Naughty Snake!


Things had not gone as planned. Not at all!

The First Flame had been reignited by some selfless fool who believed in good and honor and all that crap. And somehow, despite everything they had been led to believe, the sacrifice had not perished, but in fact risen to become the first of a new pantheon of gods!

This had not been part of the plan!

Deep in the inky black of the Abyss Kaathe was busy ordering his Darkwraiths to the surface to try and block that bastard's advance into the lower reaches. The newly ascended deity had begun a crusade to cleanse the tainted regions of Lordran, and had chosen to start with New Londo.

The sunken city spewed forth its vile minions, and at first the Dark worshipping Primordial Serpent had been confident he could hold back the forces of a newly ascended god.

The Darkwraiths he commanded were the boogeymen of the world. Able to invade any region or location thanks to the Red Eye Orbs he had fashioned from the plucked eyeballs of Abyss tainted mortals, the Darkwraiths could murder anyone anywhere. They could steal the Humanity of others with but a touch, and the Curse of the Undead made them nigh immortal, even without the Abyssal ichor flowing in their veins.

And they were strong. Utterly fearless and armed with a fraction of the Abyss's might, the bone-clad knights Kaathe had gathered were more than a match for the Blades of the Darkmoon or any other champion the 'God of Peace' could bring.

At least, that's what it had first been like. But lately his forces had been driven back inch by bloody inch. Kaathe had miscalculated greatly; with the First Flame reborn the Darksign was gone, and with it the majority of the Darkwraiths powers. They no longer needed to steal Humanity to survive, and in fact many had tried to abandon the Covenant when they learned they were free.

And most importantly, all the Dark based powers the Darkwraiths had obtained were pitifully weakened now. Their Dark Hand ability was gone, and with it their Humanity stealing. They were no longer immortal, either, as the Curse of the Undead was totally lifted. Without the Darksign to resurrect the dead, their numbers dwindled with each battle.

And without the Darksign the Red Eye Orbs didn't work as well as they should have anymore. What shock and awe the Darkwraiths held over their former victims was greatly lessened, and with the God of Peace leading the charge personally into New Londo his forces had splintered and been put to the sword.

Everything was ruined!

Kaathe seethed in anger, but paused when one of his few loyal minions ran to him, blabbering nonsense. Unable to decipher the Darkwraith's words the Covenant Master rose from the Darkness to see what all the fuss was about. He froze, paralyzed as he looked over the battlefield.

For the first time in centuries, the sun had returned to New Londo.

A tall, unearthly man radiating pure light strode through the cavernous depths of the city, his aura igniting all that stood in his way. The vast piles of bodies, victims of the city's downfall, were set aflame, purified into ash. The phantoms, intangible nightmares that had guarded New Londo since it fell, exploded and faded into mist as the rays of divine energy fell upon them. The ooze monsters, born from Abyss tainted rot and mold, melted into puddle of steaming ichor and burst into flame.

Some Darkwraiths fell to their knees, weeping in pain and shame. Others tried to run. It mattered little, as all of the bone armored knights became living pillars of flame as the Darkness inside of them ignited in the presence of the First Flame's avatar.

Kaathe trembled in fear as he watched the God of Peace approach.

"Ah, Chosen One, you've returned," the Primordial Serpent said weakly. It could feel the power radiating from the god, and he was not so foolish as to think he could fight and win against this being.

"Kaathe," the God of Peace spat, looking over the monstrous snake with disgust in his eyes. He hefted his occult blade, the Server, from its resting place on his shoulders and pointed it at the Darkwraith's master.

Without a word he lunged, scoring a deep wound on Kaathe's belly. Noisome fluids spurted from it, and the serpent bellowed in pain. Before he could retreat into the Abyss his fleshy moustache was grabbed and he was pulled down in front of the God of Peace.

"This is the end!" He roared, and the god tore the 'moustache' off of Kaathe's face.

"You and Frampt have manipulated us long enough. It was you and your kin who led Gywn and the others to the First Flame! You lot who tried to manipulate the world and all that happened since! Well no more!"

"You think I do not know what you are? What the 'Primordial Serpents' truly represent? You are naught but rotten intestinal worms born from the putrid entrails of a fallen Star-Lord. The very same one whose corpse became the First Flame."

The God of Peace threw down the massive snake onto the stained tile floor and placed his blade on its neck.

"Your meddling ends here."

"If you slay me, I will only return!" Kaathe spat, mocking the Chosen One. "I am one with the Flame, as are my kin! Our father will rise and there is nothing you pathetic mortals can do about it!"

"I know. Which is why I won't put you down like you so rightly deserve."

Kaathe stared in confusion at the god before golden flaming chains erupted from an outstretched palm. They wrapped around Kaathe's body and shot into the Darkness. Muffled howls could be heard from below, as well as the 'fwoosh!' of the last of the Darkwraiths igniting.

"I break your Covenant, Kaathe, and all who are a part of it now perish. And I bind you with my powers given to me by the First Flame. Only when the First Flame is about to truly fade and die will you be able to escape from your prison."

"You cannot do this!" Kaathe screamed, thrashing about. But the golden chains only dug deeper and tighter. "This Cycle will end and you will lose all your powers, and then I will be free!"

The God of Peace snorted. "I thought of that. I am not so foolish as to not plan ahead in that regard. Which is why I've anchored these chains which now bind you, and soon will bind the rest of the Primordial Serpents, to the Kiln itself, rather than my own soul. The Kiln is eternal, like the Flame it guards. Its form may change but even if the tiniest spark of the First Flame remains it will endure. And thus keep you prisoner until it fades."

Kaathe began to scream and struggle even harder, but the chains refused to release him. Instead, they started to drag the deformed snake away towards his new prison. He would join Frampt in bondage in the deepest level of the Kiln, hidden from all prying eyes.

The newly born god gave one last look around the area before stalking off. A red robed man with a bird-like mask approached the deity timidly.

"My lord, what will you do now?"

"I will destroy this place. It is too drenched in the Abyss's power, and will continue to be a cursed realm unless it is cleansed. If you have any belongings, I suggest you take them now, Yulva."

The last Sealer of New Londo shook his head and retreated up towards the elevator which would take him to Firelink Shrine. A few Blades of the Darkmoon saluted the lone warden of the city as he passed before the turned to the God of Peace for orders.

"The Darkwraiths are gone, and will not darken the world for a long time to come. However, justice must be ever vigilant. Evil always will try to thrive when good men do nothing. Now, return to Gwyndolin and inform him I am almost finished with this place. And that he should prepare for purging the Tomb of the Giants next."

Salutes and flashes of blue light greeted him, and the god sighed once no one was left to observe him. He ascended the stairs and stood on the edge of the cliff that looked over the ruins of New Londo.

He raised his hands, and the light that surrounded him coalesced into a massive ball of solar fury. He then hurled it into the center of the damned city and watched silently as everything burned. Only when all was ash and baked mud did he leave, collapsing the cavern in on itself.