FIRELINK SHRINE
"Hm? No, no, I'm fine, I'm fine! Well and wide awake! Do not-!"
Kingseeker Frampt looked about the chapel, but there was no one there. In the distance, one of the Bells of Awakening rang loud and clear, reverberating in his ear-pits and giving him a wicked headache.
"Has that blasted bird Chosen another Undead so soon? I wasn't told the last one went hollow."
QUELAAG'S DOMAIN
"What a racket," Vamos grumbled as he released the lever. "I should unhook this, or some idiot will ring it later and spoil my focus."
As the skeletal smith began to fiddle with the Bell's mechanisms, in one of the new chambers Sen had constructed below, Quelaag lifted a brilliant scarlet and gold veil and stooped to kiss Lex. She wore the top half of a flowing black robe with intricate vine patterns adorning it, the bottom cut away so as not to blind her spider. He wore a showy orange cloak and skirt that bared his midriff and much of his legs. Quelaag had elaborate patterns drawn across her skin, while Lex had a ball of flame drawn on his forehead with an ashen pencil. As they started to pull away, Quelaag bit his lip with her razor-like teeth and licked at the blood.
Lex blinked at the minor pain and suckled on the sore spot as the guests applauded. The ceremony had been an odd mixture of Londish and Izalithic customs, not that he was familiar with either. He'd attended a cousin's wedding once – for the cake – but had been so terribly bored, he'd forgotten what even a Christian wedding was like. Still, this ceremony had involved lighting a lot of things on fire, so he was at least able to pay attention to his own wedding. Hopefully, the cake wouldn't be as disappointing as his cousin's had.
Someone with a terrible sense of humor had made the tiered cake in the shape of one of Izalith's pagodas. This of course raised the question as to which of the Izalith group was secretly a patissier. Unexpectedly, it was chocolate. Though once he saw that, he probably should have expected it to be dark chocolate. He struggled to maintain a straight face through the hated flavor as he and Quelaag fed each other.
With that, the ceremony was more or less over, and everyone formed a loose line for cake. Since everyone was either Undead or non-human, there were no other refreshments. Quelara had claimed some sort of sacred rule about being the presiding priestess to force her way to the front of the line, and now she approached the couple, the blacksmith Andre in tow. Lex wasn't sure who had convinced him to come down to New Izalith(?), but there he had been amongst the others during the ceremony.
"I know you were told not to expect anything on such short notice, but I lied," Quelara said smugly. "We needed to test our infrastructure, so I decided to be generous and give you something, my dear brother."
She waved to Andre, who was wearing a nice tunic and slacks. He held up something wrapped in a heavy black cloth. He unraveled it to reveal a massive ringed dao. The sleek curved blade and violent hamon were characteristic of Izalith, but the intricately-patterned brass rings were just as distinctly Londish.
"I had Andre here and Vamos work on it together to see if they could play nice. Honestly, I was at a loss as for what to get you. What worth is anything to one who can't die? So I thought, why not a sword to match your armor? I can hear my husband complaining about the racket already."
Lex took the sword from the cloth gently with both hands, sliding them into position as he turned it upright and felt the weight.
"You know," he said softly, in a trance, "in the far future, clerics use chimes instead of talismans."
He turned so that he was looking down an empty space in the ballroom and began chanting under his breath.
Power up the bass cannon. Fire.
He swung hard, and as the rings jangled, there was an explosion of sound that caused the cake to quiver.
Duran Durandal
Curved greatsword forged for the prophet of
the music-loving Chaos God Slaanesh.
The brass rings studding the back make a
terrible cacophony that unleashes the power
of She Who Thirsts when held with both hands.
Quelaag gave the three a nasty glare, so Lex sheepishly strapped the sword to his back, solemnly placing his trusty claymore into his manpurse of holding. Quelara pat him on the back.
"Just so you know, we never found out whether her species eats their mates since they were all female. Good luck with that."
She waved flippantly and walked away to speak with Jeremiah. Andre waggled his bushy eyebrows suggestively and gave him a thumbs-up before finding an isolated corner to eat his cake in peace. Lex looked around awkwardly, adrift in a sea of people and not wanting to intrude on any conversations. Oscar had left to visit with Anastacia, so there wasn't anyone he would deliberately annoy around. At last, he noticed that Kirk was likewise standing by himself.
The Knight of Thorns had stopped wearing his helmet while he was "home." His hair was curly and black, his skin pale, and his nose hooked. Though his mutations had left his face mostly unaffected, his eyes glowed with an inner light that was somewhat unnerving.
"So," Lex started. "You're next, I guess?"
The knight took another bite before speaking.
"Laav and I have a few things to work out first."
"Yeah, I guess that reveal would be a bit hard to deal with."
They both took a bite of cake, even though Lex had been avoiding eating any more. They chewed slowly, deliberately, neither wanting to be the first to speak.
"I'm going to go talk to the wife," the cleric said at last.
"Good luck."
"Is that going to be a thing now?"
"Pardon?"
"Quelaag eating me because spider joke."
"Well. She bites everyone's head off all the time. Now, you're the easiest target. Good luck."
"Shazbot."
Nevertheless, he did wander back toward Quelaag, who was apparently being scolded by Quelaav.
"There you are," the former spider- and current bird-woman said. "How is your lip? Quelaag thought I wouldn't notice. Honestly, I don't know why she's so fond of playing rough."
"Uh, it's fine, I guess. It's not like I've never played with my food."
Quelaag sighed raggedly.
"Sister is still making that joke, then."
"Yeah, but she gave me loot, so it's okay I guess."
