So, yeah... I've gone and made a thing...
It's something I've had on my mind for a while; I figured "Hey! Dark Souls and Undertale has surprisingly much in common! The both have souls as an important aspect of the story, they both have in-game explanations as to why the Player Character revives after death and they both have a somewhat tragic backstory(ies)" And, well, this was the result.
For any hardcore Dark Souls fan, I deeply apologize for this apparent heresy. But if you're still here and you're up for an adventure in the gloomy world of Dark Souls, then stay tuned for more :)
Northcrest Road
A network of roads and traveling stations criss-crossing the lands of a once vast northern kingdom.
Local legend states that it garnered its name from the crest of a dragon the roads form when observed from a certain elevated position.
Yet, symbolism makes for a poor road warden, and nowadays the roads are home to brigands and beasts.
It had been a few hours before the, at least somewhat sunlit grassy valleys of Astora had given way to this hilly, bleak and gray-covered moorland. Even at the best of times, these roads had been dangerous, visited only by the feet or carriage wheels of fools or the desperate.
Frisk wondered what that made them, then.
Weighing the hefty coin purse in their hand, one would think the former, but in these times, the amount of offers they got were quite substantial. After all, Sellsword Frisk was a bit of a legend, a legend now on it's perhaps most dangerous task yet.
They eyed their two charges and benefactors sitting on the other end of the horse-drawn carriage ferrying them all trough the desolate landscape. Only one of them had given up their name - a young woman, Chara, she had informed, a brown-haired, scarlet-eyed and rosy-cheeked woman wearing a high-quality leather armor set reinforced with steel at vulnerable points and backed by a great, bright-green cape. On her right hip hung her weapon; something that could only be described as a kitchen knife. Frisk had noticed how the woman's hand constantly hovered close to the scabbard, as if constantly on edge, the cold stare she had fixed them with all this time gave credence to this, as if she was daring the sellsword to try something stupid, her eyes constantly darting to and fro from Frisk's eyes to the blunt sword resting at their side.
'Good' Frisk thought. Where they were going, they would need to be on guard like that, and she looked like she could handle herself in a fight.
Of more concern was her compatriot, a robe-clad figure with its hood down, looking more at home in a cloister or archive than this forsaken realm. The purple robe itself bore a strange symbol in the chest; a winged orb topping a trio of triangles. In its hand, it held a finely carved staff, that ever so slightly seemed so shimmer at the top. A mage of some kind.
But of course, the strangest thing, and perhaps the biggest cause of concern, was the hand itself, more like a paw, even. A white-furred paw with barely visible claws. A monster. An extremely rare sight outside of Ebott these days.
Unlike Chara, he had remained far more static, staring at the floor and looking as if the whole world was weighing on his shoulders.
'Not good' Frisk thought. Where they were going they would more than likely need to fight tooth and nail just to stay alive, and if a little bit of homesickness could do someone in so easily, they wouldn't last a minute.
Frisk put the purse away and shifted in their seat. It was uncomfortable sitting around in plate armor for extended periods of time, but out here in the wilderness, one had best be prepared, as death could lurk around every corner.
So far, the strange duo had paid sellsword Frisk to protect them and escort them to... that accursed city, but only Chara had ever talked, and their exact mission was still unclear. Considering the place they were headed, their task needed to be more known and transparent. The initial payment had been more than enough to silence any questions any good blade-for-hire might have had, but they were getting close now.
Frisk drew breath in as they leaned forward in their seat"So" Frisk began "What is it exactly you're looking for?"
The robed monster tensed up even more but continued staring at the floor. Chara, on the other hand, fixed a steely gaze on the mercenary "None of your business, sellsword. You are paid to guide and protect us, not to ask questions" The young woman answered brusquely.
One might have figured they would respond as such. People of gentler virtues rarely had need of individuals with Frisk's skill-set. Nevertheless, it was a grating statement.
"If I am to provide the best service possible, I need to know what we will be walking into" They tried again, trying to sound as court as possible.
"No, all you need to know is that you're paid to fight and die to protect us, nothing more, nothing less" Chara replied in her still-hostile tone, her hand dropping tenuously close to her scabbard.
"You bought my service, not my life" Frisk countered.
