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"What happened to my father...?" The innocent Reah of Thorolund asked.

"Havel... He died from ligma", Petrus of Thorolund replied.

"What is ligma...?"

"Havelook at these nuts", he coldly replied.

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"Source?" Patches asked.

"Trust me bro", Solaire replied.

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Lautrec slowly turned around, his terrified eyes meeting Solaire's, scaring the Warrior of Sunlight to the core.

"So", the Knight of Fina muttered, "you're really telling me..."

"That is not what I meant, Lautrec!" Solaire interrupted him, at the verge of tears.

"-you're telling me", he repeated, louder this time, "that a queer coded this?!"

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"See, friend", Laurentius explained to Griggs of Vinheim, "there is only one thing that truly scares me about Lost Izalith."

"Which is...?"

"Yeah, exactly."

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The table was in complete silence as the Forest Hunters had lunch. Alvina, however, hadn't touched her food. Her eyes reflected a certain skepticism that didn't go unnoticed by Shiva of the East.

"Is something the matter, Alvina...?" He asked.

"Shiva", the great white feline spoke. "As much as I adore the gastronomy from thy land of the East, thou salt ne'er convince me that a shrimp fried this rice."

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"How dare you insult Lautrec the Embraced?!" Lautrec cried, walking angrily towards Trusty Patches. "This is the last time you kick me down that pit, you filthy rat!"

"Hey, relax! I didn't mean any of that, not one bit!", he replied, intimidated by the knight in golden armour. "Besides, you're completely unharmed!"

"No, I'm not! I've blunt force trauma!"

Patches stopped for a second.

"You're telling me" he asked, "that a blunt forced your trauma?!"

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"Daddy, I've been naughty...!"

"FOR THE LAST TIME, PATCHES", replied Oswald of Carim. "IT'S FATHER, I HAVE SINNED!!"

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"Have you heard", Ornstein asked to the Nameless King, "that your dad linked the Fire...? He was pronounced dead."

The Nameless King turned his head to look at the lion knight. The lower half of his face was covered, but his eyes alone reflected the defeat in his expression.

"I can't believe I've pronounced it wrong all this time", he finally said.

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"Could you pass me the bookmark...?" Griggs of Vinheim asked his master.

"Griggs, you've been my apprentice for decades", the sorcerer Big Hat Logan said, "and you still don't know my name is Logan?!"

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"Friend, you have a serious problem verbalizing your emotions", said Petrus of Thorolund.

"Welp. Can't say I'm surprised", replied the Crestfallen Warrior.

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"...And that's how they managed to trap Havel the Rock in the watchtower in the Darkroot Basin", said the Crestfallen Warrior.

"That isn't the real Havel, friend", replied Petrus of Thorolund.

"Oh? Then who is that Havel?"

"Havelook at these nuts."

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"What a glorious battle this was!" Said Siegmeyer of Catarina. "If you are ever free to celebrate, we should grab a few drinks sometime!"

"How about 10 tomorrow?"

Siegmeyer turned to look at the Chosen Undead, his eyes wide open in surprise.

"No, that's too many!" Replied the knight of Catarina.

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"Griggs, were you able to find any good books on turtles?" Asked Big Hat Logan.

"Hardback?"

"Yes", Logan smiled. "With cute little heads."

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"Actually", said Solaire of Astora, "light travels faster than sound."

"Yeah, thats exactly why some people appear bright until you hear them speak", Patches replied, his narrowed eyes fixed on Solaire's.

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"That's it, then", Siegmeyer of Catarina decided. "I'm going to Lordran for a while. I'll be back home in July."

"Why July?" Asked his daughter Sieglinde.

Siegmeyer turned to look at his daughter, his eyes wide open at her question.

"I didn't lie!"

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André held the sword of the chosen undead, eyeing it carefully.

"It looks good to me, doesn't seem damaged at all", he said. "What would you like me to do with this blade?"

"Maybe polish?"

