Isekai'd, My Posterior!

Anyone else check out that Elden Ring closed server beta test? I swear I nearly wet myself when I exited that cave and saw the Eldtree. And fighting the Tree Sentinel casually trotting around was just dope. Damn, can't believe it's finally here- well, almost here.

"Wait, lemme get this straight; the whole reason you got jailed in a cannibal wine cellar under a township infested with surprisingly civil hollow's, was because you were looking for somewhere nice to meditate?"

Laurentius chuckled sheepishly as he scratched his beard, "Well, when you say it like that, I seem like a complete eejit."

"Right," William deadpanned as he wiped and sheathed his sword, "as if that wasn't my first impression the moment I saw you squeal like a girl at the sight of a blubber-headed butcher."

"In all fairness, that plonker 'ad me tortured maybe five times a day just so that I stayed prickly fer peeling."

"Peeling?" the Thief iterated as they hopped over another large grate that most likely led to a pipeline that ran deeper than the fricken San Andreas fault line.

"The bastard wanted me skin!" the Pyromancer exclaimed, smacking a fist against his palm for effect. "And not just that, I 'eard them talking. Apparently undead meat tastes better when it's in a state of fear. Bizarre psycho's is what they are, arguing about which wooden doll they'd wrap me dry husk over, 'n stud marbles in to resemble eyes! Can you imagine?"

"Hmm, cannibals that practice taxidermy," William cupped his chin thoughtfully, "how noble. It's as if I never left home in the first place."

"What's that about taxes? I didn't realize Lordran was still moderately functional." Laurentius quirked up, his countenance shifting to worry faster than a hooker putting her clothes back on. "I should be smart and 'ide the Mothweed I brought with me from the Great Swamp," he mumbled insightfully.

Whilst the bearded gypsy antagonized on the possibility that a domain lacking official forces and a stable bureaucracy could drain the souls in his account, William analyzed their current situation carefully – fine combing through the details to find any bloodsucking ticks he may have missed.

So far, the Depths had been everything he had expected – save for the smell, that had been worse than that time his uncle's face ulcer had exploded and fell into his open mouth. Who knew that skin cancer could taste like a coagulated cyst filled with acidic tapeworms? Now it made sense why his tastebuds didn't work right when he ate sushi. And why his right nostril drooped the way it did before he was teleported by a no-face god that didn't know how to use plot armor properly.

Regarding the list of issues staring him in the face like swollen red warts on a giant pecker he called his daily life, he was beginning to grow a smidge anxious. The pathways and tunnels they had been traversing thus far swerved inward like a converging web that led to nothing. Out of the many ambushes the two of them had endured, mostly caused by humungous rats travelling in packs of four, there seemed to be pattern of assault – leading to a ten-minute interval of peace between each one. So aside from being run ragged by hairy snake food that wanted to make pretty chalices from their perforated skulls, there was the glaring assurance that something or someone was going Hunger Games on their asses. Which really sucked because The Purge: Anarchy had been so much better.

And to add to the growing series of unfortunate events William had to live through – because revoking your Chosen status just meant the entire WORLD was going to shit on you for kicks– the Thief had a sneaking suspicion that they were being followed.

His black eyes darted to the side as they dropped down from a ledge into a wide area of waist-high sludge. The hunched shadow that ducked back into its tunnel the moment William felt a human femur poke him in the junk only aided in reaffirming his assumption.

There was no suspicion anymore, they were definitely being followed.

"Aw, yuck!" William turned his head to his ginger-haired friend and saw him pull a disgusted face at the bobbing feces bumping against his person. "This isn't going to wash off," he whined and saw the Thief roll his eyes, "what? We're walking in a kingdom's unmentionable deposits like it's nothing. I for one, am not thrilled by the prospect of dancing inside another lad's bodily fluids."

"And you think I am?" William asked dryly, holding his sword above his head. "By the time we're done in this literal crap-hole, I'm going to have to burn my clothes to ash, maybe even half of my hair. Believe me when I say the feeling is absolutely mutual."

