Chapter 5: Divided

When Ornstein finally came to his senses, he found himself in a cramped cave overladen with twisting roots. Were he still his old self, and not in a human form, he likely wouldn't have fit. But that was beside the point, the fact that he was still alive after being pulled into this place by that monstrous hand, if it could even be called as such, was a miracle in of itself. Standing up, Ornstein looked around and found that he was, as he had suspected, entirely alone. Smough had not been pulled through the vortex alongside him, a thought both comforting and worrying.

"He's strong, he can take care of himself. Well, as long as he doesn't do something too drastic while I look for a way back, that is." The Dragonslayer thought aloud.

Sighing in resignation, Ornstein decided that he wouldn't be doing himself or his likely worried companion any favors by just standing around, and began to walk towards the entrance of the cave. Once there, the familiar sight of a white wall of fog met him. Having been behind such a barrier innumerable times himself, whatever lay on the other side probably wasn't very friendly. Tightening his grip on his spear, the Ornstein stepped through the fog. Immediately, a grotesque beast seated within a large circular pond roared at him in anger. The creature was a nightmarish chimera that held the body of a white lion, large ram like horns, four angelic wings, the hind quarters of some hairless beast, and the tail of a scorpion. Through wrathful red eyes the chimera glared at the intruder before ramming straight for him. Surprised at the beast's speed, Ornstein only barely managed to evade it, retaliating with a swift stab at the chimera's side. Growling in pain, the beast took to the air, turning mid-flight to expel a ball of electricity from its mouth. Though Ornstein dodged the initial ball, shockwaves from the blast traveled along the pond's surface, surging into him. But of course, to wield lightning against the captain of Gwyn's knights was utter folly, and it did little more than give a slight jolt.

"Lightning? Foolishness. The simplest of clerics could conjure up something like that. Allow me to show you true lightning!" Ornstein growled.

To follow through on his words, the Dragonslayer channeled his own golden electricity into his spear as the chimera made to charge him again. Unaware of what was coming, the beast simply charged forward, seeing its horns about to strike the intruder. But instead of metal being crushed and tossed about, there came only the sound of steel piercing flesh, followed by a crack of thunder as lightning blasted into the chimera's brain, finishing off whatever the spear tip running through it had missed. The beast fell dead where it stood, allowing Ornstein to retrieve his weapon from the mound of singed fur it had been planted in. Moments later, the chimera dissolved away, and so too did the fog covering the exit to the pond. Pressing onward, Ornstein soon found himself in a clearing dotted by odd statues, perhaps a sanctuary of sorts. There was nothing of great significance in sight, except perhaps for what appeared to be a sentient mushroom with eyes, staring blankly at him from its seat on the wall of the sanctuary. It did not appear to be hostile, nor capable of leaving its spot for that matter. Since it wouldn't harm him, Ornstein chose to leave the strange being be, and instead pressed onward. Out of the other end of the sanctuary, he found himself once again facing a deep wood, eerily familiar.

"Strange…it almost feels as if I were here before." He muttered to himself.

As if to further prove his words, upon walking onto a bridge connecting the wood to the sanctuary he looked out at the distance. Down below sat a basin nearly identical to that in which he and Smough slew the hydra, the only difference being the time of day. Furthermore, upon looking up and over the wood ahead of him Ornstein could just barely make out what looked like the outer walls of Anor Londo, seated high above an immense mountain.

"Where in the world am I?"

The Dragonslayer's thoughts were interrupted by the rapid crunching of leaves and twigs nearby, signaling an approach. Turning, he caught sight of a pair of what looked to be living twigs adorned in yellow gardening attire, complete with the pitchforks they brandished as makeshift weapons. Clumsily, the pair of gardeners poked and leapt at Ornstein, hoping to skewer him. He deflected one and evaded the other, then swung at the both of them. The gardeners went stock still for a moment, then both fell in half. Whatever held these strange creatures were, they were clearly not meant to be used for battle. Stepping over the gardeners, Ornstein continued into the wood, quickly spotting more of the living twigs tending the soil, some even wielding oversized shears and clipping away at trees. What gave him pause, however, was that every so often the gardeners were accompanied by a behemoth that appeared to be comprised entirely of stone, always carrying a likewise massive axe that looked hewn from the earth, much like the inhabitants. Getting too close to one, Ornstein had discovered they were just as swift as they were large, narrowly dodging their savage and fast blows. To most, a spear would have made for poor choice against stone, but for the Dragonslayer who had peeled apart stone scales countless times with his weapon, it was an easier task, though not without difficulty. Finally bringing the behemoth down, Ornstein continued to make his way through the wood, finding disturbing dark blue growths creeping up from crevices as he went, the strange substance seemingly increasing in intensity at what looked to be a coliseum a short distance away from the wood.

