As last happened in the previous chapter, Reane and Latenna are pushed towards the juvenile dragons. The dragons, trying to ward them off, roar.
One dragon tries to snap at them.
Latenna fires.
Arrows pierce the dragon's tongue and eyes; the dragon recoils in pain. Reane expertly winds around it.
Reane and Latenna press forward, unable to stop the frightened horse. It would probably be a bad idea to calm it, as they have attracted the attention of more juveniles.
The juvenile dragons bite at Reane, Latenna and Champion; Latenna fires arrows at them.
A dragon raises its tail, the same size as Champion.
The dragon smacks its tail against Champion. Reane and Latenna fall off.
Champion kicks wildly in the air, in pain and fear. The juvenile, craving flesh, opens its maw.
The dragon bites down, munching on Champion's warm flesh.
The juveniles bicker among one another for the horse's flesh.
Reane and Latenna look in horror, trying to back away from the scene.
Ensha charges at them on his horse. Reane turns around, pivoting herself on her hand.
Reane sees Latenna struggle on the ground, trying to crawl on the mud with her hands.
Reane tries to pull Latenna through the mud.
Ensha comes. Reane, with her other hand, pulls out her foil, while trying to help Latenna.
Ensha raises his Clinging Bone.
Reane tries to stab Ensha's horse, but she misses, or Ensha skillfully evades her; he brings the end of the humerus into her, knocking her backwards and gashing her abdomen.
Reane cringes in pain, covering the wound in her stomach; Ensha, cowboy that he is, jumps off the charging horse.
Ensha grabs onto Reane's clothing, not so gently patting her in search for something.
Reane is prepared for Ensha and tries to beat him with the butt of her foil upon the head.
Ensha takes a large fistful of her shirt.
Ensha rips off Reane's shirt. Perhaps the act may seem erotic to some readers, but, in reality, the clothing hid Reane's emaciated form and the various wounds she suffered in imprisonment, from cutting off her nipples to slipping knives into her ribs. She screams.
Reane recalls the hooded torturers bringing their brands into her flesh, smiling and laughing the whole time.
Having not found what he wanted, Ensha rips off Reane's trousers too.
Reane recalls a torturer, in smiling sadistic pleasure, raising the spiky rod menacingly at her naked form.
In mocking laughter her torturers brand her flesh, searing her with a permanent symbol of their power over her.
They laugh and laugh.
With tears in her eyes, Reane tries to fight Ensha off her. The brand is clearly shown in this panel.
Ensha jumbles the clothes in his hands, but feels nothing hard in them.
He tosses them away.
Turning, he sees Latenna, helplessly crawling through the mud.
A juvenile dragon tries to bite Ensha.
Ensha evades; the dragon bites into empty air.
Ensha raises his hand outward; an ethereal color emanates from it.
As if by a spectral hand, Reane is pulled closer to Ensha, and is now underneath the dragon.
Ensha runs to Latenna, not wanting to lose his prey. The dragon looks at Reane, wanting to eat this scrawnier, but easier, prey.
Reane cringes. Reane, in thought: It's not fair.
The dragon opens its maw. Reane, in thought: It can't end like this.
Morrowe charges in, throwing himself off Swift and plunging into the dragon's eye.
Somehow, with the force of his leap and the violence of his action, he pushes the dragon to its side, perhaps because it is smaller than the ones they had fought before.
The dragon toppled over, Morrowe raises his scimitar into the air.
He plunges the sword into the dragon's eye.
The dragon squirms, and dies.
Ensha is about to catch Latenna, but sees the Tarnished running in the distance.
Fearful for a moment, he hatches a plan quickly.
He waves hello at the Tarnished. Rhys: Ensha! Rhys: In the nick of time!
He grabs Latenna and hauls her over his shoulder, acting as if he is trying to rescue her from danger. The Tarnished try to ward off the dragons.
Morrowe sees Reane's broken form. Though Morrowe is ever joking, even he can see that Reane was concealing wounds far worse than anyone could have known. Morrowe: ...Reane.
Reane slaps down Morrowe's hand. Reane: Morrowe, Reane: it's him. Reane: He's trying to take Latenna.
Morrowe turns around, seeing Ensha carrying off Latenna.
Morrowe trusts Reane implicitly, and so has an expression of unspeakable anger on his face.
Morrowe: HEY! VILLAIN!
Ensha sees Morrowe, briefly. He hops on his horse, racing away.
Morrowe, without thinking rationally, jumps on Swift, giving chase.
Rhys reaches Reane. Rhys: ...Reane. Reane: I'm fine, I'm fine. Don't dote on me.
Rhys, yelling: Hey! Someone give the woman a shirt!
Latenna tries to fight back against Ensha.
