Chapter 34: Blizzards, Reindeer, and Cats, oh my!
"Gods damn it all," Erik moaned, shivering in the freezing winds of the north. He had been traveling for hours now, and was unsure of where he was anymore. The snow was everywhere and the wind swept away any trace of his steps. He could vaguely make out mountainous shapes in the distance but they were obscured by storms.
He had almost nothing with him, either. Just his ragged leather armor, his ancestor's book, the Dull Ember, a few mouthfuls of estus along with some Lifegems and throwing knives, and a few other knickknacks. The Bottomless Box which had most of the supplies and equipment had been left behind at the Brightstone Cove, as well as the Heide Long Sword which he had dropped when confronting Aldia. The only weapon he had left was his Titanite Kitchen Knife and the Handmaiden's ladle, and somehow he doubted a foe would find either very impressive.
The worst part was he had no idea what would happen if he died. Normally the nearest bonfire would accept him, but he had last used the Primal Bonfire, and the one he had arrived at had been dead. Would he just revive in the snow where he fell? Or would the flames carry him back to the one they had rested at before entering the ruined dukedom?
Erik wasn't keen on dying to find out. Even a single death drew an Undead closer to Hollowing, so he struggled on through the snow drifts towards the looming mountains ahead. A vague direction and destination was better than nothing, and perhaps shelter and a Bonfire could be found.
Hours passed. Or maybe it was days? Time lost all meaning to the chef in the empty wasteland. Nothing but whiteness as far as the eye could see, with only the blotchy, indistinct darkness of the mountains to guide him. Sometimes they grew closer, other times they vanished behind snow storms and seemed further than ever when the winds abated. It was maddening!
But, at long last a measure of good luck seemed to appear for Erik. Worn down and weathered bits of rubble and ruin could be seen poking out of the snow here and there, and it seemed to be the remains of an old village.
This was the first sign of civilization he'd seen since he'd arrived in this place, and he eagerly staggered into the lee of a tumbled down wall, hiding from the blistering ice and snow and ceaseless winds.
'Damn the Gods for this cold!' Erik griped, teething chattering, as he huddled close to his Pyromancy that danced in his left palm. It was the only reason he had made it this far, the magical flames doing a decent job of keeping him from turning into a popsicle.
'And now I'm hungry,' the chef whined. Thinking about the expensive frozen treat he'd experienced back in Lindelt had reminded his stomach that it was empty and needed feeding. A roar barked forth from his digesting organ, and he shrunk down on himself even further, trying to keep the hunger at bay.
As he moaned to himself, something shifted and stirred in the snow banks nearby. Erik paused in surprise as a creature that resembled a white rabbit crossed with a rat, but larger and with icicle spines, popped out of a snowy burrow and stared at the chef with pale blue eyes.
Before his eyes it curled into a ball and hurled itself, spikes first, at the Undead, who was barely able to dodge to the side. The creature struck the wall hard and seemed dazed for a second, and that was all the opening Erik needed. With his right hand he grabbed a throwing knife and plunged it down onto the creature's belly, gutting it.
His hands were aching with the cold though so the first blow was a poor one, but the second and third were better and it finally went still, even as it tried to bite and stab its attacker.
As the creature cooled in the red snow, Erik pulled out Donovan Potts' tome and shakily leafed through the pages. He was thankful that whatever magic preserved the book from age had made it resistant to the elements as well. The pages turned with only the faintest crinkle in the frosty air.
"It is unknown why, but the land of Drangleic has an unusual effect on all that dwells in it. The Lapine was supposedly an ordinary rabbit before the Land of Gods twisted and changed it. These creatures can live anywhere, but prefer wide open spaces like fields and plains or in rare cases tundra's," Erik read aloud, partly to hear something other than the wind after so long.
"A Lapine can be prepared just like rabbit. Any dish that uses rabbit meat as a base can be made with Lapine instead. But, because the Lapine is more carnivorous than its smaller counterpart its meat is slightly chewier. Be wary of Male Lapines as they grow hedgehog-like spines, and they can be surprisingly sharp, enough to poke through hardened leather."
Wiping drool from his mouth before it could freeze there, Erik looked down at the prey he'd encountered and quickly began to separate the edible parts. It was slow work, but Erik managed to carve off a sizable portion and roast it with his Pyromancy, gulping down the seared meat as fast as he could cook it.
