“Lady Sif?”
I started, blinking and making eye contact with Celia.
We’d spoken occasionally, small things primarily- I didn’t want to spook her by asking too much about her time here in Lordran, given how unsettled she seemed to be about the place she’d been dumped. Mostly her childhood, with me filling in the details of my knowledge of the world outside of Lordran. Celia had grown up in a small kingdom called Fiana, which apparently was just a few nations away from Carim. However, the Undead Curse had seen it overrun with Undead and Way of White followers hunting said Undead. Celia, who’d been city guard when she’d been shanked by a back-alley thief and come back, couldn’t attest to its current status… but, I’d gathered that, at best, the descriptive word for it would be ‘desperate’.
What was interesting, in a way, was her elaboration on when she’d said she’d only held a wooden sword before. Apparently, guards are trained in the use of spears and daggers instead of actual swords- though, in retrospect, that did make a large amount of sense. A sword was an expensive and finely-crafted weapon for knights and nobility, where-as spears and daggers would be much cheaper to manufacture in numbers. I was pretty sure that was how it had worked in medieval times back home, as well.
Without my notice, however, my staring into the bonfire… I shook my head as I felt the tiny golden thread of a link to the Flame shimmer and sever itself. Apparently, it wasn’t just Undead that could be pulled into the time dilation of the bonfire’s magic. I’d wager that anything with a soul to anchor the link would end up affected by it, though I wondered…
The thought turned in my head as I began the slow, careful process of extracting myself from the archway. I’d managed to fit my head and front paws through, but the rest of my body occupied most of the small space just outside of the Crest door. It wasn’t built for a creature the approximate size and weight of a tank. To be fair… the majority of Lordran wasn’t. I was gonna have to figure out if there was a way to consciously change my size, or… I’d be doing a lot of jumping and climbing, going forward.
I managed to pull myself out without collapsing the whole structure, which was a relief, but it still managed to shower me with dust. I shook myself… then realized what I was doing, and stopped, carefully turning towards the person that had addressed me.
With just a touch of surprise, I realized that I recognized them- one of the semi-visible knights of the Forest Protectors, the ones that don’t respawn once you beat them. Right now, however, he was fully visible, sword sheathed at his side and shield slung over his back. I couldn’t see his face behind the visor of his helm, but the way he stood spoke of a man relaxed, at ease, despite the way that his hand curled just slightly over his sword’s hilt and his helm turned side to side. Martial readiness, or was he just used to being randomly jumped by the shrub things?
Another little twitch of surprise as he bowed respectfully to me, armour softly clanking. “Lady Alvina has requested your presence, if you are not busy…?” he glanced between my legs into the little bonfire clearing.
Huh. I wonder how much time passed? If, well, if it had passed, and if whatever Alvina had called me for was something that had happened from her perspective and not mine…? With all the parallel timelines and worlds running all simultaneously in Dark Souls, I couldn’t even make a good guess. For all I knew, it’d been days from her perspective and only hours from mine. After all, someone could spend practically in-game weeks farming and not have it affect the storylines of the characters. Really, who knew how the passage of time worked when you didn’t actually have eyes on somebody.
“Lead on.” I gestured with a paw towards the Crest door and the knight nodded, turning towards it. I half-turned my head at a slight shuffling noise, finding Celia, helmet back on, standing at my side. I nodded and turned back towards the Crest.
Okay, so, er… how was I going to handle this? The door was definitely far too small for my large frame, and from the way the knight slowed and turned his helmeted head as he reached it, he was realizing that himself. I gave the archway a contemplative look, then gestured with my paw again.
“Go on. I will meet you… there.” Almost went for ‘on the other side’, there. Regardless, the knight nodded and moved on, disappearing beyond the door. I watched him go, then turned away.
Now, see, the normal entrance to Darkroot proper was Undead sized- and, thus, far too small for something of my current stature. However, that wasn’t necessarily an issue, for much the same reason that it hadn’t been an issue for me to reach the entrance to the passage to the Valley of the Drakes elevator. Most specifically, I could just go around in a way that the game never intended a player to go, by climbing over the barriers that would prevent someone from going that way.
Celia hung back slightly, seemingly concerned, glancing back and forth between me and the Crest door, obviously reaching much the same conclusions that I had. I waved her forwards anyway, and, after a moment, she went. However, she did glance back in the doorway before going through. It felt odd that she seemed to be concerned about, or at least attentive to, me, when not-me Sif had killed her multiple times… but, then again, just about everything in Lordran tries to kill you at some point, so perhaps she was used to it? More willing to forgive things like that? I felt like it was a tad too early to ask that question of her. Maybe later.
I frowned at the wall next to the unguarded slice into the earth that led away from the Crest door clearing. Much like the transition from the cat area to the plateau of Darkroot Forest, it came up to around my shoulders to my head, and thus it was simplicity itself to hop on top. I grinned to myself a little at traversing a blockage that was essentially impossible to cross for a player character, then hopped down on the other side.
“Oh!” I turned left to see Celia standing there, helm pointed in my direction. “I didn’t think about…” she gestured weakly in the direction of the Crest door. “I had to exchange souls for the Crest of Artorias, and you just… climbed over.”
I raised an eyebrow, as best as I could with a completely different facial muscle arrangement, but I’d guess that the expression got through given how Celia looked away. A very brief flicker of amusement passed through me as I imagined her looking embarrassed under there, because of course I wasn’t going to go through all the effort of retrieving the key for a door that I couldn’t even go through when I could just as easily go around. I didn’t let it show on my face, however.
Passing through the actual trees was very difficult. Often, I found myself carefully stepping around the tiny twig-like trunks, having to take care where I put my paws, keeping my head low so I could duck under the short canopy. And, still, I managed to knock down at least three separate trees with my paws or tail- and that had been interesting, just accidentally wiping out an entire plant with a careless swing of my fifth limb. I wouldn’t even have noticed the wood shattering on contact without the cracking sound.
