" demanded a sailor.
Mona nodded, lifting her gaze. "Tetra, I've heard many a tale about you. It is an honor."
"Hmm, who's that, lovely?" asked Purah, pushing past a nurse and checking Mona's bedside placard. Not satisfied, she held the Princess' personal Sheikah Slate over the hospital bed. "Well, you're in luck, Ms. Mona. No sign of Malice in your makeup." The researcher clasped Mona's wrist and counted quietly for a beat.
"And, why might that be a concern?" the nurse sought, rounding upon and shooing Purah to stand at a more or less respectable distance from the patient.
Nodding apologetically, Purah did so, while further indicating with the Sheikah slate as she elaborated: "That attack upon the Champion's Hall left such a mess; it's a wonder how we'll ultimately get the debris out of the dang moat. But, good thing attempts were underway through the night, as how else would anybody have noticed you? What were you doing, sleepwalking?"
"I honestly have no clue."
"Well, neither do we. Now, about your charts. I hesitate to rely on a guard's estimations. There is reason to believe the Malice was contained, heh, apparently thanks in particular to some quick thinking by Robbie and yours truly!" She paused, beaming and throwing up her usual series of hand signs.
"So, I'm good to go?"
"Ye...I would assume that's fine, so long as you're feeling better? You were kind of murmuring in your sleep. Uh, not before you fell in. I mean here."
Mona blinked in surprise. If Purah's account was anything to go by, it sounded like that bit with the pirates was but a waking memory. The nurse meanwhile was indicating a chart, explaining calmly of a series of special elixirs that would take no time clear from her system. Yippee.
Indeed, she was on her feet again in moments, being shown by Purah to her laundered and dried nightgown as well as a place to change.
While she slipped the item over her head, she relished the fact her eyesight was no longer keen on playing tricks on her. Whatever that vivid crap was, flashes of it still played but were now relegated to her mind's eye. Sighing, she gave a courteous bow to Purah. "Thank you, kindly."
Purah nodded before hopping and skipping away as if to a merry tune playing in her head.
At last, a needed pause in exchanging formalities. Chewing her lip, Mona fought back a desire to kick something. This was not normally her thing, whether to be dumb enough to be sedated and possibly spill the beans, or more to the point, to actively seek to compromise her mission.
But, as to the next objective? She would have to entertain the idea of walking up to the Champion's, probably all huddled together in their spiffy little lounge, to some other time.
There were more pressing matters.
She smirked, glancing about for a magicked sundial. Going by Purah's apparent enthusiasm, their next foray was imminent. She couldn't shake the feeling that the heroes needed every bit of intel to face the impending threat. But, so too did the courtiers given their increasing, frantic demands upon the Champions. Which supplied more of the initial conditions for her master?
She would pick Robbie's brain. See if he was either trustworthy enough for Mona to help him secure that sample of...the stuff. It was so prominent in her vision, she shivered.
With Kohga's unsettling field trials of the Malice-imbued Sheikah tech, the mere proximity to it clearly playing havoc on her mind, she found herself in a moral quandary. The Yiga had always been known to not underestimate the inventiveness of Hylians; now, they were inviting the kingdom to open Pandora's Box.
A kingdom whose subjects that Mona, as much as she hated to admit it, now owed a huge favor.
She decided it was time then to play devil's advocate, especially if she risked interacting with Robbie and his predispositions. Short of splashing some of it on him, she would make clear to him the dire consequences of trying to work some magic out of it.
The corridor outside the medical wing was darkening, closing in around her as she strode. Her eyes unfocusing, she willed herself to stay calm.
"Say it," an archaic, disembodied voice, mimicking the accent of her surrogate mother as it leveled that simple command at her.
"...Malice."
[X] Sue for a Mistrial.
Still waiting on the usual summons well into mid-morning, Daruk, at last went to wake Zelda, Urbosa and the others. While he welcomed the idea of the courts allowing either team a bit of extra rest after the recent string of unexpected events, the trial took precedent. That, and the defense counsel had already run the risk of a forfeiture for a past tardiness just the other day.
As he approached their usual off-hours stomping grounds, the lounge, he noticed it was boarded up. Wholly intact, but inaccessible as contractors and heavy Sheikah equipment were fussing over the hall proper. Hmm. Well, it was a good thing that Urbosa's outfit had not chosen to remain on site that time around, what with crews noisily making good on repairing the courtroom afresh.
It hadn't occurred to the Goron Champion why the trial was not back on much like the day before.
