Her pulse sped up. She saw the knight roll, and come up behind the swirling black mass. It quickly swung a large extremity, and sent the knight flying backwards, tumbling off the roof top.
She aimed her crossbow, and fired.
A terrifying screech ignited the air, and the pulsing mass jerked its body around, setting its red gaze upon her. She quickly loaded another bolt, and fired; her arms starting to tremble.
It picked up its pace; the swirling black mass twitched, as violent, hellish growls emanated from the center. She dropped her bow and slammed her back against the stone wall behind her.
Her eyes closed, as she tilted her head to the side. She was going to die. She couldn't look. She didn't want to watch.
She felt the large mass looming in front of her. Sounds of a sickening gurgle surrounded her, and the air became damp. Her body shook, as she felt the grotesque blackness push closer.
The sheen of a sword was heard, followed by a stomach-churning slice. Cold slime was flung all over the front of her body, and she sobbed, curling in on herself, wrenching her eyes even tighter. The monstrosity wailed, causing her to cover her ears to keep her eardrums from shattering. All she could hear anymore was the rapid beating of her heart. Fear overwhelmed her, and she was too frightened to open her eyes. She had accepted her death.
She felt two hands, slowly snake their way around her wrists, and gently tug, indicating her to remove them. Her eyes opened wide.
It was the knight.
Her eyes dashed around, taking in the environment. Behind him laid the crumpled form of the hellish black mass; black oozed seeped out, pooling onto the stone below.
She looked down. She was covered in the same fluid. Her stomach retched, and she openly gagged, pushing his hands away, and crawling to the side. She yanked her face covering down, attempting to throw up, but only dry heaving.
She felt the slime that coated around her eyes, and dug through her packs, looking for cloth…anything. She jerked her gloves off, and used her hands, wiping the ooze across the stone, repeating the process.
She rocked back on her heels, staying on her knees on the cold ground. She started to shake again, as hot tears streamed out. It was all overwhelming, and she felt as though her sanity was slipping.
A bright, gloved hand appeared in her peripheral view, and found its way on her shoulder blade. She reached up with her naked hand, and gave the cold metal a squeeze.
"Thank you."
The metal glove carefully twisted, slipping their fingers under her palm. Their thumb rubbed across her knuckles.
She looked up; her face adorned with streaks of black slime, soot, and tears. Some of her dark, red hair had become loose. The knight pulled, and she found herself on her feet.
"Man of Pus. I was, perhaps, too eager in my exploits."
It was a man's voice. His accent was similar to those in the shrine, yet slightly different. He held her hand, and reached forward with the other, cupping the leather underside over her right cheek. His thumb did a sweep under her eye, and she felt as though something crusted had been removed.
"Once you use the bonfire, this will disappear. Did you bring your estus flask?
Her eyebrows furrowed. An estus flask? Her head slowly shook.
He chuckled, warmly. She could make nothing of what was underneath the helm. The visor shrouded all features into shadow, allowing only the man underneath to peer outwards.
His hand tucked some of her hair behind her ear, as her hood fell back. Tangled, red hair spilled out behind her.
"We may need to bind that." He removed both his hands, stepping back. "Your features…they are, unique. Where are you from?"
She looked down at her grim covered hands. Was she deformed? Did she carry scars?
"What marks me as different?"
He chuckled again. He turned, swiping her crossbow off the ground. "You speak…differently. Yet, Lothric is a strange land, inhabited by even stranger things. It is of no great concern."
Lothric. So, this was where she was? The name had no familiarity to her, what so ever. She looked back at the, still bleeding, mass in front of them.
"This is a nightmare. I keep expecting to wake up, but the question is…where?"
He was fiddling with her weapon. He removed his gloves, and long, slender hands came into view. The skin was calloused, scarred.
"There was no estus flask buried with you?"
She thought back on where she had awoken. The stone tomb. She had never looked back inside, too relieved to be freed.
"How…did you…know?"
Something clicked on her crossbow, as his hands pulled a piece into place.
"Simple. I found you."
She padded the front of her slime encrusted clothing, as her cheeks reddened. Why was she suddenly embarrassed? Her deformities were more of a curiosity, no doubt. Perhaps the rest if her body was marked as well?
He turned around, handing her the crossbow. She took it, looking it over. She was unsure what he had done. His ungloved hand found its way to her cheek, again, and he ran a thumb across the bone.
"I fixed your sight. It should fire more accurately now."
"Thank…you." She stepped away from his touch, and turned around, placing the crossbow on the ground. She busied herself with covering her face back up. It was something she should remember when meeting new people. Her deformities were probably best kept hidden.
Turning to face the knight, she found him staring at her, patiently waiting.
"You have come this far, but I feel it would be unkind to part at this point. I ask, would you be willing to travel as my companion for a little further?"
Her smile was hidden underneath the cloth, but she nodded in agreement. Since she lacked a purpose, her current goal mattered not.
"Wonderful! My name is Randull the Yellow." He bowed, respectfully in front of her. "I originally hail from a land far from here, as well as from a time prior to this. I am afraid I had been dead for quite some time, before being awoken as Unkindled."
