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"So, the great Bishop himself is down behind this very door?"
"Yup."
"What's the plan for when we get to him?"
"One of two things happens: Havel the Rock Johnson is hollow and will attack the both of us on sight, in which case, we have no choice but to kill him."
Oscar swallows nervously at the thought.
"Or, the guy has some tiny bit of his mind left, and we can at the least, ask for his ring."
"Are you sure we have to do this now?"
"If we don't do it now, we'll have to do it later. Plus, if he does have any sanity left, it surely wouldn't be there if we were to come back later."
While they were talking, Baker was working on lock-picking the door to meet the good bishop, his chain mail sleeve clinking softly as he did so.
"And, done." Baker sighed. "Let's rock..."
The two warriors advanced down the stairs, baker holding his mace in two hands, and Oscar holding his arming sword by the blade. As they trudged down the stairs, fear rose and rose within them as they approached the bottom. They see a glimpse of someone in stone plate armor, and when they get to the bottom...
"Holy shi-!"
... The man plummeted to the floor, making both men jump a little. Baker, knowing that death didn't mean much in this world, slowly advanced, and got down on a knee beside the stone-armor clad man.
"H-Havel?"
Havel groaned, moving his head to the side to get a good look at the intruders.
"Who... You?"
He was very clearly struggling with his words, as if he hadn't used them in a long while. Glad that the rock wasn't hostile, Baker responded.
"My name is Marshall. Will you be alright?"
"I'll... Live... Just... Tired... From Standing... In... Armor... Need... Rest..."
"A-are you sure? You seem hurt, surely we could help you?"
"Don't... need he-eaaaaagh!"
As Havel attempted to stand, he instantly collapsed back down, feeling crushed.
"Oscar! Get your candy ass down here and help me get his armor off!"
Baker was already tugging at his helmet, and after a little elbow grease, it slid off, revealing a man with very chiseled features and a receding line of grey hair. It took several minutes, but eventually they managed to strip Havel down to his greaves. Oscar didn't seem to mind, but Baker really couldn't bear to look at another man's bulge.
"Oscar... Carry him to the bonfire. Whatever you do, don't take off his ring. I'll be right there with his armor, I just need to snag something."
Nodding, Oscar slung Havel over his shoulder and made his way back to the bonfire. Sighing, Baker put Havel's armor in his bag, and began going to work on another door.

Oscar sighed as he lay Havel down next to the bonfire, sitting opposite to the good bishop as he began to remove his helmet, clearly tired of wearing it. He took a good, fresh breath of crisp, Lordran air. His hair was neatly trimmed, his eyes were blue as the sky. He himself was young, perhaps 27 tops.
That Marshall... He may be a little odd, speak with a dialect most strange, and say very bizarre things... But he is sane. He seems to know what he's talking about, and he knows things no normal person should... I don't know what to believe. He's very likely younger than me, yet he very clearly seems to have dealt with a lot... Granted, I also have had to deal with a lot at a young age, mainly involving shoveling the local cow's waste, but even then, he carries himself in a way that rivals most average workers, is humble as a duelist, and fights like a true warrior, all while carrying the sense of humor a Jester would, if not a little vulgar... I don't know what to think of this fellow.

His gaze drifts to Havel, who was unconscious.
Regardless of my opinions on him, the man has done things no normal man would think of doing, then live to tell the tale. Befriend bishop Havel! If someone other than him brought this idea up to me, I'd deem them out of their gourd! Oscar continued thinking to himself, not noticing the sound of clanking metal plates and chain mail until a fully armored individual sat at the bonfire, making Oscar startle a little. The arrival was fully clad in armor that resembled one of the lower rank knights of Astora, the helmet only having two gaps rather than a line for vision, and the visor, while practical and protecting the lower part of the face, was a solid piece, meaning it couldn't be easy having to breathe.

