Monthly Archives: July 2021

Iam only too aware that by publicly declaring The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time To be my favorite video game, I also introduce myself as a basic bitch.

You’d be hard-pressed to think of a much more obvious choice of favorite game, but don’t mind.

The Zelda The series’ first foray into the third dimension was a landmark game when it launched on the N64 in 1998, and with Super Mario 64 and it golden 007 remains emblematic of Nintendo’s first revolutionary successes with the biggest technological leap ever made in the field of gaming.

Iconic (or at least infamous, in the case of the Water Temple) dungeon designs, clever controls, and intricate puzzle-solving Ocarina a rapid success with critics (it remains the most popular all-time game on Metacritic, with 99/100) and a longtime fan favorite.

The game was such a success that its influence weighed heavily on the franchise for nearly two decades, with four 3D Zelda following titles – of Majora’s Mask to the recently remastered Skyward sword – who have borrowed basic systems, characters and game mechanics roughly from Ocarina.

It took until 2017 Breath of the wild for Nintendo to finally break free and try something new, resulting in a game that feels poised to enjoy the same extended influence – although it could still learn a thing or two from Ocarina labyrinthine levels.

I could go on about Ocarina influence – how his locking system shaped hand-to-hand combat, the more subtle impacts of his contextual controls, even the arguably less positive role he played in driving open world games to be bigger, more grandiose and ever larger.

But I never fell in love with Ocarina because he was influential. My eight-year-old self didn’t know – and wouldn’t have cared. I fell in love with Ocarina because it was like the first game that opened up a sprawling world filled with life, charm, humor and, yes, with more than a little tragedy to go through it all.

He’s there from the start of the game, the camera pans across the expanse of Hyrule Fields in the game’s dreamlike title sequence – though you’ll have to play for an hour or two to get out of the idyllic confines of Kokiri Forest and go- there yourself.

As striking as this sight is, she pales in comparison to the characters calling her home. SNES A link to the past featured only one small village (two, if you count its otherworldly counterpart), but Ocarina packs in abundance. Goron City Percussion Caverns; the serene pools of Zora’s estate; the subtly spooky Kakariko village, in which many of the game’s darkest corners lurk.

None impressed as much in 1998 as Hyrule Castle Town, a surprisingly small settlement that masks its size with a few disorienting shifts in perspective that always leave the feeling that there is more to the city, just outside of the screen.

Ocarina direct suite Majora’s Mask would continue to refine what the old game had started, moving its communities to the center of the game rather than its peripheries, and building complex, intertwined, and interpersonal narratives that crisscross the structure of the time loop.

But while both games derive their emotional adhesion from the impending destinies of their cities, it is only in Ocarina do you have to bear the brunt of its after-effects.

Like so much Zelda games, it explores two worlds – in this case two timelines, seven years apart, before and after the cataclysmic takeover by the big bad Ganondorf.

Towards the halfway point of the game, when Link is first frozen in the Temple of Time and emerges from it, now a teenager, I remember being struck for the first time by the ravaged world: the darkened sky, the buildings. in ruins of the city, the hordes of ReDead zombies crawling around its ruins.

But as I settled into this new Hyrule, it was the people there who started to sit with me the heaviest. It’s no mistake that most of the game’s key cities are empty in a darker timeline, with their populations enslaved, killed, or forced to flee. This Hyrule is rendered lifeless by removing most of the characters that brought it to life fairly directly.

Those that remain are seldom unchanged. Take Malon, the carefree young farmer who teaches Link to play Epona’s song as a child. Years later, however, she is imprisoned on her own ranch by a despotic uncle who is at least abusive of the horses on the ranch, if not more.

Of course, since this is a Zelda game, such crises are easy to resolve – in which case winning a few horse races is enough to make things right and restore some normalcy to the world. Link catches an adorable horse as well, but it seems almost as important that at least one life in Hyrule be put back on track.

For all the thrills of righting the wrongs in the darkest variant of Hyrule, I have to admit that when I think back to Ocarina now, a few decades and a few playthroughs later, it’s usually the first half of the game that makes me nostalgic – the happy few hours walking around a world teeming with life, playing like a boy getting to know it along with the player.