Her eyes twinkled, as she tilted her head, taking in the grandiose introduction of her new companion.
His arm outstretched towards her. "And you, my lady, where do thou hail from?"
She frowned, as her eyes glanced to the side. "I'm sorry, but I do not know. I merely awoke here."
He straightened his posture. "Ah, well that is of no concern. The past matters not, but it is the future that further defines us. You appear to be of a good sort, and that speaks wonders of your character. Do you have a name?"
She shook her head.
"Why that simply will not do." He looked at her, noticing the dark red that was inching its way out from under her cowl. "Scarlet."
She tilted her head, then slowly nodded in agreement. Honestly, she did not care what she was called, as long as it wasn't "little mouse".
"Well, my dear companion, I dare say it is time for us to be off, do you not agree?" She nodded, silently again, and he chuckled. He stepped back onto the slanted roof top where the massive black creature had originated. Other people were scattered over the tiles, dead.
"What happened to these people? Why are they so sickly?"
"These are hollowed. They are undead, marked with the dark sign. I have not, exactly, figured out what they are doing here."
They came to a ladder, and she watched as he proceeded to descend. A hollowed archer saw him in the distance, and loaded up their crossbow, aiming at Randull's unsuspecting form. A bolt flew through its eye, and it fell back to the ground. Randull looked at the dead hollow below, then slowly lifted his head up to his new companion above. She was lowering her crossbow.
"Scarlet, I think you and I are going to become great friends."
Her smile was hidden, but was as big as it could get. "I believe, you adjusting my target, has helped."
He chuckled, and continued moving down the ladder. He unhooked his shield, unsheathing his sword from his left hip. He glanced around the doorframe of the building then just scaled down. Towards the back of the room, he saw the lumbering form of a Lothric Knight, still roaming the abandoned halls. To the left was another doorway, leading to a side room. His instincts screamed: ambush.
He felt her presence behind him, and he turned, facing her, leaning in.
"We will be ambushed from the left. I want you to focus on anything you see in the distance, and let me handle up close. Ready?"
She nodded, enthusiastically. This was exciting. She felt her adrenaline kick in, as her pulse quicken. She loaded a bolt, and waited for his signal.
He lowered his hand, and they slipped to the side as the large knight in the distance turned its back. Running into the side room, she immediately saw the hollow in the back, and fired a precise headshot. Randull had two on him to the left, and he lifted his shield, blocking a blow, while pushing forward. The impact caused them to stagger, and he swiped across with his sword, severing their torsos.
After they had cleared the left room, she walked up to him. He had been staring at one of the corpses, for quite some time. He knelt by the corpse, rummaging through one of its pockets. A bright, wispy item appeared in his gloved hand. He turned to her.
"A soul. I am thinking how we should split these."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Soul? That's…not possible. Souls are not tangible."
He grabbed her hand, turning her palm over, as he deposited the dim glowing object.
"See. Tangible. It is yours, I have decided." He reached up, nicking her cloth covered chin, and walked out of the room.
She held the glowing crystal in her hand. It was jagged and uneven. The glowing would fade in and out from the center. She did not know what to do with it, so she felt for a travel bag on her right hip, putting it in there for now. Hopefully, it was not fragile.
The pushed forward, applying the same strategy as before: she would handle the far away, and he would take care of the up close. They found themselves overlooking a large dining hall. Many, large wooden tables covered the middle, while barrels of goods were stacked against the walls. Scarlet's eyes picked up a blackened smear near one of the wooden crates.
Gunpowder. How she knew that, she did not know. However, she did remember the most important thing. Fire + Gunpowder =…
"Boom."
Randull looked at her, his expression hidden by his visor. "Boom?"
She nodded towards the crate on the far end of the room. "Remember that bomb you found off the hollow upstairs?"
He turned, squinting his eyes. He looked back at her. "Boom."
She put her hand over her covered mouth, as she suppressed a giggle.
They patiently watch, noticing the movements of the extremely aggressive, and strong, hollows that wandered the lower level. Randull counted to ten, lighting the bomb, then pulling Scarlet back with him into the shadows. It rolled to the crate, a couple of dogs running over to sniff at the new intrusion.
The explosion rocked the walls, and splinters of wood shot out in all directions. They were on a small outcrop from a middle level, hidden behind a jut in the wall. They were pressed up against each other, hidden in the shadows, when the carcass of an undead dog landed right in front of them.
Scarlet pushed herself back as far as she could, as the smoldering dog started to give off a horribly putrid smell. She put her hand over her gloved mouth, trying to keep from gagging. She looked at Randull. He was leaning to the side, trying to hold his breath.
The blast had managed to incinerate two-thirds of the room. She fired another bolt, hitting her mark on a rather large hollow towards the back. Slowly, they picked them off, one at a time. She stood confidently in the middle of the room, impressed they had manage to make it this far.
"Hey, come help me with this chest."
She jogged over to a small set of steps that led down. It was a low point in the floor, a temporary "cellar", to keep some items cooler. Up against the back wall was a brown chest.
He motioned his hand towards it. "I am going to hit it with my sword. Be ready?"
