Isekai'd, My Posterior!
Damn. Did not expect that many people to latch onto this that quickly. Thanks for all the swell reviews so far. Here's more. Enjoy.
The crow ride here had been as William had envisioned it – as bumpy as a person trying to push out a constipated turd through his puckered, pile-ridden rectum. However, compared to the hell that sort of activity accomplished, this one began and ended in a series of steps. And extremely long. He knew so because they were still currently flying over a mountainous plain with more fog and harsh wind than there was dry ground and sparse forestry.
First, they had both waited upon the edge of a precarious cliff that ensured and endless fall into nothingness, the biting cold literally nipping the undeads face so hard that his other ear had fallen off and his shriveled groin had shriveled further into his body as if his mind had suddenly wanted a sex change.
Oscar had been chipper as a squirrel, hopping from one foot to another in anticipation for the gigantic bird that would take them to Lordran. The sight had made William want to kick him off said cliff for no other reason besides relieving his boredom – they had been waiting at that cliff for over two hours after all.
Then, as if to insult the unfortunate fellow, the wind had started to pick up. Initially, William had assumed that the breeze was already at its peak speed with the way it wanted to snag more of his body parts and throw them into the void below, but he had been wrong. Very much wrong.
So, it had grown. The snow surrounding them had started to quiver, the dead grass had raised their lethargic blades to acknowledge the incoming pandemonium, and the Astorian had slapped him on the shoulder before squealing like the happiest sow he had ever come across.
And then… the flying chicken had come into view.
It was more a raven than a crow, William had said after a quick examination of the flapping thing, and its size was not as astounding as one may have been led to believe – but for the reason of seeing his otherwise dim-witted friend's helmed face happy, William had obliged and acted just as stupefied (which had led to the servant of Velka cocking its head at him as if he were the weird one in this scenario).
Thereafter, he had had the displeasure of being grabbed by crap-coated talons, yanked from his comfortable position on the ground, and dragged off alongside a giddy knight who struggled so much the bird had dropped him. Actually dropped him. Before reluctantly flying down to catch him by the ankles before the world lost its only gullible savior. In that moment, William felt for the bird. He honestly did. The task of transporting annoying creatures to a land they would all soon die in was a familiar feeling for the undead. Why, it reminded him of the time he had been an Uber driver for other college kids that were too busy playing Fortnite and spilling soda laced with vodka on the backseat of his rental sedan. Those were painful times. Painful times that made him sad. But then he remembered the days he 'accidentally' reversed into a few of them on their way to the trunk. Those moments made him smile again.
Besides the uncomfortable travel arrangements, it was quite nice to the see the scenery, William mused. From where they were now, his eyeless sockets could see the vast fields of brown and green below. If he looked East, he could catch a glimpse of what looked like the starting's of a small dutchy parked just under the shadow of a smaller mountain, and next to it, a lake crystalized by the cold weather pressing down on the shoulders of the region. Above them, the sun shone brightly, sending small but grateful jabs of warmth through his clothes as they soared through the large fluffy clouds like a black bullet covered in oily feathers.
More time passed and William was beginning to relax, despite the fact that his legs were numb and the cold rushing against his skin made his wrinkles wrinkle further. It was actually kind of peaceful up here. Nothing but the air to speak to you. He wondered if that was why some birds preferred to migrate alone instead of with a formation. Perhaps, like humanity, there were certain members of their kin that chirped and quacked inane gibberish as if anything they said really mattered?
"This is the greatest moment of my life!" Oscar cheered amidst the screaming wind and William sighed. Here was a prime example of what he was talking about.
"Why don't you relax a bit? We're a way's away from our destination!"
A dry vein on the Thief's forehead twitched. How could he ever relax with the knight shouting at him like some buffoon? Then again… William risked a glance at his companion and saw him waving his gloved hands through the passing clouds as he dangled from the raven's grip. Maybe if he got the Astorian to scream enough their ride would drop him for a second time? It wouldn't be ideal to lose his Plan A, but it would surely make him laugh.
"Where do you hail from?" he heard Oscar holler over the wail of the air and William turned. That was right, he hadn't thought up his backstory yet. Not that he needed one. He could just as easily divert the conversation away from his origins if it ever came to that, although, having one just in case would be easier than exercising his non-existent social skills.
"A town far from here."
"What's that? I didn't hear you!" the knight shouted. William's mouth twitched in annoyance.
"Far away from here!"
"How far?"
"Very far!"
"Which region?"
"I don't know, somewhere in the South!"