Ensha gives her a full knocks on the head, spilling blood and rendering her unconscious.
Ensha pats vigorously around Latenna's form. He hits something hard.
He pulls it out: the half of the Haligtree Medallion.
He throws Latenna off; he hopes, seeing Morrowe on his tail, he will stop and catch her.
He does not know Morrowe. Morrowe, maddened, charges past Latenna. Perhaps he has a better sense for what's important than most would credit him, or he's just simply too passionate to think clearly.
Ensha, alarmed, races forward.
The two race through the Dragonbarrow.
Rhys: Everyone! Retreat!
Rhys points to a white hill. Rhys: Move to higher ground! We'll sap the dragons' str-
The hill stirs. Rhys: ...
The hill lifts itself up, shrouding the Tarnished in shadow.
The face of Elder Dragon Greyoll, the mother of the dragons in the Dragonbarrow.
She roars, causing the earth to tremble, the trees to shatter and the wind to howl.
Rhys, with Reane, dives behind a stone. A somewhat silly idea, but it makes sense to lessen the strength of the soundwaves.
A Tarnished is caught in the soundwaves. Blood shoots out of her ears; she slumps over and dies.
Other Tarnished, by the sheer power of the scream, are pushed against stone and trees.
Morrowe dramatically swerves away from Greyoll, hiding Swift behind a hill. Ensha, however, is not so fast.
The scream knocks Ensha off his horse, and throws the horse into the air, like a hurricane.
Ensha tries to pick himself off the ground, but his skull rattles against the metal of his helm. And yet, he does not succumb.
Greyoll stops her scream. Other juvenile dragons, however, heed her alarm.
The juveniles themselves scream, acknowledging their mother's war-cry.
Anastasia, chewing on a finger, joins Rhys and Reane. Anastasia: Hello, folks. Anastasia: Not a good scene, huh?
Rhys: I... Rhys: Uh... Rhys: I don't know what to do.
Rhys, to Reane: Should we run?
Rhys has torn off part of his cape and wrapped it tightly around Reane's abdomen. For the most part, she is still naked. Rhys's armor continues to look worse and worse. Reane: ... Reane: Come to think of it, is the big one moving?
Anastasia peeks out. Anastasia: No. She's resting and...lying there.
The dragons are walking around, sniffing for Tarnished. Anastasia, in card: I guess she relies on the smaller ones.
Reane, to Rhys: Your instinct may be correct - Reane: we run to the hill, after they've run themselves thin looking for us.
Reane: We've come this far. Reane: We shouldn't give up now.
Rhys: ...What about the way back? Rhys: That must've stirred something.
Reane: Yes, away from us. Reane: Those dogs are big, but not bigger than the dragons.
Anastasia rolls up her sleeves. Anastasia: Well, you heard the woman -
Anastasia picks up Reane in her arms. Anastasia: Let's press forward!
Reane, blushing: Thank you, Anastasia.
Rhys: The other Tarnished... Rhys: Perhaps they'll follow our example.
Rhys: Reane, can you give the signal?
Reane watches intently. Reane: ...
Reane: Now.
The Tarnished run, with dragons surveiling the landscape.
A dragon sights them.
The dragon tries to scream, but Rhys, prepared, bids several dark-blue blades to enter its mouth.
He then cuts its tongue to pieces with a blade conjured from his staff.
The dragon tries to scream but no sound comes out, only a rasp; blood pours from its throat. The Tarnished move on.
Reane: ...None of them are gathering by the dragon's back. Reane: Let's move there.
The Tarnished push forward to Greyoll's back. In the distance they see a struggle between Ensha and Morrowe, with some Tarnished holding them back.
Tarnished: Morrowe, stop! Morrowe has the medallion in his hand. Morrowe: I'm telling you, this man is a dastard! Morrowe: I'm going to kill him!
Ensha sees Rhys and Reane coming in the distance.
Ensha elbows the Tarnished holding Morrowe back, and grabs at the medallion.
Ensha pulls out a Furled Finger, intending to convey himself out of this reality.
Arrows shoot the Finger and the medallion out of his hands.
Latenna, having crawled her way through the earth leaving a trail behind her, has intercepted Ensha.
Morrowe throws himself on Ensha.
Morrowe throws off Ensha's helm. Morrowe: Show yourself, coward.
Ensha's face is revealed; he is always gloomy, his skin is pale, the color of his hair is white, his hair is close-cropped and he has stubble. In fact, he seems quite pathetic.
Rhys and Anastasia are running. Rhys: Morrowe! Rhys: No time!
A dragon is chasing Rhys and Anastasia.
The Tarnished flee; Morrowe grabs onto the Finger and medallion, while other Tarnished handle Ensha.
The Tarnished run toward Fort Faroth, looming in the distance in its intimidating strength.
