Glad to be out of the misty swamp…
… not so glad to be in the midst of vastly overgrown crayfish.
At least those gods-forsaken crabs along the Siofra River did not spit at me.
Still, just like with Godrick the Grafted and Roderika, perhaps the sweetest of hearts are only found after the worst of beasts.
Some aren't found quite as hoped, unfortunately for the scion of the Hoslow lineage.
Diallos, that cordial and elegant nobleman who'd first been standing in the Roundtable Hold a while ago, found his servant girl Lanya.
He had lost her so many times, her 'tomboy' nature driving her to run off again and again.
He found her on a piece of muddy rubble, and lost her for good. He would find the trash who had left her there.
He would find the resolve to act that previously deserted him.
"The tale of House Hoslow is told in blood.
I, Diallos, swear to deliver the message."
Another young lady dead, bloody, and a knight left behind to pick up the pieces with only vengeance for company. Edgar and Irina all over again.
It made the knight who heard this vow think of his dear-and-beloved Roderika, and the way she may have ended up had Godrick dragged her into Stormveil for grafting.
Something told him that his soldiers wouldn't have hauled her to their Lord straight away… that she would not have been spared her womanly dignity.
Though it had been quite some time since his fateful duel with the Lord of all that is Golden, he still dreaded the awful half-shiver that appeared at the thought.
Across the surface of the same lake where one woman ended up slain, another found her champion… or so she called him. The blonde scout under the pavilion, that sweet girl Rya, also reminded him of Roderika. Another kindly golden-haired maiden, only with vastly less initial gloom about her and considerably worse present posture, it became his priority to retrieve her necklace from the ruffian down the way.
Arthur always did seem to end up assisting blondes. Irina (for all it was worth), Roderika, Hyetta (if you count discouraging a woman from eating eyeballs as 'assisting') and now Rya. If Fia needed it he'd surely help her, too, but something told him that she could take care of herself. Their names all ended with the same letter, as well. Perhaps he had certain attractions, or perhaps blondies were simply genetically predisposed to be of the damsel type.
Arthur was, as you know, a sucker for damsels.
"Greetings. Do y-"
The man in the iron mask turned to regard him with equal parts wariness and irritation. He had been distracted from his important task of boiling what appeared to be prawn, sitting beside a cozy shack.
"What are you lookin' at? You trying to start something, mate?"
This is evidently the 'ruffian' she described. I tried to be civil, but… well, he started it!
"As a matter of fact, yes. I want the necklace. I take it you have fallen into the habit of swindling helpless women out of their jewelry, but here is where it ends, you perfidious knave. Hand it over."
The rough man, garbed in ragged, thin prisoner's garments, let out a laugh. It was quite clearly mocking and dismissive.
"Oh, that necklace what you're after, is it?"
"As I said, yes, it is."
The knight folded his arms. He summoned all of the stern, authoritative presence that he could exude.
"Hmm, well... show me what it's worth to you, and I'll consider parting ways with it. I'm not in love with it or nothing."
Of course. He would like payment for something that is not even his… why expect any less?
"You will not get a single rune from me, criminal. The alternative to simply handing it over, you conniving convict, is that I 'part' your head from your shoulders with my greatsword…"
Arthur unfolded his arms to point a thumb over his shoulder, towards the sword.
"... and rifle through your body's pockets myself. Think on that before you jump to extorting me for stolen property."
If the stifling iron mask weren't secured on the man's head, Arthur would have seen very well the annoyance his words brought. The scowl was fierce, and if looks could burn through iron, it would.
"Think you're bloody clever, do ya? Then how about you piss off, 'fore I crack you in 'alf?"
Without thinking, the knight let his hand fly up to grasp the weapon's hilt. Passion overtook civility, if only briefly, and 'briefly' was just long enough. The ruffian grabbed for a pair of spherical iron fists near his chair. They looked like… balls.
"What's your blinkin' problem, ya shithead?! You don't mess with Big Boggart, mate!"
