Chapter 39: Back Home and Rotten

"…then, after sealing the Bed of Chaos I spent a bit of time recovering before heading back here. And that's pretty much it." Erik tactfully left out what happened between him and Mytha. He was glad that his soreness was mistaken as the after effects of fighting the Ivory King and his legion.

"If it wasn't you telling that, I wouldn't believe a word," Carhillion admitted, a round of nods of agreement echoing his words. "However you've consistently done impossible things so I cannot dismiss it out of hand."

"Glad to hear it," Erik deadpanned.

At the moment he was sitting on the Emerald Herald's boulder, the Fire Keeper in question perched on the edge of it as well next to him with Chloanne on the other side of the chef. Both had listened with rapt attention for the tale that had been told, though Shanalotte had been able to control her face to avoid looking as if she was too interested in Erik's words.

As for the rest, they'd either plopped down on the ground, leaned against the other boulders, or stood as they listened.

"At least he died in battle. That is how he would have wanted it," Vengarl sighed. He had approached during the tale when mention of the Ivory King carried over to him. Everyone had been surprised to hear that Vengarl had not only known the man who'd become the Ivory King, but grown up with him in Forossa and been blood-brothers!

Ivar, the White Knight of Forossa, later the first and last king of Eleum Loyce. Vengarl, the Crimson Terror of Forossa. Both born mere weeks after the kingdom fell for unknown reasons, the two had grown up together as soldiers of fortune amidst mercenaries, fighting, killing, and bleeding. By the time they were adults their names were famous.

And so they'd traveled the world together, plying their skills. Eventually they'd arrived in Drangleic and gone their separate ways, but neither forgot the other.

Hearing Erik speak of his old friend and his sacrifice brought tears to Vengarl, though he hid them well. The towering, red armored man had smiled with relief when he heard that Aava, Lud, and Zallen were alright.

"So, now that I've spilled my guts, how have things been since I've been gone?" The chef inquired, smiling happily at the people around him.

"Not much. I've been working with Maughlin on some new armor," Chloanne announced proudly. "I went back to the places we were together and collected a large amount of supplies. You'll be amazed when you see what we managed to put together! Moggy is very talented!"

The armorer from Volgen blushed a fiery crimson as the nickname the ore trader had given him, looking away as chuckles greeted him.

"I don't doubt it. I cannot wait to see what you've made," Erik praised, eagerly leaning forward. He could use some new armor. His hardened leather outfit had seen better days.

"I've made some good progress on the enchanted navigation device," Carhillion stated matter of factly. "It uses Astromancer techniques which are fascinating in of themselves."

"Lady Licia and I have repelled the Red Phantoms at least once a week," Saulden announced. "The Huntsman's Copse is overflowing with the Brotherhood of Blood, and the Blue Sentinels have their hands full dealing with them in other places."

Erik winced at that. He had a feeling he was the reason the disciples of Nahr Alma were trying to invade Majula.

"Not much else to say, really. Gilligan has been out of the way, Magerold has become friends with Kale, and the area is nice and peaceful," Melentia said from where she was sitting on the ground.

"Yes, aside from the occasional traveler we've been a fairly boring town," Shalquoir claimed, curled up in Shanalotte's lap.

"That's good! Oh, I forgot to mention, Mytha and the others will be coming here soon," Erik said, causing everyone to turn to him in surprise.

"What do you mean by that?"

"It means what it means. Apparently there's a sibling of Nadalia and Alsanna down in Shulva and they want to make sure she is alright."

Erik had not spared many details about his travels. The Daughters of Dark were a mystery and a half, and he'd felt it was important to tell the people around him some of what they were. Not that he really understood fully what they were.

"And how do they plan to get to Shulva? That city sunk beneath the earth millennia ago. Any entrances would have been sealed or discovered ages past," Shanalotte argued.

"No, apparently there is a way. You see, they built these devices that can teleport a person from place to place, sort of like a bonfire. According to them there is one such object hidden near Majula that should take them to Shulva."