The Tarnished stand on the staircase leading to Fort Faroth. Reane comes out of Anastasia's arms and stands. Reane: Alright, our footing should be better here.
The dragon seems defensive, even apprehensive of the fort. Reane: ...if the thing comes, that is. Reane: What is it shy of?
Shrieking is heard above. The Tarnished look up.
Harpies fly down from the battlements; the Tarnished duck.
The Harpies rush at the dragon, gripping its head with their claws. The dragon shakes its head violently.
The Harpies, collectively, scream into the dragon's ears; blood pours out of its ears.
The dragon slumps over and dies.
Harpies gather around the dragon's corpse, like a murder of crows; they feast on its flesh.
Other dragons, from the distance, warily back away.
More harpies stand proud over the battlements, watching over the fort. Reane: Another damned thing after another...
Morrowe, to a Tarnished holding Ensha: Bring him down.
Ensha is thrown to the ground.
He looks to Rhys, not necessarily looking for sympathy but for answer.
Rhys: Ensha, Rhys: your services are no longer needed.
Rhys: Thank you. Rhys: You may return to your private business. Morrowe towers over Ensha.
Morrowe kicks dirt into Ensha's eyes. Morrowe: Get up.
Morrowe pulls Ensha up by the collar. Morrowe: Hey. Morrowe: You dumb?
Morrowe slaps Ensha across the face. Morrowe: Small-brained, sallow-faced, rat-eating puke of a bastard, Morrowe: duel me.
Morrowe: I'm stronger than you. Morrowe: So you can die with some peace in mind, knowing there's a better man out there.
Morrowe: Does your feebleminded limpwristed ass of a lord Roderick sanction your harassing defenseless girls? Morrowe: I'll wipe that shit-stain, after you.
Ensha, enraged, spits in Morrowe's face.
Morrowe steps back, wiping the spit from his face. Morrowe: Fine.
Morrowe: Rhys, count down to three.
The warriors have their weapons readied. Rhys: One, two...
Rhys: Three! The warriors rush at each other.
Ensha readies the Clinging Bone.
Ensha lunges with the Clinging Bone but, with a sleight of hand, Morrowe parries the blow with his scimitars. Ensha's hand is pushed back.
Morrowe kicks Ensha back.
Ensha is in the dirt. Morrowe: Hey. Get up.
Ensha stands up.
Ensha backs away from Morrowe.
He raises his hand, an ethereal color around it.
Morrowe is pulled toward Ensha; Ensha readies the Clinging Bone.
Morrowe, without batting an eye, parries again.
Morrowe beats Ensha's head with the butt of his scimitar.
Ensha is on the ground. Blood is pouring down his head.
Tarnished: I've never seen someone so helpless at the hands of another.
Rhys: ...his eye to his mind, his mind to his hand is faster than any I've seen. Rhys: I never understood what Gaer saw in him, until now.
Reane: I knew. Reane: I saw him best Gaer in a duel. Reane: He's no good with monsters, but he's a mankiller.
Morrowe, towering over Ensha: Oh, come on. Morrowe: You wouldn't last on the seas.
Morrowe: You're the best man? Morrowe: Best man for a shrimp.
Ensha: ... Ensha: Don't speak ill...of lord Gideon...
Ensha: He, is the next Elden Lord.
Reane, recognizing the name: ! Morrowe: Gideon? Who?
Ensha throws sands at Morrowe; Morrowe closes his eyes. Morrowe: Hey!
Ensha's Clinging Bone surges with arcane energy.
Ensha lunges forward.
Morrowe, his eyes closed, readies his scimitar.
Morrowe, predictably, parries again.
In a blur, Morrowe chops off Ensha's head with one blow.
Ensha's head rolls on the ground.
A harpy wraps its talons on it, eating it.
Morrowe turns to Reane. Morrowe: Now that this nasty business has resolved itself...
Morrowe removes his vest, handing it to Reane. Reane: What are you...
Morrowe throws his robes, sky-blue, over his head. Reane: Hey! Reane: Pervert!
Reane looks away. Morrowe adds the robe to the vest. Morrowe: Wear my clothes. Morrowe: I apologize for getting some blood on them.
Reane: Morrowe... Reane: Are you sure? Morrowe: Yes.
Morrowe: ...I'm coarse, but I don't countenance a woman in trouble. Reane: Thank you.
Morrowe: It's fine. Morrowe: I'm not cold. Morrowe is shivering. Reane makes a face.
Reane looks upward at the harpies, with Morrowe's clothing. Reane: So...what do we do now?
Rhys: I was hoping to ask you. Reane: ...
Reane: Most of this would be rotted wood?
The Tarnished stare at the tall, proud structure.
The Tarnished hold burning torches in their hands.
