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The Character.
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Furnace 3 - ??? IIIThe shiny moving thing holds onto you as it gets up, and you decide you like the contact very much. You like the contact even more when it leans on you, even if it’s making your shoulder hurt more, and can’t help but feel disappointed when it pulls away. “It was rude of me not to introduce myself earlier. My name is Oscar of Astora.” The only sounds after that are its heaving breaths as it struggles to stay standing without your help. It bats your hand away as you try to reach out your hand to steady it. “I can— I can manage on my own.” It takes another sip of the Estus Flask. You remain unconvinced. You know you would have appreciated help when you were first figuring out your limbs. Finally, it seems satisfied at taming the shake of its legs. “Say, kind undead, what is your name?” Your name…? “I don— I do no— I dun— Gah—” Sounds are getting easier, but your tongue still keeps disagreeing and it’s frustrating. “Iiiiii… dunno.” You finally sound out. It makes a sound that you’re pretty sure means it's disappointed. “I suppose we should give you one, then. Though, I certainly wouldn’t consider names to be a strong suit of mine… So let’s save that for later, shall we? For now, we should deal with that arrow in your shoulder.” “Okay!” You respond. It turns out removing the arrow hurts very very much, wayyy more than it getting there in the first place. Oscar gave you the Estus Flask after though, and that made things better. Very interesting too, the feeling of the estus and stuff. After that, there was something about you being “not ready to fight” but you’re not sure what that means, yet. “Yet” is the important part, because you want to understand since you’re pretty sure that will make Oscar feel better. Oscar wanted to do something with your hair, too, so maybe letting it do that will help it too. Oscar instructs you to sit down, and you listen, curious about what exactly it's going to do. You see it take something small from its waist, and flinch on instinct before Oscar steadies you. It looks a lot like the pointy bit of the arrow Oscar took out. “This is a dagger.” Oscar sounds out. “I’m not going to hurt you with it. I am going to use it to cut your hair. Do you understand?” You think so? Mostly? You nervously nod. “…Okay.” “You’re getting better with words.” Oscar comments as it settles down behind you, beginning to inspect your hair. You can’t see what Oscar does afterwards, but there’s a faint sound and feeling to it, and then after that Oscar is back to inspecting your hair. You make a questioning noise, and Oscar hands you a hunk of blue before returning to its work. You fiddle with the hunk in your hands, trying to understand what it is. Blue and stringy, but also stuck all together and Oscar gave it to y— Oh! You guess it's your hair then! Weird. The hair turns out to be fun to fiddle with as you wait patiently for Oscar to finish. You look at the rest of the hair on the ground curiously, and reach up your hand to feel where it used to be. It’s a lot easier to move your fingers through than it was before, and now that the feeling is gone, you realize all the stuck hair was feeling bad to be there, so now you feel better because it’s not. All this hair stuff is interesting, you decide, as you fiddle with the cut-off chunk still in your hands. You should thank Oscar, you decide, but get stuck on the words. Instead, you opt to lean back against it, trying to express your thanks through the closeness. Oscar tenses, and you realize that might’ve been the wrong choice. Oscar pushes you back into the position you were sitting in, and you turn to look at it, confused. “There’s still more to do.” Oscar quickly states, getting away from your leaning as it hurriedly moves to sitting in front of you. Oscar begins to trim the hair on your face, and it's hard to stay still when you can see the dagger so close to your face, even when Oscar said it wouldn’t hurt you with it. You can feel its gaze burning into you. Eventually, Oscar is satisfied, putting the dagger away and helping pull you back to your feet. “Next is armour.” Oscar states. “Do you know where you’re from?” It asks, as it removes pieces of cloth from the moving thing it stopped. You turn your gaze from how its removing the cloth, and look at it funny. You guess you had a place to be from, if it wants to know, like with your name, but you have no idea what it was. “I-I-I dunno.” You respond. It gives you a funny look back, as it stands back up. “I suppose that’s not surprising, if you can’t remember your name, either.” It says as it ties the fabric around your shoulders. “Was worth a try, though.” Once the fabric is secure around your shoulders, Oscar takes a step back, the tilt of its helmet showing it to be looking over you. Next, Oscar returns to the no longer moving thing, and bends down to pick something