Chapter 10: Yo Ho, Yo Ho, a Pirate's Life for Me!
Descending from the top took slightly longer than ascending had, mostly because the only way down was through houses and buildings. Many of the stairs on the left most side of the Wharf had either collapsed on been buried by rubble, making it hard to proceed. Erik and Lucatiel were forced to cut through dwellings and hop down ledges to reach the lower levels, and that meant the fighting was more intense. Melee combat in close quarters is hard with a long blade like Lucatiel's, so she had to switch to using a Parrying Dagger as her primary weapon in the cramped spaces they traveled through. Not that it impeded them much.
With the Giant's Ring on Lucatiel's finger, she found herself able to do more with the smaller weapon than she'd originally imagined. It made clearing the way much easier. At one of the buildings the duo rang the bell Gavlan had pointed out. Nothing happened for a while so they'd shrugged and moved on. However, now they saw what the point for the bell was.
Gliding into the harbor was a large ship, with tattered ropes, sails, and flags. It looked like a Varangian pirate ship but upgraded with lots and lots of chains. As the chef and knightess watched the boat draw closer, they saw what it was for. Dozens of Hollows were chained to the sides or stuffed inside cages on the deck, and there were perhaps many more in the hold based on the muffled moans and howls that reverberated from the very depths. Instead of a pirate's flag though the flag it flew bore the symbol of Vendrick; a large tree with a blazing fire clutched in its roots. Was this what had been used to corral and transport the Undead before Drangleic fell? The thought unnerved them, and the Chef and Knightess approached with caution.
As they did, the pair spotted a most unusual sight; a white haired man sitting cross legged on the docks, just staring up at the luminous crystal. He wore robes common to a sorcerer of Melfia, though neither Erik nor Lucatiel recognized who he was. To fair though, Lindelt despised the practice of sorcery and was in an almost constant state of war with the nation of mages, and Mirrah wasn't geographically close enough to either country that she'd know who was important or not with a glance.
After cutting down some more Varangian pirates and confirming that the Dark Stalkers were confined to the shadows, the chef and knightess made their way to the old man.
"Greeting, sir. Are you perhaps in need of assistance?" Erik called out as they approached. The man looked up, his eyes brimming with indignation at being interrupted from… whatever he was doing. But when he laid eyes on the Undead who'd spoken to him they widened before taking on a predatory gleam.
"Hmm… I sense power… Very well. From this day, you shall be my new pupil. I am Carhillion. Carhillion of the Fold. Surely you've heard the name? Now, now, do not be afraid. Let us explore the limits of sorcery."
Erik took a step back under the sudden proclamation, as did Lucatiel.
"Were you talking to me, or to her?" Erik asked after a brief pause, jabbing a thumb from himself to the warrior from Mirrah.
"I was talking to you my boy! Such bright eyes and bright soul! You'll make a powerful sorcerer indeed! Where did you train, boy? Speak up!" The elderly wizard demanded.
"Sir, you must be mistaken. I am no sorcerer, just a mere chef! And if you must know where I am from, I hail from Lindelt. The name's Erik Potts." The Undead cook mentioned this last part almost as an afterthought.
"Lindelt? Pah, no wonder you don't have the proper attire or training! Those buffoons wouldn't know brilliance if it bit them in their padded rears! I shall have to give you the crash course it seems," Carhillion said in disappointment.
"I fear you must be mistaken. The boy does not have an affinity for spells. If anything, fire is his domain," Lucatiel said on Erik's behalf. She did not like this old man's pushy attitude or his rough way of speaking.
"Pyromancer, is it? Not what I'm used to but I can make do. Flames are an aspect of magic, just as the soul is. More so, if you believe those fairy tales about the First Flame," Carhillion mused without a hint of dejection, or a sense of giving up.
"Mr. Carhillion, I do not mean to be rude, but I'm not interested in learning anything right now. I'm on a bit of a journey at the moment," Erik explained, trying to convince the old sorcerer to give up. And it was true. Ever since the floating Gaol had appeared, Erik had felt a sudden urge to board it, as if the vessel would take him to where he needed to go. He did not understand why, but the Soul of the Last Giant was also throbbing painfully, urging the chef to follow the commands in his soul.
In response, Carhillion's face fell for a bit before taking on its normal gruff expression.