He would at least check in with them all. That meant perhaps the "safehouse". Technically, a stopover at any part of the castle was one of the safest places to be while adventuring in the domain. But no matter. Daruk approached Zelda's study, ensuring his footsteps on the hard stone were gentle, not wanting to startle his friends.
"Good morning," Impa was already up, sipping tea as she leaned against the railing of the walkway spanning between the study and Zelda's actual bedroom.
Daruk greeted her a warm smile. "Well, somebody is in fighting form!"
Impa nodded appreciably before draining the contents of the cup, relinquishing it and a saucer to a waiting attendant before stretching tiredly. Her muscles were still tense from the fight. "Thank you, Daruk...I trust you slept well?"
"Well enough. Nothing short of a rockslide would have woken this Champion."
Zelda, still weary but determined, nodded as she stepped into the daylight, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, thank you." She approached, prodding Impa, clearly perturbed. "Hey. We need to stay focused."
"I'm just waiting on word from either Urbosa or Purah. Sounded like both had some stuff to attend to at sunrise."
"About that," Revali, flapping into their midst, twirled gracefully before bowing to the Princess.
"Morning, Revali-kun," Zelda allowed, nodding to him. "How nice of you to join us."
"Yes. If you'll pardon, Himesama, I wish to confer with the Bailiff for a spell. Daruk, I trust you've been to the Hall this morning?"
"Yeah. And despite how far into the day we've progressed, they're still applying some finishing touches to our Hall."
"That's what I was worried about." Revali, dipping his beak, brushed a feather's tip to his brow. "Well, can't say I blame any of you."
Zelda and Impa both blinked at the Champion concernedly.
It was Daruk, blinking slowly, his mouth flattening, who hit upon the situation: "Urbosa has put the whole dang thing on hold!"
Revali nodded, broadening his wings in a sort of shrug. "She must have sued for a mistrial."
"Indeed," rang out Urbosa from the thoroughfare, waving a sealed letter of significance.
She approached, and tore open the contents to declare with mounting apprehension: "...ah, this must have been sent in error."
Narrowing her eyes, Zelda stepped forth and took the letter, scanning it. "What is this nonsense?"
Despite the unerring consistency of the vision, Purah was probably correct in assuming the Hall had already been scrubbed clean of the limited amount that had bled from the corrupted slate while it was being subdued. Next on a series of quick errands was for Mona to ascertain where even that trace amount of Malice had been secreted away. According to her network of spies, a visit to the Royal Chemist's dedicated facilities within the castle's lower levels was due.
Well, getting in there was no laughing matter. She would have to wait for a changing of the guard, which meant well past sundown.
What stage was the moon going to be the hours leading up to it? Would she have enough cover? She gathered the necessary materials for the operation from a stash outside the Lost Woods and pressed a few pedestrians for information.
Ah, the head Chemist was a Mr. Seggin, apparently one of the few Zora stationed within the castle full-time. He was stern and showed signs of military training. Then, there was the matter of his assistant, Cawlin, a youngster moonlighting as an elixirs supplier for Beedle. Both of those names rang a bell.
Beedle, wiping sweat from his brow as he returned the message into Zelda's care, newly translated and with a handful of self-promotion blurbs replete with smilies, returned to the backrooms of his humble storefront.
Purah's voice was steady as she opted to read the contents at long last. "Mona, your secret is safe with me for now, but these Moblins are crafty. They intend to torture me for information if my current use as a siren drawing sailors into a trap is exhausted. Signed, Astrid."
Impa, frowning, turned to her sister. "Why do both of those names ring a bell?" She was stopped from further scrutiny of the handwritten note, as Beedle returned.
"Well, now that somebody is in on the 'Mission'," Beedle aired quietly, glancing about surreptitiously as he presented a long, ornamental scabbard to their group. "I feel comfortable handing this over."
The weight of the scabbard's contents registered in Impa's trained grip, sealing away further doubts about sticking around to enjoy the festival atmosphere for a bit.
Urbosa's eyes narrowed, following Beedle's retreating form as he ducked back into his store. "Well, that just introduces more questions."
"Damn right," grated Purah. "And not like we're gonna let these Moblins get what they want."
Impa, looking quite pumped up at this apparent present, as she drew forth a Sheikah longsword, a masterwork of a winding gold foil dragon inlay blade along with numerous, painstakingly implemented Sheikah runes. She reseated it, attaching the scabbard to her belt. "Neato."