He actually hailed from the West but trying to tell some Fourth Age knight belonging to a desolated country that he grew up where cranberries were farmed in abundance and bacon grease was a staple would be more troublesome than selling his body fluids to a backdoor doctor that gave out drugs in used needles.
Oscar nodded and continued to enjoy his joyride whilst William thought about his composition for a moment. He knew he was undead now, however that had happened. Which meant he was no longer a slave to his stomach. Or as far the game went, he didn't need to eat regularly. And although he was still breathing at this very moment, did turning undead mean certain body parts didn't necessarily need to function? Personally, he would be glad if he never needed to pee and excrete on a daily basis. Or eat for that matter.
A thought suddenly hit him, and William gained a sly look on his wrinkled visage before he shimmied his rump around in the Raven's claws. Focusing like the diligent scholar he wished he were, William clenched the muscles in his abdomen before pushing. A strained wheeze of dry air left his butt cheeks in reply. William grinned. So he could pass gas normally. What else could he do? He pushed again to see if a similar result would occur only to gasp in pain. He turned his head toward the ass he couldn't see and whimpered.
Believe it or not, he had just passed a lung out of his ass. It hurt like hell.
Before he could reach back and try to force it back in with his hand, the sharp glint of light caught his eye sockets and he looked forward.
The clouds unraveled like great folds of a woman's dress to reveal the massive kingdom beneath. It circled his entire area of sight as the impressive walls, watchtowers and barricades stood above the motionless square buildings like everlasting guardians. Lordran itself was composed of three concentric circles, containing different levels of the kingdom within.
The first and lowest circle held an endless field of houses and buildings all pressed together like crowded children, their tiled roofs like old scales on some mythical beast put to sleep centuries ago. Within the central circle was a flush of taller buildings and walkways and areas dotted with foliage that seemed to just fit within the protective barrier of the walls. William knew it to be the Undead Burg, for Firelink sat at the edge of it all, like an outcast child amongst a plethora of spoilt brats. Lastly, above the two rings, like the final tier to a wedding cake, was the final ring. From their position against the cloud cover, Anor Londo seemed to sit above the very sky itself, adorning its sleek buildings and empty corridors with the rays from the sun itself.
It was a beautiful sight to the undeads hollow eyes. One also filled with a modicum of great sadness as he thought of the lore for a change. The sight almost made him want to cry. But then the Raven suddenly let go of both him and he fell like a skinny raindrop and landed on his head. And then he cried.
"Ssss! I swear I'm gonna pluck that ducks feathers off when the time comes." William muttered before glaring up at the bird that casually used the ruins of Firelink temple as its perch.
"Gwyn's might, we're actually here!" Oscar cheered, racing up to William and pulling him to his feet with even more nauseating exuberance. The thief's impression of the Astorian began to shift drastically as he watched the knight hop around in excitement, like a child in an amusement park. Perhaps the devs shouldn't have cut him from the final render of the game. Just look at how effervescent he seemed. And in heavy-ass armor to boot. His stamina must have been off the charts.
Taking a moment to get his bearings, William looked around Firelink with as much nostalgia as a blind mouse. Although he was inspired by the sight of the place in real-life, the fact that he had over a few thousand hours invested into visiting the same haven did much to underwhelm the experience. He silently cursed his addiction to gaming before he spotted a bloated corpse half thrown over a dry water well. Without much to really do, he walked up to it and began to search it.
"Not this again." William rolled his eyes as Oscar's voice scolded him from a few feet away as he picked up two sprites of humanity. He turned around and displayed the fruits of his labor to his companion and was greeted with pleasant silence. William smiled.
" Finally, the inane ramblings of a nobody has ceased." The Crestfallen Warrior sighed out dramatically before he cast his bored gaze their way. William frowned. He had forgotten he was there.
The undead sat against a broken piece of stonework as usual, but his appearance was vastly different than the game's depiction. His short hair was actually colored a sandy brown, his face held light stubble that accentuated his square jaw and his dull eyes were, for a change, filed with life as he glared at Oscar for disturbing the peace.
"I beg your pardon, sir, but I am not a nobody." The knight argued back and the man merely grunted back in reply, finding this conversation as uninteresting as the ants crawling through the grass.
"Maybe not at this point, but soon we all become nothing but hollowed husks." William raised a hairless eyebrow at his intensely depressing (and perfectly accurate) response. Well at least his voice sounded the same.
"Even so, I am known as Oscar." The knight said, reaching out his arm to shake hands with the morbid fellow. "What are you known as?"