As Oscar looked over the arrival, they removed the helmet, revealing it was Baker.
"I found some armor, a shield, and a ring." He gestured towards his ring finger, showing a ring with an image of a wolf engraved into it, then gestured towards a shield with the design of a chess tower. However, what Oscar was focused on was the ring.
"That ring was worn by Knight Artorias the Abysswalker! Where did you get it?!"
"I found it on a corpse far from his actual grave. My best bet is some grave robber tried to get the ring for himself, and got caught by a forest guardian."
"Must be an insane grave robber..."
"It's very likely he was damn near hollow if he was considering stealing the damn thing in the first place considering who's guarding his grave..."
"Who would that be?"
"Remember what I said about fate? It's best we keep that mentality."
"You're persistent, but I understand your reasoning. But if there's something that absolutely must be known, you'll tell me, right?"
"Of course." Baker's eyes drifted to Havel.
"How's he been holding up?"
"He hasn't regained consciousness at all... I'm worried."
"If that's the case, wait here, and keep watch of him. I can handle the Taurus demon on my own."
"Are you sure? I can help if needed!"
"No, no. I feel if Havel awakes to someone from his world, he'll react a little better. Keep watch of him, I'll be back, and, if I'm lucky, with a friend. Oh, also-"
He reached into his bag and pulled out Havel's armor.
"-here's his set if he asks for it. Though, it's likely recommended for him to not wear it for a bit. His ring may allow the use of heavy armor in an easier environment, but even then his armor is very cumbersome. Arrevaderci!"

With a smile and a wave of the hand, Baker was off, definitely feeling the weight of this new armor. It wasn't nearly as cumbersome as he thought it would be, but steel plate with chain was still steel plate with chain. The trek back to the tower felt multiplied by the weight of the armor, but Baker managed. After assaulting a titanite lizard and stuffing it's corpse in his bag, the makeshift knight's gaze shifted to the fog wall in front of him. Other than the asylum demon, who really didn't count since he was out of the fight for most of it, this would be his first real battle. Inhaling sharply, Marshall traversed the fog gate and promptly turned around, eyeballing the ladder any normal person would have missed had they moved along normally. He began climbing, and, upon reaching the top, slaughtered the two crossbowman who would shoot him in the back while fighting the bull demon.
I wonder...

He pulled out his shortbow and drew an arrow, drawing it back, taking aim. Tango spotted... Taking the shot. He released, letting the arrow fly... Fly... Fly... Splurk! Baker felt a wave of souls flow through his body after several seconds of horrible screaming from across the bridge, signaling that he just killed the Taurus demon in the most anticlimactic way. ... Tango down. I don't read Homestuck, but I'm sure I just pissed someone off who does... Shrugging, he slid down the ladder and advanced across the bridge, picking up a soul item, going down the stairs, and heading to the right, where a man stood gazing at the sun, a single red feather on top of his silver helmet...

Description
"So, the great Bishop himself is down behind this very door?"
"Yup."
"What's the plan for when we get to him?"
"One of two things happens: Havel the Rock Johnson is hollow and will attack the both of us on sight, in which case, we have no choice but to kill him."
Oscar swallows nervously at the thought.
"Or, the guy has some tiny bit of his mind left, and we can at the least, ask for his ring."
"Are you sure we have to do this now?"
"If we don't do it now, we'll have to do it later. Plus, if he does have any sanity left, it surely wouldn't be there if we were to come back later."
While they were talking, Baker was working on lock-picking the door to meet the good bishop, his chain mail sleeve clinking softly as he did so.
"And, done." Baker sighed. "Let's rock..."
The two warriors advanced down the stairs, baker holding his mace in two hands, and Oscar holding his arming sword by the blade. As they trudged down the stairs, fear rose and rose within them as they approached the bottom. They see a glimpse of someone in stone plate armor, and when they get to the bottom...
"Holy shi-!"
... The man plummeted to the floor, making both men jump a little. Baker, knowing that death didn't mean much in this world, slowly advanced, and got down on a knee beside the stone-armor clad man.
"H-Havel?"
Havel groaned, moving his head to the side to get a good look at the intruders.
"Who... You?"
He was very clearly struggling with his words, as if he hadn't used them in a long while. Glad that the rock wasn't hostile, Baker responded.
"My name is Marshall. Will you be alright?"
"I'll... Live... Just... Tired... From Standing... In... Armor... Need... Rest..."
"A-are you sure? You seem hurt, surely we could help you?"
"Don't... need he-eaaaaagh!"
As Havel attempted to stand, he instantly collapsed back down, feeling crushed.
"Oscar! Get your candy ass down here and help me get his armor off!"
Baker was already tugging at his helmet, and after a little elbow grease, it slid off, revealing a man with very chiseled features and a receding line of grey hair. It took several minutes, but eventually they managed to strip Havel down to his greaves. Oscar didn't seem to mind, but Baker really couldn't bear to look at another man's bulge.
"Oscar... Carry him to the bonfire. Whatever you do, don't take off his ring. I'll be right there with his armor, I just need to snag something."
Nodding, Oscar slung Havel over his shoulder and made his way back to the bonfire. Sighing, Baker put Havel's armor in his bag, and began going to work on another door.