One of the few Zelda titles to firmly establish Link as a child – the two timelines have separated sequels, some opting for innocence and others for adolescence – there is a particular playfulness to the early stages of Ocarina.

Much like the supporting characters define the world of Hyrule, it’s smart touches in Link’s character that go a long way to set the tone. There’s the fact that your primary ranged weapon is a slingshot, a toy-like alternative to the bow that you’ll adopt later. There are Link’s growls and shrill screams as he navigates a world that is half too big for him. Most endearing of all, the fact that the iconic Hylian Shield from the series here is way too big for a young Link, crushing his back and forcing him to crouch like a turtle in order to even use it.

There is no doubt that you are playing like a child. Maybe it hits me harder because I was a kid when I first played, but even in my 30s, I see the same charm and playfulness in it that I find in Majora’s Mask, Wind waker, and a lot of 2D Zelda titles, an endearing mark of counter-current heroism that is worlds (or timelines) apart from the gruff sword-clenching that dominates the old Link’s time onscreen.

Seeing Hyrule through the eyes of a child, above all, instills a desire to explore that takes you through fields and dungeons, to dig into every nook and cranny of this vibrant world.

And then, after letting you fall in love, the game snatches that Hyrule off with one hand, while also giving you the power to save it with the other.

Countless games ask us to save the world, but too few give us a reason. Ocarina lets you love his world – from fairies and fishmen to ghosts and gravediggers – so he never needs to ask you to save the world.

You already know you need it.

Dominic Preston is associate editor of the tech site Tech Advisor and occasional contributor to NME. You can read the rest of the Remastered column here

Iam only too aware that by publicly declaring The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time To be my favorite video game, I also introduce myself as a basic bitch.

You’d be hard-pressed to think of a much more obvious choice of favorite game, but don’t mind.

The Zelda The series’ first foray into the third dimension was a landmark game when it launched on the N64 in 1998, and with Super Mario 64 and it golden 007 remains emblematic of Nintendo’s first revolutionary successes with the biggest technological leap ever made in the field of gaming.

Iconic (or at least infamous, in the case of the Water Temple) dungeon designs, clever controls, and intricate puzzle-solving Ocarina a rapid success with critics (it remains the most popular all-time game on Metacritic, with 99/100) and a longtime fan favorite.

The game was such a success that its influence weighed heavily on the franchise for nearly two decades, with four 3D Zelda following titles – of Majora’s Mask to the recently remastered Skyward sword – who have borrowed basic systems, characters and game mechanics roughly from Ocarina.

It took until 2017 Breath of the wild for Nintendo to finally break free and try something new, resulting in a game that feels poised to enjoy the same extended influence – although it could still learn a thing or two from Ocarina labyrinthine levels.

I could go on about Ocarina influence – how his locking system shaped hand-to-hand combat, the more subtle impacts of his contextual controls, even the arguably less positive role he played in driving open world games to be bigger, more grandiose and ever larger.

But I never fell in love with Ocarina because he was influential. My eight-year-old self didn’t know – and wouldn’t have cared. I fell in love with Ocarina because it was like the first game that opened up a sprawling world filled with life, charm, humor and, yes, with more than a little tragedy to go through it all.

He’s there from the start of the game, the camera pans across the expanse of Hyrule Fields in the game’s dreamlike title sequence – though you’ll have to play for an hour or two to get out of the idyllic confines of Kokiri Forest and go- there yourself.

As striking as this sight is, she pales in comparison to the characters calling her home. SNES A link to the past featured only one small village (two, if you count its otherworldly counterpart), but Ocarina packs in abundance. Goron City Percussion Caverns; the serene pools of Zora’s estate; the subtly spooky Kakariko village, in which many of the game’s darkest corners lurk.

None impressed as much in 1998 as Hyrule Castle Town, a surprisingly small settlement that masks its size with a few disorienting shifts in perspective that always leave the feeling that there is more to the city, just outside of the screen.