"There is? Where is it?" Chloanne asked curiously. She remembered the odd totem well and was curious as to what materials it was made of.

"They didn't say… something about a sewer, though…"

"What does this artifact look like?" Saulden spoke up, something glinting in his eye.

"Three headless serpents wrapped around a bowl-like altar," Erik said. At that the knight sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face.

"If that is the case I know where it is." Everyone turned in surprise towards the ancient warrior who gave an even deeper sigh.

"I saw something like that when I was pursuing the Great Souls," Saulden admitted. "It lay in a place I'd rather never travel to again."

"You were a Monarch Candidate?" Erik asked in awe, before shaking his head and focusing on the more important part. "Where was the altar?"

"Deep below the Gutter, being guarded by one of the bearers of the Great Souls," Saulden revealed, and gasps ran through the group.

The Gutter was an infamous place in Drangleic's history. In the final days of Heide there was a tremendous plague that nearly wiped out the population of the continent. It was also the time of the tale of Knight Alva who sought a cure for a Saintess. What was less spoken of in that legend was the fact that those who were touched by the plague were tossed into a deep underground cavern system. Some of the dead rose as early Hollows, and in the end the disaster was what drove the penultimate nail into Heide's coffin. When Shulva sank, the funeral dirge resounded.

"You're saying I have to dive down into the Gutter to reach the last of these souls?" Erik asked with a green tinge on his face. Saulden just nodded sadly, wretched memories rising to his own thoughts.

"Well, where is the entrance to it?"

Saulden just pointed at the gaping pit in the middle of Majula. Everyone's gaze drifted to it, disgust clear in their eyes.

"You mean… this whole time…" Chloanne gagged, unable to finish her sentence. A nod from the knight made everyone shiver in revulsion.

"So, how should I get down there?" Erik asked, swallowing down his bile.

"I used a rope. Lots of it, in fact. The hole is deep, and a misstep will splatter you on the bottom."

"I see…"

"Now, why use a silly rope when you can have a ladder?" Now their gazes turned to Gilligan who was approaching with a bit of swagger in his step.

"I'm willing to offer you a deal on a nice big ladder to get you down to the Gutter," the burly man announced, smiling a smarmy business smile. "Reasonable prices."

Chloanne gritted her teeth and balled her fists while Lenigrast rolled his eyes in contempt. Even Maughlin showed his utter lack of respect by muttering insults under his breath.

"There's no need. We will escort the boy." Everyone went stiff as a voice washed over them. The tone was calm and collected, but there was a sense of unease in most of the people as they heard the ethereal voice.

In the space near the bonfire cracks appeared in the air, like glass splintering. At once a massive portal tore itself into existence, revealing four people and three giant tigers. Two of the people were tall, one with dark skin and the other in elegant yet corrupted armor. The other two looked like short pale women with long black hair. They wore modest gowns and outfits and looked out at Majula with a calculating eye.

"Oh, you guys are here early," Erik said with a wave, Chloanne joining in as well as she recognized Mytha, Nadalia, and Raime.

"Aava! Lud! Zallen! You three have grown!" Vengarl cried in joy rushing and tackling the trio of massive felines. They fearsome cats quickly turned into playful kittens as they reunited with one of their old comrades. They remembered being saved and raised by him and Ivar and were eager to greet him.

"How did you do that?" Carhillion demanded, staring in awe at that display of immense magic.

"By joining our powers with our siblings we can use spells beyond what we normally could. This dimensional rift would be impossible with just one of us. It still needs a catalyst though, and bonfires are excellent trans-dimensional platforms," Nadalia explained as Alsanna, the Embodiment of Fear, hid behind her sister.

"And hello, Erik. I see you returned to Majula without issue."

"Hello, Nadalia. So, you knew that the altar was in the Gutter?"

"Apologies for keeping it from you." Nadalia was acting oddly stiff, not at all like Erik remembered. He then realized she was nervous in front of so many people. Well, more people than she'd likely seen in centuries at least.