up. The no longer moving thing had used the sword— Oscar gave you the word for it— to try and attack you with it, so you wonder why Oscar is— It takes one of your hands and places the handle of the sword with it, before adjusting your hand around it. Huh. Oscar does have a sword, so you guess it’s making sure you have one too? “I’ll show you how to swing it.” It states. You think the sword-learning goes pretty well. Oscar says it goes good-enough, at least. Oscar shows you different positions and movements, and you have no idea how it remembers them all. But! If you can remember them all too, you think Oscar would be very happy with you, and then you’d be happy too because of that. You keep that thought pinned in place as you follow Oscar through a corridor and— A sudden jolt goes through your hand with a flash of hurt. The sound of the sword clattering to the ground alerts you to the fact you dropped it before feeling comes back to your hand. Oscar turns around to look at you. “Hand stopped.” You whine, pointing at the jolted hand with your other one. “What do you mean your hand— By the flame— I’ll come and look.” Oscar takes hold of your hand, inspecting the infrequent shakes. It makes a faint clicking noise. “Sit down. That will make things easier.” You comply, and Oscar walks out of your sight, returning later with fabric bunched in one of its hands. Oscar places the sword in your now-calmed hand, carefully adjusting your grip to the way it showed you earlier. It takes the fabric, unbunching it into a strip, and winds it around your hand until you can barely move your fingers, the sword now locked to your hand after it ties the strip. As it gives you room to get a feel for the swish of the sword again, you can feel it silently looking at you, more intense than when it was first teaching you. Eventually, it gives a nod. “This way.” Oscar says. Oscar moves you into a crouching position, and points towards the leftward doorway. “The asylum’s demon is there, down below. Once we’re at the ledge, on my signal, we will drop down to attack from above, then improvise with what I’ve shown you once we’re on the ground. Is that understood?” You nod, but your legs stop cooperating when you see the thing Oscar wants to fight. It’s the big moving thing from earlier. You miss Oscar’s signal, not that you’d be able to follow it. Oscar drops down, plunging its sword into the big moving thing’s head. It thrashes around, trying to get rid of Oscar, but your companion manages to hold on until it gets its sword back out, a spray of dark liquid coming out with it as Oscar drops onto the ground. You shut your eyes tight. You’re scared the fight will change, and Oscar will get hurt. You can still hear the noises, though, so you also cover your ears. You wait— —and wait— —for what feels like forever and no time at all— —and then the noises stop. You look. The big moving thing— well it’s not moving anymore, so you guess it’s no longer a big moving thing. But just calling it a big thing wouldn’t make sense because there’s a lot of big, non -moving things here, so it’s easier to just keep calling it a big moving thing and— Your thinking is stopped by a mounting feeling of bad bad bad rising in your stomach as you feel Oscar glare at you from down below, from where it stands next to the no longer moving thing. It runs a hand over its helmet, before shaking his head. Adjusting how it's standing, it cups a hand in front of its helmet and calls up to you. “Stay there! I’ll find you.” And Oscar does. When it gets there, it crouches down and reaches for your upper arm, stroking its thumb across it until the okay feeling is enough for you to stop shaking. It guides you back up to your feet and then leads you to the warming thing from right before the giant moving thing and makes you sit down. “You need to get braver.” It says. Your eyes feel funny. The two of you sit there for a while, before Oscar tells you it’s time to continue. The large key opens the large doors out into a new and intriguing view. There’s no walls as far as you can see, though maybe those rocky gray things in the distance are walls too? Though they’re a lot more jagged, and you can’t see the smaller bits they’re made of like you can with the walls, so you’re not sure. Speaking of the wall bits… “What’re th-those?” You ask, pointing at the walls that are now behind the two of you. “I-I know tho— th-they’re walls but what’re th’ stuff walls are made of? I like th-th-the shapes.” “Bricks?” Oscar responds. You nod, and remember its earlier words, from before it helped with the arrow. “I— like th’t sound. Can th-they be my name? Here a long time like me, right?” Oscar pauses. “That’s what you want your name to be?” You nod. “Well then.” It reaches out to grab your hand and bring it to its other one, clasping them together. It shakes them, before speaking again. “Nice to know you, Brick.”Furnace 2 - ??? IIThe doors give way to your efforts achingly slowly, and your body hurts