Monk Maz Koshia

We Zelders believe it is not so much dangerous to go alone as it is less fun.  We play solo only when we must.  The rest of the time, we have a routine:  Demelza researches in advance; Itzal – er, does whatever it is Itzal does; we determine what cocktail suits the day’s planned adventures; and we buy snacks. On the day of play, we perch on the sofa, Itzal on one side with the controller, Demelza on the other surrounded by books, notes, papers, iPad, and phone for photography.  During gameplay, it is Demelza’s custom to alternate between consulting the guidebook and online guides, the better to advise Itzal, and typing notes about what worked, what didn’t; what we learned, what we spurned.[1]

In preparing to draft this post, we confidently consulted the notes Demelza had jotted on her iPad the day we battled Monk Maz Koshia.  But that was a month ago, mind you.  And here we found a motley assortment of badly-typed, grammatically-challenged advice, which, after a month’s delay in review, proved not as helpful as we’d hoped.

To wit:

  • If you leave and come back to fight the monks, there will be guardian’s (sic) waiting to fight you. 
  • Ancient in final
  • Use an ir Oda to get rid of all of them clones. 
  • Ancient arrows 
  • Flail
  • *

“Oh, now that’s going to be helpful to writing this post,” snarked Itzal.  To which Demelza retorted, “Well, it all happened so fast, you jumped straight in without waiting for me to tell you what to do, and I can’t be expected to read the guidebook and type notes at the same time, and why is it, by the way, that autocorrect always works when you don’t want it to and never when you do, and–”

At this point, Itzal stepped in to halt a defensive harangue that could have gone on until the release of the sequel to BOTW2, and we all know how long that might be.  He suggested that surely we could transform the gibberish into something resembling usefulness.  And so we began to interpret.

  • If you leave and come back to fight the monks, there will be guardian’s waiting to fight you.  

This one made sense:  We did indeed leave Vah Motoh after activating all the terminals, because the guidebook advised being ready before approaching the monk’s altar.  We decided we weren’t ready, as we hadn’t yet researched the fight with Maz Koshia.  And shoot, we are somewhat senior citizens who need to eat and drink and visit the facilities now and again.  Those activities, ahem, taken care of, we returned to the Shrine of Resurrection and jaunted off to where we’d left the altar.  And, it turns out, if you leave after completing the Divine Beast folderol but before fighting Maz Koshia, all the Guardian scouts or whatever will have returned, and they don’t care if you’re a senior citizen.  

(DEMELZA’S ANNOTATION:  Notwithstanding that there will be monks in the plural later in this post, the note above should reference a singular monk, and “guardian’s” should be “Guardians.”  No apostrophe and capitalized, all very tidy and proper, as one would type it if one were not balancing an iPad on a knee and a heavy book in the hand, and also tasked with refilling drinks, and – THIS ANNOTATION HAS BEEN INTERRUPTED BY ITZAL’S DESIRE TO GET ON WITH THINGS.)

  • Ancient in final

We may have felt ancient in the final trial with Monk Maz Koshia, but it’s clear that this snippet referred not to our age but to wearing Ancient Armor in the final battle against the monk.  We recall (vaguely) having a discussion[2] about which Amiibo-derived Divine Helm to pair with the Ancient Cuirass and Ancient Greaves, and – after reviewing the photographic evidence – we think we decided on Vah Naboris’s helm.  Itzal can’t stand the Vah Ruta helm’s elephant snout, so that was straight out, and we figured if anything was going to get us, it would be electricity, against which the Vah Naboris helm provided protection.[3]  Besides, according to the guidebook, Maz Koshia would act like a Yiga in the first phase of the battle. 

Monk Maz Koshia

Speaking of the first phase:  The monk does indeed hover around, shooting arrows and then vanishing just as you’ve notched and aimed your own arrow, exactly as the Yiga do when encountered out in Hyrule.  Keep your wits about you and shoot at the monk in return. Eventually, he’ll lose a quarter of his health, which brings us to this stellar advice:

  • Use an ir Oda to get rid of all of them clones. 

