Talos sat atop Torrent, the spectral steed trotting along at a steady pace. The Tarnished was in no hurry, wary of anything below the surface of the ankle-deep water that had swallowed the ground. He didn't want Torrent hurting himself should a leg fall into a hole while moving at speed, so he was content to go as slow as necessary. The mist that surrounded them was cold, and just moving through it left both rider and mount quite damp. They passed ruins of what might have been outposts, now shaded by the tall willows the sprouted from the earth. Only the sounds of nature were present around them. Marika was silent. She hadn't spoken since he'd made his desire to speak known. And the guilt was still there, coloured with a feeling of reclusive thoughtfulness. She had ties here, or at least some kind of history, he was certain of it.
It didn't take long for them to encounter the strange denizens of Liurnia. Emaciated figures riding atop undead steeds had pursued them for some distance while Talos fired shots from Evelyn, sending the riders crashing into the water with holes punched clean through them. Soon, the willows and ruins were behind them, leaving them in a wide-open area that provided them with a clear view of their surroundings. As ever, the Academy of Raya Lucaria loomed high above, casting a shadow across everything. Dotted about were domed pavilions, seemingly out of place amongst the overgrowth and ruins. Talos urged Torrent towards them, curious about them. Some were empty, while others contained a single statue of a figure that he couldn't identify. Several times, massive crustaceans erupted from the ground. They were like the giant crabs he was accustomed to, but these ones had longer bodies and huge, yet proportionally sized claws. The giant crayfish were aggressive, charging at Talos and Torrent. A couple of them stopped short and let loose jets of highly pressurised water that Talos was sure would have knocked him from Torrent's back.
With agility not found in common steeds, Torrent evaded the incoming attacks with supernatural grace. Talos dismounted while Torrent was mid-jump and drew his sword. He plunged down fast, his blade angled down and it punched through the tough carapace and into the meat within. The giant crayfish thrashed and writhed, but the Tarnished held on and twisted the blade to shred the flesh before pulling it free. He jumped from the agonised animal, then, without the need of a catalyst of any sort, Talos channelled the ancient sorceries of lands long forgotten. As another of the crayfish advanced, he threw out a hand. Orbs of rippling, abyss-black magical energy shot out blasted the creature's front apart in a shower of white meat and carapace shards. A subtle gesture with his fingers conjured balls of white-blue soulmass, each with crystalline protrusions jutting from them. They hovered in an arc over his head, ready to annihilate any assailant that got too close. They shot out at a crayfish stomping and sloshing towards him from behind. They tore through its carapace like paper, then exploded within and crystals the height of a man lanced out from inside its body, leaving it looking like some kind of macabre sculpture.
Talos sprinted towards the last, and with a finger snap, a nova of magic power blossomed in front of him, taking the shape of a tapering spear point that burned brightly. Crystals also jutted from it, and with a shriek, it soared towards the last of the attacking crayfish and slammed into it with a percussive bang. The front of its body was obliterated, such was the power Talos had imbued the crystal soul spear with, and where there would have been the sight of the creature's innards, it was instead frozen over with soul-charged crystal. All of them lay dead.
In the ages that Talos had journeyed from world to world, he'd had plenty of time and inspiration to improve upon the magics he had learned. He wasn't a natural with sorcery, far from it, but time and experience had allowed him to master the arts to where he could confidently say he was as much a wizard as a warrior. Superlative in both schools of study, he took to developing his spells and combat techniques, both inspired by the countless foes he'd encountered. He fought as the situation demanded, however, and so far had no reason to fight to his fullest. Still, it was nice to see the fruits of his labour sometimes. His spells were more destructive than ever, improved upon in every way from their original forms. Talos didn't even need a catalyst or staff like he once had, having learned to use his own body to channel sorcery of all kinds. This mastery extended to miracles and pyromancy.
Talos observed his handiwork and shook his head. ''Why am I always beset by giant crustaceans?''
She watched, enraptured by the display. Having seen many powerful Tarnished come and go into her mother's service, she thought she'd seen everything that a Tarnished could be capable of. Now, having seen what this man in rags and blackened armour dispatched the fierce wildlife of Liurnia with magic she'd never seen any Tarnished wield before, Rya, scout of Volcano Manor, knew she had to make contact. She stood in one of the small stone pavilions, a regular stop of hers on her scouting runs. Rya's task was to look for new Tarnished to recruit into her mother's cause, but this time, she sought more than that. She'd been robbed. Taken from her was a precious necklace, one engraved in enamel with the face of her mother. Some ruffian, an escaped prisoner if his iron mask was any clue, had demanded it from her. He was a large brute, with two large iron balls on his fists, and he made it clear he'd snap her in two if she didn't hand the necklace over. Reluctantly, she did. But at least she was alive and still drew shaking breaths.
Ah, he was coming this way.
