09

The Ringing of the First Bell

Thomas awoke at the bonfire with a start. Phantom pains ran along his body where the Watcher had beaten him... broken him. Who was that guy...? His train of thought was immediately was broken, however, by his compansion. "Prophet, what happened?" Oscar scrabbled at his inventory, pulling out a glowing black shape. A Humanity sprite. Thomas took it, and popped. The feeling of humanity filling his body was pleasant. More than that, actually. It was the biggest rush he ever felt. He wanted more... needed more... If he had to farm the rats in the Depths for the rest of his days...

Woah.

Thomas put a hand on the ground, and shook his head, clearing his mind. Do you want to end up like the Four Kings? Because that kind of thinking is how you end up like the Four Kings. Offering his Humanity to the flames, he restored himself, and the buzzing feeling in the back of his head cleared. Though, the whole unhollowing process still felt... well, unnatural.. I'm going to need to be more careful, next time. The prophet stood up, and smiled wanly at the group. "Well. let's put it this way; I got my ass fucking handed to me. I wasn't able to get the Crest, which means I won't be able to access the Forest Hunter covenant, unless I feel like on going a really long ass way out of my fucking way to deal with it, which I DON'T feel like doing, by the way, and I'll have to deal with giant cats, amongst other things like demonically possessed lawn garden art, and OH FUCKING SHIT!" This last bit was shouted so loudly, Andre stopped hammering below. The silence persisted for a moment, and then Andre resumed his work. Thomas took a breath, and spoke again. "I have to get my souls."

Striding into the forest, Thomas was again caught by the eerieness. His hand went to his own claymore, and he took comfort in the solid weapon in his hand, but he did not draw. The boy continued on, and eventually came to the edge of what Thomas had decided to call "Bladewood". For there were as many blades impaled in the trees, and the ground as there were trees growing from it. Now that Thomas wasn't rushing, Thomas could take a moment to inspect. Some of the smaller trees had a blade impaled next to them. Other, thicker trees had the blade impaled in them. Some trees had blades imbedded on them so long ago, that the damage that such an act would do was long healed over, and the trees had grown around them, some even to the hilt. Curiousity getting the better of him, Thomas reached out to grab a blade. It looked suspiciously like-

An arrow chose this moment to impale itself on his foot.

Cursing, Thomas knelt down, and broke the back of the arrow, sliding his foot up so that the arrow would slide out. He then sipped a bit of Estus, hollow soldier shield up, and then crushed the arrow in spite. "PHARIS! Where are you?" There was no answer for a long time. A warrior walked forward, then. Plated greaves covered the archer's legs. Plated metals covered his upper arms as well, with his left hand encased in a metal gauntlet, and the right hand had a leather gloves, with holes cut for the fingers to better grip the string of the bow. A plated chestplate could be occasionally witnessed underneath a loose dark-brown shawl, and the warrior's face was hidden in the shrouds of his earthen colored hood. A black, broad bladed greatsword was slung over his back. A pair of quivers, filled each with arrows crossed over his rear, and a curved stone dagger hung from each hip. "You know my name," The warrior stated. The tone was determined. Certain. Unquestioning.

And feminine.

Shit. Tumblr would have my fucking head over this. Thomas did a brief mental double-take, but physically kept his composure intact. "Why, yes. I do. I am a prophet. There is little that escapes my Sight. Not that I need to be a prophet to know of the legend of the great archer known as Pharis." If the story worked, after all, keep running with it.

Underneath the shadow of her hood, Thomas thought he could detect traces of a smirk. "All right, then, prophet. Tell me how many archers are currently pointing arrows at both you and your little friends, waiting for the slightest indication to turn you into quivers for tresspassing in the Bladewood, once the lost land of Oolacile."

Okay, first of all, how did I manage to guess the name of this place. Second of all, shit. Thomas had no idea where the archers where or how many. He'd have to guess. But he could stall for time. "Well. I am fully aware that The Watcher is a smart warrior. So I would surmise that he would have enough. You guys are pack hunters, like the Undead Legion to come. While I am focused on you, the arrows of the enemy would would come not from the front, where they would risk hitting you, but from the side." Thomas spread his arms out, palms up as he indicated their general directions. "Two full volleys from archers that I should have no way of knowing were even there, because they all have rings of fog, like most of you in Alvina's covenant."