"Hmph. In that case, do as you like. I may travel back to Majula soon anyways to gather more reagents and materials for my spells. Seek me out there if you decide to take my training." Erik bowed his head in thanks, before glancing at the crystal in the sky above them, suspended by chains.
"Might I ask what you were doing before we bothered you?"
"I'd felt some strong and unusual magic in this place when I was passing through," the grumpy sorcerer said after a bit. "I'd looked everywhere but I could not find the source. Then all of a sudden, that crystal descends and explodes with light! Immediately I could sense the magic again, all coming from the amazing device! I have no idea who made it, but it appears to be a Cast Light spell anchored to the crystal and fueled by an unknown power source! An extremely impressive feat! Most spells would have decayed after only a decade, let alone a century, but this one appears to have endured for millennia, at least!"
"That is impressive!" Erik agreed, and Carhillion nodded, glad to see someone could recognize brilliance when they saw it.
"Indeed. I've been mediating and trying to trace the magic back to its fuel source, but all for naught. But I'm certain I will reach the answer in time."
"Well then, I suppose my friend and I should leave you to it. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Carhillion. May we see each other in Majula someday!" Erik said, bidding the sorcerer farewell. He just gave a nod, and turned his head back up to the ceiling, fixing his gaze back to the mysterious stone.
Moving off towards the ship, the two Undead adventurers shared a look over the unusual eccentric man.
"…Are all sorcerers so high-strung and pushy?" Lucatiel asked after a moment, to which Erik just shrugged.
"I don't know. Sorcery is illegal in Lindelt, and practioners are branded as heretics and hunted down. Even living near a sorcerer is enough to warrant an investigation. As such, he's the first I've ever met."
The Mirrahian knight nodded at that.
"We don't have many sorcerers in Mirrah. The few we do have are trained in very specialized magic involving sound and disguise. The Knights of Shadow, assassins and hunters of clerics, pyromancers, and other sorcerers. They do not mingle with the rank-and-file, or appear on the battlefield. I only know of them because my brother…" At this, Lucatiel paused, and Erik shot her a concerned look. She just shook her head to show everything was fine before speaking again. "Anyways, the point is I have not encountered a 'traditional' sorcerer before."
The pair was silent as they approached the sailing vessel, the groaning Hollows chained upon and within it sending a spear of fear through their hearts. Upon the hull they could finally see the ship's name, written in faded and peeling white paint; Caitha's Chains. Named for the Goddess of Tears, who wept for all suffering and sorrow and brought solace to victims. It was an appropriate name for a floating vessel of misery. Swallowing a lump of apprehension Erik stepped up the gangplank and onto the deck of the ship. Immediately an arrow whizzed past his ear and fell into the water behind him. The only reason he wasn't wearing the projectile between his eyes was because Lucatiel had shoved the cook aside at the last moment.
"Thanks!" Erik shouted, hurling a throwing knife into the Varangian archer and causing it to stagger. Lucatiel rushed forward, sword spinning in elaborate arcs, mowing down the pirates that rushed up from below to confront the intruders. Meanwhile, Erik moved to cover the knightess' back, tossing knives and igniting Hollows armed with ranged weapons. In moments corpses littered the deck, and the way below beckoned. Erik entered, and a flight of stairs and a hold of wailing Hollows later he came face to face with a fog gate. Lucatiel frowned, having encountered these phenomena before, and steeled herself. Together, the chef and the knight entered the swirling vortex, bringing up weapons.
What the pair now faced was much worse than they'd expected. So far, the two travelers had run into all manner of foes, from Hollows to berserk animals, and even a legendary being in Erik's case. But this was so much worse.
"Kill contain kill contain kill contain kill…!" Before them was a pair of large Varangian pirates, men who'd probably been captains or clan leaders based on their sheer size, but now forcibly stitched together, back to back. At the waist their flesh was melded together as if their skin and bone had melted and flowed together, but had also been pinned to each other with thick iron nails. One carried a massive spiked club while the other clutched two large rusted scimitars. Each head was jabbering and muttering words that overlapped each other creating a blood chilling mantra.
"Take the sword-swinging Hollow, I'll handle the club!" Erik shouted and the two quickly split up, targeting their opponent. It blurred, moving too fast for something that was apparently a cruel form of torture. Leaping and splashing into the thin film of water at their feet, the twin Hollows spun like a whirlwind, faster than even Lucatiel could manage to move. They dodged however, and quickly started their counter attack.
