"My dear, would thou be so kind as to come near?"

Scarlet looked up, noticing a decrepit, burnt man on one of the large, stone thrones. She shook her head, glancing around. How had she never noticed him before…

"Fret not, fret not. My feet are here firmly planted. For I am a Lord, and this is my throne."

She jerked her head around, trying to locate Randull. He had dipped off into the lower section of the shrine, no doubt, speaking with that ghoulish looking man with the turtle shell on his back. She never pried as to the content on their discussions, as she preferred to keep an ignorant outlook to whatever situation may arise. She attributed her weariness to that of intuition.

She slowly ascended the stone steps to the left, curving up behind the grotesque throne, and coming to the one with the burnt, old man. She hopped down, walking around the throne edge, coming face to face with the small figure with a crown on his head.

He leaned a little forward, looking over her form. "Oh, thou'rt unkindled, and a seeker of Lords. I am Ludleth of Courland. Look not in bewilderment as I say…I linked the fire long ago, becoming a Lord of Cinder. If substantiation be thy want, set thine eyes upon my charred corpse. This sad cadaver. No need to be coy, have a closer look."

She moved from side to side, taking a glance at him from different angles. He tilted his head for her, a crusted smile forming on his charred lips.

"Are you in pain?"

He chuckled. "No, child. The pain has long died." He looked at her satchel. "Thou'st come into possession of a rare artifact, perhaps?"

She noticed where his eyes were directed, and reached in her satchel, feeling around at the contents. She felt the coldness of the dark, crystal globe, and took it out.

"Oh, belike it is… a transposing kiln in thy possession. Seen better days, but, methinks it shall suffice. Listen, this might pique thine interest. Before I was a Lord of Cinder, I was a student of transposition. The process of extracting, and coalescing the essence of a soul. A forbidden art, that once left a foul stain upon Courland's honor. Tis an art that grants powers once thought unattainable. Most transposing kilns were lost with Courland, yet thou'st have exceeded the impossible, as such."

He gave her a cracked smile, reaching out to take possession of the transposition kiln. She carefully placed it in his tiny, black hand, lingering for a few seconds until he pulled it safely back into his lap.

"Now bring me a twisted soul. In transposing a twisted soul, its true power transfer to thee. Thy purpose is to seek Lords, and slay them. What's to fear in a little transposition, now?"

He chuckled, his eyes glancing to hers, reminding her of a look that a grandfather may give his grandchildren. She couldn't help but grin back, underneath the cloth that covered her face. She saw the old man glance upwards, then back to her.

"Thou has another who is keen on conversing, its seems. Now, now, do not be away overlong." He shooed her way with a tiny, blackened hand, giving her a dismissing grin. She bowed, walking back to the small ledge she climbed down. She would need to heave herself up. Looking down at the stone, she positioned her feet on a small crevice and began to pull.

A gloved hand came into her view and she glanced up. It was the masked rogue.

"Does the lady need some assistance?"

She stared at his hand, shaking her head in very subtle, shy movements. He crouched, coming nearer to her face. His hand moved, running down the length of some red locks that dislodged themselves from her binding.

"I am afraid you misunderstand my intentions towards you, little mouse."

"I'm positive she understands them completely, Leonhard."

She swerved her head, seeing Randull standing behind the rogue, his hand resting on the top of his sword hilt, as he stared down on the two below him.

Leonhard chuckled, standing up and slowly beginning to ascend the steps, away from them. "As you wish, Unkindled…"

He kept his gaze on the Ringfinger, until he disappeared back into the shadows of where he came. Randull knelt, offering Scarlet his hand. She grabbed it, allowing him to pull her up. She dusted herself off, looking up at the knight.

"Do you still have any of those souls we obtained? The large ones? I think Ludleth can change them into an item, maybe? I am not sure entirely sure. He mentioned something about transferring power. It may be worth a try."

She saw Randull's head move around a few times, and heard a small sucking noise of air through teeth.

"Yeah…I sort of…used them, already."

Her eyes narrowed, and she stuck out her hand. "Give me the rest."

"I sort of…used those too."

She put her hand on her hip. "I am not entirely seeing how our partnership benefits me, in the least."

He slapped her back. "You get the best company that Lothric can offer, my friend!"