''Hello?'' she waved at the approaching Tarnished. He came closer, went around and ascended the stairs of the pavilion. Well, he was an intimidating one indeed. His dark armour and hooded cloak made him appear daunting. He was taller than her by a good margin, though some of that height difference was granted by the the permanent stoop she had from her crooked spine. ''It's a little chilly here, isn't it?'' she said as she rubbed her arms. Establishing common ground with a disarming comment often worked as a foot in the door.
''It is,'' the man said, his voice a deep, rasping baritone through his helmet, ''I wouldn't have expected to find anyone out here. Unarmed, especially. Have you business here?''
''I was sent on an errand by my mistress,'' her voice still shook, which lent to her goal of acquiring his assistance and potential recruitment. Sympathy would be a powerful tool here. ''But I was accosted by a ruffian in an iron mask, and now I am in a bind.'' She threw in a trembling lip for good measure. Granted, she was legitimately terrified, but she was trained enough and had the presence of mind to use all the tools at her disposal to recruit more Recusants. That said, she didn't like manipulating others, but it was her duty and she'd carry it out regardless of her feelings on the matter.
''Accosted, you say. How?'' he asked.
''The thug made off with a precious necklace, one very dear to me. I am in no fit state to get it back, and even if I was, I'm afraid to go myself,'' Rya sniffed and rubbed her arms again, ''I need someone to retrieve it. Only... he, too, is Tarnished,'' she held up her hands, ''if you've any qualms confronting your own, then I shall find another.''
''Hmm, I see. Very well, it shouldn't be an issue. I'll see what I can do if you can tell me where to look,'' he said. Rya's face lit up with genuine relief. Even if he didn't join the Volcano Manor, just having her necklace back would be enough.
''Oh, thank you dearly. It is a blessing that we have met here,'' she turned outward and pointed a dainty finger towards a distant shack, where a column of grey smoke languidly drifted into the air, ''he made off towards that shack. I suspect that's where he is resting.'' Then she looked back to the brave Tarnished. Yes, indeed he was brave. He'd dispatched those giant crustacean menaces with ease, and now he was going to deal with that thug. ''Please, brave Tarnished, I must have that necklace back.''
''Then I shall retrieve it, rest assured,'' he said.
''Before you go. Could I have your name?'' Rya asked. ''I am Rya.''
''Talos. I will return soon.''
Rya watched him go, his figure shrinking into the distance. As he'd left, her tongue slipped free of her mouth, flicking out rapidly before returning. She smiled after tasting the air. That taste was so indescribably potent, unlike anything she'd tasted before. It was so deep, complex and dense with strength, perfect for her mistress' needs. She would await his return, and when he did, she would do everything she could to bring him into the Recusant fold. Mother would be proud, indeed.
'Thou art being played, dear Consort,' Marika said suddenly, surprising Talos. She'd been quiet for a good while now. And she was still going on about him being her Consort. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he'd considered it, taking into account the dearth other options. He still didn't know what to make of her, and he wasn't too pleased with the idea of shacking up with a god in the first place. If it made the fight against the Outer Gods possible and easier, then he'd do it. But she'd have to really grow on him in the mean time, he wouldn't budge on that.
'You've been rather quiet, Marika. Something bothering you?' Talos replied.
'Liurnia bothers me. Having to enter the Academy bothers me. The woman within that place bothers me. But do not change the subject. Thou'st realised the girl is using thee, yes? She speaks to thee as a victim, yet I hear words left unsaid, see motives obscured beneath her innocent visage. She is not what she appears,'' Marika said sternly.
'You think I'm unaware? I see what most others do not. Few can hide the truth from me, Marika. Rya has her secrets, but I don't believe those secrets belong to her. And she wasn't lying when she said she needed help.'
'And thou canst be so sure? I see what thou see, and more besides. She was watching thee weave thy sorceries, and I will have answers about them, Talos, so be ready to explain when I ask. The girl saw an opportunity, of that I am certain.'
Talos stopped walking. 'Markia. Do you believe in fate? Or in cycles that repeat themselves ad nauseam with slight alterations each time?'
'I am unsure what thou art trying to ask. Fate is a... strange thing. I know not if all things are guided by providence, but if they are, then by defying the guiding hand of the Greater Will, I have broken fate's hold on me. But the question could be asked if such an action was yet another whim of it. Perhaps in shattering the Elden Ring, I did exactly as I was directed, despite believing otherwise. As for cycles, well...,' she thought for a moment, 'there was once a wise man who visited my court. He and I had a discussion about history. This was early in my reign, thou see, and he told me that history doth not repeat, but it often rhymed. Would that be what you ask?'