The undead shivered when he stepped on something soft and squishy under the water but moved on without so much as a fuss. All this would be worth it, he promised himself. If he could keep his cool for just a while longer, they could nab the smithing ember and collect that treasure the other undead were talking about before snapping a Homeward Bone outta here. But until they even caught sight of a chest he dearly hoped was not a Mimic in disguise, he would reluctantly clamp his mouth shut and wear his big-boy thong proudly.

"Besides, it's because of your dumbass that we even went in this deep."

"Hehe, that's what she said."

William growled before thumping the Pyromancer with the hilt of his blade.

"Ouch!"

He admitted, Laurentius was a total nimrod better left to go hollow in a cask overflowing with termites; however, the man seemed almost unnervingly precise when it came to navigating their way around this place. William was thoroughly impressed – despite the background phase of anger he held for the undead for not stopping to use his big ugly head for a change – by his ability to move around so easily. Sure, the concurrent jump scare's courtesy of soaking rodents was a massive pain in the ass, but then again, the fact that they were already eight levels deeper into the Depths and they hadn't even walked into a dead end yet… meant that his boy had some skill. William was personally gushing over that fact. He liked Laurentius, he just hoped that Oscar's brand of stupid wouldn't rub off on the fellow like it did everything else the knight put his hands on. That reminded him, he needed to get back to Oscar and Solaire after they escaped this cesspool. The next bell was just around the corner and William did not want to delay it in its ringing. The sooner they reached Gwyn's old keep, the sooner the Thief could bask in fake sunshine, sipping down Estus whilst he watched his oblivious Astorian partner get ganked by squads of Silver Knights ad infinitum.

"Say, how do you know this place so well?" William asked the Pyromancer, who was currently guiding them out of a particularly dark passage with his glove burning as an impromptu torch.

"Huh?" Laurentius looked back at him curiously before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know this place at all."

"Well, that's obvious enough. We would be in the Lower Burg by now if you did." William stated, ducking under a pipe dripping with murky liquid he refused to examine. "I'm talking about how to seem to know the layout of the Depths like the back of your hand."

"Ohhh," the undead tapped his forehead in understanding, "I 'ave a map."

William jerked back in outrage. "Why the hell didn't you say so sooner then?! We could have escaped this place ages ago, dammit."

Laurentius contrarily waved a finger in front of his face. The Thief had half the mind to bite the appendage off.

"That's what I'm trying to get at, mate. The maps in me 'ead." He tapped his temple with the same finger. "I 'ad it committed to memory before I came down into the Depths. Why, the reason we're even going into the lower levels is because I know a safe spot."

"And that would be?" the Thief asked skeptically.

"Nowhere special," they reached the light at the end of the tunnel and the Pyromancer snuffed out the flame in his right hand, "it's just the treasure trove."

Like a gold digger after a billionaire's fortunes on his death bed, William's eyes grew to the size of Celtic dinner plates.

"You mean there's an actual treasure room in this reeking rut?"

" 'Course there is. That is why you came down 'ere, wasn't it?" William looked at the undead winking at him shrewdly. "You're after that chest everyone in the black market's been yammering about."

This time, it was the Thief's turn to frown in confusion. How the hell had he known-

"Hah! Word still reached me whilst I was locked up, unable to even go to the John. Folks up there said a lot 'bout you as well."

"Oh yeah?" William's eyes glinted with interest. "What kind of things?"

"Ugh, nothin' that special," the Pyromancer waved his hand dismissively, "but it is strange, y' know. Can't really wrap me head around why an ally of the Chosen Undead would want to part ways mid journey."

Ah. So, the bristling badger knew all along, did he?

William smirked in response, slipping the uchigatana back into his belt. Really, he should have expected this. Like almost every other NPC on this floating rock, both known and unknown, Laurentius probably also had access to this wealth of knowledge stored within the invisible web-chain known as the Black Market. Thinking back on it now, the Thief supposed that like the ability of invulnerability certain immovable objects possessed – the Dragontooth an inclusive exception – this previously un-canonic addition to the real-life render of Dark Souls was something he as a literal player couldn't commune with.