"And what's your life worth then, mercenary?" Chara asked back
Their lips sneered in annoyance. Just before they could respond, a strange, low-pitched, noise occurred in the carriage. It took a moment for them to realize it was the monster whispering to Chara.
The feisty rogue turned to face her companion, surprising them with how quickly she could change her voice from combative to reassuring and caring
"Asriel I told you, leave the talking to me" Chara spoke to the monster.
"But it's alright! Really, I trust them, don't you?" Answered a light, friendly tone.
"You can't buy trust, Asriel"
"If you don't tell them, I will!" The one now identified as Asriel said as he banged his staff softly on the floor to get his point across.
"Uggh, fine" Chara conceded. She leaned forward in her seat and pulled back the sleeve on her right arm. To her left Asriel did the same.
The sight revealed to them wasn't an unfamiliar one, but surprising nonetheless. A direct sign of the times, something Frisk had seen too many good people cursed by.
They both had what looked like a circle burnt into their wrist, but what made these ones stand out was that the lines seemed to shimmer and fade, almost as if it was still burning.
The Darksign
Frisk leaned back in their seat. In a way, this revelation was as much a blessing as a curse. Branded people were, after all, almost impossible to kill for good, but it came at a much too steep price"So, you're both undead?" Frisk asked quietly.
Chara and Asriel both nodded slowly and solemnly.
They sighed. Despite them having lied to them, they couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy"I'm sorry to hear that... but what does that have to do with going to Arnvolt?" Frisk asked. They knew the ultimate fate of those branded by the Darksign was one far worse than death. To be denied their final rest and wander the earth a mindless hollow for all eternity, unable to die for good, drained of all hope, soul, and life.
And, as far as they knew, in order for The Darksign to appear on your body, you had to have died at least once.
Asriel's gloomy and depressed stance returned, and he once again turned to look at the floor.
"Where we're from, we're having an... outbreak, I guess you could call it" Chara quipped in, her voice slow and calculated"Every day the royal guard has to escort another one turned "hollow" to the castle dungeons "for their own safety"" Chara continued, sarcasm filling her last sentence.
Frisk raised an eyebrow. Tales of Darksign outbreak were becoming increasingly common these days, if there was a cure, surely it would have been found by now "And you're hoping to find a solution... in the most dangerous and cursed place in the land?" Frisk asked almost childishly, surely they could see that this was a fool's errand?
"Yes, as a matter of fact, we do" Chara retorted, annoyed "According to the Royal Sorcerer of Ebott, The Darksign draws upon the soul of the afflicted, and this place we're going to, Arnvolt, once committed great studies on the nature of the soul"
"That may very well be, but it's an abomination-infested ruin these days and has been for hundreds of years!" Frisk replied "No one who has entered has ever returned"
Asriel suddenly spoke up"Then we'll be the first" Frisk and Chara turned to look at him "Everyone back home is counting on us. We'll save them, I know we can do it!"
Frisk quickly butted in "Look, I'm not taking you into the city itself - it's a death sentence"
Chara scowled angrily "Mercenary dog! Then what exactly did we pay you for!?"
"I'll take you close, help you have a look around and then leave. We're not going to that place!"
"No deal, either you help us into the city, or we'll turn this carriage right around and head back, and then you can forget all about the other half of your payment!"
Frisk felt their anger rise, didn't these idiots understand they were just saving them from dying and going hollow even faster?
"Hey, I think we're here" Asriel said. The carriage slowed down beside an abandoned waystation. Asriel reached for the door knob, but Frisk's hand quickly shot out and grabbed his. The monster leapt back in his seat with a bleat. To his right Chara reached for her knife.
Frisk quickly held their other hand up.
"I mean no harm! But let me go first, there might be bandits about"
Asriel seemed satisfied, almost apologetic with the answer. Chara, on the other hand, continued her angry scowl, daring Frisk to make a move.
Slowly, they opened the door and scanned the surrounding area. Nothing to see, but that didn't mean there weren't anything hiding. Frisk reached back and grabbed their sword and shield.
Determined Blunt Sword
A rather plain looking sword, but the discerning eye will notice signs of the superior craftsmanship that went into the making of this blade. The blade itself had been intentionally blunted to near non-lethality.