Belly sated, he looked around for more Lapines, but they seemed to be wary of him now. Not unsurprising, he did have their blood on his hands and teeth. Still, it was better than nothing, and after a moment more of rest Erik put away the tome and stood, pushing on towards the mountains in the distance.
Three more times he found what appeared to be the ruins of a village, and three more times he was ambushed by local monsters. Twice by Lapines, which became food after a brief struggle, but at the third village, the closest one to the mountains yet, a terrifying horse-like monster covered in ice and spikes attacked him.
It was dark blue and covered in sharp, jagged shard of ice while oozing a strange black mist from its body. A pair of horns curved upwards from its head giving it the look of a cross between a horse and a reindeer. But it was fast, vicious, and able to breathe gouts of super frozen air at the Undead.
It was all Erik could do to dodge the monster. He didn't want to use any of his Pyromancy spells if he could help it, lest he run out and then be condemned to freezing to death. But at the same time he had no weapons with decent reach or penetrative powers. His throwing knives bounced off harmlessly, and his Firebombs just marred the ice-armored flesh. His ladle, though unnaturally hard, was useless as a weapon against this monster because of its defenses, and aside from his Titanite Kitchen Knife that was about the extent of his weaponry.
"Damn it!" Erik screamed again, throwing himself into the snow to avoid a jet of freezing breathe. The horse-monster neighed and attempted to trample him, rearing and stomping where the chef had fallen.
A memory flickered to life within him, courtesy of one of the souls. A strong body, but weak belly. And for a moment as the hooves crashed down towards him Erik saw a spot that looked nice and soft.
He was weak. He hated that. Hated being so pitiful! This was like being home in Lindelt, or when he'd first arrived in Drangleic; helpless and weak, unable to do much except go with the flow.
But things had changed. He met friends, he fought monsters, and he survived. He would not die like this, at the hands of a mere animal! He gripped his kitchen knife, a tool passed down in his family for generations, and stabbed upwards at the stomach of the horse.
As he scored a blow against it one of the monster's hooves shattered his left shoulder and he screamed in pain even as his attacker did the same. Thick dark blood gushed from the wound in the stomach and the monster dashed off with a screeching whinny, beaten back for the moment.
"Fuck! Shit!" Erik howled, cradling his ruined arm. There were only a few servings of Estus left in his flask, but he had no choice but to sip at it. A Lifegem wasn't nearly as potent enough to fix that level of damage to him.
His Pyromancy had gone out when the arm was shattered, and so it was a cold few minutes as the liquid fire repaired him in the corner of a fallen building he hid inside.
"This is not how I saw my day going," Erik griped, before wondering how long it actually had been. Undead could sleep, but did not need to. Food, water, and rest were illusions of their human past, clung to in order to keep up a semblance of normality. It was sometimes all that stood between sanity and Hollowing.
And here he was, out in the blistering cold, crouched against a frozen stone wall, miles from civilization. The mountain was closer, and now he could make out structures dotted here and there. Perhaps really big towers or buildings?
But it was still a ways off, and if more of those horses showed up the chef didn't know how long he'd last.
"What a fine mess…" Erik trailed off as a Lapine popped its head out of the snow nearby, snarling at him. He sighed, and raised his kitchen knife to fend it off. At least his left arm was nearly healed.
A twisted idea filled Erik's mind, and suddenly the Lapine trembled as a manic grin stretched over his face.
"Come here, bunny… I need something from you," Erik cooed evilly.
It had been a mad idea. But one that seemed to work. Horses and reindeer were herbivores and skittish around predators. That also meant that the scent of fresh blood would keep them away for a bit if they sensed it.
The Loyce Reindeer, which is what the monster was, according to Donovan's tome, was for all its appearance and attitude still a herbivore. And thus, the situation at present.
Erik was trudging through the snow, the blood of the Lapine smeared over his face, hands, and armor. It had a slightly pungent aroma but was barely noticeable in the frigid winds. But the scent was enough for the Loyce Reindeer, even heavily mutated by the Dark, to keep their distance.
They would pop up every so often, but only from afar, warily watching Erik. When he felt their gazes on him he threw himself into the snow, trying to play dead. It worked and for several miles not a thing bothered him. He had to replenish the blood a few times, as the cold froze the ichor to his body and ruined the scent.
