Chapter Four: Relative Morality

The travellers decided it would be wise to replenish their energies by resting the night at their new bonfire. Their sleep was peaceful and refreshing but when morning arrived they realised quite how hungry they were. Sofia suggested they drink some of their Estus flasks for breakfast, but the others argued that they would run out of their supplies too quickly this way and that if they needed them for an emergency, they would have none.

"Well, that's where our humanity comes in," smirked Sofia intelligently. Before her companions had the time to ask what she meant, she bent down by the fire, produced the humanity she was carrying and let the flames absorb it. After two seconds of intense silence, the flames spat out five more Estus flasks.

"Woah, how did you do that?" asked John, intrigued. He stared at the flasks with his mouth half open.

"She kindled the fire," explained Emma, grabbing one of the flasks. She took a sip whilst closing her eyes. "Hmmm...tastes like mango juice..."

"Oh. Really?" spurned John. "I'm not a fan of... mango." He brought one of the dark green bottles to his nose. "Green tea?" He dubiously placed the neck of the bottle to his lips and sipped a little bit of the orange liquid. "Ah..." he sighed, pleased by the flavour. "Perfection..."

"Interesting..." mused Lon'qu. "Let me try... It tastes like... like... cabbage stew!" He smiled to himself quietly as he savoured the magical drink.

"What about you two?" asked John, referring to Sofia and Sherlock. "What does it taste like for you?"

Sofia passed a bottle to Sherlock, who hesitantly accepted it. "Well, mine changes depending on my mood," replied Sofia, "...but right now it tastes like..."

"Mrs Hudson's tea and biscuits," interrupted Sherlock. "Oh, how I do miss Baker Street..."

The others looked at him pitifully. Sherlock admitting to such emotions?... That was quite unheard of.

"Don't worry Sherlock," chirped Sofia, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. She retracted her arm after acknowledging the weird gesture. "Uh...we'll be out of this game before you know it!"

"Humph...After being killed multiple times, of course," he responded morbidly. The flask almost shattered in his strong grip. John carefully removed it from his grasp. They sat in muteness for a while, unsure of what to do next.

"You know what?" proposed Sofia whilst walking over to the exit. "I know that there's a merchant near by. We have enough souls now... why don't we have a look at his wares? We might find something useful..."

"Good idea," agreed Lon'qu, getting to his feet.

They left their comfortable camp behind them as they exited the building. The crossbow wielder had spawned facing away from them, so Emma managed to perform a swift back stab before the hollows below had noticed. Once they had, they dashed towards the group, brandishing their weapons. However, one tripped over its own feet just as it was about to reach them, falling to its death. Emma waved at it sarcastically, quickly dodging an incoming blow from its friend. She retaliated, elbowing it in the face towards Lon'qu who shield bashed it off the edge to join its partner. They laughed as they watched it flail on its way down.

They descended the small flight of steps to the main platform, taking care of an apparently hidden undead behind rows of wooden planks.

"We just need to turn left here..." instructed Sofia.

"Look at the shields and spears those undead soldiers are wielding," observed John, slightly intimidated.

"Yeah, they're a little trickier to deal with than the whelps we've been fighting," informed Emma.

"I guess we'll take them on one by one then?" strategised Lon'qu, searching for any possible faults in their armour.

"That seems like a wise idea," agreed Sherlock. "For it to work though, we need someone to lure them out."

"Nice of you to volunteer, Sherlock," smiled Emma cheekily. "Off you go."

His pride prevented him from refusing, so he became the bait. He approached the soldiers slowly, catching their eyes in the hopes of taunting them. They noticed him, scoffed at his lack of protection and decided he wasn't worth their time. Anger flashed in Sherlock's eyes as he saw their lack of attention. He stormed forwards, swinging his giant club at them in a berserk-like manner, knocking one off its feet. He attacked the other with such force that he managed to break its metal shield. This may not have been their original plan, but now that the soldiers' defences had been lowered, the others joined the fray. Within seconds the assumed tricky troupe had been eliminated.

"I think I'll take this as a souvenir," chuckled Lon'qu picking up the rusty black shield that had been spared from Sherlock's wrath. It shone in the sunlight as the wanderer equipped it.

"Suits you," grinned Emma. He smiled sheepishly, a little embarrassed by the compliment.

"So..." giggled Sofia, trying to change the subject. "Follow me to the vendor." She smashed a pile of crates with her axe, revealing a hidden hole to the building beneath them. She dropped down the gap and the others soon followed her. The room was dark and sparse, containing odd sacks and cracked crates, which they took no notice of as Sofia led them onto an outside balcony.