'Not quite, but insightful regardless. I suppose the question was unfairly worded. Allow me to be candid for a moment,' he felt Marika's curiosity, 'I have lived for a very long time, Marika. Far too long if you ask me. But in that time, I have existed in many places at many times. It is through much excruciation that I have learned that every world and those within those worlds exists within a cycle, adhering to patterns unseen. Of course, there were those who knew of the cycle and were perpetrators of it. It took a long time, but I came to realise that nothing happens for no reason. Those I interact with are there just at the right time to meet me. There is no luck or chance in this. It is simply the mechanical function of the cycle doing its work. It is as that wise man said; history does not repeat, but it often rhymes. And rhyme, it does. Often painfully so. Each face I see is the analogue of another I have met before, destined to encounter me as either friend or foe,' he shrugged 'So the girl is using me to her own ends. Most do. But in the end, I stand above as slayer or saviour. I will do as she asks and the cycle will propel me to the next stage of her destiny, just as it will mine.' Talos explained. Marika was silent, but he could feel the questions roiling within her mind.
'Thou... speakest true. I have grown acutely aware of the currents within thy soul, so lying to me would benefit thee not. 'Tis as I suspected when first I bound myself to thee. Thou art ancient, lived of years beyond count, anomalous by every metric. From a peasant boy, to a common levied soldier, to an honoured knight, thou were an exception even before thine ascension to nigh godhood. From the moment thou supped upon thy first demon soul, everything about thee changed and the course of thy destiny was truly set. Ever since thou defeated the Old One, thou'st slipped through the cracks between worlds, thy body and spirit in flux. Impermanent. Ephemeral, yet paradoxically eternal.' she said.
Talos gave a dry laugh. 'Been doing some digging, have you?'
'Not by choice. Our bond feeds me thine experience and knowledge over time. 'Tis mere fragments for the moment, but enough for me to piece together through inference. That thou'st not corrected me is telling,' Talos then felt the phantom sensation of a gentle hand on his shoulder. 'Please, fret not. I do not mean to pry into thy soul, just as I am sure thou wouldst prefer to be free of my secrets. 'Tis a two-way street, this bond we share. I knowest of the trickle of mine own past thou'st no doubt received. I only hope thou learn to trust me as we witness the full scope of one another. Be they our greatest triumphs or our darkest shames.'
He knew he didn't really have a choice. In the short span that they'd been linked, he'd already gleaned some of the details from Marika's early life. It hadn't been easy for her, and even after stumbling into the role of monarch, her life only grew more difficult. Where once her struggles decided if she lived another day, the struggles she endured as a queen were more a test of her moral fibre. Marika once took lives to save her own, then took lives because it was her duty. After that, she didn't take lives, but decided what lives were taken and who did the taking. It weighed heavily upon her, even now. But deeper agonies lurked just beneath the surface. A potent mix of grief, hatred, love, loss, resignation and a hundred other sensations became a pall that doused whatever memories he saw. He would learn them in due time, just as she would learn of his own woes. He dreaded to think what she must have been sensing from him. To live was to stockpile suffering, and his stockpile was sizeable to say the least.
Talos was broken from his conversation when a smell on the breeze caught his nostrils. He couldn't determine what it was, but after a few cautious sniffs, he determined that the smell was downright delicious. He didn't need to eat anymore, but if his stomach could still rumble, it surely would have. Talos followed it until it led him exactly to the shack Rya had told him about. Going around it, he found a site of grace as well as the source of the smell, and who could be none other than the man he was looking for. The iron mask was a dead giveaway.
The man, Big Boggart, as Talos would come to learn, was hostile to start. When Talos had expressed interest in the necklace he'd supposedly stolen, Boggart was quick to be rid of it, claiming no particular attachment to it. In exchange for it, Talos surrendered the one-thousand runes Boggart had demanded, but Talos also took the opportunity to secure another ally. He took a seat by the cooking fire, indulging in the smell of shellfish. Upon requesting some of the prawn Boggart was cooking, the former prisoner seemed pleasantly surprised, his tone softening and his body becoming less tense. From the bottomless box, Talos took one of the many bottles of ale he'd pilfered from the various castles he'd trekked through on his travels, as well as two clay cups. Boggart didn't seem to be a wine kind of person in his estimation.
The two ate and drank for a while, talking about themselves and the world they inhabited. Boggart was surprised at how much prawn Talos could put away, exclaiming 'Marika's tits! You must be hungry,' getting a laugh from Talos as Marika merely scoffed. Boggart reminded him of many of the common soldiers he'd served with during his time as a footman in Boletaria's army. He was crude and to the point, but beneath that gruff exterior and abrasive demeanour, he was a man of good character. He was also rather brave and industrious to set up a prawn business in the Lands Between, benighted as it was. He didn't know what twists of fate had led to his imprisonment and his mugging of Rya, but Talos was certain circumstance rather than nature drove Boggart to those acts.
They parted after a while, certain they would meet to eat and drink again. Talos made his way back to Rya, full and rather pleased that he'd made a friend, but he knew that he couldn't tell her any of what had occurred. The girl smiled as she saw him approach, eager to hear of his success.