This sword, while serving as an able weapon in combat is also, mysteriously, completely unable to break no matter how much pressure and force is applied.
Perhaps it is simply channeling the virtues of its owner?
Heart Kite Shield
A regular, if well-made kite shield emblazoned with a faded image of a beating heart.
The heart is a common motif in many royal crests and emblems, being a symbol of strength, courage, integrity, compassion and valor, and shields like these would usually be handed out to knights of the realm.
The weathered and battered look of this shield, however, would imply less-than-knightly dedication to maintenance.
Frisk stepped out of the carriage, sword and shield in hand and surveyed the area once more. Still no sign of any danger, but there were hints that the waystation had been recently occupied. A still-smouldering firepit here, a discarded flagon there, proof that the lost city of Arnvolt still attracted adventurers. But the city, rumored to devour the souls of all who entered, had yet to let anyone return.
From behind them, Frisk heard a yelp and a thump. They spun around, hand on hilt, and found Asriel, lying on the ground. He had tripped while exiting the carriage and had fallen muzzle-first to the ground. His staff rolled over to Frisk's feet.
Frisk sighed, this was going to be a problem. Already the robed monster was proving a liability. They crouched down to pick up the staff.
Royal Ebottian Staff
A finely crafted sorcery staff. The heraldic images and runes branded onto it would imply that staves such as these would only be used by royalty.
There is no religious pantheon in the kingdom of Ebott. As a consequence, their schools of magic have had to develop a unique brand of healing miracles powered by intelligence rather than faith.
The magical academy of Hotland was established for this specific purpose.
Frisk walked over to the carriage, where Chara was helping Asriel up. They reached out with the staff.
"I think you dropped something... your highness" Frisk said sarcastically.
Asriel's eyes went wide "Ho- how did you know!?" he asked, shocked and reached out for his staff with a trembling hand.
"Nevermind that, but I would have preferred to know I was escorting a... prince, is it?"
Asriel looked down, an expression of shame on his face "Yes... I'm sorry, but-"
Chara suddenly pulled Asriel to the side and got in between them. "Listen here, sellsword, we paid good money for your service. Whether he's a prince or not is not important!"
Frisk was getting really tired of these two and their secrets. "Of course it's important! Do you know how bad for business it would be if word got out that a prince died on my watch!?"
Chara's eyes grew cold "You'd really value your reputation over him?" she gestured to Asriel, standing by her side and looking at Frisk with sad eyes.
"Well, I-" Frisk tried.
"Then you better make sure you do your damn job!" She finished with a push to Frisk's shoulder, as she moved past them to a ridge overlooking the moorlands below. Asriel likewise made to follow her.
Frisk cursed inwardly. This was quickly becoming more trouble than it was worth, but they had taken the job and were thus professionally bound to see it trough.
The coach-driver that had carried them thus far coughed nervously, eyes fearfully scanning the horizon for any beasties. An emaciated, flea-ridden individual, he had nonetheless possessed the absolutely required combination of desperation and madness needed to transport people all the way out here. Nevertheless, he was clearly anxious to leave this accursed place.
Frisk moved up and undid two of the four horses moored to the front of coach, and leashed them to a railing standing up against an ancient, long-crumbled stone wall. The beasts themselves were almost as shriveled and starved as their owner, but Frisk had been assured they would be strong enough to carry them home, once their business here had concluded.
The coach-driver immediately brought the carriage around. His cackle a mix of madness and relief as he sped to the relative safety of Astora.
Chara looked over the vast expanse of wizened grass, gnarled trees and jagged rocks that littered the moor in-between them and their destination – the lost city of Arnvolt.
From here, she could just barely see the city walls, stretching for miles in either direction, and several spires and buildings jutting up behind it. A cathedral, perhaps the inner keep or a few noble residences.
She couldn't help but smile at the challenge in front of her. Her new life back in Ebott had been comfortable, to say the least, but also boring. Even with the Darksign causing havoc abroad, life in the quaint little kingdom remained mostly the same. That was until the first signs had appeared on their own populace. When the royal sorcerer had hinted a the possibility of a cure, she had leaped at the chance to repay her saviors. When she had been told it was certain death to go, she considered it a fair price to pay.
