Yorke awoke with a start. His eyes snapped open then immediately shut again as he realised just how bright it was. He quickly regretted the sudden movement and gasped, clutching his side. The fight with the Black Knights came back to him, and he suddenly felt a little less bad about the pain. It meant he was alive and that was a very wonderful thing to be.
The aching of his eyes had died down enough now to try and open them again. Slowly his eyelids rose, and he was able to take in his surroundings. Still in the asylum, specifically next to the bonfire in the courtyard where Oscar had been laying not long ago. Speaking of Oscar...
"You're awake! Thank the gods," the Astoran knight said as he approached, his heavy boots crunching the grass. It's funny how you only really noticed sounds like that after you've nearly died. Yorke slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, careful to not strain any of his muscles or anything.
"You bet I am, awake and alive!" he grinned. "How long have I been out?" Oscar glanced up for a moment, his mouth working silently whilst he cycled through his fingers.
"I'd say half, two thirds of a day? Something like that."
"Really? That long? Damn, I guess that fight really drained me," York commented, before a wide smile spread across his face. "Oh my gosh, I totally killed a demon-thing like twice my size, and dropped a rock on another. I'm a total badass!" he exclaimed joyfully. Oscar shook his head at that, but couldn't conceal his smile. He found Yorke's enthusiasm refreshing, especially considering where they were.
"That you are, my friend. I'm not sure I would've been able to defeat that one without you and Snuggly's timely intervention. That's twice you two have saved me," he replied. "And while this can't even come close to what you've given me, I hope you'll accept this token of my gratitude." At that, Oscar picked up the intricately carved shield of the Black Knight he had killed and held it towards him.
Yorke just stared at it, his jaw hanging open. He looked up at Oscar who nodded back. "Every hero needs a good shield, particularly considering where we are going" he said simply. Yorke carefully took the shield from his friend's hands, surprised by how light it was compared to what he'd expected. It was still heavy as shit, but not quite as bad as he'd imagined.
"Thanks, Oscar. I really appreciate it."
"Don't mention it, my friend. Do you think you're able to stand?" York experimentally shifted his weight forward. When he didn't feel anything more than a dull ache he took Oscar's hand and stood up with some effort. He still felt awful but he wasn't broken.
"I'm good, just... let's not do any running, okay?" Suddenly Yorke realised that his immediate vicinity lacked a certain talking bird. "Hey, where's Snuggly?"
"You know, I'm not sure. After she watched me take you to the bonfire and made sure you were breathing she took off back into the asylum. I think she said that she was fetching something." That was fair enough, Snuggly was probably making sure she had everything she deemed important enough to take with her. Something Yorke decided that he should probably be doing the same.
"Hey Oscar, I think I'm gonna head over to my cell for a minute and grab a few things. You want to come?" Yorke asked, half turned towards the passageway that lead back to his block.
"No, that's alright. I think I'll do one last round up here and make sure there isn't anybody still trapped, or anything we might find useful." Yorke nodded before heading through the passageway, still limping every few steps.
It didn't take him long to retrace the path he'd travelled so many times before; left at the headless statue, right next to the mossy rock shaped like a hat, hop over the stream which ran through the entire asylum for some reason and then it was a straight hallway.
Yorke stepped around the hollow outside his cell who stopped wailing when he walked past. He watched as the undead carefully raised a hand, and poked itself in the face. It then cracked a somewhat lopsided smile and waved. Yorke let out a laugh, this was new! He'd never seen a hollow act so… friendly.
Yorke scanned the floor for a moment, before locating the stick he'd left there yesterday. He picked it up, and held it out to the hollow who stared at it with an utterly unreadable expression. Slowly, cautiously it reached forward and touched the piece of wood with a single finger. When it didn't come alive and try to eat him, the undead happily took it from Yorke and began waving it about. Pleased with himself, Yorke continued into his cell.
It was only now that he was preparing to leave that Yorke realised how attached he had become to this little place. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't warm and it certainly wasn't comfortable (except for that patch of moss in the corner) but that didn't matter to him. It was his.
He ran a hand across the rough, cracked wall. He felt the grooves and holes until he found the right spot, the part with the loose brick. He took hold of the brick and slowly pulled it out of the wall, revealing a small hollowed-out section. Yorke placed the brick onto the floor, and reached his hand inside the hole. After a moment or two he found what he was looking for and pulled out a leather satchel.
All of his possessions were in this bag: a muddy green doll, a silver coin, a pendant, a pair of binoculars, a small keychain which he'd never found locks for and a few prism stones. All of these he had found in the asylum, none of them really belonged to him but their previous owners had apparently left them behind. Yorke was concerned that made them fair game. He attached the bag to his ramshackle armor as tightly as possible, before turning and preparing to leave.
Just as he was about to leave the cell, he heard a caw and watched as Snuggly fluttered into view holding a… an iron bar? She carried it into the cell, dropping what could now be identified as one of the asylum's prison bars in front of him.
