XI. Lord of Hollows
"You know, we of Astora appreciate those who let their actions speak for them."
Landstrider nodded in response, as she and Anri walked along the perimeter of Firelink Shrine. The place was solemn, as always, though more crowded than usual, as several Unkindled had coalesced there to ease their burdens. A Finger of Rosaria had claimed a perch to brood menacingly from, as well as some shady merchant named Patches – and there was a peculiar knightess of the Sunless Realms who made her presence known, as well. Additionally, Orbeck of Vinheim had taken up residence by the blacksmith, poring over his scrolls with unparalleled focus.
The stoic swordswoman spoke up, her voice shaky from lack of use. "What happened to your homeland… Astora?" She inquired, trying her best to avert her eyes from the knight beside her. Anri sighed, offering a quiet reply.
"It was destroyed, long ago, by a terrible beast."
"Were you there?"
Anri chuckled softly in response, "No, it was before my time." She unsheathed her royal sword, showing it to Landstrider. "I found this, as well as my armor, when I visited the ruins of Astora. I claimed it as my own. I thought to myself, perhaps the mythic weight of that name… 'Astora,' it would legitimize my cause, give greater purpose to my duty." Sheathing the blade, she looked wistfully out along the horizon as the two entered the Firelink courtyard.
"I do doubt my duty, you know. I think we all do, at some point." She posited.
"What did Aldrich do to you?"
"That's…" the Astoran began, but hesitated. Landstrider perceived a great storm of emotion beneath the knight's helmet. "Perhaps I will tell you, someday. I don't think I am ready for that. Forgive me." The stoic swordswoman nodded to her, and the two continued forth outside.
"We know that Aldrich is in Irithyll, the problem is getting there, sage." Rodric explained, rubbing his forehead. "I understand," Ephaim countered, as he had a dozen times already, "but historically, the Boreal Valley was much farther away, separated by hundreds of miles. These lands could have converged any number of ways – it is impossible to say."
The two continued to verbally spar, and so Ophelia removed herself from their presence, seeking out a place to meditate. Perhaps she could divine the answer on her own.
Anri and Landstrider finally returned, the former joining Rodric and Ephaim to discuss their next steps. The stoic swordswoman, however, slinked away to collude with Yuria once more. Ophelia spied her from above, eyeing her cautiously.
"Our Lord and Liege," the woman in black whispered sweetly, "knowest thou of a maid named Anri? She is a Hollow, like us… and will join thee in wedlock."
Landstrider was stunned, almost choking in response. "Wedlock?" She questioned. Yuria nodded, her smug grin obvious, even through her billed mask. "Indeed, my Lord. A fellow of mine guides her at this very moment. When the time is ripe, thou mayst make thy salutations… for what Lord taketh no spouse?"
It was surprise for the stoic swordswoman, though not an entirely unpleasant one. She had grown rather fond of Anri – her strength, conviction, and that gentle voice that flowed like honey. She dwelled a moment on the sound of that voice. Perhaps it was no longer wrong to entertain such thoughts, since the swordswoman would be taking her as her bride.
"Very well." Landstrider softly replied.
"There is another matter, my Lord." Yuria began, edging closer to the swordswoman. "I'm afraid I must say… Orbeck of Vinheim is a cause of much consternation." Landstrider's brow furrowed at the assertion, but allowed the woman in black to continue. "He proclaimeth himself Lord of Hollows. If left alone, he may one day imperil thy rule."
"What am I to do about this?" The swordswoman inquired.
"What thou do'th best, good Hollow."
"Kill him…?"
Yuria nodded hastily. "Fall to this matter yarely," she warned, "else we are unraveled. Decisiveness is the mark of a true monarch."
The woman in black produced a shimmering soul, holding it to Landstrider. "I do have a gift for thee, to ease the duties thou bear'st. A treasure of Londor, befitting of a true Lord." Landstrider touched the soul, which materialized into a peculiar red vortex. The swordswoman breathed deeply, anxiously, as the energy affixed itself to her left hand. She held it up, inspecting it – she could almost become lost in the gentle darkness she now wielded. This was weaponized Abyss.
"My Lord of Hollows, you have been gifted the Dark Hand. May the dark sigil guide thee."
Rodric, Ephaim, and Anri had finally discovered a way into Irithyll, as the old sage had procured some historical texts from Orbeck just moments earlier. The sprawling Catacombs of Carthus would be their entryway, as it stretched from the hallowed grounds of Farron Keep all the way to the city of Irithyll.
"If there was ever a place to enter the Catacombs from Farron Keep, I'd wager it'd be the mausoleum of the Abyss Watchers." The proud knight reasoned, drawing nods of agreement from his companions.
Landstrider rejoined the Unkindled, joined shortly after by Ophelia, who glanced suspiciously at the swordswoman.
"Friends, you made good timing." Rodric spoke, donning his helm. "Anri and Horace are off to Irithyll, by way of the Catacombs of Carthus."
The old sage nodded, adding, "Yes, and once I've spoken with Orbeck again, we will be right behind them. This mystery may yet be unraveled." Landstrider felt herself twitch at the name of the young sorcerer. Pretender, she thought to herself, proclaiming himself the Lord of Hollows. She felt minor concern for her sudden animosity toward the man, but she could scarcely afford to be soft when she became a monarch.
Landstrider clenched her fist unconsciously, then looked down to inspect it. Her skin condition seemed to be worsening, looking rather old and sickly, even compared to before. She unraveled some of the wrappings from her arm, where she discovered further withering of her skin. Quickly, she retied the wrappings, hiding her hands from her companions. With slight worry, she raised a hand to her face, where she felt a similar, withered texture.
Anri and Horace warped away at the bonfire, the former offering Landstrider a quick look before departing. Ephaim, likewise, left a moment to offer Orbeck his thanks. A short time later, the party left for the mausoleum of the Abyss Watchers.