Oscar sighed as he lay Havel down next to the bonfire, sitting opposite to the good bishop as he began to remove his helmet, clearly tired of wearing it. He took a good, fresh breath of crisp, Lordran air. His hair was neatly trimmed, his eyes were blue as the sky. He himself was young, perhaps 27 tops.
That Marshall... He may be a little odd, speak with a dialect most strange, and say very bizarre things... But he is sane. He seems to know what he's talking about, and he knows things no normal person should... I don't know what to believe. He's very likely younger than me, yet he very clearly seems to have dealt with a lot... Granted, I also have had to deal with a lot at a young age, mainly involving shoveling the local cow's waste, but even then, he carries himself in a way that rivals most average workers, is humble as a duelist, and fights like a true warrior, all while carrying the sense of humor a Jester would, if not a little vulgar... I don't know what to think of this fellow.

His gaze drifts to Havel, who was unconscious.
Regardless of my opinions on him, the man has done things no normal man would think of doing, then live to tell the tale. Befriend bishop Havel! If someone other than him brought this idea up to me, I'd deem them out of their gourd! Oscar continued thinking to himself, not noticing the sound of clanking metal plates and chain mail until a fully armored individual sat at the bonfire, making Oscar startle a little. The arrival was fully clad in armor that resembled one of the lower rank knights of Astora, the helmet only having two gaps rather than a line for vision, and the visor, while practical and protecting the lower part of the face, was a solid piece, meaning it couldn't be easy having to breathe.

As Oscar looked over the arrival, they removed the helmet, revealing it was Baker.
"I found some armor, a shield, and a ring." He gestured towards his ring finger, showing a ring with an image of a wolf engraved into it, then gestured towards a shield with the design of a chess tower. However, what Oscar was focused on was the ring.
"That ring was worn by Knight Artorias the Abysswalker! Where did you get it?!"
"I found it on a corpse far from his actual grave. My best bet is some grave robber tried to get the ring for himself, and got caught by a forest guardian."
"Must be an insane grave robber..."
"It's very likely he was damn near hollow if he was considering stealing the damn thing in the first place considering who's guarding his grave..."
"Who would that be?"
"Remember what I said about fate? It's best we keep that mentality."
"You're persistent, but I understand your reasoning. But if there's something that absolutely must be known, you'll tell me, right?"
"Of course." Baker's eyes drifted to Havel.
"How's he been holding up?"
"He hasn't regained consciousness at all... I'm worried."
"If that's the case, wait here, and keep watch of him. I can handle the Taurus demon on my own."
"Are you sure? I can help if needed!"
"No, no. I feel if Havel awakes to someone from his world, he'll react a little better. Keep watch of him, I'll be back, and, if I'm lucky, with a friend. Oh, also-"
He reached into his bag and pulled out Havel's armor.
"-here's his set if he asks for it. Though, it's likely recommended for him to not wear it for a bit. His ring may allow the use of heavy armor in an easier environment, but even then his armor is very cumbersome. Arrevaderci!"

With a smile and a wave of the hand, Baker was off, definitely feeling the weight of this new armor. It wasn't nearly as cumbersome as he thought it would be, but steel plate with chain was still steel plate with chain. The trek back to the tower felt multiplied by the weight of the armor, but Baker managed. After assaulting a titanite lizard and stuffing it's corpse in his bag, the makeshift knight's gaze shifted to the fog wall in front of him. Other than the asylum demon, who really didn't count since he was out of the fight for most of it, this would be his first real battle. Inhaling sharply, Marshall traversed the fog gate and promptly turned around, eyeballing the ladder any normal person would have missed had they moved along normally. He began climbing, and, upon reaching the top, slaughtered the two crossbowman who would shoot him in the back while fighting the bull demon.
I wonder...

He pulled out his shortbow and drew an arrow, drawing it back, taking aim. Tango spotted... Taking the shot. He released, letting the arrow fly... Fly... Fly... Splurk! Baker felt a wave of souls flow through his body after several seconds of horrible screaming from across the bridge, signaling that he just killed the Taurus demon in the most anticlimactic way. ... Tango down. I don't read Homestuck, but I'm sure I just pissed someone off who does... Shrugging, he slid down the ladder and advanced across the bridge, picking up a soul item, going down the stairs, and heading to the right, where a man stood gazing at the sun, a single red feather on top of his silver helmet...