"Yes, we all noticed."
While they were distracted, her spider whipped out its long tongue and stole Lex's cake.
"No! Bad!"
Quelaag swatted the back of its head, but if anything, it seemed to chuckle – which was unnerving coming from a spider. Still, there was hardly any time to continue scolding it as a strange rapping noise began to echo through the room. The guests looked among themselves for the sound, but it was several moments before the source became apparent. A skeleton in a fancy funeral suit entered through the double-doors, leaning heavily on a cane that was really just a colossal femur. It put one finger to its bare teeth from embarrassment.
"Oh, dear. I'm terribly sorry about this. It would seem that I misjudged just how much this bum leg of mine slows me down. Please, as you were."
Despite that, they all watched as the walking, talking skeleton strolled right up to the trio as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"I know it's not your special day today, Quelaav, but I simply have to congratulate you on your spectacular recovery. I do hope you'll be able to work out that dreadful misunderstanding so that you'll be standing here soon. Don't be too hard on young Kirk – knights are prideful creatures at heart."
"Thank you very much," Quelaav said reflexively.
"Ah, and here we have the happy couple. I hope you will make the most of your short time together. Here, I brought a small-"
"Short time?" Quelaag interrupted.
"Oh, yes. A shame, but such is the way of things."
"Explain yourself, abomination," the demon spider woman hissed, lifting the skeleton by his collar.
"It is the fate of the Chosen Undead to succeed Gwyn and offer his soul to the Flame. Well, perhaps I was mistaken. It may not be possible to use the Lord Souls to gain entry to the Kiln now, since the fratricide involved would be rather distasteful."
Quelaag turned her head slowly, fire burning in her eyes. She looked at the skeleton, then at Lex, then at Quelaav, then back at the skeleton.
"I was, uh, going to try using a different soul…?" the prophet said awkwardly.
Quelaav frowned.
"If my life must end to restore the Flame, then I-"
"NO!"
Quelaag threw the skeleton across the room. The old bones did an admirable job of staying together, considering that the demon was angry enough that her veil had caught fire.
"You!" she snarled at Lex.
"I was going to figure something out!" he said quickly. "I don't want to permanently die either, and I'm not about to just kill anyone… except Seath."
"Now, now, calm down," Siegmeyer said through a mouthful of cake. He swallowed and continued, "Just think positive. If there's one thing I've learned from traveling with the prophet, it's that when you run flat up against a wall, you should look for a different route."
"Well said, young man!" the skeleton said, dusting himself off ineffectually. "This is a matter of grave severity, but lateral thinking may be the key to an unforeseen outcome! You'll have to forgive me for being negative and morbid, dear Quelaag. Being dead tends to turn one's thoughts toward death."
He bowed his bony head.
"I am deeply sorry for having spoiled the festivities. I brought a gift that I believe may be of use to the groom in a conflict to come. I am afraid that it may be a bit crumpled, now."
He slipped one hand into a coat pocket and removed a small scroll and handed it to Priscilla, who was nearest.
"I will see myself out. Until we meet again."
He left as suddenly as he came, his cane clacking on the stone floor until it could be heard no longer.
"So who was that?" Lex wondered out loud.
"Don't change the subject, 'dear,'"Quelaag hissed.
"What? I said I wasn't going to do anything stupid! I don't even know how the Lordvessel works! So I was going to do something stupid and start throwing other souls in it. Like this one."
He quickly withdrew Manus' soul from his bag. It writhed and spat and tried to jump out of his hand, but he quickly grabbed hold of it and stuffed it back inside.
"Aaaaand worst-case scenario, we can try out time paradoxes. Huh. If we could invent bonfire ascetics, we could just farm the Lord souls. I don't know why that's not a valid ending in Two. Come on, B-Team, get it together."
Quelaag gave a long sigh, blowing a thick trail of smoke from her mouth.
"You see, Quelaag," Quelaav said pleasantly, "Brother Prophet knew what he was doing. There's no need for you to be angry at him – especially not today."
"Can't I say the same about Kirk?" she grumbled back.
"That's-!"
She licked her lips but couldn't find the words.
"I will consider that, Sister."
Lex smirked and walked over to where Priscilla and Sieglinde were standing.
"So what did the spooky scary skeleton get me?"
"Ah, here," the crossbreed said awkwardly, quickly handing him the scroll.
He unrolled it without hesitation, looking at the strange repeating symbols. He blinked and looked again to confirm his suspicion.
"This isn't what it looks like where I come from, but this is sheet music, isn't it?"
He angled it so that Priscilla and Sieglinde could see as well.
"Not like any that I've seen, but I think so," the knightess said, nodding.
"This is a vocal score," the half-demigod agreed, remembering her formal education.
"Master Lex, if I may be sold bold as to make a request of you…" Laurentius said quickly.
"Hm?"
"Please don't sing. You haven't much talent for it."
"Then I'll do it," Quelaag grumbled as she approached.
It was a simple but haunting aria. As she sang, the Undead and the other Daughters began to grow unsteady on their feet, struggling to keep their eyes open. The demon bride was forced to stop, indignant, halfway through when Siegmeyer began to snore.
"That was the, uh," Lex started as he shook himself awake, "the milfanito theme. Oh man, that's worse than I would have expected. It puts, uh, something vague, to sleep. Dark mutants or something. Floridians. But it affects Dark in general, I guess."
"Milf of Nito?" Quelara chuckled.
"Yeah, that's what I said when I first heard it."
"More importantly, dear Brother, you said something about 'farming' the Lord Souls. What does that turn of phrase mean and how quickly can we start?"