Firebomb (Dark Souls III):
Bisque urn filled with black powder.
Explodes, inflicting fire damage. Fire damage, which differs from physical damage, is highly effective against creatures of flesh, beasts, and other foes that might naturally have cause to fear the flame.
As they made their way through the Undead Burg, Oscar couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The encounter with the hollow soldiers had left him shaken, the revelation about his armor had only added to his growing list of worries, and knowing the near-mythical Taurus and Capra demons were real sure as hell wasn't much of a relief. Neither his savior nor his goddamn sister were telling him anything, presumably until they felt it was 'appropriate to do so', and he could only wait until they felt the time was right to reveal everything, the fucking prophets. He gripped his sword tightly as the three walked through ruined, overgrown streets strewn with corpses and broken weapons, waiting for the next ambush. Every flickering shadow of the leafy-green moss that carpeted the Burg made his heart beat faster, and the sound of fire echoed through the impossibly vertical streets, cobbled together like a patchwork of streets that wound around, under, over, and between each other. He thanked the undead curse for dulling his sense of smell as he saw a pile of burning bodies far below, wincing as a near-naked hollow began to clamber up the wall, only to be kicked off into the fire by the Chosen Undead, joining the only reprieve from mossy greens and grays that the ruined Burg offered.
Not again.
Anastacia kept a watchful eye on Oscar, her concern for her brother evident in her every movement, every unconscious twitch of her eyes toward him. As they navigated through the dark and narrow streets, finally opening up into rooftops and battlements, she couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. The Undead Burg was a treacherous place, filled with hollows and ruin, but they weren't the true danger to Oscar.
No, that would be Anastacia herself. The humanity in her waiting to lash out. After she had consumed the hollow that had attacked Oscar, sapped the last vestiges of humanity out of its Darksign, she could feel the wisps of life crawling in her stomach, inside her skin, waiting to burst out again. She knew how to hold a spear now. The hollow had known how, and its scattered memories now graced her mind.
War, blood, death. Death again, again, and then a final death, by…me.
As she stared at her own face through the hollow's eyes, she marveled at how much chaos danced in her soulless eyes, how much untamed rage roiled in her, waiting to devour, consume, defile.
That short detour to the roof above the aqueduct was ample time for the Chosen Undead to observe their companions. Anastacia was…alright. Oscar? Less alright. They had work to do if the siblings were to stay in one piece, mentally and physically. Perhaps Solaire would help. All that was between them and him was a Black Knight, the Taurus Demon, and a few hollows.
Perhaps the bonfire would calm their companions' nerves.
The bonfire did not calm their nerves.
Oscar lay with his head in Anastacia's lap as she gazed into the fire, yet in the twitch of his hands toward his weapons, and his constant palming of the Firebombs in his pocket, the two were nowhere near mentally relaxed.
Anastacia stared into the flickering flames, still lost in her thoughts. She couldn't shake off the image of Oscar's life nearly being taken away by the hollow soldiers. It was a harsh reminder of the dangers they faced in Lordran. Her grip on the Estus Flask tightened, finding comfort in the flask's warmth.
By the doorway, the Chosen Undead surveyed the area.
The world's responding.
No hollows were atop the balconies, firebombs at the ready. Across the bridge that they normally would have to run, the room that housed a doorway to the Lower Burg lay abandoned.
Fuck.
"We need to go."
Anastacia was lulled out of her daze as Oscar leapt upright. In less than a second, his sword and shield were ready, his Estus bottle eat his side, and the visor of his helm was flipped down.
"Ready for orders." Anastacia raised an eyebrow. Her brother was never this…collected. What happened?
Oh right. I happened.
"Now." Came the gentle yet firm reminder as the Chosen Undead hefted a gigantic axe over their shoulder.
Anastacia quickly got up. As the siblings exited the small building that housed the bonfire, the Chosen Undead gestured to the empty building across the bridge. "Can you sense?"
"I-I'm not sure. Let me try." Anastacia knelt, closing her eyes as she loosened her grip on the humanity inside her. The dark mass inside shifted, forward, then left, splitting into sprites that tugged her. In the distance, she could feel a response. Then two. Then sixteen.
"They're clustered behind the roof of that building," Anastacia said, pointing at the building where three hollows usually would barrage bridge crossers with firebombs. "And the tower on the left."
The Chosen Undead sighed, before their left hand began to glow with orange light, shrouded in flame that lapped at their hand. they flicked their hand ever so lightly–and a gigantic ball of flame exploded out of their hand, soaring over the rooftop before exploding behind it. Almost immediately, the sound of groans and metal clanking filled the air.
"After you."
Oscar sprinted forward, barely giving the bridge a side glance as he ran through the building. As he reached the foot of the stairs, he looked up to see the undead soldiers, some of them with armor charred and flesh burnt by the Chosen Undead's fireball.
"You like fire, don't you?" He taunted, before he began to lob the firebombs he had bought at the descending hollows.
Five. Four. Three. Two.
The firebombs found their mark, exploding in fiery bursts amongst the undead soldiers. And engulfing the descending hollows in flames. Their bodies writhed in agony before crumbling to ash.
Oscar raised his shield above his head, before bracing himself and charging upward. As he slammed into the next hollow, it stumbled as it was forced backward, and Oscar began to furiously slash at it. As it staggered back, two new wounds decorating its chest, Oscar lunged and drove his sword into its chest, averting his eyes as red stained the blade of his sword.
