Isekai'd, My Posterior!
Ah, back in the sea of imagination. How splendid. Oh, and thank you for the flames XD.
Summons. A vast array of varying races of humanoid beings that contained many varying shades and colors according to what crystal, item, shriveled body part or spell circle one drew to apport them to join your merry cause.
Yes, the strapping enticement of multiplayer for those that wanted that moral support before getting their ligaments torn open and ganked by the Four Kings on a rainy Tuesday. It was a wondrous addition to the unforgiving world of Dark Souls, filled with naked Flintstone players, cocky Giantdad's and moms, the lovely appearance of overweight Vagrants and the some of the best memes ever to grace the front page of a subreddit server.
Personally, William decided not to bother with the hubbub of having an annoying gesturing cunt to follow him around before stealing his kill when he was going up against a particularly stubborn boss. On the flipside, whenever he did decide to summon a phantom to his individual realm compressed into his PC, it was and always would be an ascian being with the preferred shade of glassy crimson. After all, what was better for a lone wolf like himself than backstabbing glitch exploiting bastard's one at a time in the coliseum of Oolacile, like he was Yuuki from SAO itching to wipe the floor with overcompensating scrubs in Giant Sentinel Armor.
In truth, the human-turned-undead disliked communication of any kind, and when it came to playing his favorite games, he opted to go it alone. Despite the unexpected bout of verbal diarrhea he had been exhibiting from the time he had met various NPC's, the fact remained that William was a loner – and he wore it proudly, like a horny husband with a hall pass to bang his wife's busty best friend.
That being said, things were startling more different that they had been long ago. And one of the most shocking changes he had faced head-to-head was that he, as a veteran of Miyazaki's Fun Dungeon, could not beat this game alone.
Which was why Oscar was with him.
Although he enjoyed the comedy the knight's stupidity brought to their undynamic duo, William had formed a partial soft spot in his black heart for the Astorian. Additionally, after the recent events of running for their lives, being trapped in death mazes and enduring the Thorolund Historical Inquisition of Cuckoldom Cur's – otherwise known as Team THICC – the pair of Chosen Undead had created quite the bond of merry Manship.
In fact, right this very moment Oscar was inquiring as to what in the hillbilly the soapstone message meant in front of them, as they stood before the massive tome of unexplored Lore known as the Undead Burg.
"Imminent Jump."
"Hmm, do you think we should hop over this barricade?" the Knight questioned to a daydreaming William.
"Go ahead. I'll let you catch up to me in the upper levels when you're reborn half-hollow in Firelink."
"So, you don't think I should jump then?" Oscar tilted his head to the side in confusion. "I'm truly unsure."
William sighed out. "I think you should question what you've been doing with your life before you became undead-"
"Well, I was a scholar of woodwork when I was a squire in Astora-"
"-in your mind-"
"Alright, thinking away."
"-before then coming to the crossroads of whether your next decision will elevate or plummet you even further into the pathetic-ness of your current pathology."
Oscar weighed his friend's words for a minute before looking at the message engraved onto the floor and nodding his head.
"Right then. I'm going to try jumping off this high wall," he said, and began stomping toward the decayed stone with vigor. As much as William wouldn't have minded seeing his idiot successor go hollow from idiocy, they still had a bell to ring and two of the more difficult Lord Souls to acquire.
"Slow your role, dimwit." William said, yanking the knight back. "how's about you just stand next to me and take in this view first."
He slung an arm over Oscar's shoulders and looked up at the homes dotting the T's and crossing the I's of the Lower Burg. All was still. All was calm. For a moment, William forgot the impending doom they were fighting against. Then he got a whiff of the intense onions and fungi populating Oscar's underarms and he had to take a step back for fresh air.
Except there was no fresh air. The Lower Burg stank juts as bad due to the mountains of carcasses of fallen undead pilled up and burnt alive to corrode the sky with never ending black soot. Then again… anything was better than having to sniff whatever was going on under the Astorian's greasy coif.
"Aw, is hugging time over?" Oscar said softly and William could swear he was pouting under his helm.
"When's the last time you shaved your armpits?" William asked cautiously. Oscar merely looked up at him and said nothing – which was the universal sign to show the idiot was confounded yet again.
"Shave? Why would I need to do that?"
"Oh, for the love of bedding a succubus, tell me you didn't just ask me that?"
Oscar shrugged. "Some Astorian's take vows to never shave or trim the hair grown on our bodies as a sign of our connection with the forests that provided for us and the world that grew us. I am one of those few devotees."
The silver-haired undeads face soured. Just perfect. He was stuck with one of the only Astorian living that had agreed to be a sixties hippie living in Californian humidity. Why didn't the Isekai dolt of this world have to torture him? The only significant sins he had accomplished was smearing wet cat shit on an annoying Karen's car windscreen when she had tried stealing the cat he was taking for a walk because the fluffy Persian was 'giving her illegal bedroom eyes'. And people called him a furry for liking the sexy wolf girl from the underrated anime, Redo of Healer.
"So, why are we still standing here? Shouldn't we advance into the Burg?"
"We're waiting." William stated.
"What for?"
"The imminent jump." William replied.
"What imminent jump?" Oscar asked.
And then the Hellkite Drake smashed into the walkway before them, roaring like a drugged moose in heat.
" AAAAAHHHHH!!!!" Oscar shrieked like a girl and fell on his ass before scooting backwards. It was funny. The Astorian looked just like that terrified party teen from Scream.
The drake itself looked much, much larger compared to what William assumed a drake to look like. Its scales were a vibrant red, glistening like a thick cut of lean beef. He could tell a normal sword couldn't be enough to scratch it, using an axe would just piss it off. Its tail was slender and long, nice enough for him to fashion a good longsword out of. He couldn't wait to make Oscar kill it for him.
The great pest gave them a side glance before snorting through its big ass nostrils and flapping its massive wings that sent shudders through the air as it took off – flying up and into the horizon like a glittering crimson butterfly.
When the loud wind has ceased and the sonic tremors in the air regulated William's hearing enough to register the panting of his comrade, he looked down and to his left to see the Astorian with his hand over his breastplate.
"Oh," Oscar said. " that imminent jump."
Oscar simply smiled and hoisted the undead up. They walked a good distance from the ascending staircase they had arrived from and into a more open space before William registered the sound of a dull thrum echoing a few meters ahead of them.
"Uh, William." Oscar questioned once again.
"William? Who's that? Pretend I'm not home."
"Okay… but why are you taking cover behind me? Are we in danger?"
"Hm? Oh, of course not." William reassured him.
And then an arrow smacked into Oscar's helm and he fell backward. William caught him before grabbing his shoulders and steering his fumbling legs forward toward the group of hollows staring at them expectantly.
"At least for me, that is."
And that was how they found themselves outside a cool balcony overlooking the moss covered underpass of the lowest part of the Undead Burg – With Oscar mumbling incoherently on the floor, pikes, arrows and a broken sword hilt sticking out of his punctured armor like he was metallic porcupine; whilst William stood above him, pouring and entire flask of Estus down his throat, as he turned to a strange fellow dressed in rags that smelt like century-old rotting road kill.
"Well now, you seem to have your wits about you, hmm?" said the Undead Merchant. William smiled sweetly. This guy had no idea.
Word Bank
1. Ascian – (n.) a person who has no shadow.
Personally, I spam the infinite souls' glitch. It's kinda liberating to walk around with 99 humanity, get invaded, and beat that phantom's ass to grass just because you can, ya' know?