The morning mist of Hyrule sits low in the trees, the birdsong accompanied by the soft sounds of your flute as the sun peeks over the jagged outline of Death Mountain. Your fishy breakfast of dried Octorok jerky is a tasty beginning to another new day. Your modest camp is well hidden, a brown tent and bedroll, near the dying embers of a small fire. On your hip, the weight of your wooden sword bears down on your mind as much as your body, a somber reminder of the dangers of this world. The Elder...