The Watchdogs of Farron; an infamous legion of undead whom have dedicated themselves to the Wolf, and the eradication of the abyss.
It is a task that even the greatest have failed to accomplish, leaving the once legendary knight of Gwyn, Artorias, corrupted, mad with the abyss that tainted his very being, ironic, that the very thing he spent his life aiming to destroy, in turn, will be his destruction.
Where his sword fell though, a legion picked it up and carried on with his quest; in Farron keep, deep below the great city of Lordan do the watchers wait, for that hint of a taint; for that smallest piece of evidence that suggests the abyss existing in any place other than Majula.
For if it does, most of Lordan soon becomes aware of this, as the gates in farron keep open, a mass of torches light a solitary path, and the boots of the legion go on the march.
They are feared and equally they are respected, for their diligence, their strength as individuals and as a group - but above all; the blatant disregard for anything but the destruction of the Abyss and its unending corruption.

Today, a number of new recruits are expected to make their way to the fort; there they will pledge their souls to the Watchdogs of Farron, and in turn the Watchers of the abyss.
At that mmoent, all past alliances with any other covenant or band will be nullified; their devotion must exist purely for the Legion; if not straight away, then eventually.

Awaiting them, was none other than the current Commander of the legion, a role that was once held by the mighty Farron himself; Dravon Raventii, a fiercely loyal and exceptionally powerful Legionnaire - his blows are as brutal as his demands upon those that serve him - his only rule is that the taint must bee crushed, by all means necessary.
Who, today would offer their blades to him, and in turn, what little humanity they have, for this dark but noble cause.

Some joined the Legion for vengeance; the Abyss had taken everything they loved. Some joined for glory; this legendary army was as well known as their founder. And then there were some who joined for whimsy, who weren’t so much loyal to the legion as they were bored and looking for something to do with their lives. Rekka would be one of those people. Oh sure, he too drank of the wolve’s blood and swore and oath to serve the Legion and fight the abyss, renouncing all his previous covenants… But he did that too when he joined the Chaos Servants, so long ago. He was certain that should the opportunity present itself he would do so again.

Of course Rekka wasn’t so foolish to say this outloud. But his snide smirk and laidback attitude spoke much about his personality, and it shouldn’t be hard to guess he didn’t care much for “oaths”. The legion needed strong arms to fight their battles, and that’s what Rekka would give them. His loyalty, his faith, his word, these meant nothing. Only his axe mattered. So Rekka stood in the Farron Keep courtyard, where he had been for some time now. He had seen the legion train their warriors and Rekka even procured himself one of their torches. He showed off his proficiency with their weapons, utilizing his signature fire breathing to weave patterns and flames in ways unexpected.

In turn, Rekka was fairly impressed with the legion’s odd swordsmanship. Utilizing a great amount of strength and acrobatics, they flipped and spun around the battlefield, stopping only to parry a strike or take a moment to breath. Truly, these were some good warriors. But the more Rekka watched, the more he figured out their flaws and weaknesses. Certainly they were powerful and confusing fighters, but once you got rid of the confusing part they become more predictable. Still strong fighters, but Rekka could deal with strong fighters.

Aside from watching the Legion train, Rekka didn’t do much else. He had himself a few sticks and a bag of feathers. He also had a few stones he gathered during his walk around as well, and given some time, Rekka could craft himself some simple stone-tipped arrows. The Legion may favor their big swords or fire, but Rekka made due with what he could get. Though if he could find some of their charcoal resins, then he could certainly offer them firepower. As he carved some arrows, he wondered who the new recruits would be. The Legion had their numbers bolstered everyday, so he wouldn’t be surprised if a hundred undead show up. Of course he also imagined that being an Abyss Watcher was grueling work, and only those with both the skill in arms and the will of iron could stay. He imagined that if a hundred join, only ten would make it. Rekka wondered if any women would join, and his mind was filled with perverted thoughts.

Before anyone would notice him leering he quickly composed himself. If he intended to court women, then he would need to keep a stoic, yet emotional exterior. To be relaxed in the face of imminent danger but not so careless as to be distracted. So as he fletched arrows, Rekka whistled. He wasn’t really sure of the tune, but it felt familiar, almost appropriate. He made a note that he should remember this tune for later. Maybe if he could find someone with a pleasant voice, he could make this into a song.

“Yeah, a song… That’d be nice.”

If there's one thing that Kaliyah learned as a Spook, it's that you get the first impressions of your target before they get yours. Facing off against an opponent without knowing what they're capable of is an easy way to get yourself trapped, as anything as small as a dagger could prove to be your downfall if you don't know about it. Hence why Kaliyah had infiltrated the Farron Keep. Well, not quite infiltrate. That would imply she was intruding. No, she simply made sure to keep a low profile, blending in with the other acolytes and servants as if she's suppose to be there, yet beneath notice. Many people would dismiss insects as being weak and lowly, but Kaliyah knew all too well what sort of dangers mere insects could bring. Being such small creatures allowed them to deliver their poisons to even the strongest of giants.