''Your necklace,'' Talos presented it in an open palm. Tentatively, she took it, holding it up to the sinking sunlight. Satisfied, she pocketed it. ''I thank you for returning it, Talos. I am in your debt, and so I feel I should tell you the truth,'' Talos remained silent, ''I am a scout, in service to Lady Tanith of the Volcano Manor. I seek powerful Tarnished, not only steady of hand, but of steady heart, merciless. Even to your own kind. Such strength is exactly what my lady seeks.''
''She seeks Tarnished with no qualms slaying other Tarnished. Why?'' Did he have qualms? No, generally speaking. Things like pity and remorse were held in strict reserve within him. He had no problem being the instigator of a deadly duel should it serve a purpose. It was the end goal that he used as the deciding factor in who and when he killed. He'd learned to compartmentalise his feelings about killing when he was a soldier, but as he grew in power, age and experience, and after the various transformations his soul had undergone, he knew his broader lack of empathy was a result of his humanity slowly slipping from him. Figuratively and rather literally. He didn't know if he could even be considered human anymore. He was born of humans, this much was true, but he was so far removed from his roots that what had once been a mortal man, was now, by most metrics, a god.
''I do not mean to seem coy, but it would be best if Lady Tanith told you personally,'' she reached into a pocket and withdrew a sealed envelope and held it out to Talos, ''here. An invitation to the Volcano Manor.'' Talos took it and pocketed it. He'd read it later. ''There is one last thing I should tell you. This land, Liurnia, is connected to the Altus Plateau by the Grand Lift of Dectus, beyond the High Road. Only, it has been defunct for an age now.''
'The medallion halves thou'st collected. Unite them at the Grand Lift and thou shalt awaken it,' Marika said, 'we will need to ascend to the Plateau regardless of this girl's intent. 'Tis where we will find the Erdtree.'
''I see no reason not to at least visit. I will be there,'' Talos said. Nothing happened without a reason. He knew the Volcano Manor was important somehow, so going there was necessary. In doing so, he was sure he'd learn more about the goings-on of the Lands Between, as well as gain crucial insight into other key players of the Shattering.
''Excellent. With the Lift inactive, you'll need another means of passage. There's a tunnel at the base of the Grand Lift. Use that, and you'll find your way to the Altus Plateau.''
After saying goodbye to Rya, Talos wandered for a while. Liurnia had many amazing sights to see, and he spent quite some time simply admiring the natural beauty of his surroundings. He went underground, plunging into the darkness below in search of any shiny rarities he could plunder. And plunder he did, shamelessly stripping anything he could from anywhere that offered them. Marika had already absorbed the knowledge pertaining to the bottomless box Talos carried with him, fascinated by the unknowable means by which it functioned. To think that within that box was a veritable trove of artifacts from other worlds, each with their own storied history. She wanted to learn as much about them as she could. As the Eternal Queen, she had to have a keen appetite for knowledge, and chief amongst her studies was history. She would spend whatever free time she had poring over tomes and scrolls penned by people the world over. If they were of another language, she would learn it just to sate her erudite mind. So when she learned that Talos was causally carrying a repository of history like that, she made a note of asking him about them at some point. She still wanted to know about his unique sorceries, too.
However, Queen Marika was aware of Talos' priorities, and her questions were far, far down on the list. He wanted answers from her first. She was aware that he wanted to know what it was her arrival had done to Melina. She'd been too distracted with her own thoughts to answer him the first time. Coming to Liurnia did no good for her mood as Radagon's history left a bitter taste in her mouth. The very air tasted of deep sorrow, all stemming from the gated and barred Academy of Raya Lucaria. Anguish hung over it like a miasma, and it set Marika ill at ease.
With Rennala being a Shard Bearer, Marika knew that confrontation was inevitable. Talos would have to take it from her. Whatever had become of her since being sealed within the Academy and after the Carian civil war, Marika couldn't rightly say. But Rennala, surely, didn't need to die. She'd lost everything after Radagon was called to Marika's side. The love of her husband and even the loyalty of her children, with her two sons, Radahn and Rykard, becoming devout defenders of the Golden Order, to which the queen of Raya Lucaria was an opponent. Only Lunar Princess Ranni remained, distant as she was.
She didn't choose any of this, and Marika certainly hadn't made the call to Radagon. It was all the work of the Greater Will. The myriad tragedies of the world and its people could all be traced back to it and its infernal Golden Order. Even as much as she disdained Radagon, she recognised that he was as much a victim of the Greater Will's machinations as they were. At one time, his normally cagey, stand-offish visage cracked and he told Marika a bit about his life married to Rennala. They'd met on the battlefield as enemy commanders, she a queen and he a mere champion. But after butting heads for so long, something of a friendly rivalry developed, and from that stemmed love. They'd seen the best and worst of each other in those turbulent days and came to realise that they'd witnessed brilliance. They were later wed, all transgressions forgiven. He'd been happy in those days. Happy with his home. Happy with his wife. Happy with his children. Happy with his existence in a world given to suffering. And then he heard the call and was powerless to resist its compulsion to seek Marika and become the second Elden Lord. Nobody benefited in the long run, and whatever gains made were eclipsed by strife and heartbreak.