Which, when he really thought about it wasn't as bad as he assumed it was. Sure, there could be countless foes, phantoms, wraiths, invaders and particularly dismal NPC's that could use this bingo book of information against him in his future endeavors. What's more, his plans to carry Oscar to the top of the food chain could potentially backfire should there be an individual that thought on a similar brain frequency as himself. All things considered; the Thief considered that an annoying pain in the ass if it came to pass.

On the flipside, however, the undead could actually use this inaccessible sea of wisdom brokerage to his advantage. He could still bend the rules by finding a loophole to gain access to it, should he be in a scenario whereby his back was slammed up against a wall, like some googly-eyed chick with glasses in a teens K-Drama. The only thing he would need to really achieve this goal, would be a gullible third party.

"Ehh… William," Laurentius waved a hand in front of the pale-haired undeads unblinking face, "you there, mate?"

Oscar was out of the question since he was William's scapegoat as the Chosen One, thus the shady dealers would be less likely to open their doors to the savior of the world. If that was the case, the requirements needed to be narrowed down to someone just slightly smarter than the Astorian, but still as dimwitted as the knight was normally. One that could also be inspired to do what was asked of them with an application of a little fear or buttering up to break their flimsy sense of security.

"William," the Pyromancer shook him by the shoulder, causing the Thief to plant his black eyes on the bearded Swamp-dweller, who stared back with a look of worry in his eye. "Wake up, would you? I was beginnin' to think you went 'ollow on me."

William blinked at him blankly. Before a smile began to grow on his face. A creepy one. One so repugnant, Laurentius' primal instinct warned him to take a step back and make a run for it before he landed himself in a precarious situation too prickly to escape from.

Unfortunately for Laurentius, he wasn't smart enough to understand what he needed to run from. Or why pensive buffoons that suddenly cackled for no reason were the worst types of people one could ever come across.

"You are indeed correct, my freckled friend," the Thief burst out in an almost sing-song voice as he wrapped an arm round the back of Laurentius' neck, "departing from the oh-so-brilliant Chosen Undead was a foolish act on my part. But rest assured, I look my leave from the sweet-smelling manliness of Oscar for his own good!"

Really, the ginger had no idea how honestly truthful his last statement was.

Laurentius cocked his head to the side as he weighed his friend and savior's words. "So 'is name is Oscar, 'ey? Sounds almost regal, e does."

"Oh, he is," William lied, "graceful too. The very epitome of what any Chosen Undead should be." He slapped the man on the back as they approached a descending grate, roaring water into a pool not twelve paces away. Beside it sat a pathway that seemed to lead into a labyrinth of different twists and turns, a small trench cut into the center of the path to resemble some Spartan-inspired design. "Mighty is he, that we've actually rung one of the two Bells of Awakening."

"Yeah, I 'eard something resembling a bell ding from the surface a few days ago." Laurentius confirmed, nodding slowly as he matched the Thief's explanation with how own findings. So far, everything was going great. "Apparently, the two of you went down into Blighttown and actually survived."

William brushed a hand down his soaked body in response. "Does it look like I'm rotting in a ditch somewhere for blood spitting mosquitoes to harvest their eggs in a hole cut into my open stomach?"

"Well, no. It'd be disturbing if you were."

"Then besides our outright stubbornness to the ass-ugly creatures that squat there in the mud, let me tell you what else we found," William internally screamed when he noticed his words catching the undeads attention. He knew this was the money shot, a few more words and Laurentius would be glued to him more than Oscar was whenever the procrastinating pleb was scared of walking around in the dark. Thankfully, what he was about to reveal held untold levels of favor for William now that he had the perfect specimen to brainwash. Oh, how those days of learning psychological tactics on online forums like Quora were finally beginning to pay off.

"Now, what I'm about to tell you is need-to-know confidential information, Laurentius." The silver-haired undead whispered, despite the fact that no other humanoid being was present.

"How confidential are we talkin'?" The Pyromancer took the bait and leaned his head in closer. William grinned like a sweaty stalker on a Shinkansen talking upskirt panty shots with an outdated polaroid.

"This is most definitely info your infamous Black Market hasn't even gotten their grubby hands on." Laurentius' eyes widened to the side of dinner plates. "Else they would have already done what Oscar and I did ages ago."