They throw the torches inside of the fort, where giant bats slumber.
The torches ignite the wooden scaffolding within the fort. The bats and harpies are in a panic.
The fort erupts into an inferno. The giant bats and harpies scatter from the fire, which throws dark shadows on the ground.
The frenzied creatures descend upon the Tarnished.
The Tarnished retaliate, Rhys with his magical swords, Latenna with her arrows.
Rhys: Go! Rhys and a few Tarnished, including Morrowe but not including Reane and Latenna, rush into the burning fort.
In the blazing fort, a harpy lunges at one of the Tarnished.
The harpy gouges the Tarnished's eyes out and screams, shattering their eardrums.
Morrowe cuts off the harpy's wings.
Rhys: We have to hurry! It's difficult to breathe in the smoke!
The Tarnished push forward, into a wider area within the fort. Inside they see a great quantity of bats and harpies, some of them on fire.
The creatures attack. The Tarnished defend themselves.
Rhys rushes to the back of the room, where a ladder can be seen ascending to the fort's battlements.
A bat lunges at Rhys.
Morrowe cuts it.
Rhys climbs up the ladder, smoke pouring upward.
He steps onto the tower's battlements.
Before him, placed on an area of importance on the wall, probably as a means for the fort's inhabitants to worship Marika, is the medallion half. If we're going to be real, it's weird the medallion half, in the game, is in a chest somewhere in the fort. I'm not sure what a more suitable location would be, so I'll try to retain as much of the game's original detail as possible.
Rhys takes the medallion half.
The flying creatures ascend from the smoke.
They chase Rhys. Rhys flees on the fort's battlements.
He leaps, landing onto another section of the fort.
Rhys lunges backwards, stabbing the bats with a projected dark-blue lance.
Behind Rhys, a spectral hand forms.
The hand, belonging to the spirit of a Radahn soldier, grips its sword.
The spirit lunges at Rhys. Rhys narrowly evades. Rhys: Whoa!
With a projected greatsword, Rhys cuts a bat and the spirit in half.
To Rhys's surprise, the spirit does, indeed, fall in half, dissolving in ash. Rhys expected spirit logic.
To his astonishment, more spirits surround him.
Rhys: Stubborn keepers. Rhys: "Only the faithful", huh?
Rhys dodges them, and the oncoming harpies.
He reaches the edge of the battlement.
He looks behind them, seeing many enemies chasing after him.
He looks down the edge of the fort. Rhys: Heights... I hate heights...
Down below is Morrowe, waving his arms. His body is sooty. Morrowe: Rhys! Jump!
Rhys hesitates, looking behind him.
He jumps.
Rhys lands on Morrowe. Rhys, Morrowe: Oof!
Morrowe is flattened on the ground. Morrowe: I think...every bone in my body is broken...
Rhys: You idiot! What, did you think you could catch a falling suit of armor?! Rhys: I think my leg is broken...
Reane: I hope not. The Tarnished are surrounded in all sides, by bats, harpies, and dragons.
The creatures are waiting patiently, observing who will make the first move.
Reane: Rhys, do you have - Rhys: Yes.
Reane: ...Maybe these two have more enmity against the other than to us...
Rhys: So? Reane: So we move all slow-like.
The Tarnished maneuver slowly against the edge of the cliff, facing the rest of Caelid proper. The creatures observe them.
The Tarnished clearly see the dragons, bats and harpies alike are very particular on them. Reane: Nevermind. Reane: Run!
The Tarnished run, but they're cut off from their previous path by dragons.
Morrowe, pointing down: Down the cliff!
The Tarnished climb down the cliff; Morrowe helps Latenna, while other Tarnished try to help Reane and Rhys.
Pandemonium on the cliffside, as the dragons and bats square off. The dragons, seeing the Tarnished are halfway down the cliff, give up.
Rhys, at the bottom of the cliff: I hate heights...
Reane and Morrowe survey Caelid proper. Reane, to Morrowe: So...your plan was to strand us in the middle of Caelid? Morrowe: Hey, it's the best I could come with. Morrowe: You're usually the plan-maker.
Reane and Morrowe look out. The Church of the Plague is in the background, with the ruins of Sellia, the Town of Sorcery nearby. The Swamp of Aeonia is somewhere in the frame. Morrowe: We could climb back up. Reane: ...I have no idea where we are, in this hell. Morrowe, calling out to Swift: Swift! Move that way!
Reane: I guess...if we're on this side of the lake, Reane: we're...directly north?
Reane: Meaning, we have to wind through the entire highway back to Limgrave? Tarnished: Oh gods. We're doomed.
Tarnished: All those dogs and crows and...whatever else is out there.
Everyone looks at Morrowe angrily. Morrowe: H-hey now, we're currently alive, right? Morrowe: Let's be thankful.