Ocarina direct suite Majora’s Mask would continue to refine what the old game had started, moving its communities to the center of the game rather than its peripheries, and building complex, intertwined, and interpersonal narratives that crisscross the structure of the time loop.

But while both games derive their emotional adhesion from the impending destinies of their cities, it is only in Ocarina do you have to bear the brunt of its after-effects.

Like so much Zelda games, it explores two worlds – in this case two timelines, seven years apart, before and after the cataclysmic takeover by the big bad Ganondorf.

Towards the halfway point of the game, when Link is first frozen in the Temple of Time and emerges from it, now a teenager, I remember being struck for the first time by the ravaged world: the darkened sky, the buildings. in ruins of the city, the hordes of ReDead zombies crawling around its ruins.

But as I settled into this new Hyrule, it was the people there who started to sit with me the heaviest. It’s no mistake that most of the game’s key cities are empty in a darker timeline, with their populations enslaved, killed, or forced to flee. This Hyrule is rendered lifeless by removing most of the characters that brought it to life fairly directly.

Those that remain are seldom unchanged. Take Malon, the carefree young farmer who teaches Link to play Epona’s song as a child. Years later, however, she is imprisoned on her own ranch by a despotic uncle who is at least abusive of the horses on the ranch, if not more.

Of course, since this is a Zelda game, such crises are easy to resolve – in which case winning a few horse races is enough to make things right and restore some normalcy to the world. Link catches an adorable horse as well, but it seems almost as important that at least one life in Hyrule be put back on track.

For all the thrills of righting the wrongs in the darkest variant of Hyrule, I have to admit that when I think back to Ocarina now, a few decades and a few playthroughs later, it’s usually the first half of the game that makes me nostalgic – the happy few hours walking around a world teeming with life, playing like a boy getting to know it along with the player.

One of the few Zelda titles to firmly establish Link as a child – the two timelines have separated sequels, some opting for innocence and others for adolescence – there is a particular playfulness to the early stages of Ocarina.

Much like the supporting characters define the world of Hyrule, it’s smart touches in Link’s character that go a long way to set the tone. There’s the fact that your primary ranged weapon is a slingshot, a toy-like alternative to the bow that you’ll adopt later. There are Link’s growls and shrill screams as he navigates a world that is half too big for him. Most endearing of all, the fact that the iconic Hylian Shield from the series here is way too big for a young Link, crushing his back and forcing him to crouch like a turtle in order to even use it.

There is no doubt that you are playing like a child. Maybe it hits me harder because I was a kid when I first played, but even in my 30s, I see the same charm and playfulness in it that I find in Majora’s Mask, Wind waker, and a lot of 2D Zelda titles, an endearing mark of counter-current heroism that is worlds (or timelines) apart from the gruff sword-clenching that dominates the old Link’s time onscreen.

Seeing Hyrule through the eyes of a child, above all, instills a desire to explore that takes you through fields and dungeons, to dig into every nook and cranny of this vibrant world.

And then, after letting you fall in love, the game snatches that Hyrule off with one hand, while also giving you the power to save it with the other.

Countless games ask us to save the world, but too few give us a reason. Ocarina lets you love his world – from fairies and fishmen to ghosts and gravediggers – so he never needs to ask you to save the world.

You already know you need it.

Dominic Preston is associate editor of the tech site Tech Advisor and occasional contributor to NME. You can read the rest of the Remastered column here

Popular horror artist Andres Rios recreates several of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time’s weird enemies with terrifying results.

A popular horror concept artist recently set out to recreate some of the spookiest foes in The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time with very detailed renderings that seem to come straight out of Dark souls. Ocarina of time is known as one of the best games of the The Legend of Zelda franchise, initially released on Nintendo 64 with massive critical success and spawning a sequel in the form of Majora’s Mask. While these games were created for people of all ages to enjoy, some of the enemies hide some very disturbing appearances behind the low-poly limitations of the time.

