A Kingly Endeavour
Rated: R for Ranni's rampage
Discaimer: Elden Ring belongs to Fromsoft and Fate/ franchise to TypeMoon
Chapter 3: Seamster Patches Up a Dog
Boc only felt pain.
It was downright stupid for him to go back to that cave after the naked man had freed him from his prison. He had believed that his former brothers would at least let him have his dear old mother's sewing kit, but instead he was met with a flurry of punches, kicks and bites as the guards inside had ganged up on him. The Seamster knew that his snout was definitely broken and so was his left hand, the very least. Perhaps he should have asked the golden man to help in returning the lost tools.
"Oh... It... hurts..." he wheezed out, hoping that Marika or the Erdtree would hear him and put him out of his misery. What good was life to someone like him, who could not defend himself? What good was the skill of crafting in an apocalyptic and desolate land? Boc closed his eyes and in doing so acknowledged death that would surely come. His only regret was that he could not succeed his poor old mother. He let the tears flow freely and banged at the cold sand floor sending splotches flying around him.
"Has your resolve vanished, mongrel?" a booming and deep human voice asked above him and Boc dared not to believe that it truly was the blonde human that had broken the spell keeping him captive.
"Oh, what are you doing here?" he finally managed to lift his head and saw the crimson eyes of the being whom he believed to be more spirit than man, created to wreak havoc on the Lands Between. Still, he was only a man and what could a man do against so many of his former comrades?
"You must leave this place at once. They'll rush in and beat you to a pulp." He tried to warn the naked human "You'll end up just like me"
"Are you serious?" a golden eyebrow was raised and behind Boc he heard screams of his fellows, their roars calling for the human's blood "As if these stunted kinsmen of yours could halt my path" he sounded almost offended and took out a flask from a golden portal that appeared on the ground before him. Was it really Grace that he saw?!
"Drink mongrel and you'll show me your worth yet" he instructed, and Boc feverishly grasped at the container and drank the Erdtree's sap, feeling his wounds heal and bones mend. It was as if the beating had never happened! Oh, how marvellous! With a thud a dagger was thrown in front of his hands and groggily he rose up from the floor, confusedly looking at his benefactor.
"While I must thank you, why the dagger"
"You will slay those who harmed you and retrieve what is yours" he smirked and in both of his hands the demi-human spied the same pair of golden swords that the man had used the first time the clothes clad monster had seen him.
"I-I can't!" he cried "I have never wielded a blade and…and-"
"So, you would shame your mother and the love she gave for you?" he asked, pointing his right sword at the dagger "You would leave her last gifts in the hands of these curs. What a lowly mongrel you are… " the cruel man clicked his tongued and shook his head.
"Perhaps your life must come at an end rather than to prove her wrong"
Boc was torn. The human knew that he couldn't fight. He knew, damn it! Yet was he really so helpless that he would simply die here and now.
"What can I do?" he broke and asked.
"Pick up the dagger and prove yourself worthy to have a place by my side" the stranger smirked and with his crimson eyes awaited Boc's reaction, as a snake watching a mouse before it. Tears still did not swell from the small creature's eyes, but he had no choice. Either he would die here by the human's blade or die fighting in the caverns- inevitably torn asunder by the chiefs and rest of the packs. Yet there was a smidge of chance that the weakling such as he could survive.
The Demihuman grasped the dagger and pulled it from the wet sand, some chunks still clinging to the sharpened blade.
"Good" said the man towering above him "It is time that you ascend from your humble beginnings, is it not?"
