Summary: Ornstein listens in as the Chosen Undead tells the tale of his adventure so far.
Ornstein had laid down back in his bed, arm folding in front of his chest, carefully to not upset the wound on his chest. He was grumpily staring at the table where this so called Chosen Undead sat together with Gwyndolin, they even had placed a cup of tea in front of him, occasionally sipping at one of their own. Ornstein noticed a cup of tea for him out of the corner of his eyes on the night stand, probably his medicine, but he didn't want to take it yet. He didn't want to leave his eyes off the Undead, he still didn't trust him one bit.
The Chosen Undead had been talking for a while now... Ornstein decided to listen in, it wasn't like he had anything better to do.
"So after I finally made it through all that hollows in the Undead burg, suddenly a giant demon came jumping down from above and before I even knew it, I awoke at the bonfire. And had to go through this nightmare again.", he said. "I can't count how many times I awoke at this bonfire until I finally noticed that I could use the ladder there to my advantage. But one time I was too slow and that thing actually jumped up there and knocked me right off the tower. Dying like this really hurts, you know."
Ornstein could see how Gwyndolin's face turned into some kind of pained smile, as if they were feeling really uncomfortable. He balled his fists under the blanket. How could this human even think about making Gwyndolin feel bad?
"I managed eventually, but only to get burned to a crisp by a freaking drake. Wasn't it his job to get rid of them?" The Undead pointed at Ornstein.
"I was fighting dragons for your interest.", Ornstein immediately said. "Dealing with drakes really isn't any trouble at all, anyone even remotely talented in fighting should be able to do that." It was unbelievable that he lost to a human who hasn't even been able to kill a mere drake.
"Well, maybe you are more skilled and used to fight things that can fly and breath fire and are like ten times my size.", the Undead blurted out.
Ornstein already had a quip on his lips, but was interrupted by Gwyndolin.
"Would you please not start to fight and would you just continue your story?", they asked. They had dropped the ancient speak of the gods after the Undead had said that he nearly didn't had a clue what they were trying to say. Another hint of how pathetic he actually was.
"Sorry. So, I managed it to make it beyond the drake eventually and then there were hollows again, so many hollows... I still don't know how I actually made it through them. When I found a way back to Fire Link Shrine, that felt like finding a oasis in the desert. Or it must have felt like it, I am pretty sure I have never been to a desert before." A nervous laugh sounded.
"And.. and then? A Gargoyle. Which wasn't even that bad, if you don't take the fact in account the battle took place hundreds of meters above the ground on a roof. Actually quite manageable... until the second one showed up! Didn't you think one beast was enough to guard the bell? Why did it have to be two? It took me days to get past them!"
"Come on, the gargoyles attack in very predictable patterns and one of them breathes fire a lot, which gives you a perfect attack window. These two are hardly a challenge.", Ornstein commented from his bed.
The head of the Undead jerked in his direction, Ornstein had the feeling he was glaring at him, but he was too far away to actually see the face, which was still framed by the helmet, only the visor was up. At least the Undead seemed to have turned into a human form, it would have been awfully rude to step in front of Gwyndolin in his hollowed out form.
"Oh, where was I? Ah yes, after the Gargoyles I first hadn't a clue where to go. And even the other Undead hanging around Fire Link Shrine weren't of any help. One of them was more interested in me telling to hunt down other Undead for humanity, made me kinda regret I unlocked him from the cell. And that strange crestfallen guy only seemed to be mad cause I rang the first bell. I then finally found a door that would unlock with a key I found in the parish. It only let me to the worst mauling of two dogs and a goat like demon I have ever witnessed." The Undead took a sip from his tea. "I probably don't have to mention that it hurt. A lot."
"The demons weren't our fault.", Ornstein whispered. "They kinda ran wild after everything went to shit out there."
"Ornstein has a point there.", Gwyndolin said. "They really are just natural predators. Even I didn't knew they wandered that far from Lost Izalith..."
"It's because the black knights aren't there anymore.", Ornstein commented and fell silent again, awaiting the next part of the story.
"Anyway.", the Undead said, taking a deep breath. "That demon had the key for the Depths for some strange reason. It was said that the second bell is down below, so going to the Depths was my best best. At this rate, I was slowly getting used fighting hollows, but having to wade through this hole of human waste wasn't enjoyable, even as an Undead I could smell the rot of that place." Another deep breath. "And this place was a labyrinth. Wasn't that bad until I fell down a hole and was faced with basilisks. And everyone knows the horrors of being cursed. I am glad I made it out there before they were able to put their curse on me. I would have been finished otherwise."
"There are basilisk's in the depth? That doesn't sound right.", Gwyndolin said. "They live in a place far more down below."
"Well, maybe they wandered or something, what do I know?", the Undead proceeded his story. "But this time I found a real dragon in this place. Are you really sure you were doing your job right, sir?", the last word was said in some kind of mocking manner, that made Ornstein fume inside.
