13Disclaimer: I literally don't own Dark Souls. Not even a physical copy, since I use Steam. So go away Miyazaki, you can't nerf my story.
AN: First chapter will be first person, if that jostles your jimbos just chill, it'll just be for the first chapter.
Day 28
*drip drip drip*
It has been some time since I arrived in the asylum. Sealing myself away from the world, I knew that I had done the right thing. Another cursed being wandering the earth is the last thing needed, so even should my contribution be small I rest easier knowing I have eased the burden the masses face. Regardless, I will not succumb to the darkness like so many of those around me. I will never surrender who I am. My past, my family, my comrades. As long as I have these memories with me I will stay strong.
And yet, the days continue. I can feel it now, where before it was just a brand upon my sword hand and hearsay of a slow madness. The curse, tendrils of nothing seeping into me, icy fingers reaching from the burning brand aback my hand… They climb up, seeking my memories, my sense of self, attempting to take all I am from me…
*drip drip drip*
Ah yes, the captain! Whenever he wished to remember a task or piece of information, he would always vocalize it. Even now, you can still teach me it seems…
*drip drip drip*
I am Ascalon, a brave and true Knight of Astora. A simple farm child, I was determined to obtain more for my family, and so begged into the service of a passing stately knight whose newly apprenticed page had fallen ill. I was a diligent page to my lord Knight Dhevon, and a skillful squire. By my seventeenth summer I had already joined the illustrious ranks of Astora's noble Knights, bringing great prestige and wealth above our means to my family.
For a few summers more, I continued my service, building my name, and while never breaching the lofty heights of legend I was a known and beloved figure in my home village and the lands surrounding it and the capital. Such an idyllic peace was not to last.
Twisting tendrils, leaking black ichor and drawn leathery skin, a single great eye, ruinous and desirous of all... A beast, great and terrible, began to ravage our fair Astora, setting fields barren and razing every village in its path, growing ever more powerful with every innocent slain. Our response was rapid, brutal and thorough, every knight of our brilliant Astora rallied to destroy this blighted beast ravaging our beautiful land.
I was one of the survivors of the battle with the Evil Eye of Astora, lauded for my heroic efforts and the lives of my countrymen they saved. Though many knights were lost in the conflict, the surge of patriotism from felling such a cruel creature saw our ranks swell five times over in the quarter score of peace we had. When the ring the Evil Eye was sealed into was presented as an offering to the Gods of Lordran, Astora experienced unprecedented prosperity, mine own family experiencing even greater boons thanks to my status as a survivor of that violent battle.
The next tragedy struck with greater swiftness and finality. The curse of undeath began.
For a time, I did my knightly duty of protecting peasants and gentry alike from the beggars that had seemed to have lost what little vim they had, eyes glowing a baleful red and flesh of weathered leather. They were easy to corral in the start, the prosperity of our great nation of Astora ensuring the downtrodden few were indeed just that, few. But as time drew on, and there seemed to be no sign of aid from on high in ending the curse, people lost hope, and the curse spread.
Butchers, scribes, lords and even knights of my own company seemed to become sullen and furtive, before succumbing to the curse in silence, hiding the burning brand until fully losing themselves. It was... difficult to see men I fought besides and shared the sweet taste of victory with lose themselves so easily.
And then that hungry black void appeared upon mine own flesh, sealed by the fires of damnation.
Rather than place the burden upon those of mine blood and land, I sent myself to this pristine prison, safe in the knowledge that I shall harm none and shall not besmirch the good name I endeavored to create for myself and my family.
As such, here I stoically sit. Awaiting the end, of myself or this curse I care not.
Day 62
*drip drip drip*
It will not take me. I will remember. These fingers of ice will not steal the fires of my existence.
*drip drip drip*
I am Ascalon, a Knight of Astora. A farm child, I was determined to obtain more for my family, and so begged into the service of a passing knight whose page had fallen ill. I was a page to Knight Dhevon, and then a squire. By my seventeenth summer I had already joined the ranks of Astora's Knights, bringing prestige and wealth above our means to my family.
For a few summers more, I continued my service, building my name, and while never becoming a legend I was a known figure in my home village and the capital. Such peace was not to last.
Tendrils, leaking ichor and drawn skin, a single great eye, ruinous and desirous of all... A beast began to ravage Astora, setting fields barren and razing every village in its path, growing ever more powerful with each life taken. Our response was swift, every knight of Astora rallied to destroy this beast ravaging our land.
I was one of the survivors of the battle with the Evil Eye of Astora, lauded for my efforts and the lives of my countrymen they saved. Though many knights were lost in the conflict, the surge of patriotism from felling such a creature saw our ranks swell five times over in the five years of peace we had. When the ring the Evil Eye was sealed into was presented as an offering to the Gods of Lordran, Astora experienced prosperity, mine own family experiencing great boons thanks to my status as a survivor of that violent battle.