"You plan to accompany Erik into the Gutter and the Black Gulch?" Shanalotte inquired, raising an eyebrow. She knew more of the nature of the Children of Dark than the others, but this was the first time she'd met any of them. It was odd, feeling the pressure from their immense Humanity filled souls press down on her. There was also a connection there as well. Bonfires fed on Humanity, and their souls looked tasty…

Erik tapped her on the shoulder, startling her from her reveries. She gave a haughty look crossed with minute embarrassment at the chef who just smiled.

Shanalotte narrowed her eyes at him. He had been strange ever since he had returned. Stealing glances at her, watching her actions… Not lustfully though. There was a strange sense of sorrow and pity and remorse in those green orbs of his.

The Emerald Herald shook it off. This was not the time to wonder about his attitude. Even if the thought of him discovering the truth about her origins as an experiment terrified her for some reason.

'We'll talk later,' he mouthed, and the Last Firekeeper nodded.

Back to the Sisters of Dark, they continued their discussion about their travel plans.

"We do plan of entering the Gutter along with the boy. At least, Alsanna and I will. Mytha has agreed to wait in Majula." That got some more raised eyebrows. From what Erik and Chloanne knew of the woman from Jugo that had probably been a hard fought argument.

"I'm only staying behind because I have other duties to attend to," the former queen griped, folding her arms. "I want to meet with Carlyle one more time. I cannot abandon him again."

"I understand. Will Raime be joining us?" Erik asked, glancing at the massive dark blue armored knight.

"No. There is something else he must do," Nadalia explained. "I am sending him to Drangleic Castle to observe it. If Nashandra makes a move, I want to be the first to know. I will not let her trample on father's legacy with her mad lust for power."

"Then it will be just me and you two?" Erik inquired.

"And me!"

Again, eyes darted into the distance, near the entrance to the town. Before them Benhart could be seen, power walking towards his returned comrade. His giant glowing sword was slung over his shoulder along with a familiar Bottomless Box.

"I promised to follow you, and I don't plan on going back on my words," the knight announced, stepping up to Erik. He then turned a surprised look to Mytha before bowing.

"It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Aunt Mytha."

"What?" Mytha demanded, taken aback. She leaned closer, peering at the knight before eyes widened in surprise. "Are you… descended from Little Remy?"

"Yes, my ancestor was your younger brother, Prince, and then King, Remari III. It is an honor to meet you."

"I see." A strange smile filled Mytha's face. She still had family. She wasn't alone anymore!

"Now that we've all reunited, I suggest we make haste," Nadalia uttered, leading Erik and his newly returned friend towards the pit. "Nashandra is no fool, and will know something is up after sensing that massive rush of power in the North. She knew Eleum Loyce housed Alsanna, and I fear she may be on the lookout for her."

"Alright then. So, how are we going to do this?" Erik asked. Behind her hair-veil a smirk crept up her lips and she patted the chef's back, coating him a bubble of dark blue Sorcery. She then did the same to Benhart while her sister covered herself in the glow.

"This is an improved Fall Control, which will carry you safely into the depths of the Gutter."

"Um…"

"Well, get to it!" With that, Nadalia slapped Erik's back and sent him toppling down into the pit, a girlish scream fading as he fell. She then turned to Benhart who decided to jump in on his own power and not get pushed.

"Ah, that was fun! Come on sis, let's do this!" Nadalia said, grabbing Alsanna who squeaked in surprise as she was dragged over the edge.

"Well, that was weird," Vengarl said in an utterly deadpan tone, before turning back to the giant tigers and continuing to play with them.

As for Shanalotte, she was massaging her temples trying to stave off an Erik-induced headache.

"Hey, Chloanne. Guess what Erik did to defeat the Ivory King?" Mytha said, leaning in to her gal pal. The ore trader, and against her better judgement the Emerald Herald, turned to listen to the queen's gossip.