Knight Arthur knew that he would win such a fight barehanded - no, blindfolded - given the fact that he was essentially a walking hunk of steel, while this criminal's shirt hardly even protected his chest from the wind. With a greatsword, he'd gut the man easily.
Still, he would much rather not be forced to do such a thing. He had fought enough with maddened guards and nobles… why stoop further and do so with one of the few coherent humans around?
No… I know that this is the wrong course. Even gruff criminals have the right to live, if only barely. What knight would I be if I jumped straight to bloodshed…? None at all. My vows… would I truly break them already? Do I have such poor character?
Such little conviction?
A sigh came from him, and his hand lowered into making a halting gesture.
Knighthood does not involve the easy… only the right.
"Alright… listen, and listen well. We have evidently gotten to a poor start, but I will compensate you for the necklace. Men kill one another often enough… what use is there in adding? … I take it that you want runes?"
The wariness didn't quite fade, but Boggart settled down very slightly.
"You're a shrewd one, chief. First, you hand me the runes… and don't try nothin', neither."
Reluctantly, the gauntlet-clad hand presented a small pouch of runes. The recipient didn't hesitate to snatch it and finger through its contents. After a few seconds, he looked back up at the knight, seeming to be appeased.
"Hmm... alright. Take it. Thing's no damn use to anyone, anyway. Your bloody idea, mate… don't come crying to me later."
The thief held out Rya's necklace, and the knight took it in his hand, hanging from his fingers by the thin chain. It was a swell piece of jewelry, and it had a relief of a woman. She appeared very dignified; a relative of Rya's, perhaps. They even looked to share the same style of hair.
"Why did you even steal it from Rya in the first place, if it is of no use? I doubt there are many around here who would pay for such a 'useless' item… excepting myself. The merchants have no interest in buying at fair prices, from what I have tried, so why bother?"
The irritation clearly had decreased between them, and the question didn't seem to provoke any more.
"Oh, so you met the girl, did ya? Alright, well, sod the particulars of the matter, but it ain't my fault she's stupid enough to get duped, is it?"
"That is not how morality works. The innocent are not to blame for being exploi-"
"Anyway, she ain't all right, that one. Lucky she ain't died on the bloody roadside, I reckon."
Lucky you "ain't", either.
"As much as I would disagree with the former point, and disagree I do… you have a point. These lands are dangerous… I know firsthand. Why, then, do you seem to be… sitting around boiling shrimp in the middle of this lake without a care in the world? Are you a seafood peddler? If so…
… I am very hungry."
Beneath the mask, Boggart smiled.
"Oh, I see. You want some of me prawn? Freshly cooked, it is. Alright then. It's yours, if you can meet me price."
Within his cuirass, the protected stomach grumbled slightly at 'freshly cooked'.
Now the shithead knight was speaking his language.
"Mmm… oh, my, that is some good food. I can hardly recall the last time I had something so expertly salted…"
All manners went out the shack's window and into the water as Arthur commented with his mouth half-full of 'prawn'. In actuality, it was crayfish, but what did it matter when it filled his stomach just the same?
The steel-clad fighter's gauntlets and helm were set beside the wooden plate that held prawn in its indentation.
Big Boggart looked on with amusement as the knight had something close to an orgasm, only completely non-sexual, over his food's quality. It brought him a strange sense of… camaraderie, sharing his cooking with another fellow at the table.
"Grace must have guided me to this land… so I might know the full joys of food once more! I have not tasted anything like… mmm, like this in months…"
"You're Tarnished, too, ain'tcha? Can you see it, then? The guidance of grace, I mean. I can't see it at all no more. Makes no bloody sense anyway, why some no-name shithead like me should get called to the Lands Between? Cruel bloody joke, you ask me. Maybe something went tits up with it. Maybe... it's been broke for a good, long time. The Erdtree, I'm sayin'."