Still, I eventually reached the little clearing in front of Alvina’s throne, glancing off to the side as Shiva gave me a respectful bow- Eastern, not Western in style. I gave a shallow nod of acknowledgement, eyes flicking past to the tiny nexus of magics I could just feel behind him where his ninja bodyguard was- and I could see him, if just barely, making out the contours and lines of his body in broad strokes if I focused.
In the actual game, Shiva was just the second in command of the Forest Hunters, as well as a sword merchant in Blighttown to the player if they were a part of the aforementioned covenant. However, I also dimly recalled something about cut content where he was meant to be a much more involved character, even an antagonist to the player. He’d been planned to have a… a black eye orb, I think? And there was something about him killing Alvina, the player having to rescue her Soul, but that wasn’t how Souls worked in Dark Souls.
Did that mean that he was just the loyal second to Alvina and sword merchant here? Or, would he go knives-out after anybody who wielded the Chaos Blade, like he was meant to in cut content? Would he be an ally, or ultimately someone that I would have to take care of in the long run, when he made a nuisance of himself? I wasn’t worried about actually taking him down (squishy human go splat), but I was worried about what damage he might do to my cause. Whatever cause I decided that to be.
I blinked, then refocused on the arch. Whatever he was, whatever his loyalties and goals, I’d have to keep a close eye on him to ensure that he wouldn’t do anything untowards. As of this moment, he all but belonged to Alvina, and I wasn’t willing to cross Alvina to get rid of what was just a potential enemy- and not a very threatening one, at that. I padded up to the archway and lay down, sliding my head through as best I could, just as I’d done in the archway that led to the bonfire.
The people there twitched at my appearance, but I suspected that they’d been waiting for me, and thus had been at least expecting me. I glanced over the four gathered here, recognizing them from the cadre of Forest Hunters that usually guarded the forest itself: the Cleric, the Thief, the caster and the missing Knight. Briefly, I felt another flicker of amusement, as this was essentially a well-rounded small D&D party.
The Cleric had been reading a book, but was now looking in my direction with something like contemplation on his face. The Thief had been trying to read it over the Cleric’s shoulder, but had stepped back when I had appeared and he’d glanced up, examining me warily while fingering something inside their jacket- their face was entirely hidden by their hood and mask combo, and underneath their armour, they were androgenous enough that I couldn’t begin to guess at their gender. The caster had been taking notes from a book he was holding, and hadn’t even done more than glance up when he heard me coming through before going right back to his note taking. The Knight had been sharpening their sword, but now they slipped the whetstone back into a pouch at their belt and sheathed the blade, standing expectantly.
And, of course, lazily waiting over the entire gathering, was Alvina. She practically lounged on the stone window, body lax with what appeared to be either sleepiness or indifference, but I didn’t miss the sharp, though half-lidded, glance she sent my way. I nodded to her respectfully, and received one of her signature needle-filled grins in return.
“You called for me?”
“Indeed I did, dear Sif- my Hunters have been up, down and around looking for what you spoke of. All the way up to Sen’s fortress- sealed, of course, but no challenge for those light of feet and quick of hand.” the Thief flexed their other hand. Not hard to guess who that was referring to. Had he climbed around the outside? Huh. “Truly, going into fair Anor Londo alone would be something not precisely desirable… but, fortunate or no, passage was not given. Thou might say they ran flat up against a wall.”
I twitched imperceptibly at that little line. Had the Thief…? Was that where you first met Siegward of Catarina? How long had he been sitting before that stupid ball? Wait, no, no, I remembered- he was sitting in front of Sen’s fortress before you rang the Bell of Awakening. So they’d met him there? Then where was…?
Alvina just about saw the question. She chuckled. “Ah, I fear that turn of phrase was not mine, but belonging to the jovial knight my Hunters met. He seemed drawn by a promise of adventure, and is away walking amongst the trees- one supposes the mystical misted wood under the shadow of Anor Londo rather loses its luster after a few centuries, but to the average adventurer weaned on stories of the resting place of one of Gwyn’s knights…” She trailed off, looking upwards, the expression on her face almost sad. And then it was gone, like it had never been, and she was back to the mysterious cat. “Ah, well, ‘tis not what we are about- true, our light-footed friend made it all the way to the entrance of the seat of the gods…” Alvina narrowed her eyes. “There was only an autonomous guard, a creation of Sen’s. Of the entrance used by those who were not of the strength of soul, there was nothing but flat brick- hurried and shoddy, but there all the same. There will be no direct entreatment with the gods, should they even still be here, and I fear that that which concerns you comes to pass. There or not, abandoned or desperately fortified, by all apperrent accounts, they have sealed us out and will ignore us all as long as they wish to… perhaps would continue if you had not pushed me.
“Regardless, with the passage sealed, we have no way into Anor Londo and, thusly, no way to verify what happens in the white halls. And now… we must decide what path we are to take. Including you, dear sister, was the least of what I could do for a little push.”
Each of the four Hunters was now paying close attention. Celia, who had edged past me and into the room, looked back and forth between myself and Alvina, somewhere between awestruck at being included in a conversation about action between two legendary beings and very well remembering that Sif had killed her multiple times, and contrasting that with the fact that I was now treating Alvina as an equal.
Alright, what did I know? I had to organize it in my head, quickly. Nito is still in his catacomb, Anor Londo has a bare handful of arguably sane people and at least one, perhaps two stark raving mad ones. Seath was long gone, obviously, but I wouldn’t know if Smough was insane or just an out-and-out monster until I spoke with him. My main priority was getting Dark Sun Gwyndolin and Ornstein on my side…
I paused. Hang on, I was forgetting someone, wasn’t I? I had no idea if Priscilla would be willing to leave the safety of her painting to fight alongside me, but maybe a group of Gwyn’s one-time subordinates offering her an olive branch would be enough to coax her into ditching that frozen wasteland? Every sword added to my cause was a plus, I really wasn’t sure what I’d be dealing with in the long run here, and her ability… I think it was called Lifedrain? Something like that. Regardless, it was something that had terrified the gods and ended up with her thrown into what was essentially a storage vault with a bunch of other artifacts the gods hated and feared.