"Well, as far as I knew there weren't any dragons left! I would of course have gone and slay them if I had known about it. But hey, great job at slaying it yourself, Chosen Undead.", he tried to put a feeling of spite around every syllable, but especially the last two words.
"I think there has been something wrong with this dragon anyway, it's body was kinda this huuuuge mouth, looked like stuff from nightmares.", the Undead mumbled, completely ignoring Ornstein's last words. "It had swallowed the key to the Blighttown. Luckily it had spat it out when it died, I hadn't been really fond searching for the key in that thing. If it would have even occurred to me. I mean, how mad must someone be to search for a key in a huge dragon with a gaping mouth on his chest?"
"Oh, I don't know, you were mad enough to leave the asylum.", Ornstein said, grinning. The Undead shot him another glare.
"Would you stop this bickering already?", Gwyndolin hissed. "I want to hear the rest of the story and come to a conclusion."
"Sorry Gwyndolin.", Ornstein whispered, but didn't take his eyes off the Undead.
"When I thought what I had to get through this far had been bad, the part that came next was even worse.", the Undead said. "I mean, we all heard the reasons why it was called Blighttown and I was never very keen to go down there, but I had to and it was... my worst nightmare. I spend several weeks there, sometimes not even able to take more a few steps away from the bonfire. I was sure I would hollow down there, but then I made an effort and made it to the bottom. Where I died of poisoning. Even just walking around in the swamp was poisoning my body. And I thought the stench of the depths had been bad."
"Well yes, that place was locked for a reason.", Gwyndolin said and that uncomfortable smile flashed over their face again.
"I managed to make it through and at the end there was this giant spider lady with a flaming sword. That was quite a shock. I mean, it was kinda nice seeing her upper part but as soon as the bottom part started..."
Both Ornstein and Gwyndolin stared in disbelief at the Undead. Ornstein was the one who spoke first: "Quelaag? But what was she doing there? She and her sisters were tasked with looking after Lost Izalith, she shouldn't be in Blighttown."
"Yes, indeed, that is strange...", Gwyndolin muttered. "I am pretty sure I had set up another golem there, reminiscent of the demons spawning from Lost Izalith..."
"So Quelaag is dead?", Ornstein asked. He remembered the witches of Izalith vividly, they often would have visited the cathedral and have been a great force in the dragon war with their pyromancy.
The Undead nodded. "Well, she came after me with a sword and her spider body was puking lava, you bet I was fighting against getting cooked alive.", he said. "But why did you say sisters? There was only one other lady like her and she seemed to be really sick. She was the fire keeper of that place."
"Two have died when the flame incident happened...", Gwyndolin said, "But the others were alive and tasked with keeping an eye on Lost Izalith, mainly helping keeping the demons in check. No wonder they could wander so far when nobody was keeping them at bay anymore... What where Quelaag, Quelaan, Quelana, Quelaria and Quelaxis doing?"
The Chosen Undead clutched his tea cup between his hands and stared from Gwyndolin to Ornstein to Gwyndolin again. "Wait... you didn't knew that? When was the last time you left this city?", he asked.
Ornstein and Gwyndolin glanced at each other. "It has been a while.", they said.
"Well, I have been tasked with looking over the cathedral so I barely left it the last hundred years.", Ornstein muttered, more to himself.
"... Maybe you should put a bit more emphasis on the world outside of this town.", the Undead muttered, clearly intending that no one of them should hear it, but it didn't escape Ornstein's ears.
"So, what happened after you rang the second bell?", Gwyndolin asked.
"I went back to Fire Link Shine first and that was where the first thing happened, that made me feel hopeless...", the Undead said. "The fire was out, I found the corpse of the fire keeper in her cell and all evidence pointed that the man in the strange golden armour did it..."
Gwyndolin huffed. "Killing a fire keeper is a huge crime. I am sure the dark moon blades were on his track immediately.", they said.
"I am not too sure...", the Undead said. "I found him in a different place much later. Anyway, I wanted to move on and the big gate next to the Parish had opened up. Earlier there had been this knight in the onion armour sitting before it, but he was gone. I felt a bit worried and stepped into that fortress only to be impaled by three arrows.", the Undead continued.
"Onion shaped armour? Must have been Catarina.", Ornstein mentioned and then his face split into a grin. "And you are really an idiot if you ran into this obvious trap right away." Ornstein started to relax and grabbed for the cup with his medicine. He didn't had to worry about this incompetent idiot anymore. How did he even make it this far? Must have been poor luck. He zoned out a bit while the Undead told the story about Sen's Fortress, a smile crossing his lips every time the Undead told about running into another obvious trap and he only started to listen intensely again, when the Undead started to talk about Anor Londo.
"And which idea was it to put archer's on that rafters? I completely lost count how many times I was knocked of that roof..."