This added to the impression that Impa was the Champions' personal bodyguard, as she strode with such a dedicated glower at everything that moved. Her party began touring Castle Town's stalls for the afternoon, with questions pertaining to the trial, and this other matter of a Moblin's prisoner, quickly fading behind a burgeoning grumble in bellies that had missed breakfast.
Hours passed, until Mona at last approached the royal Chemist's office under the cover of darkness, she knew that gaining access would be tricky. It was clear among the kingdom's commoners to never run afoul of Seggin's military training and Cawlin's clever brain, this pair would certainly make the task even more daunting.
It was the start of twilight hours as the sun gave one last cheery salute from its descent over the horizons. Mona waited just a moment longer, looking for that opportune moment to slip past Cawlin, who was standing guard outside the Chemist's office while somebody—it didn't sound like Robbie, so was probably the Zora—was tirelessly working a dremel within.
She listened intently as Seggin and Cawlin sometimes conversed, hoping it could unravel some details about their progress of satisfying the court's wishes.
"Cawlin, ensure the facility remains secure tonight. Our research into the Malice is of the highest importance and must go unimpeded," explained the Zora.
"Understood, Master Seggin. I will remain at my post. Nothing short of the Calamity will stop us."
"Good." And then without another word, the Zora quickly tidied up the office, leaving the keys with his assistant, Cawlin, before heading home for the night.
Cawlin stood poised in the doorway, watching the Zora amble away. The corridor was quiet, save for the flickering of illuminating fixtures—a curious blend of torches in wall sockets and a cluster of bioluminescent flora trimming the doorframe. Perhaps the Zora's handiwork.
Mona peeked out from her hiding spot, smirking at the scene. She took a slow, steadying breath and stepped out of the shadows with a confident, nonchalant demeanor. "Cawlin, right? Master Seggin sent me to assist with the evening rounds. He mentioned that he might need—" She halted mid-sentence, realizing Cawlin was not in the doorway.
Instead, she heard the unmistakable sounds of a struggle within the office.
Peering inside, she saw Kohga's right-hand man, Sooga, trying to pry the office keys from Cawlin's trembling but stubborn grip. Without hesitation, Mona rushed forward, her limbs a blur, quickly repelling the Yiga with a steady yet decisive glower.
Helping an amazed Cawlin to his feet, she introduced herself. "You're safe now. Though, strange, I thought all noncombatants assigned to the castle were sent home given the increased safety measures."
Cawlin, wincing, rose and hastily tried explained his circumstance. "Oh, you are totally right in that regard. Just, the Zora still thinks of our work as part and parcel to castle defense. He is military—."
"Ah, guess that makes him particularly strict. A bit like our Princess at times?" Mona tried.
"Heh." Cawlin gave a sheepish grin, then narrowed his eyes, sniffing. He gasped. "The samples!"
A faint smell of smoke wafted through the air, growing stronger with each passing moment. Mona and Cawlin quickly turned their attention to the lab, where they saw plumes of smoke rising from the far end, a section containing the vials of Malice samples.
It stood to reason that Sooga in his retreat had discretely set fire to the lab. The jerk.
Their bellies full, the skies darkening steadily, some of the Champions had agreed to retire once more at Zelda's study. Unless Mona was summoned to the same tribunal the following morning, it would be some time before any of the Champions could commit to a rescue effort.
Urbosa lay on a cot in Zelda's study, tossing and turning repeatedly. Despite her sharp attire and levity during the day spent with her friends, she was still clearly recovering from her injuries.
Impa, meanwhile, was pacing the walkway outside with a determined expression.
Just then, far below, issued the clomping of horse drawn carriages and yammering of royal guards. Impa was taken aback at the commotion, before spotting the column of fresh smoke. "Huh."
Then sounded alarm bells, which showed no signs of concluding, ringing out loudly and alerting the entire castle to the emergency. Impa sprang to the ledge, her sandaled feet spaced apart as she deployed a teleportation rune.
Urbosa shifted with a groan, her senses immediately retaliating. The sound of the alarm bell resonated through the walls, signaling trouble. She pushed herself to her feet, despite the lingering pain from her earlier injuries, and quickly assessed the situation.
"Not again," she muttered, her warrior instincts kicking in. She knew that time was of the essence, and the safety of the castle and its inhabitants was at stake. "Impa, what's going on out there?"
There was no response. Only the soft fluttering of talisman-inscribed ofuda in the breeze.