Pharis relaxed the string on her bow. With her draw hand, she pushed back the hood, revealing features common to one from Carim, along with dark red hair and piercing green eyes. "The Master was right. You are a clever one." She smirked, facial features taking on a conspiratory tone. Blame her Carim heritage for that. They always look slightly sinister. "So. Why do you trespass upon the Bladewood? Lying will not be tolerated."

"Of course not," Thomas responded, slightly sarcastic in tone. "That would be ever so dreadful. Well, I'd like to join your covenant, and I'd like to recover my souls from where the Watcher bested me in combat."

"Your request to join is refused, flat out, prophet." This new voice reverberated through the woods as The Watcher emerged from the shadows,a Ring of Fog slipping off of his finger and into his pocket. He was dressed differently than the last time. Last time he was more cloak and robes than armor. Now he was girded fully in plate armor. It looked like a combination of the Knight Chestplate, Elite Knight Leggings, as well as either Knight or Elite Knight Gauntlets, and on top of all that he had the Elite Knight Helmet equipped, hiding his face. On his back was the same broad bladed greatsword he decapitated Thomas with before, covered by the Balder Shield. Additionally behind his back was a quiver of arrows, a twisted looking wooden catalyst, a talisman made from a highly worn cloth, with his strange curved dagger on his hip. Now that Thomas took a closer look at the Watcher, he also was certain that the warrior's hand was lightly on fire. A pyromancy flame? Is there anything this guy can't do? What the fuck is his soul level? Thomas had already been beaten by this guy once just with his weapons, and he was much less prepared than he clearly is now. The Watcher looked ready to take on a few armies. Solo. And win.

Pharis was apparently just as surprised by the Watcher's presence as Thomas was. She quickly backed away, and knelt before the Watcher. Thomas instinctively drew his claymore, but was no fool. He stepped back, not forward. The Astoran knights looked at him, as though seeking guidance on what to do. "At ease, Prophet," The Watcher spoke. "I won't attack. Not first, anyways..."

"Any reason I can't join?" Thomas asked, the question simple.

"Because I have decreed it, Child of EarthRealm." Again Thomas was thrown by that. Nobody knew that except Oscar and Solaire. "Thou know'st less than thee thinkest. Go. Reclaim thine souls. Ringest thine bells. Seek thou the Lordvessel. And then..." The Watcher's voice stopped for but a moment, and then spoke again. "Seekest ye the Dusk." This time, his voice was quieter. Instead of reverberating throughout the entirety of the forest, The Watcher's voice seemed to come from the man instead. The warrior's voice was husky, low, and seemed to hold an impenetrable sadness within it. Turning, the warrior began to walk off.

"Wait!" Thomas started to run ater him. "Who the fuck are you?" The only answer he received was to have the air in front of him riddled with arrows coming from either direction. Thomas fell forward trying to stop, and stayed down, waiting for the hail of wooden shafts to die down. To be completely fair, it WAS quicker to fade than he would admit, but it still felt like hours of time passed as the arrows flew. When the arrows finally died down, The sorcerer stayed down for a little longer, just to make sure, and slowly picked himself up. Looking around, he noticed with distaste that the Watcher was already gone from sight. "Fucking hell..." turning back to Pharis, he jammed a finger at the arrows littering the ground. "What the fuck was that about?"

"It was a warning shot," Pharis replied cooly. "Each of the Clan wanted you to know that pursuing him would be a foul mistake, indeed." She slung her bow on her back, then. "Now, I shall escort you to your souls, and then back to the edges of the Bladewood. To stray from me is to die. I suggest you keep up." With that, she strode forward, leaving Thomas to quickly scamble after her.

At the edges of Bladewood once more, Thomas took a moment to thank Pharis. "It was nothing, Prophet," she responded, giving a small smile. "One must act professional, especially with the Clan."

Thomas thought for a moment, and decided to go for it. "So, I'd like to ask a couple questions. What is your covenant called. How's Sif? And who the fuck is the Watcher?"

Pharis' eyes held a mischievous gleam to them. "You truly do not know? The Master was true to his words, it seems." She stepped closer to him. "You may seek the butterfly, yes. As to everthing else I say, heed the Old Wolf's words. Your questions are already answered, then." Thomas was about to object, when she raised a hand to shush him. "He swore me to secrecy on this matter, most specifically. You shall get no words from me."

