Ganondorf's Truth: The Origin of Wolfos

For nearly a century I lived as a stray. I pledged no loyalty, not to the guards who tried to tempt me with food and water, and certainly not to the man I blame for everything. For almost a century, until his death, and even now that his children sit on the throne, I have watched his happiness as my misery covers me like a poisonous mist. Ever since that day, the day when I failed to do the one job I saw myself destined for, when my inability to rescue my Master led to his death, I have been wild.

            I still remember him clearly, the desert man. He was a strong king, and a wise ruler. The people thought him evil, but to me he was a God. In truth it was the Triforce that gave him his strength, and that same Triforce that corrupted his heart. I knew him from the time we were children, as I was born from a servant of his Gerudo mother. It is rare that men are born into the Gerudo tribe. The ones who are almost always become their king. Ganondorf was no exception. He was raised to be a noble leader; as a child, I served him faithfully for nearly twenty years, but on the day that mark appeared upon his hand, glowing with the light of the Goddess, the King I knew, the King I loved, was gone forever.