She looked at him like he was insane, but she gripped her crossbow, loading a bolt, and aimed at the wooden chest. Randull raised his sword, performing a powerful down thrust.
It stuck in the wood. She lowered her crossbow, putting her hand on her hip.
"Is this going to happen a lot?"
"I swear! Back before the last bonfire, one of these bastards tried to eat me!"
Her eyes narrowed, as she shook her head. It took him three attempts to dislodge his sword from the lid, as she continued to watch him, trying to muffle her laughter. A snort slipped out, and his head snapped to her.
"Please, my lady, go right ahead." He stomped off.
She knelt in front of it, grunting a bit to push the damaged lid up. Looking in, she saw a small item at the bottom, and reached for it, bringing it up to her face.
"A key?" She turned to him, her eyes questioning.
"Let me see that." He leaned over, snatching it, and lifting it up in the light. He looked at her.
"How do you feel about thieves…"
[-]
Scarlet had Randull's arm draped over her shoulder and neck, as she dragged him along the back corridor. One of the hollows had ambushed them with fire bombs, catching Randull by surprise, and sending him colliding into a weapon rack behind them, impaling himself on a spear. Scarlet's bolt was simply a few seconds too late.
She glanced behind her, as she breathed heavy, supporting most his weight. A substantial amount of blood trailed behind them. They would need to get to a bonfire soon, however, she would be unable to pull him up the ladder they descended.
She saw the jail cell he had been so adamant about finding. Her companion's breathing was becoming raspy, as he pressed against the gaping hole from where the spear had punctured through his shoulder.
They reached the bottom, and she propped him up against the stone wall. She crouched down, falling forward on her knees, as she attempted to look at his wound in greater detail. Her dark, auburn hair pooled out, some of it streaked with sweat.
She took her gloves off, and pried at his armor. Her eyes were panicked. What would she do if he died? He had been her only companion…he had even named her. Tears started to swell, and a sob accidently fell out of her mouth.
A gloved hand wearily lifted towards her face, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. "Didn't I say we should bind this?"
"Randull, I don't know how to fix you." Tears were streaming down her cheeks, soaking the facial covering.
He chuckled. "Ah, yes, you have not experienced this 'gift' of ours yet, my fellow unkindled. It does warm my heart though, to know you are already this attached to me." He nicked her chin, as he coughed. She saw a little bit of blood trickle from his visor.
His body began to glow, as sections started to burn away, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. He reached for her, grabbing her shoulder, as his hand slowly disintegrating into nothing.
"Wait for me here…"
She blinked, and he was gone. A breeze blew the left-over ash along the tile floor, some of it stinging her eyes. He was gone.
"Hello?"
A voice came from her left. She rose to her feet, and headed towards the man behind the prison bars. He was crouched in the corner, with some sort of bag over his head, and cruel looking collar, locking it into place. Was he criminal? What had he done to deserve this? She kept her distance, her mind still trying to cope with Randull's death.
"Ahh, you're no jailer, are you?"
She shook her head to the side, looking at him confused. She felt for the key in her pocket, pulling it out, as she looked at in the dim light. Slowly, she walked to the prison bars, putting the key into the socket, and turning.
It clicked. The man stood up, still hunched over, and walked towards her, his hands spread in a form of gratitude. He leaned in close to her, looking her up and down, and from the side. All she could see was two shadowed eyes, staring closely at her from behind the sack hood. She turned her head to the side, covering her eyes with her hand; was it her deformities, again?
"No, no, you're from far away. And judging by the bell...you must be some of that unkindled ash. Remarkable, if that's true, then I have a favor to ask. Below the High Wall is a musty little town. Not the home of any lord, just a very old settlement of Undead. An old woman, Loretta, lives there. Please give her this ring."
He handed her a beautiful blue sapphire ring. The large gem caught the little bit of sunlight that came in through the small, prison window. She nodded, and reached for her satchel, dropping it in next to the crystalized "soul".
"I- I am not asking for charity. In fa- in fact if you do this for me... I'll be sure to repay you in kind. I-I may be a petty thief, but I've more wits than most royalty. What do you say, then?"
"Of course, I will do my best to find her."
He clapped his hands together.
"Very well. I humbly place my faith in you. I am Greirat of the Undead Settlement, and I promise to assist you. Give this ring to old Loretta at the base of the High Wall. Do your part, and I'll do mine."
He scurried past her, disappearing over the side edge of the stone wall. She ran up, looking down, seeing nothing but fog below. She heard the clank of metal, and snapped her head to the left.
Randull was standing on top of the small stairwell, his arms crossed. Her eyes narrowed, and she noticed the hole in his armor was gone. It was as if none of it happened…
Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked at him confused, as he jogged down the stairs towards her. He took a right, heading back to the spot where he had disintegrated. He sifted through the ash pile, and pulled out something akin the crystal soul that was in her pocket. He stood up and crushed the object in his hand. A small, hazy light washed over him, and he sighed, relieved.
He looked over at the small prison, noticing the unlocked door, as well as the man's absence. He turned towards her, his visor still hiding any emotion.
"Make a new friend?"