\ \ ~ / /

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Erik's screams bounced and echoed along the walls of the pit as he fell. By sheer luck or incredibly good planning he missed each of the wooden platforms as he descended. His speed wasn't too extreme, but it was very uncomfortable falling face down into an impossibly deep and dark pit.

Above him slightly he could hear Benhart and the Sisters plunging along with him. They zoomed down past wooden scaffolds, ledges, and more, never stopping.

After a long while Erik emerged from the pit and was in a sprawling, cavernous area. He could not see the walls or floors, save for a few wooden structures that stood upon towering stilts above an oozing sea of sludge and filth.

Tiny dots of flames wavered around below, held by Hollows or braziers. It was hard to imagine anything could have thrived in the darkness, even Undead.

"Welcome to the Gutter, home of countless sad souls murdered by an uncaring and cruel god."

Erik glanced over to see Nadalia falling beside him. At some point she had caught up. He was more surprised that he could actually hear her over the rushing wind that they created as they dropped.

"Galib, correct? I heard from a crow-woman that he had been cursed for that by turning into a giant rat."

"You heard correctly. Though the fact that you met one of the Darksun's servants is more surprising to me," Nadalia said. She raised a hand and she and Erik angled a bit, their speed decreasing rapidly and soon they landed on a tall, wooden building that was free of Hollows. Alsanna and Benhart landed next to them moments later.

"Dark…sun?" Erik mumbled, wincing as something throbbed inside his soul. Not just his own, but the King, Witch, and Dragon souls reacted as well. They knew that name, somehow.

"Yes, an old being who has survived since the First Flame," Nadalia explained, not noticing Erik's odd reaction. "We have an… understanding of sorts. As long as we do not interfere with the Cycle or the First Flame we are left alone. Of course, now that Nashandra has tried to create a way to control the First Flame I don't know how much longer we'll have before the Darkmoon Blades come for her, and us by extension."

"That is why we must hurry to Elana. She is the strongest of all of us in terms of raw power. The Darksun will hesitate before moving against her and us together," Alsanna continued.

"Got it. So, where to go to get to the soul and the altar," Erik asked as he tried to breathe through his mouth. Countless years of dumping waste had given the underground realm an impossibly foul stench. Erik could feel it literally causing his skin to burn in irritation.

"Below us. We landed on the scaffold that leads down to the entrance of the Black Gulch. That is where the Great Soul resides and where the altar was hidden," Nadalia explained, pointing to a rickety ladder.

With a weary sigh Erik and Benhart descended down into the depths, each creak and groan of ancient timber and rotted wood making them flinch. The Dark Sisters paid no attention to it, and just leapt gracefully off the tower to the ground below, letting their powers control their descent.

At the bottom Erik and the crew encountered a few semi-naked Hollows running around. They were dealt with easily, and there was a sense of disappointment in the knight from Jugo as the pathetic state of the foes.

"This was easy," Erik said, surprised at the ease with which they'd made their way deep into the earth. There were no more Hollows, but now a sickly green light began to spill out from below. Following it, the gang ended up stepping into a bizarre region.

Dozens of grey statues of a cowled maiden littered the area, though they were covered in luminous green sludge. This ooze lit up the whole area, providing the only sources of light in the entire region.

"Here we are, the Black Gulch. Tread carefully as that pretty green stuff? Insanely toxic. Strong enough to affect an Undead."

"Got it Nadalia. Should we rest at that bonfire for a bit?" Erik suggested, jabbing his thumb at the short tunnel that ran nearby and led to one of those mythical piles of burning bones.

"Why not." With that the group made their way to the pulsing flames and let them soothe them. However the Sisters kept their distance, the light of the bonfire making them uncomfortable.

"Done?" Nadalia asked and Erik nodded, strapping his Bottomless Box onto his back. Benhart stood as well, adjusting his sword.

"So what sort of foes should we expect down here?"

