Darkest Dungeon X Octopath Traveler 2 crossover fic. AKA Sarmenti witnesses the moments before Wellsgrove disaster.
TW for past suicidal thoughts, violence, some eldritch horror that’s going to happen at the end, Wingdings containing disturbing material such as death baiting (but nothing too explicit), and Sarmenti being incredibly unhinged and having some disturbing thoughts
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Contrary to popular belief, Sarmenti does take things seriously. People thought that his personality was one that takes nothing seriously but really, it’s one who took everything seriously and then broke into a million tiny glass pieces afterwards. He’s already broken enough so why not have fun with it? Why not take those pieces and throw them at his enemies? Why not take those pieces and make a horrid song?
The point is, is that Sarmenti tries to make the most of life. He’s been dealt with the worst hand and maybe he should have given up there but what’s the point in that? He still has songs to play and stories to weave and annoying little eldritch horrors to stab. Perhaps not the best life but considering he wanted to kill himself before he travelled the world he’ll say this is an improvement.
Wellsgrove is a break to him right now, at least in his neck of the woods. From what he’s heard from Barristan and Baldwin, Throné was busy preparing and about to make herself an orphan, while Hikari is about to intercept a an arms trade. Meanwhile he’s here with Partitio, watching as the man essentially revived a town in under a month.
He wouldn’t be very helpful in the world of business, so he was outside singing incomplete songs stuck in his head while people quietly tipped him.
Maybe if he was with the others he would have traded sharp words and love ballads for knives but alas. He was not with their group. No blood shall be spilt today by him.
What was surprising though was the fact that all of them were here. Usually they would all go and debate with themselves on which Travelers needed their help before going off with them. Even then, not all of them truly stayed around to help the Travelers actively. Some people, like Audrey and Boudicca, only really tagged along to see the sights. He knows those types would eventually leave at some point, but he also knows that they’re aware that it’s not a good idea to leave when you have no idea where you are.
They still helped, don’t get them wrong. Some just aren’t exactly as invested as the rest of them. He knows who’s staying for a war if you put Audrey and Barristan side-by-side.
(But then again, Audrey stayed with all of them in the Hamlet and the rickety old Wagon all that time ago. Even gave some of her spoils to those poorer folk so who knows. Maybe they were all a bit kinder than they give themselves credit for.)
The fact that all of them were here was surprising. Something that Kazan even expressed surprised in when they all insisted on traveling together.
Then there’s the fact that Damien, Tardif, and Josephine were here.
Damien was…well he was a bit of an odd ball, even by Sarmenti’s standards. He knew that flagellation was approved by the Church of the Light but he’s also pretty sure that it is not to the point of their skin peeling off and septic rot. Last he saw him, he said that he was going to travel the world to revel in this new kind of pain. Real fucking weird if you ask Sarmenti but who’s he to judge? He went and killed an entire royal court using a cursed song. At the very least though he’s polite to everyone in town, even if they found him disturbing, and thank fuck Damien has enough sense to avoid Junia lest they start stirring up old memories.
Tardif was a Bounty Hunter and well. Sarmenti supposes he wanted to get back to the business as soon as possible. The man said his farewell in Flamechurch, had a…private conversation with William, told them all that he won’t hunt bounties on them out of respect, and then left. At the very least he tried to keep contact with all of them, mostly in the form of obscure baking recipes he found. Him being here was a coincidence, one that was fueled by the simple fact that Throné’s Mother Dearest has a bounty on her but a lovely coincidence at that.
She was here, lured by the promises of wealth from Partitio’s little business venture. She said she won’t cause any trouble and that was enough for him right now. Whatever quarrel she has with them doesn’t matter to him right now. The others may disagree but if she says she wants to keep the peace, she’ll keep the peace. Besides, starting a fight with the others is bad for her business.
…Sarmenti does have to admit though, having everyone here was nice. If he closed his eyes long enough, he can pretend it’s the Hamlet. He can pretend it’s the Hamlet and they were all free of the horrors that tormented them in the Darkest Dungeon. That the people tipping him were people he’s seen every day and that the people joining in were the other Bards that wandered into the Hamlet’s horrors.