Huh. Maybe the painting guardians would be sane enough to listen to reason. Something to think about when it came to it.
So… the best way of approaching Gwyndolin was most likely through the Darkmoon Knight firekeeper near the game’s entrance to Anor Londo. Though maybe we should hit the Painted World first to grab Priscilla before approaching Gwyndolin? But that might piss Gwyndy off… hrrrrng, Alvina’s waiting for an answer, and I can only do silent contemplation for so long.
“All avenues that should be open to ush are blocked. It sh- seem… s ash though we have no choishe-” Hrngngngng why were there so many words with hard ‘s’ or soft ‘c’! “but to find our way through, no matter what barsh our way.”
“Mmm, certainly not bad ideas- agreed that we have no choice but to do it, but there seems to be no way in if thou art not as light and nimble as our dear thief.” Alvina gestured with a paw towards the thief in question, who, if I wasn’t wrong about the expression I could make out through their mask, was very smug about that. “The gate is locked, and though I have no doubt you lack not the strength to tear your way through shoddy brick, Sen’s gate shall foil even thee. It was designed with those of prodigious strength of arms- and arm- in mind.”
“Maybe… there ish another way in, a way we have not con…templated.” Come on, come on, I know you got the whole Bells of Awakening speech from Oscar…
“Um, a moment…”
YES! Alright, gently now… I turned my head in Celia’s direction- meaning that I looked to my left and almost straight down. Whoof, still getting used to people being so little. She twitched as she realized that the attention of everyone in the… well, I wasn’t sure it was a room per say. No roof. The… space? That works. The attention of everyone in the space was focused on her. However, after a moment, she squared her shoulders and pushed on.
“Oscar of Astora, a knight I met in what he called the Undead Asylum, mentioned something to me… it was a few lines, passed down his family, concerning the Undead.” she tilted her helmeted head back, obviously trying to remember the passage. “Thou who art Undead, art chosen. In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum- that was what he called the place, anyway, maketh pilgrimage to the land of Ancient Lords. That must be Lordran, right? Ah, there was one more…” She tapped her fingers together. “Oh! When thou ringeth the Bell of Awakening, the fate of the Undead thou shalt know.” She nodded to herself. “Yeah, that’s all of it… ah, and this knight at the bonfire shrine, he mentioned that there are actually two of them.”
“The bells? Truly?” Alvina made a sound of amusement. “Ah, the bells tolled for worship to the gods. Not a terrible surprise… a test, for Undead seeking those in Anor Londo high above. Perhaps, if rung, passage into the fortress shall be granted.”
Not like I could get any farther into Sen’s than maybe the room with the pendulums. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get past the entrance area with the snake guys, I was just too big for the doors. Mentally, I drew several lines under the note-to-self about ‘figure out size change magic ASAP’.
“If the other ish below, it mu- may be located in Blighttown, correct?” I think I was getting better at avoiding the problem sounds. Hopefully, anyway. Alvina gave me a glance, and a small cat-grin.
“Blighttown and worse. The border of poison and chaos fire, seated on the divide between the swamps and muck of Blighttown and the burning demon-infested Lost Izalith. Though the power of Chaos burns low since Gwyn’s downward crusade, no doubt the watchtower constructed there still stands bastion against the Chaos Flame- but I truly doubt it is guarded these dark days by allies of Gwyn.”
Definitely not. Quelagg, while no comrade of demons, despite her appearance, was no friend of Gwyn either. Was it a good idea to get Celia to trade Snuggly for the Old Witch’s Ring? What did you trade for it again? Wait, hang on, you had the trade the Sunlight Maggot, and you can only get that AFTER you defeat Quelagg and get into that one passage where it is… so short of getting Quelana to translate and maybe talk some sense into her sister, we’re gonna have to torch the spider. Which is unfortunate, I’d rather have her as an ally or even a neutral than an enemy, but needs must.
“If the gods shall not allow us in, we must find our own way- and if that way is completing the test they meant for the Undead… well, then, I suppose we must pass those tests ordained. One above, one below.” Alvina seemed almost… wistful.
Maybe this was enough like a quest that it reminded her of something she’d done at Artorias’ side? Outside of fighting alongside Gwynn, apparently being anointed as the Abysswalker and losing in Oolacile, I didn’t actually know that much about Artorias- discounting, of course, the occasional flashes I got from what I guessed was the actual Sif.
I cleared my throat. “Regretfully, I cannot…” assist? Help? Fight alongside? To hell with it, let’s just go with- “Shtand with whomever chooshesh to fight the guardians of the Undead Parish bell.”
“Oh?” I twitched my ear as one of the four Hunters finally spoke up, identifying it quickly as the Knight. “Forgive me for the question, Lady Sif, but…”
“There are… other thingsh that I have no choishe but attend to.” Like practicing my diction, for one. Seeming satisfied, Knight- no, wait, hang on, there’re two knights. Knight 2 works, I suppose. In any case, they nodded, seeming content to leave it at that.
Except… hang on. I might not be able to get there in person, what with all the narrow doorways and such between here and there, but there might be another way to… I turned towards Celia, who twitched as she realized that she was the center of attention once again.
“Though, now that I… think of it, there may be another way to fashilitate my involvement.”
I leaned close, focusing… to my surprise, Celia was more of a focus for magical signatures than anyone here besides myself and Alvina. No, wait, thinking about that, it makes some degree of sense: really, I wondered how many rings she was either wearing or carrying on her person at the moment. Still, I was able to locate the signature I was looking for: the White Sign Soapstone.