"Well know..." croaked an old man's voice. They turned to face the undead merchant, who was sitting cross legged to the right of them, surrounded by pots, pans, armour and various other items. "You seem to have your wits about you, hmm? Then you're all welcome customers! I trade for souls. Everything's for sale! Nee hee hee hee hee!" His dirty white head band twitched as he laughed.

"Yes, we've been looking for a merchant. Nice to meet you," strained John, avoiding the pink man's hollow eyes. They fixed onto the warrior in delight, making him shudder.

"I hope you brought plenty of souls!" he exclaimed, obviously happy to have some customers.

"We have a fair amount," confirmed Sofia with a smile. They searched through his supplies, hoping to find some items of use.

"I'd like to buy... 10 fire bombs and 5 throwing knives," declared Emma, carrying the hoard in her arms.

"Nee hee hee! That's 550 souls, my dear!" Emma glowed white momentarily, then the light faded and illuminated the merchant.

"Wonderful! Anything else?"

"I see you're selling what looks like a reinforced club," ascertained Sherlock, comparing it to his current weapon. "I've become rather attached to this type of munition, so I ask you, how much is this upgrade?

"350 souls... heh, heh." The merchant was breathing abnormally heavily from his excitement.

"I'll take it." The deprived glowed white, then did the merchant, who was stroking the air beside him.

"What's that?" asked Sofia, deciding that it was more likely she couldn't see what he was touching than it being nothing.

"Ah, this one? Ain't she lovely? Her name is Yulia. She's plumb in love with me. You'd never leave my side, now would you, Yulia?"

The five looked at each other with mutual understanding; this man was definitely out of his mind.

"Could I stroke her?" joked Emma, approaching the patch of air he was touching.

He pulled back, "Ah, you can forget it. I'm all that she needs. Careful, she'll bite your little fingers off! Be kind, Yulia, be kind! Nee hee hee hee hee!"

"How did you find her?" inquired John, joining in with the ruse.

"Eh? I'm not here to chit-chat. We talk business, or we talk nothing at all!" John bit his lip as the once delighted eyes became dangerously angry.

"Right. Sorry... Um... that short bow... and some standard arrows please." He shifted uncomfortably.

The merchant's dumb smile returned, "Ooh... expensive choice! One bow and 50 arrows. That'll be 1200 souls, my friend! Nee hee hee!"

"What?" John's heart sank at the price. The merchant's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"That's great," assured Sofia, glowing white. John was about to protest but the transaction was already complete. He gave her a strong look of thanks and she nodded back at him smiling, as if it was little trouble.

"Is that armour?!" Sherlock had spotted a fine set of chain mail behind the merchant.

"Oh, yes, hee hee, yes. It's made of strong interlinked rings of steel. Knights may favour flashy armour but, on the battlefield, anything is good as long as it keeps the wearer alive. Nee hee hee... Looks like you could use some." Emma and Sofia glanced at each other. "Pricey equipment... but you all seem like rich folk..." He almost drooled from his exhilaration. "2300 souls! Nee hee hee!" On impulse, Emma grabbed the equipment and lobbed it over the balcony. Sherlock stared at her in astonishment.

"Oi! You've gone mad, have you!? I'll teach you! You lousy rat! Yulia! Yulia!" The merchant stumbled to his feet, drawing his sword. A flash of metal and he lay defeated on his pots. Lon'qu wiped the undead's blood on his sleeve and looked up at Emma. "You're action was bizarre and somewhat disturbing and although I don't understand your intent, it was wrong of him to dare lay a finger on you." He blinked at her then bent down to pillage the corpse. She stared at him in shock as he rummaged around the man's body. An angered expression was frozen on the merchant's face as Lon'qu withdrew a beautiful katana, a residence key, an orange guidance soap stone and one humanity.

"Shall we just forget this ever happened?" suggested Sofia, shuffling towards the entrance to the building.

"Wait." Lon'qu unsheathed his scimitar and presented it to Emma. She covered her mouth with her hand as she struggled for words. "I want you to have this. I saw how you looked at it when I first wielded it. So...here." She picked up the sword in both her hands, examining the stunning curved blade.

"Th...Thank you, Lon'qu. I... I don't know how to repay you..." she blushed, staring at her boots. He smiled with her reaction, holding his new weapon in both his hands.

"Sofia, what's the story behind this blade?" he requested, admiring it.

"The Uchigatana was forged in an eastern land. It's known for its brisk slashing motions and its ability to inflict extra bleed damage. As you can see, it's very sharp but the blade can easily be nicked."

"I'll take care of it," he promised, putting away the two-hander in its leather bound sheath.

"It's been quite a day. Should we return to our bonfire?" yawned John.

"Good idea."