She shook her head, walking next to him, as they descended the stairs. The Firekeeper was waiting at the basin. Her posture was straight, and her small, perfect hands were folded in front of her. Her long, twisted blonde hair slightly fluttered in the small drafts that danced through the ancient shrine.

"Ashen one, may I speak to thee?"

Scarlet sighed. While she had come to terms with her arrangement and place, she did not enjoy having it rubbed in her face. She touched Randull's arm. "I'll be upstairs. I want to go see what's at the top of the shrine. I'll be careful, or you'll see me revive there." She pointed to the bonfire.

He chuckled, nodding, as he stepped towards the porcelain doll, taking her hands in his.

She hurried up the steps. The constant traveling had increased her stamina, and she found herself to be barely out of breath after a few flights. Stepping out into the open area, she noted the large, human-shaped, tree to the right. A few more strides, and she came across the locked gate, leading into a decrepit tower, which connected to the shrine, proper.

She yanked on the gate, trying to get it to budge. Nothing. To the left, she saw a ladder, still intact but not to connect to the ground, not just yet. She picked up a rock, throwing it at the latched mechanism which held the bottom part of the ladder up. Her aim was awful, and she ended up hitting the wall at an angle which caused the rock to ricochet back at her.

A gloved hand snapped into her vision before she could flinch, catching the rock. Her eyes blinked, looking to the right. He let it fall, his gaze on her intense. He stepped forward, moving his hand under her covered chin, nicking it.

"What fool leaves such beautiful prey to their own devices?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It is cruel to mock a person to their face."

She saw his animated blue eyes behind the silver mask. He seemed to enjoy their brief, and sporadic, rendezvous. Even with the looming threat of Randull, he could not stay away.

"My lady, I only mock those who deserve such. Your companion qualifies as such. You, however…" He moved in closer, his hand moving towards her face, twirled a strand of her red hair, once again. "I would gladly kill any who mock you."

His hand moved to the small clip that held her cloth over her face. He brushed a gloved thumb across her cheek, as he went to unlatch it. She shook her head, snapping back to reality, grabbing his wrist.

"No, please…"

She backed away, as she started to hurry towards the entrance to the shrine. She found herself sprinting down the steps. A clink was heard, and she looked up to see Randull turning away from the Firekeeper, his hand still hovering over his recently closed visor.

"Are you okay, Scarlet?"

She glanced up, seeing the rogue back in his usual position. His gaze was elsewhere, and for that, she was relieved.

"Yeah…I…let me see if Greirat is back."

[-]

The ominous, silver mask shimmered in the torch light.

"Oh my…Greirat, this is…what is it?"

The mask had a frown carved into it, and larger, slanted eye openings. It appeared feminine, yet it reminded her of an older woman. A large band with varying lobes spread out near the top. Fine etching adorned its surface, making swirling patterns which added to the elegance of the piece.

"The mask of the mother. Do not ask where this was found, or how I came to possess it, but it is rare, I assure you." He stuck it out towards her, offering her the mask. "Please, try it on!"

She carefully gripped the edges, pulling it to her. A low shimmer rippled across the surface.

"It's enchanted. Bu…but, I don't know with what. Hehe."

He nervously rocked on his heels. It had taken some skill to slip this from the Darkwraith in the depths of the outskirts of Lothric. However, it had given him that rush of adrenaline, that he had almost forgotten about as he rotted in his prison cell. It was addicting…it made him feel alive.

She carefully removed her cloth covering, turning her head from him. The mask slipped over, possessing a sort of cloth hood that helped keep it attached to her head. She pulled her cowl back, stopping before the protruding lobes of the mask. It held into place, and her vision was well enough. A sudden, invigorating rush spread through her nervous system, and she gasped from the sensation. She felt…thicker.

"Does the lady like, yes?"

She reached out, grabbing the thief's hands. "I love it, Greirat. Thank you so much, what do I owe you?"

His hands darted out, as he grabbed her satchel, before she could even realize what had happened. He started sifting through the contents and pulled out a large soul.

"Th…th…this will do. Heh."

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her satchel from him, and placing it back on her belt. He crushed the soul in his eyes, letting the contents wash over his form.

"Pleasure doing business. Come back…and take care!"

[-]

"That guy seems like an asshole."