"What was it you found?" he asked eagerly. William motioned with a finger for him to come closer and the Pyromancer complied. He then placed his mouth next to his comrade's ear before whispering it out.

"The entrance to the Lost city of Izalith." He felt the undead stiffen immediately and cupped his free hand over the ginger's ear to relay the next devastating bit of news. "Amongst it, however, we found something even greater. Something that could very well shake the foundations of current day Lordran as we know it."

The Pyromancer looked at him with awe in his eyes. "W-What could be greater than finding the cradle of Pyromancy?"

"The last four surviving Daughters of Chaos. Including Quelana of Izalith herself."

Laurentius snapped back like rubber band on a bodacious bosom, his mouth open to exclaim his joy when William slapped a hand against his face and muffled his girlish squeal – forcing it to come out like a painful moan caused by a particularly thorough deepthroating.

"You cannot tell anyone about this, do I make myself clear?" William warned and was met with a vigorous nodding of the head. The Thief's shoulders dropped in relief. "Good. Now then, as a Pyromancer, you'd probably want to head over there right this minute in order to get an autograph with the very Milf- I mean Mother of Pyromancy herself, yeah?"

Another uncontrollable nod of the head that made Laurentius look like a drenched golden retriever. William lifted his hand from the undeads slobbering mouth and continued.

"And that's all well and fine. Truth be told, you've been such a good sport that I was thinking of taking you there regardless."

Laurentius gasped in disbelief. "YOU WERE?!"

William gave a sagely nod. "Indeed. But first, I need your help with a few things. First and foremost, someone to initiate me into the brotherhood of Pyroman-"

"I'll do it!" the Swamp-dweller sputtered out his consent before William could even finish. Before his face took on that confused dog look it did occasionally. "But wait… why ask me to gift ya' a Pyromancy flame if Lady Quelana herself could do it?"

The Thief laid his hand on Laurentius' shoulder and patted him gently, closing his eyes as if reveling in his partner's naivety. "You're not thinking straight. Yes, the pupilage from an Original is far greater than the teachings of a Pyromancer of the common age, but you don't see the bigger picture here."

"Which is?"

"That the potential of a bond between undead before the induction of an ancient drastically outweighs a direct tutoring from the source."

And he wouldn't be lying. The ability to channel Chaos Flame made you a danger to the very gods themselves. It was the same power that Quemera used to almost perfectly replicate the First Flame, after all. Gwyn and his posse had a right to fear such potential. However, an even more devastating force to be reckoned with was the power of those that came after the initial creators were long gone. Undead were a different breed of human, capable of accomplishing many an impossible feat due to the gift and curse of imperfect immortality. One of the prime examples was Big Hat Logan, a prodigy in his humanity, only to become a legend in his undeath – with the power to possibly one-shot Gwyn in his prime with enough time to learn and harness his talent of Soul Sorcery. The same went for Salaman, and then Carmina thereafter. All these undead that took the prospect of magic and churned out power that their predecessors never saw coming. With that in mind, gaining a flame from another undead, and then learning the craft of flame manipulation by the very creator of said skill… why, it would birth a monster of a being not even the Abyss could corrupt. Mamelord Miyazaki didn't know how brilliant the concept of Pyromancy really was the day he decided to write it down.

Even Laurentius, in all his usual obliviousness could come to the same conclusion.

"Bloody 'ell, yer right!" he said, grabbing at his head in indignation. He was probably wondering why he hadn't thought about this himself, to which William gave a cocky smile. It took a certain kind of obsessed Pepsi-drinker to dive into the simplicity of flavor text at three in the morning and create a confusing, yet startling revelation an entire sub-reddit would craze over.

"So, you and I have a deal then?" William asked cautiously.

"You bet yer hairless rump we do!" the undead exclaimed and stepped forward to grasp William's right hand when the Thief stopped him.

"Not here, big guy. We can start my initiation when we reach the surface."

Laurentius looked at him for a moment, before his head gained some clarity, and he nodded his head slowly. "Right then, what else do yer need from me?"