So, Boc cowardly slit the throat of the sleeping guard first. He had pummelled the seamster grievously before, tearing at his clothes, incensed at how he could look different from the rest of his kin. He did not have to look for the blonde man who had set him on this path as he saw the crimson eyed blackguard gracefully dashing through the open cave and cutting open scores of demihumans, wherever he stepped. He felt sick as he saw guts spill from one unfortunate robber wielding a club. This was enough for the seamster turned killer to let his guard down and fall victim to a particularly sneaky bandit. The other demihuman tried to butcher him with a rusty cleaver and unthinkingly Boc his dagger as a sewing needle, hoping to strike the collar and as crimson ichor gushed over his face, the small being knew that he had successfully slain another of his kin. Now he could not help himself and crumbled to the floor, bile breaking out from the bowels of his mouth and onto the wet sand.
"Good work, mongrel!" the golden man laughed with mirth as he slew the last demihuman charging at him, cutting his attacker in half. While it still sickened him, the thin creature no longer possessed the inclination to rid his bowels of any more remnants of his food, if there was any.
"Let us not waste any more time" he pointed at the sword deeper into caverns, where the bosses undoubtedly lurked "The faster we have slaughtered them all, the less we shall have to endure these dank caves and the cretins you called kin"
"As you wish sir" Boc still couldn't look away from the bloody dagger that was clutched in his little claws "Aren't you worried that they might overwhelm you?"
"Ha, how quick you are to worry and surrender, but do I not begrudge you" strange man turned to him "it was a privilege of the weak and the cowardly, after this day I decree that you shall be neither."
"Who are you to make such a decree?" Boc asked
"Do you not see the King when he graces you with his presence?" the blood-stained monster smirked and the seamster supposed that he was indeed a King. Godfrey too had been a grand warrior and those were the battlefield's greatest monsters after all.
Blaidd winced as he parried the sword strikes as the madman clad in retrofitted Tree Sentinel's armour laughed in his face as for all his strength he felt as if he was being pushed back. Not many could do that and certainly no mere Tarnished, who had come wandering into Mistwood ruins, slaughtering the adorable Runebear who had wanted merely to sniff the newcomer.
"Good job dog!" the crimson eyed madman laughed as he moved much too fast for a simple Tarnished in such heavy plate and using attacks almost half-heartedly. He had heard rumours of passing sellswords muttering about someone felling the Dragon Ahgeel, who had terrorized the swamps of Limgrave. Now it did seem likely that such a man had been capable of such a feat, Ancient Dragons or no, they were a dangerous prey.
"What, no bark?" the golden-haired man continued to taunt him, ducking sideways to evade Blaidd's Lion Claw, but the Half-Wolf warrior was not done, he would make this poacher to pay dearly with his life. Arrogance would be his grave and in mistress' Ranni's name, the shadow would be the spade.
"Heh" the furred warrior howled and launched himself forward, frost now coating his blade "You should feel my bite, Tarnished!"
Then he launched himself at the blonde, who narrowed his eyes in anger. The Royal Greatsword crafted by Rennala was exceptional as it hid within its silver frame a grand spell of cold. Before the Shattering, the Carian Queen had been inspired by ancient heroes of Zamor. He slammed his blade in the ground and twisted it. His enemy had dodged it, earrings swinging in the wind, but it was what he had wanted all along. He looked at his foe and unleashed the freezing storm imprisoned within his blade. He would relish the look of that boundless arrogance frozen on this foe's face. Ground itself froze, snow covered the remaining stone pillars of Mistwood ruins and Blaidd himself could feel his hot breath creating smoke in the chill air as the storm raged.
The gales around him howled and Blaidd felt that the job was done, and he could finally head out to find Darriwil and hunt the traitorous knight down. There was no way his opponent would survive such a freezing storm and with that thought the Shadow sealed the magic of his sword, feeling a bit lightheaded from all the magic that he had expended to fight this Tarnished. In any case, he did not sheathe his blade just yet. If there was a chance that this man had survived, the old warrior needed to be ready and aware.