Reane, to the other Tarnished: I'm curious about this - Reane: Do you lot know what the Roundtable Hold is?
Tarnished: Roundtable...what? Other Tarnished: Never heard of it. Reane: Nevermind then.
Reane, to Rhys, privately: I think...only certain Tarnished are allowed in the Hold.
Rhys: So... Reane: Gareth's in the Ravine, and no one we know is in Stormveil.
Gideon, disembodied: Rhys. Rhys: ...Roderick? Reane: ?
Rhys, to Reane: Wait, hold on. Rhys removes himself. Gideon: Rhys, I know the predicament you are in.
Gideon: My apologies for Ensha. Gideon: He got...rather ahead of himself, let's just say. Gideon: Couldn't comprehend the greater cause.
Gideon: As his master, I'd like to express my regret. Gideon: But now, Ensha is slain and gone. Gideon: Finished, forever more.
Gideon: I'll never abandon you. Gideon: We are fellow hopefuls for the Elden Throne. Gideon: We will unite this realm, for that is the stuff we are made of.
Gideon: I know where you are. Gideon: I am sending knights to rescue you.
Gideon: Meet them at the southern end of the lake, by sundown. Gideon: They're capable men; brave; unafraid of the dangers of Caelid.
Gideon: But...be mindful of the dragon. Gideon: We'll speak again.
Rhys returns to the Tarnished. Rhys, to Reane: I just spoke to Roderick. Rhys: He says his knights will arrive at the south end of the lake.
Reane: That's no consolation to me. Rhys: He apologized for Ensha's transgressions. Reane: That's nice.
Reane: But, it's the best we've got. Reane: I'll figure something out.
The Tarnished walk down the cliff; Morrowe gives Latenna a piggyback ride. They enter a graveyard. In the distance is the Church of the Plague. Reane: Well, this is...quiescent, so far. Rhys: No monsters.
They see the Kindred of Rot in the distance, guarding the church and its graveyard. They are horrifying sight, with small arms dangling out of their mouths, their long thin carapaces covered in little hairs. Rhys: Ah. Nevermind.
Reane: Should we take the pains in making contact? Rhys: Can they even talk?... Anastasia: How about I give it a go?
Anastasia approaches the church, her giant cleaver on her back. The Kindred of Rot tense up, holding their glaives. Anastasia: Hey! Lanky folk!
Anastasia, pointing to herself: We're... Anastasia, making her arms in the sign of an X: Peaceful!
Rhys: Lord.
The Kindred of Rot stare fiercely at her.
They then relax.
Anastasia gives the Tarnished a thumbs-up. Reane solemnly nods.
The Kindred of Rot, not inherently bad, share various foods with them, as fermented livers and such. Anastasia eats them. Anastasia: This is wonderful! Reane looks warily at her. Reane: I do wonder if your constitution is...normal. Morrowe, as noted, is carrying Latenna.
Morrowe hears a woman groaning in pain, behind the church walls. Morrowe: That's...
Morrowe puts Latenna down. Morrowe: Someone needs my help!
Morrowe runs toward the church. The Kindred of Rot, suddenly defensive, try to block him with their glaives.
He jumps over their heads, entering the church.
The Kindred of Rot turn on the Tarnished. Reane, holding her foil: Hold on, hold on!
Reane and the Tarnished drop their weapons. Reane: We don't mean you ill will! Reane: Let's not fight!
Reane: What got Morrowe in such a state?... Reane: Anastasia, they've taken a liking to you. Follow him.
Anastasia presses forward. The Kindred of Rot are defensive. Anastasia: Easy now...
For Anastasia only, they let their weapons drop.
One Kindred of Rot escorts Anastasia into the Church.
Morrowe is fending off some Kindred in the Church, threatening them with his scimitar. Morrowe: Back off, you curs! Anastasia runs in.
In a great big bear hug, she suppresses Morrowe. Anastasia: Hey now! Let's not be too hasty, fellow! Morrowe: These things aren't worth defending!
Anastasia: What can be so urgent...
A view of everyone's favorite Millicent, slumped on the walls of the Church of the Plague; her face is fallen and stoic, her legs are folded, and her left hand is holding onto the bloody stump of her right. Her clothing, faded, is stained with blood. Millicent: Ah...ahh...
Morrowe: Surely these cretins did this to the fair maiden! Anastasia: How on earth does that make any sense!
Anastasia: Why would they keep her alive? Morrowe: Because...because they prefer flesh the fresher!
Millicent: Ngh...
Millicent: Who's there?... She struggles to lift her head up.
Succumbing to the pain, she gives up. Millicent: It matters not. Morrowe, bending down: Madam, let me help you.