"You catch on fast; I appreciate that." William smiled before pointing down the passageway to their right. "You said that you had a map of this place engrained into your skull. You also mentioned that you knew the reason for my exploration of the less than homely Depths, meaning that you must know the location of where the chest is located."

"That I do, mate." Laurentius proudly thumped his chest.

"Excellent. I need you to grab it."

"What about you, then?" the undead leveled a concerned look at William that made his stomach flutter slightly. It was so nice being around Laurentius. He treated him like a bro, something the Thief had been missing since travelling with a troublemaking Astorian that only made him leap to his death in nearly every setting they stepped foot in.

"I'll wait here. Having me follow would just waste time. I'm going to start heading back up to the surface. There's a smithing ember those butchers have locked in their possession."

Laurentius nodded in understanding. The silver-haired undead reached into a pouch and handed him an ivory fingerbone. "If you can't find me when you get back, use this to get to Firelink Shrine. We'll rendezvous there."

"I'll see you in a bit," he said before running off.

William watched him disappear into the dark corners of the Depths. Before long, his footsteps reached out of the undeads earshot, and he sighed out deeply. He had gained another trustworthy ally. One he could also exploit for Black Market info when the going got tough. In all honestly, William didn't even know if he would need so many alternatives to fall back on, however, the OCD working in his head demanded that he made unnecessary precautions. In a land as unforgiving as Miley Cyrus's hairstyle, there was no telling what could and couldn't happen.

Like the current problem he decided to face head on.

The Thief rolled his shoulders, unsheathing his primary weapon slowly – allowing the folded steel to grind loudly against the alloy of its sheath. The sound bounced around the open area he was standing in, going as far as to make the pool behind him ripple before his eyes found a familiar shadow creeping out from the corridor that he and Laurentius had previously come from.

"There you are, you relentless twat."

His ears picked up on the repetitive clicking coming from his would-be stalker as the shadow grew in size as the being advanced upon him. Part of the reason he had sent Laurentius sprinting away was to create distance between him and William's foe. For one, it wouldn't be favorable for whatever was following them to spook the Pyromancer into fleeting for the second time. Additionally, the leather-clad undead preferred to face his own battles head on with what perks he could use, instead of dicking out like some coward – to which William most certainly was. But for the sake of his new comrade, he had to look at least a little bit cool.

"Come out and face me already, I've had it up to here with that inane click-clacking you constantly make from your disfigured mouth. Or it is it just the sound of your ass cheeks clapping as you walk around? In either case, let's end this love confession of yours so that I can reach fresh air, wash this crap out of my hair, visit a Milf and possibly pop a million-year-old cherry."

Ask and it shall be given, was the thought that entered William's head as the individual that had been following him finally came out of hiding. However, the saying 'be careful what you wish for', followed by the iconic case of Occam's Razor, and amplified by the legendary phrase: 'Karma's a bitch', quickly merged into the unholy realization that the 'individual' that was stalking William and Laurentius, was actually a group of individuals that scurried out of the shadows like demons out of Izalith – making the blood drain from the undeads already pale face.

There, standing in a semi-circle around William, clicking like freaking crickets in mating amidst the bubbling swamps they inhabited, stood the long, black, spike-backed, rubber limbed and nightmarish visages of the creatures of Dark Souls horror that had cause more than a billion rage quits and controller breakages.

Yes, surely; they stood like harbingers of misery, their abnormal and nauseating orange eyeballs staring at William as if he were a female amongst their sausage party.

The funniest and most ironic part about all this was that those massive eyes that served as second and third heads, weren't actually their eyes. No, the eyes of a basilisk were actually located right above their wide mouths – filled with razor-sharp and glistening teeth. And what an atrocious picture those real faces really depicted.

The undeads legs quivered as the six basilisks that had been tailing him began to hiss and click together in unison, drowning out the sounds of roaring water with a terrifying symphony of death and tragedy.

It was a no-brainer. William was definitely going to die.

Unsurprisingly, I am one of those weirdos that starts cackling in public spaces randomly. Can't help it really. Most of the time I just think of really funny jokes, and it cracks me up.