"This sorcery is not half bad, half-breed" behind him a clapping could be heard and whipping around he saw his opponent, completely harmless- save for the thin layer of frost covering the round and golden greatshield that was wrought with white growing roots. It was unmistakably the shield of the Tree Sentinels. He knew what was going to happen now and it did not make him happy, not one bit "Let us see if you want to taste it as well"
It was a cue for Blaidd to dodge the large golden blast that was spewed from the centre of the shield. Ducking behind a pillar, he had to duck once more to evade the rubble and come out in the direction of the woods. He knew that the man would likely give chase, giving the warrior the chance to ambush the gold haired Tarnished. Running towards the man's last known location, the wolf-shadow almost ran straight into the outstretched sword of his enemy, who seemed more than amused at this situation.
"Sit, mongrel" a cocky smirk that this bastard wore effortlessly almost dared Blaidd to attempt tearing off skin of his face "Has your hearing worsened since the blast? Or did you not hear me the first time?"
"I heard you the first time, you bastard!" he growled out, but had no choice to crouch as the golden sword of Godrick's Scions was pushed into his neck, threatening to draw blood. As a response, the sword's tip was pressed even deeper and soon Blaidd found himself on the ground, looking at the golden warrior. Now that he was not itching to kill the cur, even if it would serve as his death.
"For a dog you fight well" the golden haired raised his shield arm and it vanished in a golden light "who is your master"
"What makes you think I have master?" he huffed and was thankful that his wolf like face was foreign to humans and could not show emotions that well "I am a wolf, see or are those eyes of yours just an illness?"
"If you're a stray then it is even better" the red eyes narrowed with an evil glint and the mocking smirk was looking downright triumphant "You can be my dog from now on unless you want to experience what it means to disobey a Kingly summons"
Alright, this man had clearly lost his mind. He only needed a way to distract him and then Blaidd would be free. He hated to grovel or acquiesce to this man's outrageous demands, but it may be the only way he could shake him off and take down Darriwil.
If only the Tarnished was arrogant enough for Blaidd to trap him in the Evergoal with the Bloodhound Knight for company. That gave him idea and unbeknownst to him, his tail started to wag.
Recusant Patches was a man of integrity, honour and impeccable character. It was he who served the righteous Volcano Manor and did Lady Tanith's bidding against the Tyranny of the Golden Order. After all, weren't those Erdtree cultists downright sadistic when it came to the treatment of trolls, beastmen, misbegotten and all other hideous, if not sentient beasties?
It wasn't right and that's why Patches had joined the Cause, when he first had come to the Lands Between. At first, he had been quite rootless, heh, but in Volcano Manor he found purpose or something along those lines. Like the limber Rya, he was a forward scout, looking for potential…heroes…to serve their lovely home. The Recusants obviously had to enjoy colour red for if they could not, the manor was clearly not made with them in mind.
Ever since the Tree Sentinel had taken post up the old Fringefolk Heroes Grave, Patches had lost almost all customers, be they Tarnished or ordinary folk, still sane in this cesspit of a realm. Since there wasn't much to do, the Bald man locked up his chests, his treasure trove and sauntered forth. He waded through the waters of Limgrave River, cursing as his leather boots got wet and then got in a fight with couple of Kaidan mercenaries, who now only required rest. Thankfully Murkwater cave was far enough from the lake, where a fire breathing lizard had made his lair, Patches had no wish to encounter that beast while on a trip, oh no.
Eventually, his path had brought him to the Evergaol of the Forlorn Hound, where all the stone worms had seemingly been smashed to bits. In the middle of it laid a corpse of a Bloodhound knight and a blonde man in strangely slim armour of a Tree Sentinel, who was laughing.
Well, the bald man always enjoyed a good laugh, a gaff, a giggle.
"G'day mate," he greeted the golden clad man and mentally counted how many runes it all was worth. It was mind boggling that one could see so much gold outside of Leyndell "What happened here?"
The golden man turned to him, and Patches had a feeling that this lad was dangerous. His entire aura radiated control and power, while his eyes spoke of no mercy. The being sitting there seemed to wordlessly to proclaim, 'I am above you' and it was a 50/50 chance that he was right.
