Chapter 18: Loot and a Familiar Face
"So, you're able to see visions of the soul's past?" Chloanne asked, trying to clarify all she'd been told by her two new friends. The group of Undead, after slaying the demon, had wandered around the room. The stairs, though broken, were easily clambered up, and the treasure room they found was impressive.
"Yes. And it seems the more divorced from humans they are, they less I am able to see. Coherently at least. When I took the soul of a Giant, all I got were emotions and vague desires. The Hollowed foes are disjointed, and the Demon was… odd to say the least. I saw its memories as if I was the demon, rather than as a bystander like before. Strangely enough the clearest vision I've had so far came from a trio of metal Automata who were made with the souls of criminals. Not sure why." Erik sorted through vast piles of gold coins and jewelry as he explained, looking for anything useful like Magic Rings or enchanted weapons and armor. Lucatiel did the same, examining the various weapons here and there. An elegant straight sword, made in Heide if the faint lightning enchantment in the blade was any indication, was given to the chef to wield, as a dagger was fairly useless at this point.
"And you can feel something pulling you towards it? Or at least sense where it is?" the ore trader asked as she slipped bars of rare and precious metals and chunks of altered Titanite into her bag.
"Yup. Don't know why, but I think the Emerald Herald knows more than she lets on," Erik mused, inspecting a large wooden chest with hinges and lock made of gold.
"Who?"
"The woman who tends the bonfire in Majula," Lucatiel said to Chloanne's inquiry.
"Oh."
"Anyways, after I find this next soul or whatever it is that draws me forth, I'm going to ask her some very pointed questions," Erik stated. His pensive frown broke into a wide grin as he got the fancy chest open and stared at its bounty.
"Everyone! I just found a Bottomless Box!" Erik cried in joy, and the others looked over in interest. A treasure like that could help them carry all sorts of items!
"What is it holding already?" Lucatiel inquired, noticing Erik's smile.
"Food!" He exclaimed, showing them… bags of brown beans and nuts?
"Pardon?" Lucatiel asked, tilting her head in confusion, an action mimicked by Chloanne.
"Coffee beans! Cocoa beans! Sacks of sugarcane! Bottles of wine and brandy! Slabs of marbled meat and bags overflowing with produce!" The chef said giddily, sorting through the various foods and ingredients.
"How could it survive all this time without going bad?" Chloanne asked, peering at the items Erik was eagerly examining.
"Some Bottomless Boxes are enchanted to preserve what it is inside them. It's extremely expensive! This box alone is worth at least a villa, maybe a castle! And that's not even taking into account the food!" Erik exclaimed. "Everything in here is both rare and worth lots of money. Coffee can only be grown in Jugo, and Cocoa can only be grown in Lanafir! This bottle of 555 Dragonstar Brandy is priceless! Only a hundred bottles were ever made! Even House Osteria only has two! And this meat right here is Wyvern flank!"
"That Demon did seem the glutton, and you mentioned how he ate to repress his desires for the Iron King's wife," Chloanne mused. "It makes sense he would only have the best to try and satisfy himself and woo his paramour."
"Will the magic hold fast?" Lucatiel asked to which Erik nodded in the affirmative.
"As long as we keep the amount of magical items inside to a minimum, the Box's enchantment should stay strong for a long time. They're built to last, after all."
"Good to know!" Chloanne said with a happy sigh as she plopped her sack of plundered ores into the chest, relieved she would not have to lug the heavy metals everywhere. Lucatiel chose to include a few pieces of armor and weapons from the pile to the chest but kept one sword strapped to her waist. It was a smaller straight sword, similar to Erik's new Heide Sword but slightly longer and with a bluish tinge. It was a Blue Flame Sword, a rare magically enchanted blade that could unleash bolts of pure Sorcery upon foes. With this, Lucatiel could now compensate for her previous lack of range.
As for Chloanne, she chose to select a straight sword coated in yellowish quartz as her new weapon. It was one of Alken's rare Yellow Quartz Longswords, a strange crystalline blade made by coating an ordinary steel sword in melted quartz, amber, and topaz to creating a slightly fragile blade that carried a much sharper edge than it seemed at first glance. Odd looking and coming with a matching small shield, the unusual weapon seemed to fit the ore trader well.
"This everything we want?" Erik asked. Nods were his reply and the Undead chef grunted a bit as he tied the box to his backpack and proceeded to carry both containers on his back.
"Do you want any help?" the chef's knightess inquired, but the young man was stubborn and shook his head.
"I can do this! I've carried crates and stuff before when I picked up the food orders for the kitchens. This is nothing," Erik assured her. Lucatiel just shrugged and shared a look with Chloanne. The ore trader nodded back. Boys!
"Alright! Onwards!" Erik proclaimed, and the trio of Undead started off to the depths of the Earthen Peak and its fortress.
Almost immediately the group ran into a bonfire, sitting just a ways in past the room the Covetous Demon had blocked off. It was a welcome sight and they warmed their souls at it, fortified for the journey ahead.