Thomas cursed, indignant. "And what WILL I get from you?" he asked grouchily. The renowned archer looked at him again, a glint in her eyes, before grabbing his tunic, and pulling him to her. "Hey! What-" And then she was kissing him. Okay what the fuck is going on why is what the fuck I can't even what! Then just as quickly as it happened, it was over, Pharis already backing away, melting into the shadows of the woods. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ABOUT?!"

A chuckle could be heard from the shadowy gloom. "Trust me, Thomas. You'll understand when you're older..."

This only made Thomas even more indignant. "I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW I AM TWENTY THREE YEARS OLD! I'M OLD ENOUGH DAMN IT!" After no silence came from the gloom, the sorcerer screamed in frustration. Several minutes later, the boy manage to compose himself. "At least Solaire and Oscar weren't here to witness that. Thomas needed to seek Dusk, apparently. The Princess should be in her usual spot. But the Watcher said to get the Lordvessel first, so he needed to kill some Gargoyles. And Queelag... His thumb rubbed against the Old Witch's Ring on his finger. He had the barest inklings of a plan in his head. It needed fine tuning, but he had one forming, at least. Back at the Bonfire, Thomas spent his souls, and barely managed to have enough to use the Black Knight Shield. That was the good news. The bad news was that he no longer could fast roll, and instead could only medium roll. Unless he felt like switching out the claymore for his little dagger again. And honestly, forget that noise. He'd just spend a couple points on Endurance next time he leveled up. "Solaire. Oscar." The knights perked up. "Battle time."

They swept up the stairs like a force of nature. The Balder knight fell easily. Next was the group of hollows. "Solaire!" Thomas barked. "You and I defend Oscar. Oscar. Spear 'em." The knights gave their affirmatives as the Sorcerer hefted the blackened shield of the knight of Gwyn. The hollows' broken blades bounced off harmlessly, with Thomas barely feeling it thanks to the shield's hella stability. "Oh, yeah, baby. You are getting ALL the Twinkling Titanite in Anor Londo." Them dealt with, the party climbed the stairs till they arrived at the fog gate. "So. Our enemies are gargoyles," Thomas explained. "Solaire, you and I will initially take point in a triangle formation to pepper the first one with spells. Then, I'll take point while you guys attack it from the sides. We'll need to kill it quickly, before his friend wakes up. Ready?" The knights clashed their weapons on their shields, raring to go, and they stepped into the fog.

As they walked forward, Thoams heard stone cracking as the first gargoyle awoke, and jumped down, screeching. "Ow. My ears." As it charged forward, Thomas sent forth his best soul arrow (so, a regular soul arrow) while Solaire hit it with a bolt of lightning. The sorcerer then pulled out his shield, and started blocking as the warriors fanned out around him. The plan went well, all things considered. Thomas was able to barely hold off on the attacks while the knights went to town. Then the Gargoyle decided that Thomas wasn't a threat, and turned on Oscar, axe til swinging at Solaire. "Bad move," Thomas muttered as he pulled out his catalyst, and then two handed his claymore, making a leap attack at the tail before he severed it in the savage blow. The Gargoyle roared in pain, and Thomas quickly picked up the tail, sheathing his claymore as he two handed the tail axe. Both he and the gargoyle spun. The Gargoyle spun to face him, screaming in rage. Thomas spun to gain momentum as he smacked the edge of the axe blade into it's owner's face.

The Gargoyle jumped back, and landed next to his buddy. "Crap," Thomas muttered. The gargoyle ripped it's axe tail out of it's face, and then threw it aside, and both of them opened their mouths, fire burning in their collective maws. Pulling out his shield, The boy quickly popped some green blossom in his mouth, and chewed as he walked forward, shield raised. The fires struck his shield and washed around him, but did little damage, thanks to the shield's innate resistance to fire. Thomas lowered his sield for a brief moment, and his stamina was restored as he thrust the claymore into the first gargoyle's chest. It screamed as it fell, dead. Thomas allowed himself a congratulatory "Hell yeah" before bringing his shield up to block more flames. Oscar and Solaire had already moved around it, and started battering it with their weapons, quickly felling the weakened creature.

There was no lying. All three were breathing heavily after that battle. But hey, apart from some burns on Thomas, they had a flawless victory. Nothing remained but to ascend to the top, and ring the bell. Once there, Thomas stopped. "Guys, you might want to cover your ears for this."

Oscar instead, stubbornly shook his head. "We struggled much to come here. I will hear this bell's din in all it's glory." Solaire chuckled in response, motioning for Thomas to move on. The sorcerer merely shrugged and pulled the lever.