"So... What- Who, rather, are you?"
The Doll sits at the head of the table inside the workshop, sipping tea in her ornate wooden chair. The rest of the odd little group are cluttered around the table, the Hunter and Maria opting to stand, for the lack of chairs. Priscilla's head and shoulders rest across the doorway, her shapely hips unable to fit through. She sips on a large pot of coffee, a taste she had aqquired after she receiving a bag as a wedding gift.
"I am Priscilla," she replies, flashing a tiny-fanged, heartwarming smile to the group.
"And this is my husband, Sær." She gestures to the man petting her tail, which is still crooked from being used as a landing pad. Estus had healed it somewhat, but Priscilla doesn't know when-or where-she can refill it. Best to use it when needed.
"Wait," the Hunter says. "Sayer?"
"Sær," Sær corrects him.
"Sear?" The Doll tilts her head.
"No, Sær."
"See-ar?" The Ashen One asks.
"SÆR! SAY! AIR! SAY-AIR!"
"Air," Maria says. The group stares at her, mouths agape. The silence is broken by peals of deafening, high-pitched laughter from Priscilla, her tail wagging as she gasps for breath. Sær's cheeks grow red, and he reclines against his wife, pulling his hood up.
The group turns to the Fire Keeper and Ashen One. "I am a Firekeeper," she says simply. "It is my duty to tend the flame of Firelink Shrine, and all those within it."
"And you?" Sær asks, turning to the Ashen One. "What is your name?"
The Ashen One blinks. "Name? I... Don't have one," he responds despondently.
The Firekeeper looks at him sadly. She had grown so used to calling him the Ashen One that she had forgotten the affliction that affects all undead: amnesia.
She hugs him from behind. "We'll find your name one day," she whispers. "I promise."
Pump-A-Rum squawks sadly.
The group looks to the Hunter. "Hunter," he mumbles, suddenly self conscious.
"I am Karina," the Doll says loudly. "And this talkative fool is my common-law husband."
Maria steps up next. "My name is Maria. I am the Hunter's best friend and a-"
"-Whore," the Doll interjects. "We are aware.
"You wooden bi-mmph!" Maria's retort is muffled by the Hunter's hand as he drags her out the door. She manages a rude gesture before being pulled away.
The Doll scowls. "Pay no mind to her," she mutters. The others shift uncomfortably.
She turns to the group. "Tell me, what brought you here? These grounds are not easily accessible to most."
"Our friend was carried off by a giant crow," Sær replies. "Last we saw, it was flying past here."
The Doll turns to the Ashen One, tilting her head.
"She fell," he responds.
"She... Fell," the Doll repeats incredulously.
"How dost thou plan on returning whence thou came?" Priscilla asks, giggling as her teeth chatter. The rest look at her with blank stares.
"Sorry. She gets a little loopy when she has coffee," Sær says, sighing fondly. "What she means is, our worlds are clearly meant to be seperate. I have never heard of a place such as this, and it's mere existence shouldn't be possible."
"In a land of beasts and gods, one tends to let things go unquestioned," the Hunter replies. "Man could- and has -drive himself mad trying to find answers to things not meant to be known by mortals."
"But there has to be a reason," Sær retorts. "If one could travel to another world by simply being clumsy, we would have hundreds of cute firekeepers down here." Priscilla's eyes narrow, and she wraps her hands around his waist, dragging him close.
"Not all of us are clumsy," the Firekeeper says indignantly.
"And most of them aren't cute," the Ashen One adds, earning him a slap from his beloved.
The Hunter walks back into the room, panting, his face covered with scratches.
"Alright... What... Do we do?" He wheezes. "We can't just sit idly by while our worlds merge. This time it was just these three. What will happen when all manner of creatures start crossing the borders between worlds?"
Silence hangs in the air as the gravity of the situation presses down on the group. A new manner of monster in a foreign land would wreak havoc. Who is to say that the connection is only limited to three worlds?
"First," Priscilla says quickly, "Wemustfindoutwhy. Speculatingshall- HIC!- Getusnowhere." She clears her throat and takes another sip of coffee.
"Well, we won't learn much here," Sær points out. "Seeing as the Ashen One's world is the highest, we should search there first."
The others nod their assent. "How shall we reach such a place?" The Doll asks. "That is quite an arduous climb. And don't you dare suggest I stay behind," she snaps as the Hunter begins to open his mouth.
"One of us can climb up and send a rope down," the Hunter suggests.
"Ishallgo," Priscilla chatters. She goes to take another sip of coffee, but Sær wrenches the pot from her grasp.
"I think that's enough," he chides as she grabs for it.
"Giiiiiii~ve iiiiiiit~," She whines, outstreching a shaky hand.
Sær ignores her. "I'll go. I prefer dodging to blocking, so I have high endurance."
The others nod their assent once again.
The Doll rummages through a chest, procuring a spiraling dagger with a hole on each side of the crossgaurd. "Plunge this into the tree when you grow weary."
She hands him a sturdy sling made with net. "Fasten this to the right side of the dagger, and take your rest with it. Pull on the left side to unfasten it."
"And take this," the Hunter adds, handing him a vial of deep red blood with a covered syringe attached to the top.
"What is this?" Sær asks.
"The blood of a Cainhurst prostitute. It will increase your stamina when injected.
Sær visilbly recoils. "Are you mad, man?! Inject blood? From a prostitute?! Do you want a bloodborne disease?!"
"And what do you mean by stamina?!" Priscilla chimes in. "My darling would never be unfaithful!"
"Fine, don't take it. Just go," the Hunter says angrily.
Sær heads for the door, only to be stopped by Priscilla. She nuzzles her face into his midsection, purring. She pulls back to rest her forehead against his, and he moves down to give her a loving kiss, the couple embracing warmly.
The rest of the group shifts uncomfortably. The Ashen One nudges the Firekeeper. "Why aren't you that affectionate?"
She slaps him lightly. "You are such an ash."