Talos was stood at the Four Belfries, a series of stone structures sat atop one of Liurnia's many peaks. He looked over the landscape, deciding what he should do next. He'd already plundered the depths of the area surrounding the entry point from Stormveil. So far, he'd done as he always did. Checking boxes. He kept a mental note of what he should do once he reached a new locale, chief amongst them was taking whatever wasn't nailed down. There were people he'd meet, as evidenced by Rya and Boggart, both of which he new the cycle would have him meet again later. But on occasion, he'd become stumped. Liurnia was vast and full of places that appealed to his near-kleptomania. And so, he pondered, trying to find a direction to go in. Should he make his way to the Academy? If he did, how would he get in? It didn't take an observant eye to notice any physical way in was either hidden or completely absent.
'Talos?' Marika suddenly spoke, jolting him from his thoughts.
'Ah, there you are. I have questions,' he said.
'As predictable as sunrise. I've an inkling what thou'st been thinking about. Thou seekest entry to the Academy of Raya Lucaria, but see no way inside. I will tell thee a method of entry, but first I must speaketh my mind.'
'Go ahead, then.'
She told Talos what she'd been thinking. She spoke of the wars, of Radagon and Rennala, and though she found it distasteful, she told him the true reason why Radagon had left his first wife. He'd have found out anyway, being symbiotically linked as they were. She'd much rather get that detail out of the way sooner rather than later. Marika spoke of the children her second husband sired; Rykard, Radahn and Ranni. Talos listened silently, paying attention to every detail, and Marika could sense the various emotions playing across the fabric of his mind. There was pity, disgust, anger and an emotion she couldn't quite place. At first, she had thought his disgust was aimed at her for essentially being married to herself and creating offspring, but that wasn't quite it. The anger was the easiest to read. Like a raging sea, his anger at even more meddling in people's lives by cosmic forces frothed and boiled within him. Then it was cooled by pity. Rennala's story seemed to pluck a certain chord within him that she hadn't expected.
'As always, the whims of the gods bring naught but misery. And Radagon, your other half, where does he fit into all this?' Talos asked once his temper had calmed. Marika sighed.
'He is both a facet of myself and my jailer. Once he left Rennala to join me, we became inexorably bound. Every thought, every feeling and inclination was open to the other. It took years to scrap together the discipline and skill to mask ourselves, mutually agreeing that we much preferred our personal space within and without. Thou cannot know what it's like Talos. To have someone who is thee and yet not share your home and your bed. Someone who knows every intimate detail of who thou art. And the worst part is that I suspect he was created rather than born. None know his origins, and if he does then he did not share them.'
'Created? By the Greater Will?'
'As an avatar, or extension of itself. All to keep an eye on me,' the old outrage in her voice was palpable, 'he emerged as a champion, seemingly from nowhere. He was a fanatical defender of the Golden Order, spreading its influence through fire and war. And then, when it proved most convenient, he found his way to me. Both of us compelled to seek each other. Trust me when I say this, though I loathe the idea of him existing as he is, he is as much a victim as I and Rennala.'
'And should I encounter him-'
'Thou wilt without a doubt be made to fight him,' then Marika's voice softened, 'and when thou do, kill him. He will show thee no mercy, so extend none to him. But above all, give him peace. Radagon is jailer and prisoner both, doomed to remain as a chained hound for as long as he lives. I've no love for him, Talos, but he does not deserve that fate.'
'I will do what I must,' Talos said, 'but in the meantime, what should I do about Rennala? If she is sealed within the Academy and possesses a Great Rune, then I've no choice but to take it from her. But I have felt your reticence. You'd prefer her to live.'
'I would. Rennala has done no wrong or committed any crime. Not in my eyes. Please, Talos, spare her if you can,' Marika said, almost pleading.
'If I am to do that, then I will need information. And the best source of said information resides in this land. We must visit Lunar Princess Ranni.'
''Oi, you there! You can hear me, yeah?'' Torrent slowed to a halt when Talos heard someone calling out to him. A young woman by the sound of it. Around him were the ruins of what had once been the town surrounding the Academy, with most of the buildings having sunk into the earth with only their roofs above the water. Waddling in groups were squat and rotund beings with grey skin, bulbous heads and huge black eyes, each wearing jerkins and carrying weapons of various kinds. Talos looked about the ruins for the source of the voice, and there, hiding behind a chimney, was the woman. He dismounted from Torrent and approached, keeping an eye out for anything that might attack. The young woman moved to meet him, seemingly more worried about the small grey creatures than she was of him.
''Oh, thank Marika, finally a human shows up,'' she said with palpable relief, ''though I was gonna die out 'ere. Killed by those bug-eyed freaks.'' The woman was indeed young, no older than twenty. She had blonde hair, tied back, a light dusting of freckles across her nose and wore a suit of chainmail on her torso and legs. A pair of hard leather gauntlets covered her hands up to her elbows. She had a shortsword on her hip and a plain wooden heater shield on her back. ''Tarnished, yeah?'' the way she spoke was direct, accented similarly to Boggart. ''Name's Lanya. Say, you wouldn't happen to have seen m'lord Hoslow, would ya?''