Impa settled lightly atop one of the castle's towers as she assessed the quickest route to the fire that had broken out. It was apparently hitting the Chemist's lab the hardest. She gawked.
Without wasting another second, she leapt forth, her body moving fluidly through the air. She landed on a nearby rooftop, her steps light and precise. With a burst of speed, she sprinted across the expensive roof tiles, careful not to dislodge any while constantly on the lookout for the best footholds and handholds as she vaulted over obstacles, her movements seamless, almost clockwork.
Impa soon reached the Chemist's lab. The added adrenaline of the hurry propelled her forward, awakening more than just urgency. There was this earnest desire to protect the castle and its inhabitants. That fueled her every step and sometimes misstep.
She tucked, rolling through an open window to land inside the midst of the laboratory ablaze. She saw Mona and Cawlin working frantically to contain the fire. The plumes of smoke rose around them, carrying potent, acrid smells of burning chemicals. There was no time to waste. She powered toward either of them. "Need some help?" Impa asked, her voice steady despite the circumstances.
Her sudden arrival drew the attention of Mona and Cawlin, who looked up in surprise and relief.
Mona was nodding, clearly grateful for the reinforcements. "We need to contain the fire and save the samples!"
Impa nodded.
As the alarm bell continued sounding through the castle, a nearby garrison of castle guard bolted into action. Their footsteps thundered down the corridors as they rushed toward the Chemist's lab, prepared for anything.
The captain of the guard led his team with a determined stride.
As the smell of smoke grew stronger, they at last neared the lab, the sight of smoldering vials, excited particulates of Malice, and some initial responders greeted them. The captain's eyes narrowed. Combusting Malice was unlike any fire they had faced before. "Everyone, proceed with care," he commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. "This is no ordinary fire."
The guards spread out, forming a coordinated line as they approached the walls and rows of lab materials aflame. Specialized extinguishing compounds, kept in plentiful supply by the royal Chemist Seggin, were retrieved from some nearby containers. Alas, these agents proved little to no effect against the bizarre, unwieldly blaze.
"Keep it steady," the captain urged. "We need to cover every inch of it."
"It's no good! It's like the fire is feeding upon itself!"
Amidst the mounting apprehension of the guard, Mona suddenly pushed Cawlin aside and tried summoning a freezing spell. The effects were instant.
Around them, the worst of the flames were already receding and the threat showed imminent signs of containment. The captain turned to survey the scene, his expression stern but relieved.
It was then that Impa approached, her swift and graceful movements catching his attention. "Captain," Impa greeted, handing over a neatly compiled report. She did her best to keep her expression neutral, though a hint of amusement danced in her eyes. "Here's some observations I made to supplement your report on the incident."
"Thank you, Lady Impa." The captain accepted the report with a nod, his brow furrowing as he glanced at the document.
"Hmm. Seems like you and your team almost missed out on the fun."
"Yes, that was something else. Well, kudos to the lot of you. It looks like you handled things quite effectively." He allowed a brief smile to break his stern demeanor.
Impa grinned, unable to resist a bit of light-hearted teasing. "Nothing like a bit of parkour, a little fire-fighting, and always keeping a fresh eye for Yiga troublemakers. Just another day on the job."
Nearby, Cawlin shook his head, a chuckle escaping from him. "I appreciate the levity, Lady Impa. But in all seriousness, well done. My boss already has his work cut out for him. Now this? Let's just say your swift action and coordination were invaluable."
The last of the flames were finally snuffed out, although it would be some while before the smoke began to so much as dissipate.
"Good work, everyone," the captain of the guard said, his voice carrying a sense of accomplishment. "We've averted disaster tonight."
Suddenly, Mona turned and rushed into Impa's arms. The move was quite unexpected as Impa, feeling the wind knocked out of her, coughed unintentionally. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around Mona, who had begun clinging desperately to her.
The captain's expression hardened, but he turned politely away to size up Impa's footnotes. Ah, it was a very comprehensive repair bill. "Hmm." His expression soured, and he almost didn't notice as a subordinate approached with an umpteenth pale of water. "Huh? Good work, lad," the captain stated, patting the guard on the shoulder. He looked back over toward Impa. "Miss? We'll bolster our defenses and ensure the castle remains…oh?"
Impa's voice was gentle yet firm as she tried consoling Mona to the best her lingering adrenaline would accommodate. "Shhhh." She patted Mona on the back, before at last separating.
Nearby, Cawlin cowered behind a tentative pile of singed research materials the guards were pooling together, his eyes flitting to the entryway.