Erm….is it time for another whinge about why the iPad autocorrects things when you don’t want it to, and doesn’t when you do, and sometimes it comes up with something entirely odd?  Or Oda, in this case? But before we get to that, Demelza is beside herself to clarify that she would never, ever, not in a million years, deliberately write “them clones.”  Of course she meant those.  Or perhaps she wrote “the clones,” but the iPad added an m.  EITHER WAY IT’S CLEARLY NOT A MISTAKE SHE WOULD MAKE. Instead, Demelza offers this explanation:

She has a Spanish keyboard enabled on her iPad and occasionally, in times of high excitement or stress, she accidentally toggles between the default English keyboard and the Spanish, which makes the device’s autocorrect, unreliable even in English, still more perplexing.  Such explanation is supported by the fact that “ir” is the verb “to go” in Spanish, and Oda could mean an ode or a hymn, and after all, this is the Champions’ Ballad, get it?  Ode? Ballad? Oda? Let’s Ir to the Oda, forthwith!

“Now, Demelza,” inquired Itzal, not unreasonably, “if you accidentally toggled the Spanish keyboard, surely you did not suddenly, mid-typing of notes, also switch your thoughts to Spanish, and decide to write “let’s ir to the oda” as if one were off to see the Wizard. What were you actually trying to type in English?”

“Well then,” pivoted Demelza airily, apparently unconcerned about being called out for fabricating a fantastical explanation, “clearly the Spanish-induced autocorrect changed Urbosa to ir Oda. I must have meant to type: Use Urbosa’s Fury to get rid of all the clones.” 

Lots of Monk Maz Koshias

You see, in the second phase of the battle, Maz Koshia splits into a bunch of clones, and you must figure out which is the real Maz Koshia to strike.  We used Urbosa’s Fury to knock out all them clones – er, those clones – at once, leaving the real monk to stand and deliver. 

[ITZAL’S ALTERNATE EXPLANATION:  Instead of the famous Spanish Keyboard Defense, he suggests Demelza started in too early on the cocktails.]

When the monk’s health is depleted by one-half, he becomes very big, sort of like a Hinox, but worse, aerial.  And that’s where the following advice comes in handy, and needs no translation:

  • Ancient arrows  

Pepper the monk with Ancient Arrows and he will fall to the ground briefly, where you can whack at him with your weapon of choice.  When he’s diminished to one-quarter health, he’ll still be large, but at least he won’t be in the air.  During this phase, he’ll use a red laser beam and more clones.  And to that we say:

  • Flail
Monk Maz Koshia brought to his (very large) feet.

For regular readers of our blog, this, too, requires no explanation, since button-mashing is our default strategy in nearly every situation. Flail, and eventually you’ll prevail.

And so it came to pass: the monk admitted defeat. 

At last, the prize
Link admires his new artwork.

Following the battle, the Master Cycle Zero rose from the fighting arena with a full tank of gas; we received the motorcycle rune on our Sheikah slate; and Kass was finally able to sing the Champions’ Ballad in its entirety.  What’s more, he gave us a photo of the Champions, which now hangs proudly in the bedroom loft of Link’s house in Hateno.  

After Link changed clothes to something Itzal deemed more appropriate to his new wheels – the climbing set being the closest he could get to leathers, apparently – we sported about Hyrule doing wheelies and running over Moblins with the Master Cycle Zero.  

Link on Master Cycle Zero
Post-script

But what about that asterisk, you wonder, in Demelza’s notes?   What did the lone asterisk, the final bit of mysterious, badly-typed advice, signify? 

To be honest, we don’t know what the asterisk meant.  But perhaps it could be:

* When it’s over, don’t forget to make yourself a Grand 75 to celebrate.  


[1] It should go without saying, but after that barb about Itzal doing whatever it is he does, we’re saying it, by Jove:  It is also Demelza’s custom to shout directions.  Hmph.

[2] Cough, cough.  If shouting is a discussion.

[3] The four Divine Helms can each pair with the other two pieces of the Ancient Set to generate the Proficiency Bonus, while still offering assistance associated with the beast (and helm) in question.