Millicent summons the energy to bat Morrowe away. Millicent: Get away from me! Millicent: If you are wise, you will leave, immediately.
Millicent: My flesh writhes with scarlet rot. Millicent: It is a curse. Not to be meddled with by man.
Morrowe tries to press forward, but Anastasia pushes him back. Anastasia: Hold. Anastasia: What the girl says, if true, is very serious.
Anastasia: Her flesh will rot and be covered in pustules, Anastasia: and if you get too close, so will yours.
Morrowe: What prattle. She looks fine to me. Morrowe: Which makes it even more urgent to get her a cure.
Morrowe: What kind of man am I, to sit by and do nothing?
A Kindred of Rot taps Morrowe on the shoulder.
Morrowe slaps their hand away. Morrowe: Get off me! You did this!
The Kindred of Rot, clearly concerned for Millicent, wears a look of vulnerability. Morrowe: ... Morrowe: Go and make your point.
The Kindred of Rot scratches their head.
They pull Morrowe by the arm. Morrowe: Where are you...
The Tarnished, outside of the church, see Morrowe being pulled. Reane: What is going on in there...
The Kindred of Rot takes Morrowe to the cliffside.
The Kindred of Rot points to the great gate to Sellia. Morrowe: The gate... Are you saying something's at that gate?
The Kindred of Rot rapidly shakes their head.
They point rigorously downward.
Morrowe: Something at the foot of the gate?
The Kindred of Rot vigorously shakes their head up and down.
Morrowe looks down hesitantly. Morrowe: ... Morrowe: Why don't you go?
The Kindred of Rot stares at him.
Without an ability to explain in further detail, they shrug.
Morrowe: That's going to be a long trip. Morrowe: ...
Morrowe touches the Kindred of Rot's...shoulder? Morrowe: Thanks. He leaves.
The Kindred of Rot "smiles", happy.
Morrowe returns to the Tarnished. The Kindred of Rot relent, now seeing their intentions are (better) communicated. Reane: What is it? Reane: Morrowe?
Morrowe: You're heading to the southern end of the lake, yes? Morrowe: Good. I'll be stopping at that gate.
Reane: I don't understand. Reane: Why? Reane: And why are you so cryptic?
Morrowe: I have a duty to attend to.
Reane: You didn't have any before we left. Reane: What, did it fall from the sky? Morrowe: Yes. Reane: You're being absurd. Morrowe: Not at all. Reane: Won't you explain what's going on? Morrowe: I shan't.
Reane: Are you trying to shoulder some burden alone? Morrowe: No. Reane: Liar.
Rhys: It doesn't matter. Rhys: We have to pass by the gate anyway. Rhys: I think.
Reane: Of course it matters! Morrowe: Reane.
Morrowe: We were brought here as warriors, yes? Morrowe: So we have our own path. Reane: ...
Reane: What a bunch of bullsh- Rhys: Reane.
Rhys: I'm tired. Rhys: You're tired. Rhys: I want to get out of here.
Rhys: I don't want to stay a single second longer in these lands. Rhys: Let's move, and figure it all out later.
Reane: ... Reane: Fine.
The Tarnished start marching, with the Kindred of Rot accompanying them. Anastasia catches up with Reane. Reane: What's up? Anastasia: He has it in his heart to save some girl.
Reane moves on ahead, not batting an eye. Reane: Oh. Reane: Figures.
The Tarnished wind down the cliff. In the distance, they see another gate leading to Sellia.
The Kindred of Rot follow closely behind. They have a scheme.
They suddenly grab the Tarnished, throwing them on their backs. Reane: Hey!
The Kindred of Rot, with the Tarnished, run to the edge of the cliff.
With their many arms, they climb down the cliff.
A magic sigil appears above the path they had been walking.
A giant iron ball falls from the sigil.
The ball thunders down the path.
Reane, on the back of a Kindred of Rot: What the hell?... The ball thunders below their eyes, as the Kindred of Rot wait on the cliff.
Rhys: Ah. I bet that was a defensive measure, for Sellia below. Reane: A giant ball?
Rhys: It's a good defense. Rhys: Favored by scholars. Rhys: It inconvenienced me once.
The Tarnished are presented to the magical seal at the gate of Sellia. Rhys: Well. Wonderful. Rhys: I don't know why scholars love seals so much.
Morrowe is climbing the arches of the gate above. Reane, looking up: Hey! What are you doing?
Morrowe: Climbing down! Morrowe: Bye! Morrowe descends, climbing down the gate.
Reane: Feckless fool! Rhys: Well, it's an idea. Rhys, to the Kindred of Rot: Can you...umm, help us?
The Kindred of Rot help the Tarnished scale down the wall. Morrowe is at the bottom, surveying the town.