"Well, in any case, that will make a good place to rest."

His decision reached, Ornstein searched for a way toward the coliseum, eventually finding it in the form of an enchanted platform that took him to a lower level of the wood. A brisk walk over to the coliseum, and once again he was presented with a fog barrier. At this point, Ornstein wondered if such things were created to hold the beings behind them captive, instead of just serving as gateway into a harsh trial. Regardless of the fog barrier's purpose, it was standing between the Dragonsalyer and a much needed rest. Bracing himself for whatever stood behind the barrier, he stepped forward.

But nothing could have prepared him for what lay beyond.

"Ar…Artorias…?!"

Separated from his only friend, Smough sat for a time in the flooded cave. He hoped that at any moment, the vortex would open again and bring back the Dragonslayer, or at the very least allow the Executioner to follow. Hours passed as he waited, silently praying that he would see his companion again soon. Admittedly, Smough was lost without Ornstein's guidance, capable only of rampaging indiscriminately, smashing about all that moved. But such behavior was unbecoming, and surely even as traitors to Lord Gwyn his lost companion would frown upon him acting in such a manner.

"He also probably would not want me to simply lay here like a love struck maiden awaiting her champion's return." The Executioner mused with a heavy sigh.

If the vortex were going to reopen, then it probably would have by now. As much as it pained him, Smough knew that Ornstein was a fully capable warrior that could hold his own in the worst of situations. Why else would he have been made the captain of the four knights? He trusted that in good time, the Dragonslayer would find his way back. Until then, Smough would do what he could to make their quest easier. Artorias's grave had to be in this dark wood somewhere, else they would not have come. His mind made up, he picked up his giant hammer and began marching up a steep slope leading deeper into the wood. Not long after reaching the top of the hill, the path split into two different directions. A glance upward showed that left likely led to a large building, an exit from the woods. While it was good to remember for a later occasion, that left right as the only forward. Scarcely more than 10 paces onto the path, and an obstacle in the form of seemed to be a sentient bush with arms and legs. The strange shrub ran towards him, drew back its spindly arms, then flung them toward Smough, extending them into vines to lash him. It wasn't very effective, when the target of the lashings was covered head to toe in thick golden armor made to stand up to beasts of far greater nature. The ultimately pointless encounter ended with a very flat bush being trampled on as an obese armored man walked onward, scraping the excess greenery from his hammer.

"From specters of the dead to weeds…how dull." He groaned.

Further on, more of the shrubs attempted to halt him, and were all crushed just as thoroughly as the first one. Eventually, something not trying to kill him caused the Executioner to stop. Smough found himself at a massive door set before a passage further into the wood, the brick wall beside it crumbling off the nearby cliff side. It appeared to be sealed away by a magic of some sort, for it would not budge even when he tried to smash the thing down with his hammer. If something like this was here, then Artorias's grave must not be far off. But Smough knew little of magic, and cared naught for it. As his frustration towards the seemingly impassable door grew, he noticed that many of the bricks to the inland side of the door were loose, and didn't look to be protected by the same magic as the door itself. Calming himself, Smough then did what he did best, and brought down his giant hammer with all his might on the weathered bricks. As expected, the structure was blown to bits, even making enough of a dent in the hillside for one as large as himself to pass through, magic door be damned. Casually stepping on past his biggest obstacle yet, a few steps into new territory summoned forth yet another new obstacle. Though faint, the Executioner could make out the shapes of other humans dashing about the trees, rapidly closing in on him. Their garb and armaments were varied, among them a knight, a sorcerer, a rogue, a highwayman, and even a cleric started to circle towards him. Seeing this only caused Smough to smile just like the visage upon his helm.

Finally, a real fight.

A/N: Bit shorter this time, I know, but I wanted to split this up instead of focusing exclusively on just one character. Hope you enjoyed! Till next time! Dark Novelist out.