again by the time there’s enough room to wiggle through. The room is like the one you just came from, sort of, but different because instead of a warming thing in the middle, there’s tall… things around the edges. They don’t look like anything else you’ve seen. There’s another set of big doors ahead, so you start to walk towards th— Something large and imposing and towering suddenly slams into the tiles before you, between you and the next set of doors. You didn’t know things could feel bad to look at, but this thing does. It’s a lot bigger than any other moving thing you’ve seen. You also didn’t know there were moving things bigger than— well the doors were moving, but that was because of you, but you didn’t know there were moving-on-its-own things bigger than you. You stand frozen, until it starts to swing the thing its holding at you and then you see a way out and then you run run run, barreling past the door and stumbling down the stairs as the thud of the thing’s weapon and the shattering noise of other things sounds out behind you. You barely avoid tripping, and by the time you stop at the bottom of the stairs, your legs are hurting worse than they’ve felt before, and they’re so shaky that you worry that they’ll stop working again. You stand bent over, with your hands on your legs as your chest burns and shudders, and it feels like there’s something in it trying to get out out out . Once you can tell what’s around you again, you notice a light to your right, and after turning your head to see another of those nice warming things, you stumble towards it, sinking into the comforting warmth. You curl up next to the warmth, and stay there long after you feel better. The only thing that gets you moving again is wanting to be more away from that big moving thing. This time, it’s a bit frustrating how long it takes you to get to your feet, your legs stopping listening to you multiple times and making you start over. There’s a point of opening-light that caught your interest, and you want to go there. Using your hand to help, you slowly make it to where the patch of openness starts and— Oh! There’s another moving thing! Holding something interesting too. But before you can approach it that much, the other moving thing does something with the thing it’s holding, and you hear a thunk as a sudden pain comes from your shoulder. You stagger back, hand catching on a wall, and then you realize there’s an opening right to your left and that’s easier to go into than back to the room with the warmth. You don’t even need to look down to notice the thing sticking out of your shoulder, and poking at it makes your shoulder hurt more, so you try really really hard not to touch it again even though you really want to. The other thing you notice in the room is something interesting-shaped on the ground. Picking it up, ignoring the shoulder-hurting, on one side it’s got nice and pretty colours, and on the other side it has dangly thingies, and after poking around at them you figure out that the dangly things go nicely over your hand, so you decide to take the pretty-and-interesting thing with you. Walking out of the room, you remember suddenly why you went in there in the first place, but it’s too late and you can hear another swishy noise and a thunk as you tense but… no hurt?. Opening your eyes, you see another thing like what’s in your shoulder, but instead of in you, it's in the pretty thing. It looks like you’ve got the pretty thing between you and the hurt now? So that’s better, and you can continue going farther away from the really big and scary thing. When you get closer, the hurting moving thing starts going away. You’re proud of yourself for picking up the pretty-and-interesting thing, because now you know it's also pretty-and-useful. There’s a corner to turn and then steps to go upwards, and the hurting moving thing continues to go away, until it's not, and it’s shoving at you, though that’s not doing much but frustrate you. You grab it, and move to shove it back the way you just went up, just wanting to get it away from you. You succeed, because now the hurty moving thing is going down what you just went up, and the noise that happens when it's at the bottom and stops is startling and bad and you don’t like it very much. You stare at the moving thing that hurt you and it doesn’t move from where it fell. You wonder if something similar happened to the thing the shiny-moving thing gave you, because both came from somewhere more up, and then weren’t moving at the bottom. Casting a final, wary look at it, you continue forwards. The first thing you see when you walk out into the next openness is a half-there door, like the first one you opened, and past it is… the moving thing? You’re pretty sure it is, at least. It’s not moving much, which you don’t like. You approach the half-there door. There aren’t any jingly shiny things around like what the moving thing gave you, and you’re upset you didn’t take them the whole way