Erik slashed with his dagger and smashed Combustions into the rotting flesh of the massive double Hollow, while Lucatiel pricked the flesh of her foe before driving it deeper and leaving deep gashes. The monster howled and constantly tried to retaliate but it was useless. If this had been just Erik or Lucatiel, they would have fallen to this berserk yet talented warrior. However, with the two of them, their attacks became coordinated so that when Erik drew the attention of the club wielder and it tried to smash him aside, Lucatiel would attack and force the duel scimitar wielder to focus on her and inadvertently disrupt the other Hollow's movements.
It was over in minutes, the foe driving itself to defeat through the very nature of its construction. With a final gurgle, the spliced pirate captains collapsed into the water around them, Erik's dagger rammed into its ribs. A torrent of white soul specks floods into the two Undead, and they gasp under the boost of power they suddenly felt. At the same time, a black and reddish hued soul floated out of the slain foe and into Erik. He tensed, as like with the Dragonrider, images seared themselves into his mind.
Two twin brothers, both skilled warriors in their own rights. Neither wanted to usurp the other for control of their pirate fleet, so they became one. The infamous Flexile Brothers of Varangian! Suddenly, a shift. The two brothers, fighting off swarms of Syan's Knights and Royal Soldiers who'd laid a trap for the pirates. The two same brothers, cut down by Velstadt himself. Awakening in chains, the Dark Sign having manifested on their crushed remains. Two men, staring down at them. One a tall, elegant man in a crown who radiated a sense of divinity. The other, no taller than a normal human, but who filled the twins with absolute terror. Commanded to serve as Undead slavers, trawling up and down the coast, capturing Undead and bringing them to the smaller man. Aldia. Erik jerked as he felt the twins scream in pain as they were physically bonded to each other, and then tethered to the ship with foul blood rituals performed by a tall dour woman in white who craved light but was little more than fractured Darkness and Desire…
"Blerg!" Erik doubled over as the memories faded, vomit dribbling from his lips as he returned to his senses. This time the visions had been clearer. Erik wished they hadn't been. The things he'd seen… the atrocities… was this the true nature of King of Souls Vendrick?
"Erik, are you alright?" Lucatiel hurried over to his side, worried when she saw him spew all over the floor.
"Fine, just nerves loosening after a fight," Erik lied, waving off her concern. The knightess frowned but nodded, unwilling to force an answer just yet.
Wiping his mouth Erik stood up and looked to where the fog had faded. Something deeper inside called to him, and he soon entered the captain's quarters. Sitting in one corner was a treasure chest, while in the other was some sort of astronomical mobile of some sort, combined with a heavily ornamented map. Puzzled, Erik reached out and touched the central orb of the device, jerking away when it whirred to life, emitting a faint white glow. All of a sudden the ship lurched, and Erik all but fell over. Thankfully Lucatiel caught him before he hurt himself.
"What was that?" She asked, and Erik could only shrug. Heading up to the deck to investigate, they saw a glow filling the sails and wrapping around the wheel, similar to the one on the astro-globe. Furthermore, the ship itself was moving out of the cove all by itself, somehow directed and controlled by a form of magic! In awe, the two Undead didn't notice the sprinting form of an old robed sorcerer approaching them until a glow erupted under his feet and he flew into the air before crashing onto the deck in front of them.
"What in the…!" Lucatiel shouted, drawing her sword before restraining herself when she saw it was Carhillion who'd suddenly dropped in!
"Phew! That was a rush! I was afraid I'd misjudged the spell's power and would miss the boat all together!" The elderly Melfian laughed.
"Um, hello again Mr. Carhillion. Is there a problem?" Erik asked, hesitantly.
"Problem? Of course there is! This ship is moving through some sort of magical spell and method I do not know and you expect me to let it go? I will uncover this secret, and make it my own!" Carhillion shouted excitedly, the passion of a scholar having ignited in his soul.
"What about the light crystal?" Was honestly all Lucatiel could respond with. The sorcerer just waved his hand dismissively.
"Bah, that giant hunk of rock isn't going anywhere! This thing is, and I'll be damned if I let an opportunity escape me!" Erik and Lucatiel shared a look and then sighed in tandem. It seemed they gained a very 'interesting' new member, for better or for worse.