The Crestfallen Warrior sighed out gruffly, as if just listening to the Astorian speak was taxing on his body, before brushing him off.
"I am nameless, as you will be once you learn to survive in this decrepit kingdom."
Oscar took a step back in confusion whilst William placed a hand under his chin in thought. Whilst the guy seemed to hate the space Oscar took up near his personal bubble, he did well to warn the both of them with his downcast chatter. Who knew he could be that caring?
"Anyways," he yawned out, "since you're here, I might as well tell you the same thing I've told every other foolhardy newcomer. So… have a seat. You might as well."
Oscar did so and the Crestfallen Warrior shifted slightly just as William was coming down the main stairway, pocketing a few firebombs from their usual spot. He had heard that introduction millions, if not billions of times now. No way was he going to sit through another.
So instead he walked toward the water-logged shrine, turned left and collected the bundle of souls he knew would be hidden behind a broken pillar. William gazed out at the other shining orb of soul energy nestled comfortably next to a pair of scattered human bones and snorted. It was a classic trap, one he had fallen for many times in the past thinking that if he were fast enough, he could survive getting shanked by a rusty scimitar. Those had been fun times. Days whereby he couldn't feel the 101 deaths that pair of skeledicks had caused him. Now, he was more inclined to ignore anything shiny, because his days acting like a gullible fly before a fly-zapper were over now that he had been placed into the real setting.
Stalking up the short flight of stairs leading to the second floor of the shrine, William had to lean against the frame of the building for a moment to catch his breath. It seemed even hollow; his stamina was worthless. Just like the sorcerer-build. He hated mages. How could he not when they stood afar like pathetic characters from a J.K. Rowling novel? But at least they didn't use actual wands to cast spells like the pathetic characters from a J.K. Rowling novel. He hated wands and J.K. Rowling ever since he went onto Pottermore and the site had made him a Gryffindor instead of a Ravenclaw. Bloody questionnaires.
His thoughts thoroughly left his mind, however; when the sensation of something warm and wet spontaneously slapped him on the shoulder… before proceeding to crawl down his back like some lethargic goo.
William didn't bother to place a hand on it to know it was not something pleasant. So he lifted his head up and his assumption had grown to become truth: the damn Raven had taken a dump on him.
Feeling his lip curl in repulsion, the Thief watched the bird's great anus contract and widen before it ejected another splash of white onto his head. William calmly walked through the entrance of the shrine and stood atop a ledge before turning around to stare at the gargantuan avian as fresh gunk oozed down his wrinkled jaw.
The Raven stared back at him, emotionlessly, and he stared back, a deadpan expression on his face before he withdrew a firebomb from one of his many pockets and casually flung it at the things face.
The shattering of the clay shell, the ignition of flammable powder and the stench of oily wings burning to a crisp as the ugly monstrosity cawed in fright was one of the most beautiful things his earless ears had ever heard. Until the Raven had pecked at his chest and sent him tumbling into the water below, that is.
William splashed about in the stagnant water that was, surprisingly, clean before he saw the bird angrily flap its wings and fly off. He scoffed and raised a crooked middle finger at it in reply to its screeching.
"Up yours, ya' feathered fu-"
"There you are!" Oscar chirped more energetically than a horny virgin with an escort. "We don't have the time for swimming, I say. The fellow near the bonfire just alerted me that there are two Bells of Awakening that need to be rung. Time is of the essence, and we need to make it a good distance before the sun goes… what is that white stuff coating your head like a cap?"
William raised a hand to touch his head and groaned before ducking his head under the water and vigorously scrubbing his scalp. Oscar tutted.
"Enough of that now. We can worry about bathing after you've fixed that face of yours." He grabbed William by the arm before dragging him toward the bonfire.
"Dammit, Oscar, let me go already, I've still got some of that stuff under my clothing!"
"Then you can wash it off after you've regained your humanity." He replied sternly before gripping his arm tighter. William groaned out as he felt the remainder squelch between his shoulder blades. This was not how he envisioned spending his undead life alongside a naïve knight.
Just then, Oscar turned his helmet back to him. "And maybe after that, you can share some of that shampoo you're using with me as well!"
The Thief corrected himself. This was not how envisioned spending his undead life alongside a naïve, and idiotic knight.
Man, this style of writing is really different from my usual stuff. But if it makes someone laugh, who cares?
And no, I don't hate J.K. Rowling. I like her work. Why would you even care if I didn't?