And again, almost immediately, the trio was accosted by Hollows and Erik learned a valuable lesson; don't stand around and get shot with arrows! He thought he'd learned that lesson back at the ruined castle, but no it seemed he had forgotten. They had traveled up some stairs, smashing aside Hollows and the occasional Steelworker when they came to a long bridge suspended over clanking gears and automated ore grinders, guarded by a lone Undead of a new variety. While the odd, grey skinned Hollow with polearm and shield confronted Lucatiel, some hidden snipers took pot shots at Erik and Chloanne who'd hung back. The very first arrow staggered the chef, and the new weight he was carrying threw him off. Literally. He plunged hundreds of feet down off the stone walkway into the mess of industrial equipment and died most gorily, spread across the pavement.
Erik shot upright at the bonfire, panting and embarrassed. He quickly hurried back and found all the Hollows taken care of.
"Well, well, well, look who decided to drop by," Lucatiel said with a mocking grin, tossing the hideous Undead chef a Human Effigy to restore his visage.
"Don't be so down, Erik, it happens to the best of us," Chloanne giggled, joining in on the teasing.
"Just be careful not to fall for the same trick again, Erik," Lucatiel added.
"Oh, come on, it's all in good fun! Don't leave us hanging," the ore trader said with a stifled laugh when the two women saw the chef's pouting and unamused expression.
"Mark my words, you two, I will have my revenge for this humiliation. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday! Someday, you will rue the puns!" Erik cried, shaking his fist in mock anger at the ceiling. His companions laughed good naturedly, before the sounds of Undead starting to stir and revive made them leg it across the bridge to the other side.
"When you look at this place, it really strikes you just how advanced the previous Kingdoms were," Lucatiel murmured in appreciation, looking at the still whirring and working mechanisms of the modified factory-fortress. Chloanne nodded.
"A lot of Drangleic's industry and technology far surpasses the mainland's. For generations this land was the cultural, magical, and scientific center of the world! The Gods brought knowledge, the Kings brought prosperity… oh, to see this place as it once was," Chloanne sighed as she gazed at the surroundings. Erik could only agree.
So much had been lost in the five centuries or so since Drangleic and its mighty kings had fallen and the Curse of the Undead had run rampant across the world. The gods left this dying realm and settled across the Mainland, guarded by their faithful and isolated from the rest of the world by barriers both natural and magical.
But their power was waning. This was a rumor whispered only in secret amongst the citizens of Lindelt. Many of the Miracles were weakening, and the gods showed themselves less and less. The last time any had fully gone about in public view had been forty-some years ago, when they bestowed blessings upon the newest head of House Osteria. Some thought the end was soon, that even the gods would fall to the Curse. That sort of talk was heresy everywhere, not just in the religious kingdom of Lindelt, and Erik had seen more than a few executions for people accused of such slander before he'd fled his home.
All their melancholic musing was cut short by a loud click. Erik blinked and looked down and saw a tile depressed under his foot. He gulped down apprehension. He'd read enough adventure novels to know where this was going to go.
Three long sharp stakes were hurled out of the nearby wall and slammed into Erik's left side, tossing him dangerously close to the edge of the balcony.
"Erik!" the two cried. Lucatiel then drew her great sword as a headless doll leapt up and dashed over to the prone Undead. She growled in disgust and smacked away the grotesque soul-powered Manikin. Out of all the foes fought so far only these Headless Manikins were much challenge, and that was because they leapt and pranced and dodged all over the place. Add their poisoned short swords to the mix and these puppets were the main threat of the area.
"I've changed my mind. I hate these things more than I hate Undead Dogs," Lucatiel sneered, kicking the empty vessel over the edge. Erik nodded but stopped and grimaced in pain due to the metal rods poking through him. Chloanne wrenched them out of him and the chef chugged Estus until the gaping wounds closed.
"What are they, anyways?" Chloanne asked.
"Dunno. But the legends always said that the kingdom of Venn was adept at crafting golems and other sorts of automata. It seems that when the Old Iron King conquered them, he stole their knowledge," Erik guessed.
Several ladders, flights of stairs, and Hollows later they reached a bonfire that overlooked the entire factory-fortresses interior while also positioned to allow an impressive view over the remains of the Harvest Valley through a gap in a large windmill.
"Does anyone know why these messages are all saying to burn this thing?" Erik asked after a moment, pointing out the glowing orange Soapstone messages that were clustered around the windmill mechanism. His companions shrugged.
"It seems important though. If enough people advise us to do so, perhaps we should follow their words," Lucatiel said.
"I agree. But how would we go about doing so? It's made of metal and just burning the cloth won't stop the machine. We'd have to smash it completely," Chloanne pointed out. Erik stroked his chin in thought, before beaming as an idea lit up in his mind.
"What about melting it?" Erik asked, a sly grin on his face. The knightess smirked and Chloanne merely smiled. She'd been told about what he could do, but this would be the first time witnessing the melting powers of the chef.
Carefully, Erik inched his way up to the ledge that lead to the socket where the large windmill was connected to the rest of the building, and started to draw out the memories of heat in the well-made steel.