At her side, the monster-prince was far lest enthusiastic. Crossing the moorlands below them, and fortunately heading away, was a great herd of hollows. A shambling, moaning, tragic gathering of dregs. Even from here, he could see a few tokens of whatever previous lives they might have once lived. There was one with a tattered tabard, another one clutching a long-rusted sword and yet another seemed to wear what looked like an old chef's hat.
Hollows were to many still a mystery. They contained no souls within them, and thus were nothing more than ravenous beasts, hungering after what they could never again possess. Nevertheless, hollows rarely stayed in one place, and could regularly be found wandering, often in great groups. Perhaps even they recognized a fellow kinship in their shared curse? Or maybe some last semblance of memory drove them onwards to places they had known in life?
"So that is what happens to humans... once they lose hope?" Asriel asked out loud with a saddened voice.
Chara looked down at the mob with a grunt of disgust. "Yes, pathetic, isn't it?"
"It's sad" The monster replied.
"Don't say that, the dregs down there were probably nothing more than murderers, thieves and scum in life, well-deserving of this fate"
"Chara! No one deserves that!" The monster protested, looking hurt. "And neither do you... I mean, weren't you a-"
"I WAS, Asriel, but then again, I'm only human" Chara finished.
"You two ready to go?" Asked Frisk from behind them. Without looking back, Chara simply began to clamber down the cliff to the moorlands. The horde of hollows had passed and would not bother them as long as they kept their distance.
Only Asriel stayed back and flashed them a friendly smile.
"Please, don't think too ill of her" Implored the white-furred prince. "I know my sister can come off as bit... cold, but she has had a rough life and doesn't easily trust other humans"
Frisk raised a questioning eyebrow "Your "sister"?"
"Hah, yes, it is a... long story"
For the first time, Frisk got a good overall look and impression of the monster. About roughly the same height and size as themselves, he looked like any other young-adult human from a distance, but up closer the differences quickly became clear. The white fur was one thing, another was his long, drooping ears and muzzle, almost making him resemble a goat or a sheep. Even shadowed by his hood, his eyes shone with an emerald green, quite fitting the friendly smile he sported.
He was totally out of place in a realm as misbegotten as this one.
"If you say so" Frisk said. As they glanced over at the disappearing herd of hollows, a piece of the conversation they had overheard came to mind.
"Is this the first time you've seen human hollows?" They asked, trying to sound as indifferent as possible.
"No- I mean yes! Yes, it is" The prince answered flustered.
Frisk nodded. "So it's different for monsters? You don't turn into these... things?" Frisk asked, gesturing to the back of horde.
The prince turned to regard them as well. "No, we... what do you know about monsters, Frisk?"
"You have a small mountainous kingdom, well-versed in magic, I'm told" They answered nonchalantly.
"Hehe, yes, I suppose that is the gist of it, but there's more to it than that" The monster moved his right paw to his chest. "The Darksign is an affliction of the soul, but our souls are a bit different than humans. Yours contain almost everything you are, your personality, your memories, everything that makes you, well, you. When The Darksign takes that away..."
"We become, literally, hollow?"
"Yes. Monster souls, on the other hand, only contain hope, compassion, and mercy. When we hollow we... turn into flowers" The prince finished with a saddened sigh.
"Flowers?" Frisk asked, surprised.
"Indeed, we lose our bodies, our ability to love and feel loved, kindness becomes meaningless to us but unlike you, we don't lose our memories or intelligence. Most people try to hold onto that, the people they used to be, but inevitably, without hope, they give in, becoming cruel, malicious flowers"
From the way he was trembling, Frisk could tell that the prince was just barely keeping himself from choking up. "And you have an outbreak of this back in Ebott?"
He nodded "Yes, and it's why we are here. If there's a cure, then we... we will stop at nothing to find it!" The prince finished resolutely, for the first time actually sounding and looking confident.
"So that's it, huh?" Chara mused from behind Frisk, who was making up the vanguard of the trio.
"Arnvolt..."
The great wall of the fallen city reared up in front of them, easily a full 30 meters high. The group had stopped up in front of a large breach- the edges black with soot and the rubble, strangely enough lying in front of the wall as if the hole had been blasted from the inside.