Threads, gossamer thin but stronger than steel, linked from the little bit of magical stone in all directions. Some glowed differing colours, from white to blue, no doubt denoting the allegiance of those the lines connected to… I’d guess that all White Soapstones were linked- that, in fact, all kinds of Soapstone were linked to all others of their kind, throughout the many worlds and alternative timelines. So… when you put down a sign, and someone summoned you, I would hazard a guess they were literally yanking your soulstuff through the barriers between worlds. Idly, I wondered if the restriction on players for summoning only those of roughly comparable power held true here.
“Your White Shoapshtone, if you will.” Celia hesitated, then nodded, bringing it out and holding it up towards me. I leaned in, touching it with my nose.
Some of the connections didn’t feel like they went… beyond the barriers? It was hard to express, but those lines which I guessed were connected to other Soapstones among the worlds vanished into what almost felt like walls, whereas some of them… they went out in this world, linked to what felt like locations. If I focused, I could even trace some of them, and feel where they ended- and one gave me an image. An image of the Undead Parish.
Tentatively, I turned inwards, to the roiling strength within my form that wasn’t quite mine. It made me nervous, looking at it, realizing that I was something of an add-on slapped onto a larger whole, worried that I’d be bucked off the entire thing if I pressed just a little too hard. So, I was cautious, drawing out just the tiniest pinch of soulstuff and forcing it through the Soapstone, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding when I felt the tenuous little link solidify and anchor itself. I… hadn’t been sure that would work, but it had.
I drew my head away, nodding in satisfaction. “There. You should be able to draw me to you ash with any other Undead, when you return to the Undead Parish.” I turned my attention to Alvina, who, I saw, was watching me intently. I tried to push down the surge of anxiety THAT caused. “I agree, it ish paramount that we gain acshesh to… Sen’s fortresh. No matter if they have a wall of brick, we musht push forwards, if only to tear down the barrier they erected.”
Celia nodded her thanks to me, tucking the Soapstone back into her bag as she did. Alvina mirrored the gesture, looking thoughtful once again as she did.
“True and true. Whatever the gods have placed in our path must be gone through, for we have questions they must answer- if, truly, they are capable of it. And they have much to answer for, oh yes.”
Everyone in the space save me shifted uncomfortably at the expression that crossed Alvina’s face, which could only be interpreted as ‘malevolent’. Somehow, I got the sense that she’d not been overly fond of the gods to begin with, which… you know, that made sense. Cat, after all. She waved a paw and, recognizing they had been dismissed, the Undead in the space all slipped past me and out. After the last was gone, I made to crawl back out, then stopped, turning my attention back to Alvina.
“Perhapsh… it may be a good idea to find othersh like the Catalina knight.”
“Mm…” Alvina considered for a few moments, then spoke. “I feel that I agree… the Hunters, strong as they may be for Undead, are not enough to face what we may clash with. If we truly are to move in such a way, it may be wise to seek out others to lend their strength to ours.” she sat up, regarding me levelly. “Make no mistake, Sif, if we are to do what thou intends, we shall play a dangerous game- particularly if any gods remain in Lordran. They will neither be forgiving of our intrusion, or considerate of our intentions, no matter what they may be. They were always fickle and unpredictable, and in these unstable times… well, now.”
“... I understand.” And I did, truly. I knew exactly how dangerous what we were doing was- more than that, I understood WHY it was dangerous, in that we very well might be upsetting the cycle. It didn’t help that, even if we weren’t disrupting it, I very much intentionally planned to. “But I have stood by long enough.”
Alvina chuckled, a sound that was most definitely malevolent in its pronunciation. Actually made some of my fur stand on end a little. More than anything though, and based on the sentiments she had expressed before, she agreed with me: she, too, had stood by long enough and let the world march by her window- metaphorically, as well as literally. A little trill of relief sounded through me; I’d truly crossed the first hurdle, with Alvina as committed to change as a cat could be committed to anything.
I inclined my head ever so slightly, aware of the groaning of the stonework around me as I did, and felt a little heartened when Alvina returned the gesture. Gently, I extracted myself from the stone arch, standing on all four paws and shaking the stone dust out of my fur, producing a small grey cloud of the stuff, powdered mortar and bits of ancient stone dropping to the ground. Honestly, the fact that the components of these buildings were so fragile made me more than a little nervous to be around them- not that I thought it would actually injure me if one fell on me, as long as it wasn’t the Moonlight Butterfly tower, but still.
“Lady Sif.”
I turned, flicker of surprise crossing my face as I watched Shiva maneuver himself away from the slowly drifting dust cloud. His bodyguard hadn’t moved from where he stood, I could sense that, but the man himself had seen fit to approach me? Shiva himself seemed to take my attention as a go-ahead.
“I must admit, I am… somewhat awe-struck to be in your presence.”
Ah…? Wait, hang on, Shiva was part of the Forest Hunters, but… how many of said Hunters had even seen Sif? Did Alvina send them to report into- no, they hadn’t had contact. Huh.
“A guard never having sheen what they were guarding. Shomething perhapsh too common in Lordran.” Ornstein and Smough apparently never saw Gwynnevere, the painting guards never actually saw the inside of the painted world… regardless, I heard more than saw him shift his feet ever so slightly. “Ah… but your loyalty ish more to Alvina than to me, ish it not?”
His feet shifted again, a slight creaking noise as his hand tightened around the hilt of the blade he had laying against his shoulder. I nodded.
“It ish not a shurprishe. How can one be loyal to that which they have never layed eyesh upon themshelvesh? True loyalty ish to comradesh and leadersh, not to an invishible figure.”
Shiva inclined his head. “I thank you for your words of wisdom, Lady Sif. I will think on them further.” He raised his head again, giving me a more level look- as much as someone who came halfway up my leg could give. “Still, however… much is changing now that you have left your post. Lady Alvina mobilizes the Hunters with direct orders, when before, she was content recruiting the occasional passers-by and leaving the commanding to me- as much as there was commanding.”
