Dark Souls: Age of Kindlers
Today felt different.
Roaming back to Firelink Shrine, I saw a new undead. He was curious, Using an odd sorcery, but there was some sort of... mass around him. I felt obliged to help him take out the fatty he had to take on, so with a backstab to the fatty, I left the sorcerer to the carcass without a word. I continue forward, past the Blade clan's area in the lower Undead Town area, I thought of how few bonfires are left. There has to be a way to make more of them... I think to myself. I'll have to check that out. The Ancient Duke's Archives ought to help. They have so many books, so I can look for something about bonfire making.
Last edited by Dragonite777; 02-01-2013 at 09:08 PM.
And then I ate the bowl!
The figure huddled and shivered against the grey stone walls of the alley way. Lanky limbs, looking dessicated and malnourished. If it were another time, and another place, a person could almost mistake this being for a beggar who is on their last legs. A crazy beggar perhaps judging by the babbling that the figure lets out on occasion. Things like seeing the door to eternity, or the last breath of life slipping from his body. Having gone quite mad perhaps. But this place and time is nothing like it once was. Long gone are the days of Boleteria and the Fog of Madness. Here now is the time of the Dark Sign and the Undead. And this poor disgusting creature is an Undead, one that has Hollowed out, lost it's mind because of far too many deaths. Able to return from death until it's just not possible anymore, their Humanity wasted away.
So it has happened with this poor thing. So far gone it does not hear the heavy foot falls of something or someone approaching it. The sound of armor clanking and ringing. Heavy armor, designed to stand up to the claws and jaws of dragons. A shield designed to hold up against Dragonfire, and a massive halberd, designed to bite into and cleave the stony scales of dragons. The legends of the Loyal Knights of Gwyn are known to many. The silver kind are famous for guarding now fallen Anor Londo. But few stories are told of the Black Knights. Those knights that marched with Gwyn to the Kiln of the First Flame. And in doing so burned by the incredible heat of the fire and embers. This is one of those Black Knights.
With a step akin to a predator stalking prey the Black Knight picks it's way through the rubble of the upper Undead Burg, a place he and several of his comrades had patrolled for centuries. And now he returns to cleanse it, in the name of his lord Gwyn of the Sun.
Jardo Valiant makes his way through the rubble and debris of the burg, moving slowly towards the Undead thing in the corner of the alley. His voice booms so any nearby can hear him, "Unclean Hollow. You sit here, sullying the very air that was once breathed by his eminence Lord Gwyn of the Flame. You shall be sent to a proper place." He continues to stalk towards the Undead. The undead staring at him with renewed fear.