I'm fine. Everything is fine. Everything- He ducked as a firebomb flew over his head, exploding into flame far below. As another hollow began to descend, sword and shield at the ready. Suddenly, it lunged forward, and Oscar raised his shield. The impact sent him stumbling back from the force of the blow, dull pain spreading through his arm. The hollow raised its sword, preparing to swing. Its muscles tensed, eyes narrowed, and just as it jumped, Oscar threw his last firebomb.
And missed.
As the bomb flew just past the soldier, the explosion sent it falling forward. As it landed on top of him, Oscar instinctively flipped it onto its back, before slashing in a blind panic. It raised its shield, both hands grasping the lifesaving metal. Oscar drove the sword down again and again, and the sword began to glow, softly pulsing with light as magical energy began to coalesce around it.
In a desperate motion, Oscar forced the sword down, and the enchantment cut straight through the shield, decapitating the hollow.
As it crumbled to dust, Oscar slowly staggered upright, wiping the blood of his visor as he leaned against the wall, before another explosion behind him forced him forward as he hid inside the building the firebombers were perched on. As he leaned against the wall and took a breath, his danger sense immediately kicked into high alert and he ducked as two more hollows' almost feral sword swings caught the wall behind him.
Cornered. Shit.
As Oscar tried to regain his footing, a sudden surge of energy swept through the air, and Oscar felt pain surge through his Darksign, pain that made his legs weak as the two hollows froze in place.
"Don't touch him!" Anastacia's scream rang out, and Oscar swore the hollows' eyes filled with fear before they stumbled forward, collapsing onto their knees and convulsing in pain, their bodies contorting and crumbling under the intense pressure as their chests melted, a cavernous hole of viscera leaking onto the ground, splattering onto Oscar's armor as they were reduced to nothing. Anastacia's eyes glowed with an otherworldly light as she tapped into the very essence of her humanity. The power surged through her, an unstoppable force that sought to protect her brother at any cost.
As the last of the hollows dissolved, Anastacia's hand trembled. The tension tearing at her stomach relaxed as she fell to the ground, breathing heavily.
"A…na…" Oscar finally found the strength inside him to move as he scrambled away from the remnants of the two hollows, holding in a retch. "Ana. Are you alright?"
"I'm…fine. I can walk." Nevertheless, Anastacia accepted her brother's bloodied hand.
With a quick nod, the two ascended the stairs to see a crossbow-wielding hollow riddled with bolts, and the Chosen Undead, bringing down their gigantic axe with such force that the hollow soldier in front of them was completely vertically bisected, its shield crumpled like paper. As another spear-wielding hollow prepared to thrust, the Chosen Undead parried its attack with such force that its shield arm was thrown to the side, and the axe rammed into its side, sending it over the railing.
They turned to the siblings. "Stay behind me." Was all that was offered, before once more the sound of metal clanking filled the air as seven hollow soldiers came into view, beginning their ascent up the stairs.
Oscar readied his sword and Anastacia quickly scrambled up the ladder, averting her eyes from the pulverized bodies of the firebomb hollows.
The Chosen Undead dropped the axe to the floor, before slowly stepping forward, axehead scraping against the floor as they broke into a sprint, charging directly into the hollows before slashing wide, and the magical force that emanated from the Golem Axe sent the hollows flying, the one that caught the physical head of the axe slamming into the wall and exploding into dust. As the group was staggered, Oscar charged, joining the Chosen Undead in cutting down the hollows.
Blood sprayed through the air as Oscar cut at the hollows staggered by the Chosen Undead's attack. As they brought down their axe again and again to the sound of crunching bone and crumpling metal, Oscar would always follow up with a quick stab and a slash. Each thundering impact of the Chosen Undead's axe cracked the warped tiles, dust flying as Oscar slid across the floor, his sword finding purchase in a hollow's stringy leg as he grabbed it by the shoulder and threw it off the battlements.
The crowd of hollows began to thin, each strike of the Chosen Undead's axe dividing the group into smaller, comprehensible portions, one-on-one problems that Oscar could handle. While the Chosen Undead kept their eyes locked on the center hollows, Oscar ran around, poking and taking quick slashes at any disoriented hollow.
With every hollow that died, Anastacia could feel the tugging, the voices inside begging her to go, to consume and absorb the bodies. Her knuckles grew white as her grip on the wooden planks tightened. She could still feel the hollows' movements, even with her eyes closed. Four nearly-identical ones on her left, and the two on her right, the Chosen Undead's Darksign pulsing with power and…
Wait, that's not Oscar.
She had never felt the pull of Oscar's Darksign.
The last hollow fell as the Golem Axe struck it with such force that it was completely decapitated. The Chosen Undead shrugged, before kneeling down as they began to inspect the hollows' bodies. As Oscar caught his breath, leaning against the wall and slowly sinking onto his bottom, Anastacia scrambled upright.
"Look out!" She yelled frantically. "On your right!"
Oscar's eyes snapped open and his head jerked to the right, instinctively reaching for his sword as-
Crunch.
The obsidian black sword dragged upward, painfully slowly, from its initial position in the Chosen Undead's stomach. Oscar could hear the crunch of each individual rib breaking as blood leaked down their body, before the sword was torn out through their neck in a spray of blood that carpeted Oscar's legs, and the Chosen Undead–or rather what remained of them–crumpled to the ground, Green Blossom falling out of their hand as their upper body split open.
An armored foot came down on the Chosen Undead's skull, stomping it into paste, and the smell of brimstone and cinders filled the air as the Black Knight slowly strode around the corner.
Character tags: Anastacia "Radar" of Astora, Oscar "I'm in danger" of Astora, Chosen "Claire A Mr. X" Undead, Black "G-1" Knight