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“Hrm.” For the love of- was Shiva gonna make a problem of himself ALREADY!? I figured that I’d have a little time before he started causing trouble, if he was going to. “Ash I shtated to Alvina hershelf… we have waited long enough. But, do I shenshe dishcontent…?” He shook his head.
“No. Lady Alvina…” he paused, taking a moment to taste his words. I watched, quiet, trying my best to read him with sound, sight and scent. “Perhaps… I have it wrong, but… Lady Alvina has always seemed listless. Discontent, herself. She toys with those who pass through, and all throughout, there is a note of disappointment when they answer in return. If… I were to hazard a guess, and if it were not out of line for me to do so…?” My eyebrow twitched as I realized that he was asking my permission to speak. I considered for a moment, then twitched my muzzle upwards. He nodded. “I feel that, perhaps, Lady Alvina has missed your company. Truly, I have never seen her as pleased or as involved as she became after your first visit.”
Alvina missed Sif? Well, that all but confirmed the sibling-relationship between the two. Perhaps they teased back and forth when they were younger, fighting together under Artorias, accompanying him everywhere he went. It made me wonder once again how the two of them truly felt about the knight of Gwyn- was he a commander? A leader? Perhaps he was even like a family member to them, a stern but protective father, maybe even something of a brother. I imagined what it must have been like for them, to have that influence ripped away, to never have it replaced by anything. A hole in their lives, in their very souls, that had never really been filled. No wonder Sif had never left Artorias’ grave, and no wonder Alvina, with all her clearly mischievous personality and desire to mess with those she encountered, suddenly buckled down and founded a covenant. From what she’d said, she’d even negotiated alongside with Sif in Anor Londo for them to keep their posts guarding the place where Artorias fell.
“I musht shay that I, too, have misshed her company, rather dearly.” I looked out into the fog, picking out the faded figures of the Hunters guarding the woods. “It ish part of what drove me back here.”
“And I, for my part, am glad that it did.”
I began walking towards the hole I’d made through the trees coming from the Crest door, thinking about what I needed to do next. Downstairs, the Hydra most likely still stood, and I would most likely need to eliminate it myself- along with a little something… else that was down there. My ear twitched as I heard footsteps, and glancing to the side revealed that Shiva had actually matched my pace, with the ninja not far behind us.
“I must admit, however, that while I am rather pleased to be doing something once again… I fear that, as the leader of the Hunters under Lady Alvina, I would at least like to know some part of your plans.”
I turned forward again. “Alvina hash already shent Huntersh with the Undead warrior…” I fought with my tongue and muzzle for a moment, struggling to get them in place. “Sh…. Celia. They will ashend and deshend, toll the bellsh of Awakening, and open our path into Shen’sh Fortressh. I, myshelf, would like to speak with the Catarina knight, and eliminate a… pesht that plaguesh Darkroot.”
Shiva made a contemplative noise. “If that is the case… the Hunters may need to mobilize in numbers, soon. Perhaps I ought to call amongst the rings, and gather those willing to leave Darkroot when the time comes. However, at the moment, I must ask- would you be willing to allow me to accompany you? If it is not too much to ask, I would like to spend time in the presence of Lady Alvina’s fellow.”
That couldn’t be his whole reasoning, but why… hang on. Shiva was not just a sword merchant, he was something of a sword fanatic, given his knowledge and expertise- that I knew of, in any case. And… the weapon of Artorias the Abysswalker was rather famed, and having been in direct contact with Alvina herself for so long, I had no doubt that she must have spoken of the weapon in question at least once or twice. Equally, of course, I imagined that she must have been very cagey about details, either because recounting things about her… about Artorias was painful, or because she would enjoy Shiva’s frustration at not being told the whole story. So, when he had the chance to be around someone who was relatively straightforward from what he knew, and knew Artorias and his weapon just as well as Alvina would have… oh dear. I was going to have to try and remember things I don’t actually know.
“Ah, but if I may…” Here it comes. “Lady Alvina mentioned more than once that you wielded a blade, one forged to resemble that of Artorias, and yet…”
Oh. That was easier. “I will not remove the weapon from my Lord’sh reshting plashe.”
Shiva simply nodded, accepting the answer and keeping pace with me. We reached the dirt wall that marked the border of the forest behind the Crest Door- to the left, I could feel the bit of magic that surrounded one of the trees, the one the Way of White sigil would appear under. To the right, a short staircase led up to the Crest Door itself. I nodded Shiva to it. He nodded in return, walking to the stairs and climbing them in a manner that could only be described as dignified. Pointedly, I made eye contact with his nearly-invisible bodyguard, who appeared to gaze back warily before following his master.
I watched them go for a moment, then turned my attention to the wall, taking a moment to hop atop it and glancing down into the little path that led past the circular area with the three shrub trap. I stepped over the little crevasse, putting all four paws on the other side, where the wall was wider and easier to walk on, then making right towards the bonfire clearing. There, I found Shiva waiting for me, gazing through the stone archway at the flickers of Flame held there.
“Fashinating, aren’t they?” Shiva turned and gave me a quizzical look as I stepped down next to him. “The bonfiresh.”
“Ah.” He turned back. “I admit… there is not anything like that in the East, no… primordial magic that can quite match it. It is almost like a force of nature in physical form.”
“It ish. The bonfire itshelf ish but a fragmentary ecshpression of the true Firsht Flame, which ish, itshelf, the pure idea of fire, from the raging foresht fire to the warm hearth.” Shiva nodded, following as I strode down towards where the path led downwards. “Though, I musht admit curioushity about your homeland. Are there plashesh such… as thish, there?” At least this conversation was good practice.