The Undead chef had found that his Pyromancy worked best on objects that had been forged with intense heat, and steel was definitely such a material. The 'memory' of the fires that had produced it were more vivid and pronounced, and it made it easier for the Fire Seed to latch onto it and draw it forth.
In mere seconds the steel glowed red, and soon after it softened and bent. Gravity and the sheer weight of the windmill blades took care of the rest. With a deafening shriek of tortured metal the entire face of the windmill tore off and plunged down into the poison shrouded abyss. A distant clang and thud reverberated through the Earthen Peaks, and a stream of souls rose up to Erik who had jumped back to safety as the construct had started to groan in distress.
"Neat," Erik mused, and he looked back to the two women who gave him a thumbs up.
Behind the Undead, inside the building, there was a hideous screeching din that shook their teeth and rattled their bones. The three rushed back to the bonfire to see what was happening, and they were impressed. That single large piece of the mechanism had supported a great deal of the inner workings, and without it everything started to fall apart. Chains snapped and spilled vats full of glowing green waste, gears popped off their bearings and tumbled down to the ground, and chunks of masonry and entire Hollows plunged down to the disaster zone that was the lower levels.
"Well. That went better than expected," Erik said, giving his friends a smile which they returned. The three Undead travelers were not vandals or people who brought about wonton destruction and collateral damage wherever they went. They were law abiding to the best of their abilities and did their best to keep the places they went intact and free of spontaneous wildfires. But there was something cathartic about trashing a place that had done its best to kill you and was filled with people you hate.
"Onwards?" Erik asked, and they nodded.
"Onwards!"
The trio moved on, finding the Hollows still unsteady and shocked after their home had nearly collapsed on them. Easy pickings. There was a new foe they soon encountered, however. Strange, red robed and hooded women with extremely negligible garments covering their curvy bodies. They hurled Fireballs and various Pyromancies at the Undead as they advanced.
"Let me guess: Desert Sorceresses?" Erik asked, ducking back behind a wall as fire exploded against the stone.
"Looks like it. I've never actually seen one myself, but I've heard that this is what their attire is like," Lucatiel said.
"I really like their clothes. Do you think they'd let me have some?" Chloanne wondered out of the blue. Her friends just stared at her, blinking in befuddlement. A pout spread across her lips.
"Oh, as if you've never wanted to wear pretty clothes before," She huffed.
"As a man, I can honestly say that has never crossed my mind. The closest to that desire would be donning a priest's robes, but that's it," Erik protested, but surprisingly Lucatiel was silent and looking away in shame. The chef ignored this potential character development to jump around the corner and fling a Throwing Knife into the attacking woman's chest. She collapsed with a shriek, and a cloud of souls told him she was down for now.
"Come on, let's move! I saw a gap below that gear thing we can squeeze through. Just have to deal with that silvery Hollow," Erik said, and the group rushed out, jumping down the shallow pit and taking apart the polearm wielding Undead.
What they found next was very unexpected. Or rather, who.
"My, my, what do we have here? Two familiar faces and a lovely new one! How have you been?" Leaning against the wall of a small square pit was none other than Mild Mannered Pate, who waved nonchalantly up at the gawking trio.
"How… what…" Erik was confused. How had this man made it so far? His equipment was rugged, certainly, but could it stand up to a Demon?
"Ah, curious as to how I got around that ugly slug below? It's quite simple, really. You see, as I was traveling and trying to access this place, I ran across an odd fellow. Gilligan, I believe he called himself, as well as a Laddersmith."
Chloanne stiffened when she heard the name, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the others. But Pate politely ignored her and kept talking.
"Never heard of a 'laddersmith' before, but he knew his stuff and made me some collapsible ladders. I just used those to climb over the walls and sneak my way inside. So far though the treasure haul has been disappointing. Maybe you'll have more luck. There's some nice items beyond that door, I can feel it!" Pate said, gazing at the locked stone door with longing.
"I see… well, don't let us keep you. We'll just… keep going," Erik said haltingly as he and the group backed out and headed down another path.
"I just…! I can't…!" Erik muttered, wringing his hands. Lucatiel patted his back in sympathy.
"I understand completely. Maybe we should think about alternative ways to get into places in the future. That might save us some time," the knightess consoled. To be honest, she was a bit jealous that the treasure hunter had had such a clever idea. She'd run into the wandering spearman in her travels through Heide. The man had been plundering some sunken ruins while avoiding the Blue Sentinels. He'd offered some useful advice, and informed her of a treasure pile some ways off. She'd tried to reach it but died a few times to the traps, and gave up, moving on the Dragonrider and the Wharf beyond. The bald man was nice but gave off a feeling of… sleaziness? She wasn't sure what it was, but she'd been on guard around him the first time they'd met, and now was no different. The swordswoman saw that Chloanne had similar feelings based on the scrunched up face she had. That Erik had not noticed this made them concerned.
Still, they team continued onward to whatever awaited them, armed and deadly and ready for trouble.