AS for why Kaliyah insisted on such subterfuge, it was simply habit. It wasn't as if she suspected that the Abyss Watchers were going to deny her, or try to kill her on the spot. They shouldn't be the ones to judge her sins, knowing fully well that the Abyss Watchers had spread more blood these past few days then Kaliyah had in her entire life. Some of them were even guilty. As for the girl, she watched the others from a hidden but high position. Should any hostilities occur, she could easily shoot down foes from above, or use her spell to dive onto an enemy without harming herself in the process. Worse comes to worse, someone spots her and calls Kaliyah out. She was certain that the commander or someone else of high authority would most likely do that; Kaliyah herself wasn't quite hiding herself so much as continuing to maintain a low profile. A sort of test, as it were, to see who among the new recruits could tell who does and doesn't belong. A test for Kaliyah to see who was observant and who was subservient.

This was the moment she was waiting for. This was where her first actual journey would end, and a new, better mission would begin. In the Past, all the woman ever did was kill, maim, and fight for no other reasons than to enjoy and feed herself. She was set upon by human terrors of the world, and lived through it all. Now was simply a challenge of patience. She was to wait with the other recruits that had arrived. Others had yet to arrive, but once they did, they can finally get started. They would finally be judged and see if they were worthy of taking up a position among the Watchdogs of Farron. It was a chance for the woman to find a new passion. An actual quest.

...Hm? Who is this woman? She is known as Brangwen the Estranged. A wandering challenger of warriors across the city. A duelist that doesn't take loss easily. An individual that fought and murdered her way to where she was today. She had grown bored with her life of dueling and fighting. It had not the spirit that once coursed through her. That spirit now belonged in the Watchdogs of Farron. This is where she would find a true purpose. This is where she could kill with a just blade, rather than a pitiful one. This is where she would prove that the skill and strength she gained over the years would be put to the test.

For now, however, Brangwen simply waited. The recruits were all different in personality. Some raised suspicion, some were too full of themselves, some were crazy, or old, or headstrong, or something. Everyone was so unique. Honestly, if she wasn't there for a specific reason, she'd have challenged them to duel her one at a time. But now was not the time, so she simply leaned against the wall, hood up covering her face with shadows.

Biorr stood among the other recruits and legionnaires with no other intention than waiting for the commander. He bore the legion armor like the others but what made him stand out was his sword, one of the large greatswords favored by the Berenike, and his height, towering well above most of the others. He had actually been a bit confused when he was treated as a recruit upon his return...er, arrival apparently, he had remembered having a higher rank before, it took a bit of explaining and a closer examination of his arms and armor for him to realize he had only held that rank with the Berenike, recalling some faint memories of serving with them though he couldn't quite remember why he left, not exactly anyway, besides fighting the abyss seemed a worthwhile cause...wasn't he fighting it before anyway?

Earlier statement of his intention aside, he was still looking around at the others. He noticed the woman hiding up on high watching the rest, another woman covering her face with a hood, and a man who looked...actually a little approachable honestly, relatively speaking. Not by the likes of Biorr though, not right now at least. Not that the man was looking to converse with that others anyway, seeing them all really only prompted a "odd lot, this" from him before his attention turned to fiddling with the gauntlet on his arm again...this armor was so light, he felt as if he could go flipping around with this gear, despite the large sword he wielded, he was used to his heavy armor, and he was missing his shield already too...hopefully he could get those back soon.

Groot hated wearing the bland uniform of the Legion, but he was told he had to wear it and that if he didn't he couldn't join. Luckily he was allowed to keep his weapon so that was a plus in his mind, Groot stood about a head taller than most of the other recruits while he did see a few others around his height it was the giant of a man that stood nearer to the front of the crowd of recruits that caught his attention. Groot was instantly jealous of the man, normally Groot was the tallest person but this man was taller and that had Groot in a bit of a mood. Then Groot saw the handle of the weapon the man had, he recognized it but he couldn't place where he recognized it from. Other than the giant, Groot saw nothing that interested him besides the man who stood before him and the rest of the recruits.

There was a man that could kill with just a look, and Groot was for the first time in his undeath impressed by someone other than himself. He wanted to be jealous of the man but he felt that if he tried any of his normal jealous actions towards the man he would know what true death was and he did not want that. Groot was starting to get restless, so he began to straighten his uniform, which had started to bug him because it was very uncomfortable. He couldn't say that the armor was impractical but, Groot preferred practicality that would also make him stand out he wanted so badly to be back in his old armor it was practical, comfortable, and made him stand out from the others.