"Bugs and maybe some Hollows. This area is fairly tame compared to the other areas you've been to," Alsanna said softly. "The real danger lies in actually getting here."

"Fair enough," Erik said and the team walked out. Two holes along the wall suddenly burst out with a pair of giant thrashing centipede-like worms.

"By the gods! Are those Carrion Worms?! Those are huge!" Benhart exclaimed as the massive insects snapped at them.

"Erik, those things are weak against fire. Burn them," Nadalia said coldly. The chef nodded and conjured up a Fireball, tossing it at the first of the monsters. It burned the creatures hide and it retreated into its hole with a screech. Another burst of flames drove off the second of them, and the group advanced. Carefully though.

There progressed was halted by a collection of oozing black pools of liquid. It was strange, as they were radiating a faint ozone tang. There was magic in the air. It made the Sisters stiffen in shock and peer at the liquid with surprise.

"Erik, Benhart, stay back!" Nadalia warned. "That is raw essence of Dark! But, that shouldn't be possible!"

As she spoke one of the pools erupted and a disturbing monster lunged at the Undead. It looked like a giant massive hand crawling along on deformed legs and both Erik and Benhart let out screams of terror.

With a panicked roar Benhart unleashed the Sorcery contained in his blade and split the creature in half with a shockwave of energy. It melted into a puddle of sludge. The monster reminded Erik of those long armed beasts from the Wharf.

"This should not be possible… the Darkness couldn't have spilled out this much…" Nadalia worried, pacing a bit.

"Sister, what about the Shadow Altars? If I recall one of those was around here. If something disturbed it then it is possible the Dark leaked out," Alsanna suggested.

"What is going on?" Erik demanded. The sisters shared a look before turning to the Undead.

"Those things were Hollows completely submerged in the powers of Darkness. Normally the Abyss from whence the taint came is contained and kept sealed by a series of artifacts. But it appears that they were interfered with and now the energy we've kept hidden is leaking out into the world. Forgive us, but we must go check on the Shadow Altar to make sure it is still intact. Go one without us. We'll meet up with you after you obtain the Soul you need. After that we'll continue on to Shulva."

"Fine then. I suppose there's nothing else to be done," Erik griped. "We'll meet up later. Let's go Benhart. I want to get out of here as quickly as we can. I dislike being underground."

The party separated, the Undead running down to a far off fog gate while dodging more hand-monsters. As for the Sisters they just jumped off a ledge and plunged into the depths of the cavern.

"So, you don't like being below the earth?" Benhart asked as they reached the boss's domain.

"No. It reminds me too much of the crypts in the Lightning Palace. Those places terrified me as a boy. Especially after I got locked down there one time. I've never really gotten over that trauma. Not to mention I've been having bad experiences with cramped, dark places ever since I arrived in Drangleic," Erik admitted.

"Hmm. Well, shall we see what lies beyond?" The knight stepped up to swirling mist and slipped through, the chef following closely behind.

An overpower stench slammed into Erik as he entered the sealed off region. In front of him were lakes of burning oil that cast dancing shadows everywhere.

But worst of all was a seething lump rotting flesh and flailing limbs. Dozens of Hollows had been crammed together to create a disgusting facsimile of a humanoid being. It all moved with one will, twisted into a single bloated monstrosity.

It was trying to fix some of the statues that littered the area. With a groan it placed a broken off head onto a bust, but it refused to stick. As the head tumbled off, the abomination roared in fury, before it sensed the intruders.

Bloodlust filled the area and the mashed up monster turned to face the Undead. Erik winced as his vision went red, and his souls clamored inside him.

"What should we do?" Benhart asked, griping his sword in both hands.

"Circle around and keep your distance. Just rain Sorcery bursts onto it. I'll do the same but with fire and ice. I don't want to get close to that thing if we can help it," Erik instructed. The knight from Jugo nodded in agreement and raised his sword above his head, bring it down with a cry and a rippling wave of cutting magic.