The ruins of Sellia lie before the Tarnished. Morrowe is beside a sprouting Minor Erdtree. The town, composed of several towers with beacons, is crumbling, with large roots winding and piercing through the architecture. In the background is the gate the Kindred of Rot pointed to, looming ominously. The Swamp of Aeonia can be seen on the right side of the panel. Morrowe: Hmm. Gloomy place.
Morrowe jumps down, from the staircase he had landed on. Reane: Morrowe! Slow down!
Morrowe is carelessly looking around the homes. Morrowe: Oh come on, what can anyone find in this place? A spirit of a sorceror manifests behind Morrowe.
The sorceror waves their glintstone staff, shooting a shard of glintstone at Morrowe.
Morrowe weaves through the shard and stabs the spirit straight through.
The spirit dissipates into ash.
Morrowe: Clingy bastards. Reane: Old mages of Sellia?
Reane: What would they be defending, in death?
The Tarnished are surrounded by the spirits of sorcerors. Reane: Oh.
The sorcerors fire glintstone at the Tarnished; they duck and dodge underneath the arches of the town.
Rhys waves his glintstone staff, firing glintstone shards at the spirits, dispelling some.
Flying above the Tarnished are tiny dolls with wings and avian-shaped masks; these are the Avionette Soldiers.
They drop firebombs on the Tarnished; Rhys dodges.
Rhys fires back at them, but the sorceror spirits are preparing another volley of shards.
The shards come; Rhys dodges again.
Rhys peeks out of cover, but he is forced back down, from more projectiles coming.
The hail of shards and bombs is so thick they can't leave their fortifications. Rhys: I assume no one else has any projectile weapons? Morrowe: Aye.
The sorcerors are intent on the Tarnished, surrounding them. However, they do not notice the Kindred of Rot, in formation behind them.
The Kindred of Rot raise their arms; from the sides of their bodies they eject Pest Threads, which wind in the air and pierce through the spirits, reducing them into ash. The threads land at the edges of the fortifications the Tarnished hide behind, alarming them.
Reane peeks above cover, overwhelmed by the sudden demonstration of firepower. Reane: Uhh...
The Kindred of Rot "smile", giving the Tarnished a thumbs-up.
Reane, giving a thumbs-up: Heh heh heh...
The Tarnished and the Kindred of Rot pass beneath Sellia's smaller gate.
Morrowe looks around him, in the area in-between the fortified, militant gate in the south and the formal, decorated gate leading to Sellia. Morrowe: Now, what were this shrimp-heads getting at -
A shadow falls over Morrowe; hot breath descends to his face.
A Giant Dog towers over Morrowe, salivating. The Tarnished brandish their weapons.
Gowry, offscreen: Maurice! Sit!
The Dog sits, straightening its back before Morrowe.
Morrowe: Well. Morrowe: I think that's my guy. Morrowe: See you, folks.
Reane looks to Rhys. It is dusk. Rhys: Reane, Rhys: I have the medallion. Rhys: This is the same many Tarnished depend on, to see the Erdtree.
Rhys: Further, a great many brave Tarnished died today to get it. Rhys: Their surviving comrades want to live, so as not to squander their memory.
Rhys: The best and most logical course of action is to get out of here. Rhys: As soon as possible and as safely as possible.
Reane: ... Reane: Morrowe, have you considered that girl is not who you think she is?
Morrowe: What are you insinuating? Reane: She's a trap. Reane: Come on, you haven't thought of this?
Morrowe: Why would those shrimp-people help us, then? Reane: To put your guard down. Morrowe: Come on! Reane: How can you be so dense?
Morrowe: Are you suggesting - Reane: - that they might shoot us down the moment we leave that gate? Yes.
Reane: I know nothing about their species. Reane: I know nothing about their beliefs. Reane: I don't know anything. This is how tenuous the situation is.
Morrowe: You don't trust anyone? Reane: ... Reane: In my state? No.
Morrowe leaves. Morrowe: Well.
Reane looks at Rhys. Rhys sighs. Rhys: 'Tis what it is.
Rhys moves on. Rhys: Let's go.
Latenna is carried by another Tarnished. Latenna: ...I'm going to press forward, as well. Latenna: I can't do much else, anyway.
Reane looks toward Morrowe, in confusion.
Morrowe is ascending the hill to Gowry's shack. Gowry, offscreen: I'd hoped to ask a favour, when one of your ilk came along.
Full reveal of Gowry. He is a sickly, pale man, with black dots over his face. In his dingy shack, in the middle of nowhere, he sits in an old chair, largely paralyzed. This is why he sits in such an awkward position, his palms always raised upwards to the sky. Gowry: A strapping young Tarnished, able to cross the scarlet swamp of Aeonia.
Morrowe: I didn't cross the swamp. Morrowe: I came down there. Morrowe is pointing above the cliffs, vaguely.