"What's going on?" There in the doorway was Seggin, having returned to safeguard the office from looters after he heard the alarm bells.
The captain strode over, pulling Seggin aside, while Impa found Mona was refusing to let go.
"You're her. The one my mother spoke of. The Sheikah matriarch. My mother was saved by some Sheikah after a storm, and she taught me the old ways, what the stones imparted," Mona begat, her breath coming in ragged gasps, managing only to whisper unsteadily, her body shaking.
"Whoa, okay. Umm... why don't you pull up a seat? It sounds like you got the brunt of the smoke in your lungs," Impa ventured.
Mona waved her concerns away, before nodding at a guard offering her a glass of water. "Thanks."
"Your accent, by the way. I'm not familiar with it?" Impa tried.
"I'm not sure anybody would. But, I am familiar of the name, Impa... I know you're Zelda's best hope. Especially if that nincompoop seems set around bringing a toy sword to stem the coming tides."
"...Okay?" Impa's eyes, lined with all nighters since the initial court summons, widened a bit, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. She remembered fragments of stories, a stormy seas, hints of islander in her father's side. The records of her tribe ran deeper than spilled ink. But, alas, any mention of this Mona was to her knowledge not about to be found in a family album.
She would have to ask Purah. For now, however, a sit rep. She turned and regarded Cawlin testily. "Your lab, it's in shambles." She lilted a bit, the adrenaline finally wearing off.
"You need sleep," Cawling observed.
"Eh, what can you do," Impa remarked dully, before retreating from the sudden feeling a Zora was barreling down on her. Instead, it correlated to a firm grip on her shoulder. "Seggin?"
Impa found she was already horizontal. Apparently, the exhaustion was too much. The Zora, along with Mona's help, carefully brought her upright. Impa yawned, and shifted uncomfortably as Mona started instinctively looping her arm with Impa's midsection to render further support.
She simply patted Mona's hand appreciatively as it finished parking about her belt line, not remarking more than she thought necessary given the lateness of the hour and the recent strain of their brave attempts to quench an inferno. "We'll sort this out later, when Zelda and the Champions can weigh in on your origins," she related idly.
"Yes, that we shall," Mona affirmed, flinching as Impa reached to place a hand against her cheek.
"For now, Mona, it is very nice to make your acquaintance."
Just then, Cawlin stepped forth, his voice steady. "I second that!"
"Great," Seggin remarked dryly, before handing Cawlin a broom. "Put some of that adrenaline to good use."
In the early pre-dawn light, Urbosa snapped awake. The alarm had long gone quiet. No, she was instinctively responding to Zelda's wails.
For there, directly below the walkway she was carefully guarding all through the earlier afternoon, Impa was spread eagle, a glinting shuriken with a steady stream of stasis talisman effects emanating from its exposed tips pressed into the small of her back and somehow stubbornly pinning the poor Sheikah to the ground.
Mona was nowhere to be seen.
Grunting uncomfortably, Impa lifted her chin to enunciate: "Mail for you dearies."
Somebody up top was in a bad mood. Well, as her team hurried forth and helped her to rising, Impa at last produced from her garment a hand-delivered reply from the elders. "The veracity of the defense's appeal for a mistrial will be weighed in a matter of hours," she recanted.
Urbosa, wrapping Impa in a blanket and pressing her forehead against the other's protectively, was doing everything she could to not go full bloodlust ballistic.
The loss of the Malice sample and the destruction of additional lab property had no doubt stirred the courtiers into a frenzy, but that was no excuse.
Adding to the latest turmoil was this strong possibility forming in the back of everybody's minds that Impa and others who helped quell the flames could now be suffering from acute Malice poisoning.
Carrying the momentum of a successful bid for the mistrial, with opening remarks to facilitate the appeals now on the horizon, the assumption is Urbosa and her fellow defense counsel can feed on these newest matters of public interest:
[] Independently Verify. The protagonists can choose to investigate the true cause of the fire as well as bring a number of eyewitnesses and first responders in the hopes it adds weight to the appeals. They must gather clues and testimonies to build a compelling case for the tribunal elders.
[] Malice Poisoning. It would appear Impa has faced the brunt of the opposition's ire, despite putting herself at great risk while quelling the combusting Malice samples. The heroes must turn to Robbie and Purah to seek a cure for the Malice poisoning. They will explore ancient remedies and consult with knowledgeable healers to in the hopes of further solidifying public interest in their case.
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