Randull continued walking forward towards the entrance to a tower ahead. Although it was impossible to see to the top, he was positive this is where the giant resided. He had met more than one death to its large, well placed arrows. They were nearly done with the Undead Settlement, and he couldn't have been gladder. The most recent conversation with two new travelers, Eygon and Irina of Carim, had proven to be tiring. The male garbed in black, heavy armor, to be exact.

"How is he similar to a hole where refuse comes out of a body?"

She stopped, thinking on his question a bit. "He's unpleasant in all contexts."

He hummed in agreement. "That seems to be an accurate description then. Yes, Eygon is an asshole. In fact, I may apply that word to others."

"Does a certain rogue come into mind?" Her voice portrayed the sly grin that formed on her mouth.

"Now that you mention it…"

"Why do you dislike him so much?"

Randull stopped, looking at the large doors in front of him. "He's arrogant and cunning, for one. Mostly, though, I detest invading. It's immoral."

She looked at him confused. "I am unsure if I understand what 'invading' actually eludes to."

"Good. No need to involve yourself with it."

He leaned forward, pushing on the doors, as they squeaked in defiance of being opened. She peaked past his shoulder, her crossbow loaded and ready, as she scanned the area. An elevator was visible at the end of the corridor. Her sight closed in on a large, figure…of sorts.

"There's something by the elevator. Maybe a man? The armor is odd."

He leaned up, straightening his posture, squinting his eyes a bit to see. He recognized the telltale signs of his neighboring country.

"Ahoy! What news do you bring from Catarina, my friend?!"

The figure continued to look towards the elevator, unaware to their presence.

"Hmm...mmmmmm...hmm...mmm..." The strange person appeared to be lost in thought. Their large, turnip shaped helmet finally turned towards them.

"Oh! Pardon me, I was absorbed in thought. I am Siegward of Catarina." He waived, motioning us over. Across his shoulders was a large, two-handed sword. Scarlet doubted that the body underneath matched the oversized and ridiculously round armor he donned.

"To be honest, I'm in a bit of a pickle. Have you ever walked near a white birch, only to be struck by a great arrow? Well, if I'm not mistaken, they come from this tower. Whoever it is, I'm sure I can talk some sense into them."

He pointed up, with one of his large hands. His metal armor clinked, creating much noise in the large, empty elevator shaft of the tower.

"But I have to find a way up, and that's just the trouble. This lift only goes down, you see, and...well, that doesn't get me anywhere... Hmm... mmm..."

Siegward went back to staring at the elevator, trying to deduce how to access the upper portion of the tower. Scarlet swung her crossbow over her shoulder, as Randull tested the elevator. He stepped on the raised tile in the middle, allowing the wooden platform to either rise or fall. When it was raised, a second platform would appear from the depths below.

After a few failed attempts, they found themselves quickly ascending to the top of the tower. The rush of the stagnant air flew past her, causing her cowl to flutter. Siegward had insisted they head up first. Either as a courtesy, or merely to see how aggressive the giant was. They reached the top, ascending another flight of spiraling stairs, that wrapped around the outer edges.

The wind blew in her face, and she grabbed her hood, making sure it stayed, as a view of the entire settlement was laid before them. To the right, the large giant stood, his make-shift bow in hand.

"Who are you?" His deep, broken voice rang out. Randull pushed ahead, bowing.

"Randull the Yellow. Beside me is Scarlet. We come in peace, my friend."

The giant hummed, in agreement. He bent down, a large pop echoing in the tower below, as his back creaked. His large hands rummaged through a pile of items on the side. Eventually, some white branches emerged. He dropped them in front of Randull.

"I help anytime."

She bent down, looking at the larger twigs before them. She glanced to Randull, shrugging her shoulders. He motioned to pick them up, and moments later she found herself back on the elevator, her arms full of wooden twigs, with no clue where they were going to put them. Half way down the elevator ride, she saw Siegward wave at them, as he stood on a partially constructed platform.

They reached the main floor, and she stepped to the side, discarding the twigs. Randull stared back at the elevator, no doubt, contemplating if, and how, they would follow their round friend. Silence pervaded them, and her mind began to wonder back to the two individuals they met, not far from the tower itself. "Why is Irina imprisoned? Do you think we can get her out?"

He sighed. He did not want to get involved with those two, but he did feel sorry for the blind girl. Her "guardian" sure wasn't in a hurry to help her situation.