''Diallos Hoslow?'' Talos asked. She nodded. ''I have. He sent me to find you, actually. He was quite worried for your safety.''
''Really?'' she asked with wide eyes, ''that toff was worried about me? 'Preciate it an' all, but he coulda just come 'imself. Bloody pampered princes, eh? Always gotta have someone waiting on 'em hand an' foot.''
''He said you got separated some time ago. Where and how?'' Lanya merely shrugged dismissively and crossed her arms.
''Limgrave. Got attacked by some of them bastard Sellswords. Got that fancy armour an' whip of his, but he can't fight worth a shit, being honest,'' she pointed a thumb at herself and grinned, 'so in comes Lanya to save the damsel in distress. Managed to get him to safety, but got myself knocked out an' fell into some hole in the ground.''
''Those Sellswords are ferocious. I'm surprised you survived such an encounter,'' Talos said, genuinely impressed.
''Yeah, you're tellin' me! Trust me, mate, no one's more surprised than me. Killed my horse, though. Bit shit, innit?'' she said sadly.
''Very. How did you get here?''
''Well, someone went an' offed Godrick an' all his men. Made it easy gettin' through Stormveil. After I woke up, Hoslow was gone an' I took off lookin' for him. Ended up 'ere,'' she shivered and rubbed her arms, ''so besides me, what brings you 'ere, stranger?''
''That,'' he pointed up at the Academy high on the clifftop, ''I seek the Shard Bearer within.''
A look of confusion crossed Lanya's face. ''Shard Bearer? Y'know what, I ain't arsed. Elden Lord business, I'm guessin'. I ain't got much to do without Hoslow around. So, how about it? I'll come with ya' for a bit.''
''You sure? I won't say no, but I'll have you know I'm headed somewhere potentially quite dangerous,'' Talos warned. Lanya shrugged and grinned.
''C'mon, little danger's nothin'. I'll be fine. Bein' honest, I did most of the fightin' between me an' Hoslow. So I'd say I'm pretty good,'' she said as she flexed an admittedly well-defined arm. Before Talos could make a decision, someone else had made their presence known.
''Well, well, I wasn't expecting her to have company,'' from among the ruins came several fifteen figures, all dressed in different garb. They bore various weapons, from clubs, to swords and crossbows. At the head of them was a man carrying a tower shield and a spear. He was completely bald, with angled features and a sly glint in his eyes. His body was covered with chain mail and hardened leather. There was no way Talos could mistake that voice and appearance. He was all too familiar with this man in all of his incarnations. He'd never changed, even since their first meeting in the Shrine of Storms so many lifetimes ago.
''Patches...'' though the name was spoken in a low tone, the venom infused with it stopped the man short. Talos turned his body to face him and brought a hand to the hilt of his sword. ''Worlds can die and be born again, and still you persist. Should I even be surprised that you're here?''
''Dunno what you mean, chum. We met before?'' Patches asked, the grip on his spear tightening fractionally. Though he was a cowardly serpent no matter where Talos met him, there was always the air of a malicious man about him. A sharp glint in his eyes that conveyed a wicked intelligence. Though he was aware of Patches' tricks, Talos could never get a clear read on him. He was as elusive as he was wily, and that made him dangerous.
''Who're they?'' Lanya asked as she placed her hand on her own sword.
''Trouble,'' Talos replied. ''State your business, Hyena.'' Patches' eyes noticeably twitched before he smiled widely.
''Hyena? You and your funny words. Well, if you must know, we're here looking for someone. A Tarnished. Some silver-spoon noble and his servant. And I must say, friend, you don't look like a noble to me. But the girl is exactly as described,'' he pointed the spear at her, ''where's Diallos Hoslow, girlie?''
''Dunno. Checked up your arse?'' Lanya said with a sneer. One of Patches' men chuckled, but cleared his throat when Patches looked at him with a scowl. Turning, the bald man grinned widely.
''Now, now, no need to be vulgar. Look, you're not even the main target, so if you play nice, we'll even let you live. Just tell us where Hoslow is, and that'll be the end of it,'' he said in a faux-friendly tone.
''He lies,'' Talos said, ''he'd rather kill you to draw Diallos here,'' he drew in closer to Patches, and his men raised their weapons. However, he was undaunted by the display. Talos knew that killing Patches was the wise choice here, but somehow, in some cosmically comedic way, he was always deeply entrenched in the workings of whatever schemes were in play. But while he wouldn't kill him, that didn't mean he couldn't send a message. By the way he and his men had come here with the remit to kill Diallos and Lanya, it was of little effort to deduce that Patches was one of these so-called 'Recusants' Rya had spoken of.