"32 times.", Ornstein said and then he could feel the gaze of the Undead practically piercing through him.
"Don't tell me you counted that."
"Waiting in that cathedral can be boring, alright?", Ornstein snapped and put his attention back on his tea cup, which he spun in his hands. Counting the times the Undead's fell off the roof had been one of his and Smough's favourite activity. Thinking about his deceased partner hurt greatly though and he stopped spinning the cup, just staring into it instead.
"Oh well.", the Undead said. "After 32 times I finally managed to get past them and the rest of the cathedral felt like, really doable to be honest. I think I finally was getting a grip on this parry thing, that helped with the silver knights."
"They were always too easy to parry.", Ornstein mentioned. "I showed them time and time again... ", Ornstein perfectly knew that this silver knights weren't real anyway, they were just reaminated armour, filled with Gwyndolin's illusionary magic which made them remember how to fight. The last real silver knights had left the cathedral a long time ago.
"And then... well, he and his partner happened.", the Chosen Undead said, pointing at Ornstein once again.
"And I really thought I wouldn't be able to beat them. At first I tried to get the executioner down, but with him around." Another pointed finger at Ornstein, who slowly grew annoyed at this. "It felt pretty much impossible. Lightning bolts from behind, a jumping attack or – and that was the worst – him crossing the whole room in a second stabbing me from behind."
Ornstein grinned. "That was fun.", he said and took the last sip of his medicinal tea.
"Well, eventually I changed my tactic and started to concentrate on the dragon slayer first.", the Undead said.
"I have a name, you know.", Ornstein whispered, too quiet to be heard.
"And it started to work... It took me a long time, I am sure it had been a month or longer, but one day I managed to bring him down. And then the executioner crushed his head." He glanced at Ornstein. "Still don't get how you could survive that."
I wish I hadn't. Ornstein thought.
"Well, the executioner gained some sick lightning powers, but nothing much changed after that. With the last of my Estus I was able to strike him down and then the Princess gave me the lordvessel."
Ornstein's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Smough's death. The Undead couldn't have known how much it hurt him... that was basically Smough's murdered sitting there. Even though they had been fully aware and Ornstein even had expected them to die there, he couldn't help but hold a grudge.
"So why are you here now?", Gwyndolin asked. "You have surpassed Anor Londo and even beat the guardian's of the cathedral, that proves that you are strong enough to take on the four lords."
"It is...", the Undead sighed. "At first I felt ecstatic, but... remember the knight who killed the fire keeper? I found him in Anor Londo, I could invade into his space with some eye orb... and he did put up a really good fight. I managed to win after countless tries, but after I got back I found his armour and it kind of... made me feel uneasy. This guy only tried to serve his goddess and thought he was doing the right thing..."
The Undead sighed heavily: "I felt a bit at a loss and made a trip to the sunlight altar to pray and there was Solaire, but he wasn't jolly as usual but rather sad... That just felt so wrong."
"Solaire, who is that?", Gwyndolin asked.
"Judging from the name and location probably one of the master's sunlight warrior's.", Ornstein said. He started to feel drowsy. Side effect of the medicine.
"Ornstein, you know our laws.", Gwyndolin reminded him.
"I haven't said his name.", Ornstein murmured.
The Chosen Undead just sat there, baffled. "Wait.. you … know him? The sunfirstborn? Whose name was lost to time?"
"We are not speaking about him here.", Gwyndolin said.
"It is for the better, honestly.", Ornstein said, staring at the wall.
"Oh, alright...", the Undead said. "Last there was this crestfallen warrior guy. He suddenly had disappeared from the Fire Link Shrine. I thought he would have finally moved on, but I found him when I tried to enter New Londo... he was hollow and I had to slay him." His gaze was locked on the table. "And that is when I started to doubt. For now, seeing all these others struggle and facing the same hardship as me helped me going on, but seeing them all having given up or even worse things..." He swallowed, it seemed apparent how hard it was for him to admit it.
"I am terribly afraid of the next death. What will happen if I give up after this too? I fear I can't fulfil the mission you gave me.", the Undead finished with a last shaky breath.
"So.", Gwyndolin said. "What you are saying is, that you just need a little bit of support on your journey?"
They glanced over to Ornstein. "Well then, I think I know the right man for this task. He hasn't anything to do right now anyway. Isn't that right, Ornstein?" Their smile was sickeningly sweet.
Ornstein needed a moment to process their words in his drowsy statue. The Undead seemed to need a moment to. Then they both jerked up and shouted in unison: "You can't be serious."
(Author's note: For anyone wondering why Ornstein relaxes midway through and don't think Tempest is a threat anymore, it is, because he easily trusts Gwyndolin to kill him with ease and because he was saying that he would go hollow soon, Ornstein believes that he wouldn't come back after even one death. Also Ornstein, you aren't even interested in the Undead's name? How rude!)