This of course means that things are going to go to shit soon. He knows this. He knows that pattern.
Sarmenti blinks and sits up.
(D-Low A-D-A-A flat-D-B flat)
Sarmenti stood up and looked around. The bards all freeze and stare at him.
“Who. Played. That tune.”
Sarmenti jerked to the left to see a violinist, bow on strings and a blank look on their face.
(It sung to him and it sung until it was drilled into his head and nothing but that cursed song remained.)
He tackled the musician onto the ground, grabbed their throat and squeezed.
Distantly, he felt someone try to pull him off of the musician. He refuses to let go and kept squeezing.
Someone roughly grabbed him and pulled him off. “Sarmenti what’s gotten into you!?”
Don’t they know? Doesn’t they know that song means death? Snuffing it out is the only way to stop it from driving another mad. He has to snuff it out. He has to silence it. He has to he has to hehastohehastohe-
“How do you know that song?” Someone said. Or was that him? His voice sounds oh so far away now. An echo in the sea of madness. “That song is dead. I killed it. I made sure it was forgotten. How do you know that song?”
The musician only stared at him, keeping the blank look on their face and offering nothing but silence.
“Answer me Light damnit!”
The musician blinks and opens their mouth.
🕈☟✡ 👎⚐ ✡⚐🕆 💧❄✋☹☹ ☹✋✞☜ 🕈☟☜☠ ❄☟☜ ☼☜💧❄ ☟✌✞☜ 👎✋☜👎
✋❄’💧 ☼🕆👎☜ ❄⚐ ☜☝☝ ❄☟☜☠ ⚐☠📬 🕈☟✡ ☠⚐❄ ☹☜❄ ✌ 💧❄☼✌✡ 💧🕈⚐☼👎 💧❄✌👌 ✡⚐🕆 ✌☹☼☜✌👎✡ ⚐☼ 👌☜❄❄☜☼ ✡☜❄📬 👎⚐ ✋❄ ✡⚐🕆☼💧☜☹☞📬
Sarmenti steps back. Several people around him start exclaiming in fear.
🕈☜☹☹ ☺☜💧❄☜☼📬 🕈☟✌❄ 🕈✋☹☹ ✡⚐🕆 👎⚐✍ ✋ ☞✋☠👎 ✡⚐🕆☼ 😐☠✋☞☜ ☹⚐⚐😐✋☠☝ ✋☠👍☼☜👎✋👌☹✡ ✋☠✞✋❄✋☠☝📬
✡⚐🕆 😐✋☹☹☜👎 👌☜☞⚐☼☜📬 ✡⚐🕆 ☺🕆💧❄ ☠☜☜👎 ❄⚐ 😐✋☹☹ ❄☟☜ ☞✋☠✌☹ 💣✌👎💣✌☠ ✋☠ ❄☟✋💧 👍✋☼👍🕆💧📬
Why can he understand it?
Why does he know what its saying?
The musician grinned and grinned and grinned. Several people are running now and oh? Is that burning? What’s burning? Was it his flesh? Is it theirs? What’s burning?
“The Iron Crown will be revived.”
The musician takes out a knife and cuts themselves open, snapping Sarmenti out of trance. He looks to the left and sees Partitio recoil back and put himself in front of everyone else.
The musician falls onto the ground unceremoniously. Everyone stared, because what the hell are you supposed to do after that.
“…Well shows over for that guy,” he said awkwardly.
Alrond and Misha looked at him in horror while Partitio’s scrivener friend gives an awkward cough. Partitio only gives him a disappointed look.
“Hm. Tough crowd. Now what are we going to do with the body?”
If anything that only makes the group more appalled. “I don’t think this is a time for jokes Sarmenti,” said Partitio.
He knows that, but what else is he going to do? Look dumbly at the body and try to explain what just happened? Yeah right. Everyone is way into shock to do that right now. If he can joke then that means things aren’t as bad as it seems to be and that seems about right for him. Worked well for Dismas and Audrey, and if anyone in their little merry band of adventurers were bothered by it then they would have told the three of them by now.