Also, he was ungodly beautiful, like a statue, but Patches had to wonder if all that didn't come with a ghastly curse.
"I took in a stray dog, but it turned out to have an owner" the smile was not malicious, but it definitely wasn't honest, like the spearman's "Who are you to interrupt my meditation?"
"That's a pity but chin up there are lots of dogs in these parts and all of them are free" the Recusant offered his own smile and squatted at the outer ring of the stone platform. It never hurt not to be too careful "I'm Patches, a travelling peddler."
"Show me your wares merchant and let me judge what wort you bring" the blonde man proclaimed, and it just rubbed the other warrior the wrong way. He wanted to test this punk, just a little bit, honest.
Thankfully to keep up with his daytime profession Patches brought up his backpack and opened for the golden man to see. He hoped that he had just picked up his scavenging bag, or else it would be trouble.
"I see, what about that shimmering stone?" the stranger asked, and the Recusant did a double take at the item. He never remembered having it in the first place, who was the horned man depicted on the stone.
"5000 runes and its yours" Patches said, and the stranger nodded. Out of a shimmering gold portal, the warrior brought out a shimmering orb, which glowed with the power of vanquished souls and to the servant of Lady Tanith, it was more than enough. The fool didn't know how much he was giving for a random trinket!
"Here you go" Patches threw his new customer the stone slab and caught the ball of runes in exchange. It was strange how easily the knight caught the slab, and it did make him wonder, just how had he come across such armour "Thank you for your purchase!"
"Leave, before you test my patience, mongrel" the man simply spoke and turned from Patches, who did not understand the cause of this hostility. Huffing in annoyance, he spied one last glance at the golden clad warrior and stood up. Silently hoping that he would stop his meditation soon and wander off, finding a neat ledge. Or ravine, gorge- really, Patches wasn't picky at all. He had met many heroes and he was certain that while arrogant, this newest hero would not escape his polished tricks. One had only to wait to find a great opportunity to make their move.
"Good luck in your travels, if you need more of my wares, Murkwater cave is the spot of my bazaar, mate." He called to the still mediating warrior and slowly walked towards the road, where he spied a looted Black Carriage and its accompanying forces slain, including the Trolls. Now that must have been his lucky day, though Patches wondered who was the one who had slain all these men and those poor enslaved trolls. Then it sort of dawned on him. Patches had met the man who had committed these grievous acts and even sold him a funny looking stone for far more runes than it was worth. Then again the man seemed to be too smart to gauge the price incorrectly and maybe he just had such abundance of runes that it didn't faze him at all.
Never mind that, Patches looked and saw the corpses untouched, which meant only one thing- he could loot them. Who knew, maybe he could arm a regiment, ha!
A.N: Hello friends, Next chapter we finally get to Castle Stormveil and Gilgamesh's POV. Thank all of you who have enjoyed, favourited and followed this story thus far. Reviews feed me as Saber's Dakimakura feeds Gil's treasury.
Answers to reviews:
Gilgamesh King of Mongrels: Your grace, you gotta elaborate on that in a PM, but I'd argue that a different character shows more similarities.
King Joker:
You're right and while it may make fun idea on its own, this is not the time or the place.
BeetleRUS:
I took everything Gil had that would help him directly in combat, Gate, Foresight, but his stats remain as a viable representation of his inhuman/divine nature. I had no idea how to make game inventory work, so the Grace given Gate was born. Something that makes Gilgamesh quite angry. He was stated to be literally perfection made flesh and its not irrational for women to be embarrassed when faced with such a man. As for Collector and Golden Rule, those two will prove a way to be quite nasty for his opponents and surprising for Gilgamesh.
To guests about Radahn:
General Radahn, the Scarscourge deserves a full-length chapter and nothing less than that dedicated to himself.
That's all for now.
Have a nice day!
-Spook