Gowry: There?... Gowry: What a convoluted journey. Morrowe: I'm not going to tell it all. Morrowe: How do I cure the girl up there?
Reane: First off, what's her name? Morrowe: Reane!
Morrowe is trying to push Reane away; Reane resists. Morrowe: Go with the band of Tarnished! Reane: What, so Gideon's men can kill me? Morrowe: Who's Gideon? Reane: You're so dense!
Latenna, offscreen: Hold on! I'm joining too!
Latenna is crawling up the slope to the hill. Latenna: I...huff... Latenna: I suppose I owe...huff... Latenna: ...Morrowe a bit of a debt...
Morrowe, massaging his temples: I don't know if I have to beat you both black and bloody before you'll see sense. Reane, jeering: As for you, same.
Reane: I can't speak for Latenna, but I won't go far in the Lands Between without a knight. Morrowe: I'm your vassal now?
Morrowe: You're hopeless! Gowry: Millicent. Her name is Millicent.
Gowry: I don't know what your histories are, but I'll take any help I can get. Gowry: This is how long I've waited.
Reane: OK, now that I have a speaking person before me, I'd like to know what's going on. Reane: How long is "long"? Gowry: Ah. I forgot how ignorant the Tarnished are.
Gowry: I apologize if I'm reiterating things you already know: Gowry: Millicent was born in the Lands Between. Gowry: She has a sickness, called Scarlet Rot, that is eating her flesh. Gowry: I'm her adopted father. Please help her.
Reane: Who are those... Reane waves vaguely at the Kindred of Rot, who are not accompanying the Tarnished. Reane: ...things?
Gowry: Oh. Gowry: They're...people, transformed by the rot. Gowry: Like Millicent, they were born in the swamp, so they seek her well-being.
Reane: That makes no sense. Reane: Did Millicent get her disease from the swamp? Reane: How can anything be born in that benighted place?
Gowry: Hmm. How do I put it. Gowry: Children are born with coughs? Gowry: Babies are born in the slums?
Reane: Aye. Reane: But neither of these things, so you say, eat flesh.
Gowry: You are thinking too concretely. Gowry: In the general, people are molded by adversity. Gowry: Millicent, and her kindred, were born in it.
Gowry: Those who are born in adversity - are they not destined to be great? Reane: Your description defies reality -
Reane: Oh. Gowry: Exactly. You see it.
Gowry: Millicent was born in the realm of the gods - Gowry: where all that is impossible, is possible.
Reane: The madness, of this place living in the abstract. Gowry: Madness breeds opportunity.
Gowry: Imagine - if a child like Millicent is able to survive the Scarlet Rot, Gowry: what, then, will her descendants be capable of?
Reane: ... Reane, sensing Gowry has a hidden motive in this, refrains from speaking. Morrowe: Spare me your weird thoughts. Morrowe: How do we cure her? Gowry: For this, you are to find a certain needle.
The swamp of Aeonia, festering with rot. Ensconced in it is Commander O'Neil. Gowry: A needle, of unalloyed gold, is in the deep scarlet swamp of Aeonia. Gowry: It is currently in the hands of a warrior - not a Tarnished. Gowry: No, the needle to cure Millicent is in the hands of an ancient warrior, from the time of the Shattering, who fought alongside Malenia.
Gowry: You came from Sellia? Gowry: To the west is a staircase, leading to the shore around the swamp. Gowry: Follow this shore, and you will find this man.
Anastasia: Got it. Let's go. Morrowe looks at Anastasia in bewilderment, as she has taken his line. Morrowe: ...
Anastasia: I mean, it sounds fun. Morrowe is so annoyed he moves on. Latenna follows him, riding Maurice. She, simply, has a way with animals.
Reane, lingering behind: There's something you're not telling us. Gowry: In due time.
Gowry: Revelation is rare. Belief comes slowly. Gowry: I'm an honest man. I'll reveal all to you when you have the buds of belief.
Morrowe, offscreen: Reane! Come on! Reane: Aye, aye.
The group enter Sellia again, skulking on the westward side of the town to avoid ambush by the sorceror spirits.
They descend the staircase Gowry spoke of.
Before them is the swamp. Now they have a full view of it. They can see the geysers of rot, the ruins in the distance, the fungi growing from the rot, and the dancing Aeonian butterflies. The swamp emits a fog that reeks, and veils the rest of Caelid. The waters themselves are dark and scarlet, the color of infected blood, promising to devour any of its victims whole. Morrowe: Awful smell.
The Tarnished follow the shore, surveying the ruins of lakeside homes around them.
They climb over a giant tree trunk of an obstacle; they land on the hill of mushrooms, looking below it.
Commander O'Neil waits below.