“Places like Darkroot? Ah, yes, though perhaps not with a history as complex. Mostly, they are the residence of powerful but reticent creatures, unwilling to show themselves to men. Though, for safe passage through their domain, they must be called and bartered with. My own people have many such stories of heroes having to survive ordeals and accomplish feats in order to gain passage or the regard of one of them.” He maintained eye contact with the shrubs along the path, hand ready to draw his sword at a moment’s notice, but as it was the last time I’d passed through, they stayed in the ground. He hummed. “Though you seem to have negotiated passage of your own, Lady Sif. Usually, these creatures make a nuisance of themselves to anyone who wishes to move through Darkroot.”
I waved a paw dismissively. “I wash attacked but onshe, and when I deshtroyed one with a shingle shwing, the resht sheemed… not ash eager to try their luck.” Shiva chuckled at that.
We rounded the bend in the shadow of the bridge, soon coming upon the side path that led a little up, then down and towards Darkroot Basin.
+++
I lept at one of the crystal golems, slamming it into the ground with my paws hard enough that the crystal cracked through under me, snarling at another that came closer to try its luck with its greatclub-like arm. Shiva, to one side, danced out of the range of another golem’s blow, his bodyguard slashing at its leg and forcing it to its knees, where Shiva plunged his sword to the hilt into the abdomen, the large, thick blade penetrating easily.
I jumped to the side, avoiding the swing, then shoulder-checked the hunk of animate rock as it tried to recover its balance, sending it slamming into one of the boulders that decorated this area. It groaned as cracks ran through it and began to get to its feet, but I didn’t let it, taking a step forwards and slamming it back into the rock with a paw. The crystal, and the rock under it, shattered beneath my strength, the golem shuddering for a moment before losing cohesion and falling into crystalline bits. I glanced to the side as a metallic sound rang out, catching a glance of Shiva rebounding his opponent golem’s clumsy strike with his large shield before hefting his sword overhand and smashing the blade into the shoulder of the golem, severing its arm. Assured that he had it well in hand, I turned my attention back to the first golem, which was struggling to rise with its cracked body. With a touch of contempt, I moved back to it, leaping into the air and bringing both my front paws crashing down upon it with a huff, making its chest explode outwards into scillinting bits of light-catching crystal.
The crystal golems that inhabited Darkroot Basin were something of a challenge in the game when you first faced them, given their high damage and unparriable attacks, but with two highly skilled and experienced fighters and, well, me… not much of a challenge, there. Honestly, I was enjoying this a little, given that I was very obviously both stronger and quite a bit faster than these things. Brute forcing my way through an enemy essentially made of very pretty rock was probably the most satisfying thing I’d done yet. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to having to fight the Hydra, but this was a good bolster for my fighting confidence. I mean, I already knew I could probably just step on humans, but it was nice to know that even relatively larger and stronger enemies would go down pretty hard once I started hitting them. Now I just needed to actually figure out some manner of actual style so I didn’t get my tail handed to me if I decided to take on something that didn’t quite literally have rock for brains.
“That was the last of them, I believe.” Shiva stood at the edge of the field of crystal bits that was all that was left of the one I’d thrown against the boulder, nudging one of the larger pieces with his boot. “Vile things keep trying to kidnap female Hunters, took some time to get them to keep to the Basin and well away from the hunting grounds.”
“They sheem shimilar to some of Lord Seath’s worksh.” I was getting a little better about the slurring, actually managing to push some words out with the actual sounds they should be making.
“Truly? Hrn. May have to give him a piece of my mind when we reach Anor Londo. The Hunters hunt as they like, but being captured like that is no way to go.” He hefted his blade back onto his shoulder, making his way around the crystalline remains. “Another defense against intruders in no way makes up for whatever horrendous thing is being done to those that are captured.”
I crunched my way through the remains of the golem that I’d shattered with my paws, pawpads grinding the crystal to dust under them. Perhaps it was the wolf in me, that piece of Sif that had given me answers before, but I felt that I rather understood Shiva’s position in this regard. Better to die standing against your enemies, fighting, then be captured and end up in Seath’s laboratory. Though, I was surprised to hear that Seath’s science-related memetic disorder was so legendary stories of it had even made it to the ears of someone so foreign to Lordran.
“I admit my shurprise at the fact that you are aware of who Lord Seath ish.”
He huffed a breath through his nose. “Stories from Undead, passed down- people in Lordran knew to be afraid of Seath, and Lady Alvina especially hated him; cats are rather fond of their freedom. So, yes, I know enough of him to be very aware of the fact that he is in no way deserving of the title of ‘lord’.”
“Perhapsh.”
We moved past the remains of the other golems, which had all swarmed us the moment we came down from the path. If I were to speculate, I’d have said that they’d all come after me for some reason or another, but each of them had gone down more or less as easily as the last three we’d fought. One had gotten in a good hit on my side, which hurt a bit, but much like the attacks of the shrubs in Darkroot proper, the blunt attack had been cushioned by my thick fur. I suspected that that advantage in particular would last until I faced enemies with bladed weaponry.
The Hydra in the lake was visible from practically anywhere in the Basin, a huge and looming figure whose multitude of necks and heads twisted in and around in blurry shapes in the dim light and fog of Darkroot. Shiva gripped his sword tighter, not a bit of hesitation in his stride, though I noted that his bodyguard kept his blade drawn. Shiva’s backstory was never really expanded upon, or if it was it wasn’t something I remembered, but he seemed in his element, and it made me wonder if the warrior had faced monsters of this size before. From the way he eyed up the shifting form in the fog through his helmet, it certainly seemed that way, and he most definitely didn’t smell like fear. He nodded to the form in question.
“Your ‘pest’, Lady Sif?”
“Indeed. I believe it may be in our way in the future, and I prefer to clear roadblocksh before they become real problemsh.” That, and I knew for a fact that the golden crystal golem trapping Dusk of Oolicile was on the far side of this thing. Given the lost magic of her homeland, she might be useful going forwards, and I wasn’t one to pass up an opportunity like this.