Oh wait, the rest of them. They probably are freaking out right now.
And on cue, Sarmenti sees the rest of the gang come up and oh. Oh isn’t that some of Ku’s warriors? Weren’t they supposed to be getting weapons and then being stopped from getting weapons? Hm. He supposed this little stunt went and changed some things then. No one wants to do business when the town is in disarray.
“Nothing to see here folks!” He announce, much to everyone’s horror. “Just a dead body in the middle of the street! We’ll clean it up soon!”
Dismas groans and out his head in his hands.
“What the fuck Hikari? Where did you even find this guy?” Said a Ku soldier with a bandanna tied around his head.
“Oh that’s easy fellow war criminal!” He answered. “You see Prince Hikari found us poor souls after we went and-“
A snap is heard from the ground.
The musician started to contort into itself. Its skin turning grey and bones snapping out of place.
Sarmenti took out his knife. “Get. Behind. Me.”
Muscles spasmed and grew. Bones creaked and groaned. Arms growing. Legs growing. Head contorting. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter.
(First the brain, then the lungs, then the eyes, then the hands, and then finally the body.)
(Denial, Resentment, Obsession, Ambition, Cowardice. All fought and defeated but it never is over. It’s never over. It’s never never never never over.
The musician speaks. It somehow speaks despite the distortions and it’s familiar. It’s familiar and that’s what terrifies Sarmenti.
A trumpet is heard. Someone screams in pain. He feels blood from his ears.
(Flesh upon flesh being played together. The body becoming an instrument. The body is an instrument.)
🕈☜ ☞✌✋☹☜👎 👌☜👍✌🕆💧☜ ✡⚐🕆 💣⚐✞☜👎 ⚐☠📬 ❄☟☜💧☜ 🏱☜⚐🏱☹☜ ☟✌✞☜ ☠⚐❄📬 ❄☟☜✋☼ 🕈⚐☜💧 🕈✋☹☹ ☜💣🏱⚐🕈☜☼ ❄☟☜ 👍☼⚐🕈☠📬 ☞⚐☼ 🕈☜ ✌☼☜ ✌☹🕈✌✡💧 ✌☼☜ ✌🏱✌☼❄ ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ 👍☼⚐🕈☠📬 🕈☜ 🕈✋☹☹ ☠☜✞☜☼ 👌☜ 💧☜🏱☜☼✌❄☜👎 ☠☜✞☜☼ ☠☜✞☜☼ ☠☜✞☜☼ ☠☜✞☜☼ ☠☜✞☜☼
He looks around. Several of Ku’s soldiers fall in terror. Hikari pales and starts to shake. Reynauld, Barristan, Boudica, and Missandei all look at the creature what Sarmenti can only describe as pure, utter, terror.
The Scrivener took a step back. “No. Nonononono. I left you.” She took a shuddering breath in. “I left you.”
If Sarmenti closes his eyes, he can hear the Ancestor the Heir the Academic the Scholar someone tell him what it was.
(“Gaze upon the Shackled Resignation. The thing that prolongs wars and drives men to hopelessness.”)
A being of bones and flesh, all contorted and twisted in ways one can only imagine. Restraining itself using their its innards and choking itself in its misery. It could probably fix itself if it really looked and tried to untangle the spilling chain-like innards.
Sarmenti takes a deep breath.
(There is always an encore. And unfortunately for him, the people always crave for more.)
(Well. The cosmic beings that like to end the world crave for more.)
He looks behind him and meets Dismas’ eyes. He holds up three fingers. The man nods.
(The thing about encores is that it really does depend on whether the performer wants to perform a bit more or wants to wrap it up.)
(Sarmenti wants to fucking wrap all of this up.)
The being screams and stumbles back. Sarmenti does the one thing he can think of.
He grabs Partitio, pulls him forward and gets them to run.
I love your writing style! You'll have to translate the wingdings for me though.