''Hmph, getting in my way again, eh?'' Patches muttered, almost inaudibly. That caught Talos off-guard. Again? Had he some recollection of their past meetings? If so, that hadn't happened before. ''Well, cat's out of the bag now, I suppose. Oh well. I guess Lady Tanith'll have to wait a bit. Kill them.''
As soon as bolts were loosed from crossbows, Talos had brought Evelyn up and fired a shot at one of Patches' men. The sound carried like thunder across Liurnia, and before the dead man even hit the ground, Talos leapt into the air, clearing several meters and crashed into their ranks with his sword in motion. Blisteringly fast arcs of steel ended five of the remaining thirteen, their torsos split open. Lanya followed without hesitation, her sword and shield drawn. Three bolts struck her shield with heavy thuds as she rushed into the fray.
Patches dug the butt of his spear into the ground and took several clear bottles from a pouch on his belt. He uncorked one bottle and let whatever concoction was inside fly into the air. It came as a cloud of black powder, ponderous and dark. Then, like distant starts, speckles of light bloomed and sparked before it became an inferno that roared towards Talos. He felt the heat before he saw it, but his instincts drove Talos to dive aside and keep low in the murky water as the flames passed overhead. He stood and whipped around, only to see a gleaming spear tip rushing for his visor.
Lanya scurried up one of the sunken rooftops with a number of Patches' men in pursuit. Having killed one already in a surprise attack, she knew that taking on a group in open combat was a death sentence. She needed to funnel them, leaving them no choice but to engage on her terms. She took advantage of them clambering up the tiles to score another kill, stabbing down through the neck of one of them. His body slid down, taking two of the brigands splashing into the water with him. Some climbed quicker, being more lightly armoured than their comrades, and were already advancing on her. Lanya chanced a look at the stranger, seeing him battling Patches and several of his men. He fought like a demon, parrying, riposting, countering and dodging like he had seen every move before it happened. Not surprising, she supposed, especially after seeing him leap several meters and kill five men in one go. And the other weapon he had, it was a marvel. She'd never heard anything so loud. Hell, she didn't even know what had killed the first one.
All those years of climbing trees with Diallos paid off as she sheathed her sword and leapt from one rooftop to another, catching herself on the very edge of the tiles and pulled herself up. She was used to wearing her chain mail, so climbing was no issue for her. She was just grateful the tiles didn't come loose under her weight. Two of the more nimble members of Patches' troupe cleared the gap with space to spare and attacked without hesitation. It was two against one, but better than her previous odds. Still, she was trained by House Hoslow's finest men-at-arms, all to be of service to their second-born son. Not only was she his childhood friend, but his loyal servant and bodyguard. She'd been made for fights like this.
They attacked in unison, not giving Lanya any space to manoeuvrer and forced her to take the full force of two blows. An axe and a club hammered into her shield, sending a painful jolt up her left arm as am alarming crack signalled the shield splitting. She grit her teeth and pushed back. One back-stepped, while the other drove forward as he tried to grapple around her shield. If she were taken to the ground and pinned, she'd be finished. From the corner of her vision, she saw another knelt with his crossbow aimed right at her. This would be a gamble, but if she timed it right...
The bolt was loosed with a thwack, and Lanya dropped her weight and tilted to the right. The man grappling her was forced to follow, and as they fell sprawling to the roof tiles, the bolt slammed right into his back, making light work of his leather armour. He shot to his knees and cried out breathlessly, only to be silenced when Lanya's blade drove through his neck and blood spray lashed one side of her face. She kicked his limp body off of the roof to the water below and stood. She quickly raised her shield to block the incoming axe strike. Another crack sounded, and she knew her shield couldn't take much more. She'd need to move again, certain that the same trick wouldn't work twice. Lanya kicked out, her foot firmly impacting the axe-wielder's midriff. She would have pressed the attack, but another bolt sailed just past her face, whistling as it went.
Lanya turned and bolted. There were still assailants waiting for her down below, their armour too heavy for them to make the jump to the rooftop. She decided the wisest option was to make her way back to the stranger. Surely he'd made short work of his own attackers by now. She looked down, seeing a dangerously high drop below her. To her left was a chimney, taller than her by a couple of feet. She could use that to her advantage. The axe-wielder carried his axe in his left hand and his shield in his right. He'd have no choice but to attack from the left with the chimney blocking him, or less likely, he'd attack with the shield. Both options would leave him wide open for a killing blow.
Her attacker was quick to follow, however, he'd seen through her gambit. Instead of attacking, he hunkered behind his shield and squeezed into the gap between the chimney and the edge of the roof. He was going to push her off. When Lanya had looked down, she saw to awnings or ledges for her to jump down to. She cursed silently. How could she make such a tactical error? If she attacked now, she'd leave herself off centre, making her much easier to push over. A fall from this height would likely kill her, or at least seriously injure her.