Shiva shifted his sword on his shoulder.
“Hm, quite. So, shall we?”
I nodded, stepping forward, Shiva only a few paces behind. “Avoid the headsh, it will rely on shtrikesh like a snake. Aim for the eyesh, attempt to get your blade through into the brain. I will attempt to pin the headsh in place.” He nodded, flexing the arm his shield was bound to and cracking his neck, slowly putting distance between himself and me.
As we approached, the Hydra became clearer and clearer- and so did something else. I didn’t know if Shiva could smell it, but he certainly couldn’t smell it like I could even if he did. The wet, rotted reptilian scent filled the air, mixed with the scent of stagnant water to make a combination of smells that made my muzzle wrinkle. And, honestly, the hydra itself didn’t look much better than it smelled.
Towering necks stacked next to eachother atop a fat, bloated body, all covered with green scales that had fallen off in patches here and there, showing infection and rot in the skin itself. I couldn’t see its legs, if it even had them, most of its actual body being below the waterline of the relatively small lake that it was lying in. Its heads thrashed back and forth, necks undulating in a way that gave me just an edge of motion sickness as I watched them. As we approached the small beach that edged the tiny lake, I realized that the pieces of scale dropping off the huge lizard-like thing were washing up there, and I suppressed a grimace.
Slowly, as we drew closer, the necks slowed in their swaying. With an unsettled feeling that curled in my stomach, I realized that the heads were turning one by one in our direction, and I could almost feel the eyes on us. And, for the first time, I was really realizing how huge the thing was compared to the size of a normal Undead, or even me in my current form.
I don’t think the size of the hydra really registers with Dark Souls players after your first time encountering it. Oh, certainly, the first time you lay eyes on the thing, it’s intimidating and heck and honestly a little frightening, looming out of the mist like that, even despite the lack of boss fog. After that, though, you know that the thing has a bunch of attacks with light tracking that are pretty easily dodged, and that it’s more or less a test of patience trying to kill it. You dodge, you walk up, you swipe, repeat.
Here, though… this thing was real. It was huge, and it was real, and it was right there watching me. This was one part where the mechanics of the game most definitely weren’t going to translate to reality in a way that benefited me. The moment we were in range of its necks, it was going to be attacking non-stop, with the only small mercy being that I was pretty sure that it couldn’t move out of the deep pool it was floating in. Not only that, but without an overall health bar, I, with Shiva’s help, was going to have to individually kill the heads until none were left. I was decently certain that my claws and teeth weren’t long enough to guarantee a kill with a bite or swipe, I’d have to actively dig to get at something vital and I wouldn’t have long enough to do that, with every other head taking shots at me. Thankfully, I was decently sure that Shiva’s blade was large and long enough to deal fatal damage to whatever head I could get ahold of, and while my claws weren’t fit for killing a head, I could most definitely hold it in place.
I was so on-edge from my thinking and the quiet that had settled like a blanket over the entirety of Darkroot Basin like a thick, suffocating blanket that I nearly jumped out of my fur and retreated a few steps when the hydra suddenly roared. Every head pointed to the sky, jaws wide open, then quite suddenly shot at where we were. I tensed for just a moment, tracking them with my eyes and gauging where they were aiming, then leapt out of the way at the last moment, sand from the beach and bits of scale flying in my wake.
The head crashed into the sand, particles spraying upwards and outwards in a cloud of white, while other heads hit the beach at different points. Shiva had rolled out of the way, but was already on his feet, sword ready and standing on the balls of his feet, his helmet angled slightly in my direction.
With another spray of sand, I practically threw myself forwards while the Hydra was dazed for a moment, leaping onto the head and sinking my claws past the reptilian scales. The head screeched in anger, the sound all-encompassing this close to the source, but I merely grimaced and hung on, growling as the head tried to pull itself out from under me.
I clawed my way to the top, placing both paws on the top of the head, the rest of my body off to the side where the snapping jaws couldn’t get to me, claws sunk into the filthy scales. As the other Hydra heads drew back for another strike and the one underneath me struggled to get away, pinned there by pain and my weight, I heard the patter of footsteps on sand. The head shifted, loose sand rolling away as it tried to pull out- but it was too late, Shiva leaping from the side and sinking his sword to the hilt in its eye with a spurt of reddish blood! The head screamed, then faded off as Shiva yanked his sword out, retreating back several steps. I jumped backwards, paws spread and hackles raised, eyes flicking to the other hydra heads as the head we’d attacked drew back, leaking blood from multiple wounds and completely limp. The other heads eyed it, then shrieked again, angry and in obvious pain as they reared back for another strike.
This time, when the heads came down, I stepped to the right and shoulder checked the first head that had been aiming for me into the sand, much like I had the crystal golem a few minutes earlier. A curtain of white powder exploded from the impact, heads that had been striking drawing upwards and away, hissing in displeasure as they blinked their eyes to clear the sand that gritted under their eyelids. The head that had struck the ground, however, remained where it was, clearly momentarily stunned- though already stirring. Quickly, I ran forwards and sank my claws into the throat, the head having landed on its side. As I pushed my claws into the flesh and the head awoke fully with a roar, I realized dimly that the scales were smaller and the flesh softer here over the throat, meaning that my claws could sink in all the way. Quickly, I estimated where I thought the arteries feeding blood to this head’s brain might be, slashing away with my claws- and swiftly being awarded with a practical SPRAY of blood arcing over the water. I retreated from the crimson liquid staining the sand, registering out of the corner of my eye Shiva slashing at another head that had come too close to him before his bodyguard appeared on top of it just long enough to sink his own sword in to the hilt.