"Oh, my bad. Co chciałbyś, żebym zrobił z tym ostrzem?"

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"In order to become a firekeeper, we had to take away your eyesight."

"I see", replied Irina of Carim.

"Oh, then forget I said anything."

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"So, Lauren...", Griggs of Vinheim sheepishly asked, slightly blushing. "What is your idea of a perfect date?"

"DD/MM/YYY, I find other formats confusing", replied Laurentius.

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Solaire and Lautrec climbed to the roof of the Undead Parish, knowing they would need to defeat the gargoyles to proceed.

"Nervous?" Lautrec asked Solaire.

"A bit, I'm afraid", the knight of Astora replied.

"First time...?"

"Oh, no, I've been nervous before."

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"Well, good tidings", the Pardoner Oswald of Carim greeted the Chosen Undead. "How art thou?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Alright then, get out."

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It was a tense situation indeed.

"One last time", said Gravelord Nito from inside the sarcophagus, his empty eye sockets fixed on the Pinwheel before him. "And you better get this one right..."

One could not see the face (faces?) behind the Pinwheel's masks, but it was obvious that it was tired, tense and very much afraid that it wouldn't pass this test. This entire situation was not too different from a torture session to it.

"Pinwheel", Nito's voice reverberated accross the cave, as he spoke slowly, loud and clear. "How did the skeleton know it was going to rain?"

But his question was met with silence.

"Think carefully before you answer, Pinwheel."

The Pinwheel only grew more agitated at his words, trying to gather the courage to speak.

"Because... Because..." It stuttered. "Because he-he..."

"Because he what?" Nito repeated after him. "Speak, Pinwheel!"

"B-because he... watched the weather forecast?"

An uncomfortable silence ensued once more. Nito remained still for what felt like an eternity, before bringing one hand down, almost squashing the Pinwheel.

"The skeleton", the Gravelord said in a shaky voice, "knew it was going to rain... -"

"Please, I want to go home...!"

"-because he felt it on his bones!!!"

"I'M SORRY, I-I-I DIDN'T-"

"HE FELT IT ON HIS BONES, PINWHEEL!!"

"I COULDN'T HAVE KNOWN!!"

"THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU COULDN'T HAVE KNOWN?! HE FELT. IT. ON. HIS. BONES!!"

"PLEASE HAVE MERCY!!"

"HE FELT IT ON HIS B

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"Here, old man," Patches spoke, offering Oswald a plate of sweets. "Hopefully this helps my cause?"

"It might not grant thee absolution, but it is very much appreciated, Patches," Oswald replied, taking some for himself and trying one of them. "These art not bad at all! What doth one call this?"

"Oh, that's a gingerbread man."

Oswald stopped chewing for a moment and turned to look at Patches, his eyes wide. He then redirected his attention to the now headless biscuit.

"Art thou telling me," he asked, "a ginger bred this man?"

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"At last," Knight Lautrec of Carim sighed, "I’ve returned from my travels."

"Where to?" Asked the Chosen Undead.

"Ariamis."

"Ariamis?"

"Aria-miss me with that bs *proceeds to kill your Fire Keeper*"

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"What do you want, human?" Asked Queelag, readying her weapon.

"I came to see what’s cookin’," replied Laurentius nonchalantly.

"Only flame."

"That’s fire, bro."

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Chosen Undead: “I rang both Bells of Awakening. What now?”
Frampt: *unhinged screaming*
Chosen Undead: “Honestly same.”

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"Gaze upon me, human," spoke Knight Artorias. “This is my emotional support abyss.”

The Chosen Undead looked him up and down.

“It’s literally devouring your soul.

“We all cope differently.”

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“Big Hat Logan this, Big Hat Logan that," the sorcerer complained. "What these fools ignore is that my hat protects me from madness.”

Griggs rolled his eyes. "Master Logan, you’re naked in a cage ranting about dragons."

“And yet you still listen.”

"Touché.”