The players of Ocarina of time You may remember encountering horrors such as Dead Hand, Skulltula, and Bongo Bongo. While the game has been rated E10 + by the ESRB, the idea of ​​a cyclops with disembodied hands or a smiling zombie pushing its arms out of the ground doesn’t seem like the most kid-friendly concept, especially for a company like Nintendo. Recently, a horror enthusiast has sought to breathe life into the low-res monsters of the past, and the results are gruesome.

Related: Breath Of The Wild 2 Far From The Mask Of Majora By Nintendo

Andres Rios, a concept artist and character creator famous for his horror artwork, took these unsettling creature designs to the next level, bringing out every horrific detail imaginable in the original enemies. The artist’s terrifying collection includes the Skulltula, Dead Hand, Bongo Bongo, Stalfos, ReDead and Big Poe, all carefully and skillfully set in high definition for the horror and enjoyment of fans of the game. The enemies of this collection seem better match the tastes of Dark souls than a Nintendo game suitable for children.

These spooky images speak for themselves, taking what were already spooky designs and composing them up to 11. All of the creatures were digitally modeled in 3D and painted in ZBrush and rendered in Keyshot. Andres said plans are underway for more monsters to Ocarina of time as good as Majora’s Mask and eventually Wind waker, which means the list of nightmarish fan art will grow even further.

The level of care and attention to detail in these recreations of childhood horrors is astounding with the rest of this artist’s portfolio. Since the artist works for Bandai Namco, the publisher of Dark souls, and looking at their previous work, it’s no wonder the concepts take on a Souls-like appearance. It seems like every day the large fan base for THE Legend of Zelda creates awe-inspiring works of fan art, solidifying the series’ permanent mark on the gaming industry and in the hearts of the dedicated fanbase who were charmed so many years ago by the green-clad adventurer.

Next: Skyward Sword HD Director Has Weird Ocarina Of Time Connection

Sources: Andres Rios / Twitter

Every God of War Ragnarok character confirmed so far

About the Author

Gaepora is the director of the Skyward Sword Knights Academy. Her name and physical appearance inspire comparisons to a character in Ocarina of Time.

Weird and unexpected bonds are woven throughout THE Legend of Zelda. It’s a franchise with a dense history, one that has only gotten denser as its timeline grows more complicated and started to span hundreds of thousands of years. Skyward Sword HD is located at the very beginning of the Zelda chronology and even precedes the founding of Hyrule. It serves as the origin story for Hyrule and the curse that hangs over the earth. So, surprisingly or not, the director of Knight Academy has some bizarre connection to a Sage in Ocarina of time.

Gaepora is Zelda’s father and the director of the Skyloft Knights Academy, where Link and Zelda both study. He ends up being of immense help to Link as the action of the game progresses and turns out to have a vast knowledge of the legends of Skyloft. With his helpful tips on Link’s journey, Gaepora plays a similar role to Kaepora Gaebora, the giant owl of Ocarina of time, Majora’s Mask, and Four swords adventures.

Related: The Legend of Zelda: The Real World Story Behind The Triforce

Kaepora Gaebora’s own story is complicated, as he is Rauru, the Sage of Light, in an alternate form. Rauru is the one who builds the Temple of Time, in order to protect the Triforce with the Temple of Light within. He built the Temple of Time on the ruins of the Sealed Temple, of Skyward sword, which had been destroyed in a brutal and ongoing war. Rauru stays in the Temple of Light to protect the Triforce, and only leaves to watch over Link in his owl form.

Why Rauru could be an incarnation of Gaepora

The physical resemblance between Gaepora and Rauru, and Gaepora and Kaepora Gaebora in turn, is hard to miss. In particular, Gaepora’s and Kaepora Garbora’s eyebrows look a lot alike, as well as Rauru’s upturned mustache. Gaepora’s nose, too, looks noticeably like a beak. His laughter equals, “Hoo hoo hoo! », Which openly invites the parallel to Ocarina of timethe owl. The names of the trio also share an obvious resemblance, but their similarity runs even deeper when you look at the Japanese. The only difference between the words “Gaepora” (ゲ ポ ラ), “Kaepora” (ケ ポ ラ) and “Gaebora” (ゲ ボ ラ) is the presence or absence of a tent. A tenten is a mark next to a hiragana or katakana character, which changes its sound if it is present. In this case, the tenten changes “kae” to “gae” or “po” to “bo”.