That momentary distraction was all it took. A head that I hadn’t noticed, having recovered from the sand earlier than its fellows and not registering the pain of two more heads lost yet, slammed into my side, sending me rolling away and out of the range of the Hydra! I slid to a halt, growling at the pain of the impact, only lessened slightly by my fur. Thankfully, looking at it, I wasn’t bleeding, and looking at the head told me why: while the head had recovered from the sandscreen, it had misestimated where I was thanks to the sand still hanging in the air, and had aimed too low. Instead of being struck with fangs that looked even longer than mine, the head’s snout had slammed full-tilt into my side, throwing me away from the fight. The head in question made a roar of frustration, drawing back as I shook my head, recovering.
“Lady Sif!” Shiva shouted, then rolled out of the way of another strike, helmet turning in my direction and shield raised.
“I am whole, Shiva, do not break your concentration for me!” I shouted in return, paws digging up grass and dirt as I ran back to where blood caked the sand at the steadily-reddening water lapped at the shore.
Immediately, I muttered a curse and sent up a spray of red and white sand as I dodged to the right, another head coming down right where I’d been standing. I reversed my course in an instant, kicking up more sand as I rushed to where it had struck, leaping high into the air and coming down with all of my weight on top of the thing’s skull with a resounding CRACK! Unfortunately, while the head let out a strangled screech, it didn’t seem to be dead- it blinked slowly, but I knew that it wouldn’t take long for it to shake even this off and retreat out of range. I couldn’t even get to the throat, with the head right side up and embedded slightly into the sand from the force of my landing.
“Shiva! Here!”
“By your word, Lady Sif!” Shiva stirred sand in his wake as he dashed across the beach, then jerked his helmet to the left and cursed, leaping backwards as another head slammed into the very spot he’d been.
I growled as I grappled with the head, trying to keep it under me as it struggled, my muscles straining against its building-sized neck as I held it to the sand. Shiva slashed at the heads assailing him, two snaking after him and periodically withdrawing to attempt to flatten him against the sand, his bodyguard diverting their attention with slashes and stabs to their snouts as he disappeared and reappeared.
I snarled, clawing at the head under me as it shifted and yanked itself- it was going to get away, there was just nothing I could do about it, not to mention the other heads reeling back for a strike at me-
“BE NOT AFRAID, FOR SEIGMEYER OF CATARINA FIGHTS BY YOUR SIDE! YAAAH!”
I balked slightly in surprise as the onion knight himself in his rotund armour charged up from where we’d just fought the crystal golem, sprinting full-tilt with his huge Zhweihander bouncing against his shoulder. As I looked at him, he lowered the blade into a stabbing position, point towards the head I’d pinned, one hand on the hilt and the other gripping the rectangular section of the blade just above the crossguard. Holding the ultra greatsword like a lance, he drove the tip into the Hydra’s head at full tilt, penetrating just below the eye socket all the way to the spiked second crossguard. With a grunt of exertion, he yanked the blade out again with a spray of crimson and bits of grey, the head gurgling in its throat as its remaining eye rolled up in its socket. I retreated back a few pawsteps, tensed and ready for another strike, as the head limply flopped into the thrashing and bloodied waters of the basin.
“I thank you for the asshishtanshe, knight Seigmeyer.” I intoned, loud enough that he easily heard me over the din. His helmet turned to me, both hands on the hilt of the Zhwiehander as he drew back as well.
“I heard the noise, thought someone might be having a jolly old adventure without me- and we can’t have that! I am glad to offer my sword for the slaying of such a beast, my lady!”
He hefted the blade in question in a quick salute, then turned his attention immediately back to the monster as its remaining heads let out a deafening SKREEEEEK! All four of us winced at the noise, then moved almost together as the remaining three heads came down in tandem. I swatted one away with my paw so hard I heard a CRACK, bits of broken teeth raining down on the beach as it reeled from the blow, giving me enough time to ram full-tilt into another of the heads, sending it skipping across the sand and slamming into the cliff, almost at the end of its neck. Shiva’s bodyguard darted past me, bringing his sword up in a slash that parted the scale armour and muscle of the neck like air, severing its artery before leaping atop it and stabbing it for good measure. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Seigmeyer yelled something at the head that’d focused on them, rolling out of the way as it hit the ground with a resonating WHUMP. In the moment it took to recover, Shiva stepped forwards to one side and brought his sword into an upward slash while Seigmeyer yelled again with the effort as he shoved his blade off of his shoulder and into a thundering downward slash, the two of them striking so deep and hard that the neck pulled itself free of the now-severed head and flailed, spraying blood from the stump.
I turned with a thump of my paw impacting the shore, glaring up at the final head. It hissed and screeched, flailing about as the pain of losing six of its fellows registered in waves. It turned hateful red eyes on me, rage apparent in its gaze, then coiled itself and struck like lightning. I threw myself to the side, rolling and coming up slightly turned, my hind legs lashing out at where I guessed the head would be. I was rewarded with a shattering of bone as both paws connected with the jaw, throwing the head to the side. I rounded in and instant, darting forwards before it could recover, and, before I even had the chance to think on it, sunk my teeth as deep as they could go into the soft flesh of its neck and ripped its throat out!
The thing let out a gurgling noise as it withdrew drunkenly, thrashing about, sending waves hither and yon throughout the lake, worsening the blood in the choppy water. Finally, though, it let out a single, last shudder, the head falling into the water with an almighty CRASH… then, the thing began to dissolve into white mist. I shuddered as some of it entered me, clenching my teeth and watching the others jerk as some of it flowed into them as well.
We watched it dissolve, the body turning to naught but air, and leaving behind something that glittered in the dim lighting as it washed up onto the shore. I retrieved the Dusk Crown Ring from where it lay with my claws, watching as the band expanded to fit one of my toes. A booming laugh caused my ears to twitch in the direction of the knight of Catarina, who flopped himself down on a clean patch of sand and leaned his sword against his shoulder, the hilt in his lap.
“Ahhh! Now that was a taste of the adventure I expected!”
Despite myself, I couldn’t help the way the edge of my mouth twitched upwards.