Why-Kindled:

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"Ya know, why theys got to call me 'Unkindled' all the time, ya know?"

It had started off so innocently. Really, it had! Don't give me that look, you weren't there!

*Ahem!*

Anyways, it had all started off innocently enough. Dahl, the most recent Unkindled One, had managed to do quite a lot in his time in the ruins of the world. Saved damsels, knights, and a goodly number of monsters as well.

In order to celebrate the newest Lord of Cinder to be put back on their throne the Firelink Shrine's denizens had decided to throw a party.

Everyone, from Andre the Blacksmith, to Anri and her companion Horace, Eygon and Irina of Carim, Sirris, Orbeck, Hawkwood, Leonhard, Picklepum, Sister Friede, Vilhem, Yorshka, the Handmaid and Fire Keeper, and of course, Siegward, life of the party.

The Undead Onion Knight from Catarina provided the group with a large cask of Siegbrau, making the party a lot more lively than they'd anticipated.

Why? Well, simply put, it turned out that there were a few light weights among the drinkers.

"An' thash why I say I should be called 'Rekindled!'" Dahl drunken complained, slamming his fist onto the stone slab being used as a table. His wrist snapped and he looked at the broken appendage dully until he began to flail about in pain.

After drinking some Estus to recover he then took a swig of Siegbrau to wash the taste of Liquid Flame from his mouth.

"I mean, ish not like I'm lacking a spark of the First Flame," he continued as if he dance of pain mere seconds ago hadn't occurred. "An' I technically can't be 'unkindled' if I have that, right? I mean, I'm a guy whosh on fire. So I have to be 'rekindled' 'cause I was set on fire to be brought back to life. It all makesh sense."

He nodded resolutely, challenging anyone to deny his wisdom.

"How much has Dahl had so far?" Sirris asked, leaning over to Siegward. The Onion Knight rolled his eyes beneath his helmet.

"Hasn't even finished his first mug! Boy's a total light weight when it comes to alcohol!"

The Knight of the Darkmoon winced at that, and stared at the Chosen One.

"Wow."

"I know right!" Andre cackled as he watched the drunken hero try to explain to Picklepum why soft and fluffy was so much better than musical and fun items.

The two were very close to getting into a brawl over the matter.

It was only thanks to Anri of Astora's intervention that the two did not descend into a punching match.

Of course, when the knightess began to weep they realized the prim and proper warrior maiden was a weepy drunk. This amused everyone watching to no end.

"You have to tell me your secrets!" Anri bawled, falling to her knees and grabbing Dahl's legs. This caused the Unkindled to trip and fall.

"Wha you need me to tell ya?" Dahl slurred, confused as to why he lay on the floor.

"Your secrets about attracting people to you! I needs it!"

"I've tried everything!" Anri continued as she wept. "Compliments, innuendos, even undressing in front of him, but he never reacts!"

"Now, now, I'm shure if ya just tell Horace ya fancy him everything will be all right," Dahl said kindly. The knight in question began to blush and turned away, even as eyes fell on him.

"But I can't do that, I'm too nervous and shy!" Anri whined drunkenly as she flailed around on the floor like an overgrown child.

"I get tongue-tied whenever I try, and it's just sho hard to talk to him!" She leaned in close and in a very loud whisper told Dahl, "His helmet is sho shexy!"

"I know, right?!" the Unkindled exclaimed. "I'm sho glad I is not the only one who think sho!"

Everyone was staring at the two babbling Undead, and at a flustered Horace. In the background Ludleth was cackling madly at the drama unfolding.

"You've gots lots of pretty women hanging off of ya, so yous gots to tells me your secret!" Anri begged.

"I haves pretty ladies?" Dahl asked stupidly.

"Yeah, you'ves gots the Fire Keeper, and Yor, um, Yol, uh, Yon, um, pretty dragon-lady, all chasing after yer 'flaming sword,'" Anri said, making an obscene gesture towards the two women who blushed bright crimson.

"And don't ya tell mes ya hasn't seen how Irina's been lookin' at yer ass!" she let out a cackle. "And we've all seen how the Dancer looks at it as well! I means, ya beat in her dat dance off to pass, and totes won so you knows ya gots 'junk in da trunk' as Orbeck would put it."

The knightess paused and took a moment to stare at the posterior in question. "It is a nice butt though. If I wasn't so dedicated to getting Horace to howl my name as I ride him I would totally get a piece of dat."

By now everyone was either roaring with laughter or looking away in sheer embarrassment. Irina was twitching silently at being called out for her wandering eyes while Eygon twitched with suppressed rage towards the Unkindled.

Horace was silently praying for anything to appear and end this insanity, while Orbeck looked annoyed at finding out Anri had been reading his private and personally written collection of poetry and songs.

Andre and Siegward were trying to support each other as they howled with laughter, Picklepum laughing along as well though it was clear the childish Crow-Woman wasn't sure what everyone found so funny and just went along with it.

Sirris was busy fanning her commander, the white clad half-dragon's face so flushed and heated she resembled a feverish, sickly lady. The Fire Keeper just had her hands in her face, wishing she didn't have her eyes so she didn't have to see everyone's leers and jeers directed at her.

Dahl blinked and looked around the room, unsure of why everyone was so mirthful. He shared a look with Anri who just shrugged.

"I dunno wats so funny," she said. Her eyes then fell on her stoic, silent companion and she staggered over, grabbing his shoulder and dragging him away.

"I is gonna show ya a good time," she said with a sultry expression. She leaned in. "We're gonna do it so hard you'll be reborn at the bonfire. Twice."

Under his helmet Horace's face went from pale to red and back to pale very quickly. He tried to escape but Drunk-Anri was a lot stronger than she looked, and the pair soon disappeared into the depths of Firelink Shrine.

The Unkindled One staggered to his feet and wobbled over to the Fire Keeper who blushed fiercely and tried to block the images that rose in her mind of the tall, handsome man carrying her off to a bed and ravishing her.

Dahl put his hands on the Fire Keeper and leaned in.

"Hey, can ya do something for me?" he asked, voice and mind addled by the potent drink.

"W-w-what is it?" she gasped, face heating up as he brought his face close to hers.

"Can ya change my title to 'Rekindled One?' And if so, do I have ta file any documents? Will there be a surcharge fee?"

The pale haired Fire Keeper stared at Dahl blankly.

"What."

Dahl opened his mouth to reply, but toppled forward, his face landing in her chest.

She squeaked indignantly at the crass interaction, but calmed down when she heard snores coming from the Chosen One.

She looked down at the man who was nestled happily in her bountiful bosom, then at the rest of the Undead who were watching with interest and varying degrees of jealousy,

"If any of you speak a word of this to him when he wakes up I will repossess all the power-ups I've given you," she threatened, and everyone hastily looked away, whistling innocently.

She sighed and looked down at the man she'd found herself growing to care for before shifting him so his head was in her lap.

A faint smile cross her lips, and she stroked his hair, her souls aching with long forgotten memories.