Rauru is likely the reincarnation of Gaepora, according to this evidence. THE Legend of Zelda raised the issue of reincarnation elsewhere, especially when it comes to cosmically important people. In Skyward sword, for example, [spoiler] Zelda is revealed to be a reincarnation of the goddess Hylia. So Ocarina of timeThe spooky owl could certainly be the reincarnation of Skyward sword‘s Sage-like director.

Next: Zelda: Breath of the Wild 2 Can Bring Skyward Sword Full Circle

Pokémon Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl show off the Grand Underground map

About the Author

The story of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time spends much of his time re-developing the tradition of Hyrule generated by his predecessors, namely Link to the past. One thing he keeps in mind but the changes are the Spiritual Stones and their exact purpose.

A lot of Ocarina from Time‘s The story revolves around the three goddesses Din, Nayru and Farore. After the three goddesses created Earth, Law and Life respectively, they left behind the Triforce. However, leaving the Triforce in the mortal world has led to a Hyrulean Civil War that takes place before the events of the game, a war that has lasting ramifications for Link.

RELATED: Sorry Nintendo doesn’t need Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time

Spiritual stones and their narrative weight

The formula based on Nintendo’s history for the Zelda the series begins with the release of A link to the past, which first tasks players with acquiring the Master Sword by obtaining the three Pendants of Virtue. These pendants were the first iteration of a now-recurring quest for three MacGuffins, and in Ocarina of time Nintendo has chosen to turn the pendants into spiritual stones. Pendants of Virtue grant Link the ability to draw the Master Sword from its pedestal, and Spirit Stones grant him the same access. Yet the stones have more narrative weight behind them.

Spiritual Stones are divine objects which are essentially useless in themselves. Before the events of Ocarina of time was the Hyrulean Civil War. The point where the three creation goddesses left the world is the location of the Triforce, which has the power to grant any wish to whoever comes in contact with it, and therefore all of Hyrule has gone to war. for that power. In order to stop the war and restore balance to Hyrule, the Triforce has been locked in the Holy Realm behind the Time Gate. The location of the Triforce was believed to be kept a secret from the Hyrule Royal Family.

Sealing the door is the power of the three Spirit Stones offered to the Guardians of the Three Races: the Emerald of Kokiri was given to the Great Mojo Tree, the Ruby of Goron to the ancestors of Darunia, and the Sapphire of Zora to the Zora Royalty. Ganondorf’s evil plan to claim the Triforce is discovered by the Guardians and he does not receive the Stones, which leads him to curse each of the Guardian Deities.

RELATED: The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time is Nintendo’s Skyrim

Link’s Quest for the Spiritual Stones

The player’s quest for Spirit Stones begins with the acquisition of the Kokiri Emerald, attributed to Link by the Great Mojo Tree: the Guardian Deity of the Kokiri Forest. The Great Mojo Tree dies after offering the stone to Link, but not before explaining the story of Hyrule’s creation. It’s a highlight because it shows how strong Ganondorf could become if he were to gain access to the Triforce – which generates a real sense of urgency in the world. With the first stone in hand, Link receives the other two.

The Spiritual Stones turn against the land of Hyrule, however, as Link breaks the seal of the Time Gate and grants Ganondorf access to the Sacred Realm where he obtains the Triforce of Power. In this sense, it seems that the Spirit Stones’ duty to protect the Triforce has only delayed the inevitable. However, the Triforce did not fully grant themselves to Ganondorf, letting him collect the other two pieces from their owners: Link and Zelda. Perhaps it was only a matter of time until someone of evil gained access to the sacred realm, then it would make sense for the Seven Sages to be a backup plan for order to be restored, this who takes the rest of Link’s adventure.

The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D is available on the 3DS.

MORE: Where’s the Master Sword in Zelda: Breath of the Wild 2?

Read more

About the Author