A cry of alarm went out, distracting both Lanya and the axe-wielder. Voices called out about being attacked, and chancing a look, she saw several groups of those squat, grey things with their bulbous heads and coal-black eyes. They were fighting with Patches' men, with more approaching by the second. She turned back to her opponent and took advantage of the momentary distraction. Clutching her shield close, she ran forward, ramming into him, shield to shield. Caught off-guard, he stumbled back and tried to regain his footing, but she kept going and rammed him again, this time knocking him down. Her sword flashed as it rose and then fell, plunging into the man's chest, killing him. Looking around, she saw that the crossbowman had left, most likely to regroup with the others. Sucking in a breath, she headed towards where she'd last seen the stranger fighting.
Talos threw out a hand, dark energies swirled around it and shot out in a burst. Three men were killed instantly, their upper bodies eaten away within mere moments when the Dark Bead hit them. He stayed in constant motion, never staying in one spot. He could have ended them all long before this point. But he wanted to see if he was right in his suspicions about Patches. Talos wanted to know if he could tease anything out that might be definitive proof that this was the Patches he'd encountered so many times over. Of the eight that had surrounded him, only four remained. He'd lost track of Lanya, but if she was anything like she'd said, he trusted her to take care of herself.
Patches himself was proving to be no slouch in a fight, despite his cowardly nature. Unless, that too, was a falsehood. A lie spun to disarm those who'd survived his schemes. But here, he fought like a whirlwind, answering every one of Talos' strikes with a perfect counter, be it a block or a dodge and riposte. His spear found its mark several times, evidenced by the trickles of blood running from the puncture marks in Talos' plate. Patches had suffered his own wounds, however. The most prevalent of them being the long gash up his side where he'd failed to block one in a flurry of sword strikes. It was a shallow injury, but bled in a steady flow. The fight was mostly between them now. His men had backed off, seeing no value in such a swift and pointless death.
''Suppose there's no point hiding it. It's good to see you, old mate. Gotta say, I sorta missed trying to trick you, especially after that nasty Yharnam business,'' Patches grinned with split lips as blood turned his teeth pink, courtesy of a backhand counter to the mouth. Luck must have been on his side, seeing as he still had all his teeth.
''So you do remember. How long?'' Talos asked. Patches shrugged.
''Well, it's just the darnedest thing. After that debacle in Yharnam, I guess you could say I had something of an awakening. I woke up here one day and BOOM! It all came rushing back. I'd say a reintroduction is in order, don't you?'' he bowed low, ''Patches the Untethered, at your service.''
''How?'' Talos asked in a hushed voice, ''how is it you can travel between worlds?''
''Beats me, mate. I could ask you the same. Somehow, wherever I am, you show up. And you always fall for the same old tricks. But then, I suppose that's just how it is. All part of that cycle, right?''
''So you know about the cycle?'' Talos shook his head, ''of course you do. How could you not? I don't know if you bear my curse, but I can only imagine that you're similarly afflicted.''
''Don't really care, to be honest. Maybe I would have, once,'' he twirled his spear in his hand, ''but we know how this goes, old chum. Neither of us dies here. You won't kill me, I'll escape, and best of all, you'll get a good kicking somewhere down the line. Just the way things are.'' He tilted his head as he heard the sounds of his remaining men calling out amid the sounds of a battle in the near-distance.
''Boss! Albinaurics attacking us!'' one of his men said in alarm. Patches sighed, then chuckled.
''Told you, didn't I? Time for us to leave, I suppose. Gonna get an earful from Tanith, though. Oh well,'' he looked at Talos and grinned again, ''we'll meet again, uh... Towel... or Tanner, was it? You only told me it once and I've forgotten. So long,'' he waved a hand as he turned, chuckling in his usual malicious way as he men scrambled to join him before all of them vanished.
Soon after, splashing and panting signalled Lanya's approached. Talos gave her a once-over. She didn't seem injured. Her shield was split with nasty cracks and gouges in its surface, and blood was still wet on her blade. She had blood drying on her face, but no wound. Talos was quietly impressed. She wasn't lying when she said she could handle danger. Lanya looked around and saw the numerous dead. Seeing three pairs of legs bereft of their torsos was unsettling, but she was too tired and coming down from her adrenaline rush to question it.
''Where's that bastard Patches?'' Lanya asked. Her eyes widened as she focused in on the various punctures and blood on his armour. ''Bloody hell! You alright?''
''Flesh wounds. That's all,'' Talos replied, ''he escaped. Had his men buy him time,'' he sheathed his sword and turned to her, ''you don't look any worse for wear.'' Lanya smirked as she sheathed her sword and dusted off her shoulder nonchalantly.
''Told ya' I could handle myself. Bit of a handful, but I got three of 'em. Now, how about we get... movin'...'' Talos noticed that she wasn't looking at him, but rather behind him. He turned and saw a small army of those small grey things, Albinaurics, as he'd heard one of Patches' men call them. All of them were stood still, their large black eyes staring unblinking. Worse, all of them held weapons.
Talos growled out a sigh. ''Bloody Patches...''