Luring the monstrous rabbits with drops of his own blood was the tactic Erik used, and he made sure to finish them off quickly and stuff their meat into his bag for later.
And with his travel unmolested, he made it all the way up to the side of the mountains. He had steadily been going uphill, and whenever the blizzards abated he could glimpse that whatever had stood at the top of the mountains had been a castle of some kind, but layered with ice.
It had not taken Erik long to believe he had reached Eleum Loyce itself, the Frozen Citadel of Drangleic.
Out of all the kingdoms that had once existed on this place, this was the most mysterious. It was isolated and small, keeping to the north and uninterested in expanding their territory or even gathering resources. In fact Eleum Loyce rarely traded at all with outsiders. Much like Lanafir on the mainland. It should have been impossible for a country this severely ruined to even exist without outside help. But it did.
In the notes from Donovan Potts, Erik's ancestor had mentioned traveling to the icy kingdom and recorded the various cuisines there, such as Lapine stew or Loyce Reindeer pot roast, but where he'd normally speak about the cultures of the places he visited, even Donovan was tight lipped about Eleum Loyce. All he could read about it that wasn't already common knowledge was a short passage.
'The people here are stronger than any others I have met on my travels. They practice a way of life so pure and noble it brings my home of Lindelt to shame. But more than that, their leader is one of the most kind and selfless beings I have ever met. I speak not of the legendary Ivory King, a Forrossan mercenary turned lord, but of the true power behind the throne; the High Priestess. Could I possibly have sacrificed so much for so many others? The king is noble and just from what I have seen of him, but someone who would blind herself and give the eye to those who cannot see is greater than anyone else I know. I am honored to keep their secret, and take it to my grave.'
"Well Donovan, let's see what you saw in this place," Erik sighed, deftly stepping over the rubble before him.
The ruins had grown more numerous in places, making Erik believe he was coming to some sort of ancient road or highway system. He had just come to circular area dotted with a ring of tombstone-like icons, eerily similar to the ones he'd found inside Brume Tower after using the altar-idol-thing to warp there.
He walked forward, passing by a mostly intact building that looked like an old warehouse. Another structure that looked like a chapel. More and more he found these relics of a thriving nation that had vanished into a raging storm.
As he walked, Erik began to notice that there a large shelf of ice and snow was attached to the side of Eleum Loyce's mountain, and that the structures were facing this area and leading to it in a way. Was this perhaps the entrance to the fabled city?
Erik wished he had binoculars to check, but now that he thought about it and got closer, were those stairs coiling around the side of the mountainside?
"Please let there be a bonfire nearby," Erik prayed silently, striding forward. There was an old bridge some distance away which was completely covered in ice and connected to the glacier.
No, not a glacier, but a walled structure of some kind completely buried under the frozen water! A gatehouse of some kind, perhaps.
But Erik's hopes fell a bit when he saw there was a fog gate waiting at the end. He gulped down his fears and plastered a nervous smile upon his face.
"Maybe they can be reasoned with?"
Pushing through the clammy mist, the chef could swear he heard a series of growls start up as he did so.
And all his prayers went unanswered.
"WHAT IS WITH DRANGLEIC AND ALL THESE GIANT ANIMALS?!" Erik screamed as a pair of massive saber toothed tigers leapt down into a frozen arena, coats black with Darkness and snarling at the intruder.
'Lud and Zallen, pets of the Ivory King,' a voice whispered to Erik as he threw himself to the side as the first arrival roared and created a row of magical icicles.
The information came from the soul of the Lost Sinner, as well as the fact that they were the guardians of Eleum Loyce since the coronation of the king.
It didn't help much though. These monsters were fearsome before, but touched by whatever had altered the Loyce Reindeer? There was no question as to their might.
The second of them seemed content to watch as it companion toyed with Erik, lounging on a ledge overlooking the small battlefield.
'Lud is aggressive and eager to please his master. Zallen is lazy and content to wait and watch,' the Lost Sinner intoned, her knowledge pouring out unbidden. Erik just wished she'd shut up as it was distracting him, and a single mistake could mean death.
"Son of a bitch!" Erik gasped, feeling one of Lud's claws scrape across his back and draw blood, completely tearing through his armor as if it were flimsy parchment.