The attack slammed into the abomination, and severed its arm. However, arms shot from the stump and grasped onto the removed limb, dragging it back to the main body and reattaching it with sickening squelches.

"Ok, that's gross," Erik groaned. He raised his left hand and sent Fireballs and Ice Spikes into the mass of Hollows. Those attacks did some damage, but the rotten flesh quickly knitted back together.

"Benhart, lure that creature into the burning oil! If we keep it in there we should be able to burn it down so the regeneration cannot work!" Erik said, trying to push the monster into the flaming ditches.

"Alright, got it!" Benhart unleashed wave after wave of crushing Sorcery upon the abomination as Erik used his Pyromancy to drive the beast back. It worked slowly. For all its mass, the twisted pile of limbs and corpses was weak and easily herded into the largest of the blazing ditches.

It screeched and staggered. Erik's plan was working, but the monster had far too much vitality. Its regeneration was fast and was able to keep up with the fires that crawled up it. Still, with the constant barrage of magic It slowly began to collapse, the bodies falling apart and thus the rest of the body.

With a groan the Rotten collapsed, spilling into a pile of burning corpses and offal.

"Did we do it?" Benhart asked. With a scream the corpses shot up, reforming among the flames.

"Nope," Erik sighed. He was annoyed. This thing was hardly a challenge and except for its healing factor was fairly weak. He just continued to throw Pyromancy onto the Rotten, and Benhart swung his blade.

It took thirty minutes of constant attacking before the monster finally succumbed. A gush of souls filled them, and two giant gold and orange souls popped up in front of Erik. He sighed and closed his eyes, letting the souls enter him and the memories embrace him.

Suffering. Pain and agony. There was nothing. No light. No peace. Surrounded by corpses of friends and family. Crying. Screaming. But there was suddenly a blinding presence.

A woman. Beautiful despite the decay and filth. Her soul was pure white. An impossible existence. Yet she existed. Pure. Holy. Caring. Loving.

She stepped over the carpet of corpses. Her flesh was ravaged by the disease that also were also inflicted with. Yet she smiled. And smiled. And never forsook them.

In honor they made monuments to her. Statues and carvings. They were her slaves. Her disciples. She was a saint. A goddess.

She spoke of a man. A knight. She waited for him. She knew he would return one day. But he never came. The sickness claimed her. In sorrow they surrounded her. Kept her close. Weeping. Praying for her.

The many became one to guard her tomb forever. They refused to leave her. Her soul became theirs. All became one.

The disjointed memories of hundreds of people faded, leaving Erik with a headache. Then the second set of past lives filled him.

A towering mound of bones and souls knelt before an impossibly vast fire of golden hue. It took a dancing ember into its skeletal palm before turning to where Erik's perspective looked on.

Hello, young one.

Wait, what?

Ah, apologies. This is probably a surprise. None of the other souls were able to communicate with you like this. The skull-man bobbed politely. It slid over to Erik.

You may call me Nito, first of the dead. I was one of the four who claimed the original Lord Souls. In my dominion over death I have a chance to help you. I do not have long to speak, so let me give you some advice.

It coughed, an odd dry clicking sound, before placing a hand on Erik's shoulder. The chef shuddered at the touch but continued to look up at his visitor.

In the great crypts below the Castle of Vendrick, tell my sons and daughters the time has come to open the first coffin. You'll recognize them by the name they carry. Then, you must find the Thrice Born Witch. She is the key to the Throne and the Fire. And last but not least, gather the crowns and the souls. When you do, the truth will be found.

Um… what is going on?

Goodbye, Erik Potts. I am glad to see you again, and under much better circumstances. Be safe.

Erik was forcibly shot out of the memories and fell to his knees. Vertigo flooded his mind and he grunted in pain and annoyance.

"What the hell was that?" He murmured.

"Are you alright Erik?" He looked up to see Benhart and the Sisters looking down at him with concern.

"Yeah, just… confused." He sighed and stood up. "Let's just go to Shulva already."