like you did with the pretty-and-helpful thing. Trying to have your hands investigate like with the first one makes a loud and bad noise happen, but now the half-there door’s placed in a different way, so you cautiously try again. The half-there door moves in a way you don’t expect, and then your hands get jittery and bad and you drop it, stepping back as it falls over and makes a really really bad noise. It makes your chest feel all jittery and bad, and there’s some new and unpleasant feeling in your throat. You look around for another warming thing, because that helped make things better last time, but you can’t see any. What you see instead does manage to help a bit too though. The shiny moving thing finally moved again when you were paying attention to the door, its head turned towards you now, and that makes some of the badness go away, enough for you to try to get your legs to bring you over to it. As you start, suddenly it starts making noises towards you and you think the noises have a meaning that you think you understand? “Oh, you. You’re no hollow, hm? Thank goodness. I’m done for, I’m afraid.” You don’t like the shakiness of the noises. Everything else about it is so solid, and your thoughts about those different things aren’t agreeing. “My insides are damaged. I’ll die soon, then… lose my sanity. I can feel it coming.” It pauses, as you let your legs stop and fold once you’re close enough, and lean towards it, full of concern. “I wish to ask something of you. You are a godsend, to come at this moment.” It makes a funny sound. That sound is a lot better than all the other sounds it’s been making, you decide. “You and I, we’re both undead. Hear me out, will you?” You’re not entirely sure if it’s the right sound, but you try anyways, tripping over your mouth until you manage “O-Oh-kay.” It looks at you weird for that noise, but you don’t know if it’s because you did the wrong noise or spent so long trying to make it. Either way, it continues making noises of its own. “Thank you. Regrettably, I have failed in my mission, but perhaps you can keep the torch lit. There is an old saying in my family. “Thou who art Undead, art chosen… In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the land of Ancient Lords… When thou ringeth the Bell of Awakening, the fate of the Undead thou shalt know.” Well, now you know… And I can die with hope in my heart…” It stops for a moment, before seeming to remember something. “…Oh, and one more thing… Here, take this. It’s an Estus Flask, an Undead favourite. Has healing properties.” It takes an interesting looking thing from its side and holds it out towards you. It reminds you of the warming things from earlier. “Though, maybe you should take the arrow out of your shoulder before drinking.” You’re not sure what an arrow is, but if its in your shoulder… you poke at the long thing that hurt you earlier, and scrunch up your face when more pain comes. “Yes, that is an arrow… are… you that near hollowing?” You don’t know what this “hollowing” thing is. You’re not sure how to respond because of that, so instead you try to make another purposeful noise like you managed earlier, but all you manage to make is a “ih.” It tilts its head at you. Scrunching your face, you try again. “Ihh….Lh..” Still not it. The shiny moving thing makes noises seem easy. You try yet again. “Hail.” The noise is clipped and half-mumbled, but the moving thing finally responds, so you did well enough at making it. “Hail fellow.” The moving thing sounds out. “I told you, I’m done for, but perhaps you are too, in the long run.” You whine at that. “Nooo.” You insist, noise a bit easier this time, trying to tug on its arm as you half-stand. It gives a strained grunt, before tugging its arm back, stopping you. “My insides are damaged. It’s too late for me.” If the liquid can help you, why can’t it help the shiny moving thing? You don’t know the right noises, but you try to make your point by pushing the Estus Flask back towards it. “That is an Estus Flask. It will heal you. I must really bid farewell now… I would hate to harm you after death… So, go now…” That’s not what you meant! You push the flask towards it again. The thing stares at you. It seems to finally understand what you’re actually trying to do. After a while, it makes a sound again, almost too too quiet for you to hear. “……Why?” You’re frustrated again at not knowing how to sound out the whys, so you just shake the flask at it again. “I…” It starts, and you think maybe the shiny moving thing’s going to make more noise, but then instead it takes the shiny part over its head off, putting it down next to itself with barely any noise. You wonder how close your heads look to each other. From your nose, and the hair that's in front of your face the colours are different though, you’re pretty sure. It takes the flask back. The shiny moving thing stares at the stuff inside weirdly, before bringing it up to its lips.Similar ArtworksSee Morearrow_outward