'Come on, Erik, think! There has to be a way out of this!' The chef thought. He had no advantages, physical or magical over this beast. Pyromancy might hurt it, but in this cold generating the power needed would drain him far faster than normal. Cryomancy was also out, as these beasts seemed content to wait in frigid temperatures and appeared to suffer no ill effects from the cold. Plus they could use it themselves.
His knife was dinky and while sharp was even less likely to be useful towards a creature this large. His ladle? Also useless. Knives and bombs? Not a chance.
And there were no terrain advantages Erik could exploit. It was a small flat basin, surrounded by a wall of packed snow. No pitfalls he could lure them into, nor sharp spikes or hazards. It was the worst place for him to be, because there was nowhere to run, either. Death waited for him. This was the end…
Something snapped inside his mind and soul. Was this really it? This was how his tale would end? Death by cats?
"Screw that!" Erik screamed, stopping dead in his tracks before spinning around to face the giant cats.
This took Lud by surprise as it stopped approaching, and Zallen raised its giant head up a smidge, intrigued.
"I am not dying here! I did not come all this way just to be killed by giant kittens!" Erik snarled, baring his teeth at Lud. The tiger growled back and leaned in close to bite the Undead, but was immediately struck on the nose by the Handmaiden's Ladle.
"No! No eating me!" Erik scolded, brandishing his 'weapon' of choice. "You do not get to do that! You are a cat! I don't care how big you are, cats don't eat people!"
Lud was confused. This was not how prey was supposed to act. Act brave for a bit, then once overwhelmed by himself or his brother, start to plead. That was how it had always been. Not since the Blood-Man and the Bone-Father had someone treated them this way!
Again, it opened its jaws wide to tear into the puny morsel, but was promptly smacked on the nose once more, this time with a frozen Lapine haunch. Lud reeled back, stunned. Did-did that Undead really just smack him with a piece of meat?
Now Zallen was paying full attention to what was going on down below. This was a funny morsel, trying to beat up his brother with food!
"I have fought a Giant, Ogres, Demons, and Hollows galore! Against my will I became a Monarch Candidate, and I still barely understand what that is!" Erik ranted, stepping forward and slapping the Lapine steak against Lud's muzzle, forcing the tiger to back up.
Upon hearing 'Monarch' and 'Candidate' spoken together like that, the two pets recalled a moment when Bone-Father had spoken with Dark-Mother about 'rekindling flames' and 'a chosen one to do so.' That term had come up a lot in those conversations. Was this odd not-human the one being waited on?
Zallen wasn't sure. He was lazy, but thoughtful. He'd see how this played out some more. Maybe if this not-human amused him enough, he'd taken him to see Dark-Mother. And if he didn't, or wasn't what was needed, then he could just kill him later.
As for Lud, he was just annoyed a tiny creature was treating him, a regal lord of the tundra, like a common housecat. He growled a bit and chose to stop playing around. His hackles rose, and magic crackled in the air…
And Lud was immediately struck twice, once with the meat, the other with the ladle. And then again. Over and over the giant tiger was having his face beaten by a puny morsel while being shouted at and berated.
"Cats! Do not! Eat! People!" Erik screamed. He was pretty sure he was losing it. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that disciplining a massive tiger like it was a naughty kitten was a stupid idea. For the rest of him though rationality had been lost when fear gave way to pure annoyance. Not anger. Just annoyance. He wasn't even sure he could be angry in such an absurd situation.
His collection of souls laughed.
"Now listen to me, and listen closely," Erik uttered, his voice low yet still audible. "I have not come all this way just to turn back or die. I have not come all this way to have my ass handed to me by a pair of oversized fleabags, regardless of how terrifying they may be!"
Something was stirring inside him, and he felt the tigers tense up. He ignored them and continued to speak.
"I am Erik Potts! Chef of Lindelt! Reluctant savior of the world! And I will not tolerate tomfoolery when so much is at stake. Do you two understand me?"
Lud cowered, falling down and trembling, his brother Zallen doing the same. Why? Because in front of them was not just a human anymore, but a Witch draped with smoldering Life, a King crowned with radiant Light, and a Dragon oozing Sorcery. And behind them all, a Fire which created shadows Darker than the night.
Erik swept his gaze over the cowed tigers, unsure of what exactly had happened, but glad of it none the less. The chef was going to milk this for all it was worth.
"Now? Which one of you is going to give me a ride to the top? I have a feeling I have someone to speak to up there."