"Hello, Yorke!" she called happily, perching herself on the broken former-gate to his cell. "Ser Oscar told Snuggly you were here, she is very happy to see that you are well!" The little crow emphasised this with a flap of her wings.
"Thanks, Snuggly. And thanks for saving me too, I didn't get the chance to say it earlier, but that knight would've killed me without you." She seemingly beamed with pride at the comment. Yorke wasn't even bothering to wonder how her beak could convey this anymore, and simply accepted that Snuggly was probably a little bit magical. "Oh that reminds me, what is this?" Yorke asked, gesturing towards the metal bar on the floor.
"It is the crow-bar! Snuggly realised that you did not have any means to protect yourself from nasties, and decided you needed a weapon. So Snuggly went to her personal stash and brought this for you." The crow-bar? Yorke nearly face-palmed at the awful pun, but he had to admit it had a nice ring to it. "Go on, take it. You must be able to smack the mean people in the head if we are to go to Lordran," Snuggly added with all the wisdom of a sage.
Deciding to humor the bird, York reached down and took the crow-bar from the floor. The first thing he noticed was how surprisingly clean it was. He was certain that there was a single bar in the entire place that wasn't rusted to the core, but this one seemed almost brand new! Aside from that, it really was just a piece of metal. A pointed piece of metal with a lot of weight behind it, but still a piece of metal.
A sword or actual mace would have been far more effective probably, but for some reason Yorke didn't want one. Not anymore.
Nope. The crow-bar was for him. it was after all from a friend, and wasn't friendship supposed to be able to conquer all odds? Or something anyway.
He smiled at Snuggly, sheathing the improvised weapon as best he could by shoving it in between a few straps on his belt.
"It's awesome, thanks Snuggly. How did you even carry it? It's pretty heavy."
"Snuggly is strong," she replied simply before flying up and landing on York's shoulder. "Are you ready to go?"
"I guess so, got anything else you'd like to get from your stash?" She shook her head.
"No, no. Snuggly is ready when you are." At that, York walked back out his cell, past the stick-hollow and back to the courtyard. Once they arrived they saw Oscar laid down with his hands behind his head on the grass. His equipment lay next to him, with the addition of a bag which he had presumably found whilst exploring the cells.
"Oscar, let's blow this shithole!" he called loudly. The blonde knight raised his head to see them walking towards him, then stood up. He quickly put his helmet on, followed by his bag and finally he took his weapons. Fully geared-up, Oscar looked every bit the knight of legend.
"I couldn't have phrased it better if I tried. Said your goodbyes?"
"Yep," Yorke replied, stooping down and taking his new shield from where he had left it next to the bonfire. For once, Yorke felt prepared. They could handle whatever the gods threw at them, so long as they stuck together.
Finally ready to go the trio walked back up to the cliff side, circling the hole which the Black Knight had fallen through. Yorke couldn't help peeking over the edge though, and was surprised to see what appeared to be an even bigger asylum demon prowling below. He felt an immense relief that he hadn't fallen instead, even if he'd survived the fall there was no way he could have beaten such a creature. He rushed past the hole, suddenly scared he might trip into it.
The group stood atop the cliffside, and took in the view. They could see for miles, mountains stretching as far as the eye could see. The large crow was perched on a tree nearby, patiently waiting for them to do… something. It was only now that Yorke realised he had no clue how to make the bird carry them.
"Oscar? What do we do now?" He seemed to ponder that question for a few moments before turning back and asking:
"How did the other one do it?"
"He just jumped off, did a pose too but I don't think that's important." Oscar nodded, carefully taking a few more steps forward. York glanced to his side, and noticed that the large bird seemed to be tensing up, crouching lower and lower, its eyes narrowing. Oh no, he thought.
Before he could even begin to warn his friend. the bird shot off it's perch, talons outstretched. It grabbed the knight and shot straight down the cliffside leaving Yorke and Snuggly just stood there, staring like idiots. For a moment all was silent. Yorke could hear the beat of his heart and the quiet breathing of Snuggly.
That all changed a moment later when the massive crow flew back up, Oscar in one talon and the other one open. Yorke barely had a moment to register what was going on before it grabbed him too and took off into the sky.
He had never screamed so hard before. He was pretty certain he'd never heard anyone shout as hard as Oscar did either, who yelled triumphantly to the heavens. He was free, and he was chosen. Snuggly seemed caught somewhere in between, as she let out an utterly indefinable sound of combined joy and terror, her claws digging deep into the leather of Yorke's armor.
Then they were gone: whisked away from the asylum to lands beyond, following the path already travelled by another undead. They marked the first time in the history of all Lordan's confusing, convoluted worlds that not only two undead had escaped the asylum, but also a talking crow and an incompetent human to boot.
And despite the terror he felt, despite the utter gut-wrenching fear that he would fall at any moment, to be dashed against the ground kilometres below them, Yorke was happy.
For he had never felt more alive.