"I suppose you'll want your payment then" spat the rogue, moving up to join Frisk. The sellsword, in turn, simply nodded; no monetary reward could ever be enough to make them go inside that cursed place.
…
If just these two idiots shared that sentiment.
They noticed the cloaked prince pointing and shaking his magical staff at a cluster of rubble, no doubt looking for residual magic or traps, all the while sporting a heartwarming, childlike look of wonder on his face.
"Why in the world would the king and queen ever send their softie of a son on a quest like this..." they muttered under their breath. In front of them, Chara made a guilty frown as they reached for the gold purse hanging on their belt.
That, in itself, was all the answer they needed.
"Wait, they don't know?" Frisk asked, louder this time.
The frown on the rogue's face deepened.
"Lords of Lordran! What were you thinking!? That this is some kind of "run-away from home" adventure!?"
"It's not like I could have stopped him, even if I wanted to!" Chara suddenly snapped back with venom, starring Frisk straight in the eyes.
"Are you two arguing again?" Asriel called and made to join them. The sellsword drew in a breath. "Listen, I know you mean well, but going into this place is a death sentence, which for you is far worse. I urge you to reconsider"
"We're not turning around and giving up now" came the immediate, stern answer from the monster. "If there's even the slightest chance of there being a cure in there, then we're going" followed the human rogue.
Frisk clenched their fists in frustration. In their line of work, learning to emotionally detach yourself from the people that paid you was crucial, and honestly, it was easier than one might think; most people in need of mercenaries were either criminal or of a highly morally ambiguous nature. But here were two people, full of purpose and willing to risk their very souls for their people on a quest that might very well prove futile.
Frisk had known them for less than a day, but still, imagining the rambunctious, lively rogue as a mere hollowed dregling, and the kind-hearted prince as a cruel little flower almost made the feel sad.
…
No, not almost.
The human, Chara, moved forward and reached out with the gold purse, a scowl on their face.
"I can't accept that" Frisk flatly stated.
Chara cocked her head to the side "Oh? Still think you can stop us from going?" She asked slyly.
Frisk reached up and softly batted the offered purse away. "No. I can't accept that because I haven't fulfilled my end of the bargain yet"
Chara's only answer was a steely gaze with those scarlet eyes of hers, something that was quickly becoming a trademark. Behind her, a hopeful smile blossomed on Asriel's face.
"I am duty bound to protect you against any threat you might face. If that requires me to follow you into Arnvolt..." They drew breath in, quietly frustrated at how easily they would throw caution to the wind, because of some silly emotions.
"Then so be it"
Chara raised a doubting eyebrow "You seemed quite unwilling to do so just a few minutes before"
"I changed my mind"
"Well, I, for one, am happy to have you with us" butted the chipper voice of the monster in.
Nevertheless, Chara stood her ground, arms crossed. Her eyes looking over Frisk, searching for any kind of doubt, any hint of an ulterior motive. Frisk bore her scrutiny with unflinching determination, matching the piercing glare of the scarlet-eyed rogue with an icy calmness.
"Uhhm, guys?" Asriel said nervously.
"Fine" Chara finally relented after a few more seconds. Turning to point at the breach in the wall. "After you then, oh,"great duty bound one"" she said with thinly veiled scorn.
Without deigning to answer, Frisk immediately moved to the great, yawning breach. Despite the light of midday, the interior of the wall beyond the breach was completely shrouded in thick darkness.
They heard the shuffling of feet as their two charges stopped up behind them.
This was so stupid, so supremely foolish. Countless of adventurers made of sterner stock than themselves had marched into these ruins, never to be heard from again. Every instinct screamed at them to turn around. But deep inside, a voice, quiet yet somehow more audible than the rest told them that this was the right thing to do.
Throwing away the last semblance of reason and caution garnered from countless battles, they stepped inside.
And so it was that six feet entered the cursed city of Arnvolt. The feet of the determined, the bold and the valiant.
As fate would have it, only two would ever leave again.
Well hey! Congratulations on making it trough this unholy mashup!
Please, feel free to leave a comment as to what you think so far :)