Arthur stuck his finger up as he scarfed down the last of the prawn from his plate. Once he was done, he impolitely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Mmm… yes, I can. I see grace still… and I seek to become Elden Lord. Maybe the Erdtree is not all that it seems; I will surely find out when I reach the capital. Either way, I hardly think people are just called to the Lands Between for no reason at all. I was called, and… well, the men of my ancestry - we are of a knightly lineage, you see - they have fought nobly in war for centuries under our nation's Lords, but they were not called as I was. I was never even knighted as they were, yet the Erdtree saw fit to choose me. Grace blessed me with the duty, and I took it, alongside the armor and sword of one such ancestor… before they broke, that is. Perhaps there is meaning to be found in all struggle, sought out or given… and a reason for all anointings, even when we feel unworthy."
As ridiculous as it might have sounded, Boggart felt something… very minuscule and silly in him. Even within the dark confines of his iron mask, where he previously thought himself to be empty… there was something. It was illuminated, if only to the slightest degree, and maybe it had always been hidden in the darkness. Maybe it was new. Either way… he couldn't fight the bit of hope - that's what it was, hope - that emerged.
"Ha… if you say so, mate. Want some more prawn?"
"Absolutely."
The Blackguard was more than happy to provide.
Another plate of it was gone faster than it was made, devoured utterly.
"Marika's tits, you must be 'ungry."
"Mmph… yesh, I ahm. Vehry much sho. Knightly bizhnezh… requiresh much from a man. He musht… ahh, must replenish himself somehow. I did not get to be so solid of build by feasting on sunshine; I am no delicate flower, you know."
A light chuckle came from inside the mask.
This knight was no shithead after all.
"... so I followed the voice, and there I saw a gigantic jar embedded into the ground! A jar! 'Iron Fist Alexander', he called himself. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. He had me free him by smacking him with my sword - well, I suppose it would feel like just a 'smack' to someone of his solidity and size. It truly is a fascinating world we live in!"
Two plates of prawn turned into four.
"... the Dung Eater, e's a madman, 'as it out for everyone. Curses 'em. Goes 'round in this rank armor, an' all. You see 'im, though... stay well away. I was in the same gaol as him, once, so I know first 'and. E's a god-forsaken monster, not just some petty thug like me."
Four turned into six.
"... then - get this - he told me to kneel, and in response I taunted him, calling him a beast. He grew supremely angry at that, let me assure you! His golden axe struck me with such wrath that I had to replace my old armor and sword right after. Even with my heavy helm, he put a large wound on my head, damn bloody, and necessitated these bandages. What a battle that was… I ended it by cutting into the bit of his axe with my blade and decapitating him! I tell you, it was simply incredible! The greatest fight of my life!"
Six turned into a whole lot, if it wasn't so already.
"... but she kissed me again, when we were under the stars. I figured her to be uncomfortable in those seconds after I told her, told her of my love for her, but she kissed me. It was… oh, I can hardly fight down the fluttering from the thought of seeing her again."
For an afternoon, the world seemed quite a bit jollier.
Past evening's start, it was time to go once more.
"I would love to return with Roderika in tow sometime. I imagine she will be excited beyond measure to sit down for dinner."
"You're welcome any time, mate."
Outside the shack, the sky was accordingly darker. Those stars he'd seen the night prior seemed like a ravine torn open in the sky, exposing the universe's true beauty for just twelve hours or so.
"You know… you could come along with me on my journey. In addition to a battle partner, I could sure use a plate of shrimp every night after fighting beasts all day. We could even find out what, exactly, has gone on with the Erdtree."
"Hmm, well… much as I'd like to run around with ya, I don't wanna move on from this spot just yet. Got a nice thing going 'ere."
The knight was happy, at least, that the Blackguard would not be closing up shop soon.
"Fair enough, fair enough. In that case… could I take some shrimp to go?"
"Ha… never met someone with a taste for prawns I couldn't trust. We'd make good mates, I reckon. I'll be seeing ya."
Before the steel gauntlet was secured back onto it, the knight contacted his fist with that of Boggart in a show of brotherhood. If all the Tarnished in Liurnia were such good company as he and Thops, then perhaps the fight towards the throne wouldn't be so lonely after all.