"I am unsure for the reason of her imprisonment. She is blind, and was being groomed to serve as a Firekeeper. For who, or when…I do not know." He turned, looking, once again, at the place he was anxious to leave. "I believe the hand maiden back at the shine…she sells a key…to a cell. It would still be quite a distance before we reached Irina."

He looked back to Scarlet. The hideous mask she wore hid all emotions. He did not understand why she was insistent on covering her face, but he was starting to understand her frustration in dealing with himself. You could never get a decent feel for the other person's thoughts or feelings. There was much to be said for facial expressions.

She stepped closer to him, grabbing his arm. "Please Randull, I don't want to leave her there. No one should suffer that fate. Here…" She dug in her satchel, pulling out a few small crystalized chucks of souls. It would barely buy her the bolts she had used during their last escapade. "Take mine, for the key."

He groaned, pushing her hand back. He needed to start letting her have more souls. She was becoming too weak for the newer situations and violent denizens they stumbled upon. In fact, he could not remember the last time she allowed the Firekeeper to bolster her resolve.

He cringed, recognizing his selfishness, as guilt washed over him. "Okay, I promise we'll come get her. However, I am quite intrigued by our recent acquaintance from Catarina. I believe it would pay off to follow him. I tell you what, we follow Siegward first, and then we'll free Irina. Do you agree to those terms?"

She squeezed his arm in approval, although he could not feel it through his armor. Nodding, he tugged her along with him back onto the elevator.

[-]

"A fire demon was not part of the terms, Randull!"

Scarlet ducked behind one of the abandoned buildings, as a blast of fire came barreling her way. She patted her cowl, extinguishing any of the small flames that caught alight on the thick material. She groaned, irritated.

"Can't hear you!" Randull dodged, attempting to roll out of the way of the massive, stone-like axe the demon used as a weapon. He miscalculated, and ended up catching the back end of the swing, sending him crashing into a pile of wooden crates, twenty feet away.

She snickered, firing off another bolt, hitting it in one of the hands that gripped the two-handed axe. The demon roared, fire immediately shooting out in all directions around it.

"For Catarina!"

Siegward came rushing in, wielding his large great sword, taking a swipe at the feet of the demon. It swirled, enraged, reading to smash the jolly, round man into a pulp. Scarlet fire a few more bolts, each time hitting its sensitive hands, causing it to drop the massive weapon. Randull had recovered, coming back in with a large thrust at its other foot.

This tactic worked. Siegward and Randull would swipe at its feet, and Scarlet would manage its motility from above. Towards the end, the large demon finally let loose a cry of defeat, and crumbled over, shaking the ground in a large thud, as all three of them had to balance themselves from the shock waves. Swirls of ash and fire whipped around them, until nothing was left except for a brightly flickering red soul, and the massive, stone weapon.

Siegward sat down, breathing heavily.

"That was quite the performance. But you musn't get in over your head. We Unkindled must put our duties first. But for the moment, we've a toast to make." He produced an ale cup, unhooking it from a strap around his ridiculously round armor. Snapping the lid off, he held it high. "To your valour, my sword, and our victory together."

He looked between her and him. "Oh dear, it appears you do not have your own Siegbrau. That will not do…" She heard clinking, as he fussed with his armor, accessing a small compartment, of sorts, on the side. He produced two more, sealed cups with handles. He leaned forward, handing them both each. Reaching his hand up, he proceeded with his toast, as he took his massive helmet off. A jovial, tanner face, with rosy cheeks came into view, adorned with a pencil mustache.

"Long may the Sun shine!" He lifted his head back, downing the entire contents. Scarlet looked at her drink, and carefully unlatched the lid. A strong wave of alcohol slapped her in the face, and she squinted her eyes, downing a mouthful out of courtesy. Grimacing, she swallowed the bitter contents in one gulp.

She looked over to Randull. He was turned away from her, his visor up, drinking the entire cup. Her eyes glanced back at Siegward, who had put his helmet back on.

"Well, I'm going to have myself a little nap. The only thing to do, really, after a nice toast." He laughed, and she watched as his head slowly dipped. Moments later, light snoring could be heard from the round figure.

She felt Randull walk up next to her, padding her back. "Good job, my friend. Not sure what I would do without you." She smelled the alcohol rolling off his breath.

Her head slowly turned to the right, her voice full of dry sarcasm. "Nothing. You would be doing nothing, because you would be dead."

He laughed. "Come on, I think you deserve this soul…"