The next tragedy struck with greater swiftness and finality. The curse of undeath began.
For a time, I did my knightly duty of protecting peasants and gentry alike from the beggars that had seemed to have lost what little vim they had, eyes glowing a baleful red and flesh of weathered leather. They were easy to corral at the start, the prosperity of our great nation of Astora ensuring the downtrodden few were indeed just that, few. But as time drew on, and there seemed to be no sign of aid from on high in ending the curse, people lost hope, and the curse spread.
Butchers, scribes, lords and even knights of my own company seemed to become sullen and furtive, before succumbing to the curse in silence, hiding the burning brand until fully losing themselves. It was... difficult to see men I fought besides and shared the sweet taste of victory with lose themselves so easily.
And then that hungry black void appeared upon mine own flesh, sealed by the fires of damnation.
Rather than place the burden upon those of mine blood and land, I sent myself to this pristine prison, safe in the knowledge that I shall harm none and shall not besmirch the good name I endeavored to create for myself and my family.
As such, here I stoically sit. Awaiting the end, of myself or this curse I care not.
Day 169
*drip drip drip*
All that I am I will retain. I remember everything with perfect clarity, the curse shall not steal even the slightest detail from me.
*drip drip drip*
I am Ascalon, a Knight of Astora. A farm child, I was determined to obtain more for my family, and so begged into the service of a passing knight whose page had fallen ill. I was a page to Knight Dhevon, and then a squire. By my seventeenth summer I had already joined the ranks of Astora's Knights, bringing prestige and wealth above our means to my family.
For a few summers more, I continued my service, building my name, and while never becoming a legend I was a known figure in my home village and the capital. Such peace was not to last.
Tendrils, leaking ichor and drawn skin, a single great eye, ruinous and desirous of all...A beast began to ravage Astora, setting fields barren and razing every village in its path, growing ever more powerful with every life taken. Our response was swift, every knight of Astora rallied to destroy this beast ravaging our land.
I was one of the survivors of the battle with the Evil Eye of Astora, lauded for my efforts and the lives of my countrymen they saved. Though many knights were lost in the conflict, the surge of patriotism from felling such a creature saw our ranks swell five times over in the five years of peace we had. When the ring the Evil Eye was sealed into was presented as an offering to the Gods of Lordran, Astora experienced prosperity, mine own family experiencing great boons thanks to my surviving that battle.
The next tragedy struck. The curse of undeath began.
I did my duty, protecting the people from the beggars that had seemed to have lost what little life they had, eyes glowing red and flesh of leather. They were easy to corral in the beginning, the excess of Astora ensuring the downtrodden few were indeed just that, few. But as time drew on, and there was no sign of aid from the Gods, people lost hope and the curse spread.
Butchers, scribes, lords and even knights of my own company seemed to become sullen and furtive, before succumbing to the curse. It was... difficult to see men I fought besides and shared victory with lose themselves so.
And then that hungry black void appeared upon mine own flesh, sealed by the fires of damnation.
Rather than place the burden upon another, I sent myself to this prison, safe in the knowledge that I shall harm none and shall not besmirch the good name I endeavored to create for myself and my family.
As such, here I sit. Awaiting the end, of myself or this curse I care not.
Year 2
*drip drip drip*
If my time as a knight-errant was unable to break me, simple confinement will not do so either. This constant caress against my sense of self will be ignored, I am me, and nothing can erase that!
*drip drip drip*
I am Ascalon, a Knight. A farm child, I was determined to obtain more for my family, and so begged into the service of a passing knight whose page had fallen ill.I was a page to this knight, and then a squire. By my seventeenth summer I had already joined the ranks of the knights, seeking prestige and wealth above our means for my family.
For a few summers more, I continued my service, building my name, yet never becoming a legend.
Such peace was not to last.
A single great eye, ruinous and desirous of all...
A beast began to ravage the land, setting fields barren and razing every village in its path, growing ever more powerful. Our response was swift, every knight rallied to destroy this beast ravaging the land.
I was one of the survivors of the battle with the beast. Many knights were lost in the conflict.
The next tragedy struck. The curse of undeath began.
I did my duty, protecting the people from the beggars that had seemed to have lost what little life they had, eyes glowing red and flesh of leather. There was no sign of aid from the Gods, people lost hope, and the curse spread.
All seemed to become sullen and furtive, before succumbing to the curse.
And then that hungry black void appeared upon mine own flesh, sealed by the fires of damnation.
Rather than place the burden upon another, I sent myself to this prison, safe in the knowledge that I shall harm none and shallnot besmirch the good name I endeavored to create for myself and my family.
As such, here I sit. Awaiting the end, of myself or this curse.
Year 5
*drip drip drip*
The gentle breeze scatters my thoughts but I gather them once more. It means no harm, and no harm done. It is merely in its nature, the rascally little scamp.
*drip drip drip*
I am Ascalon, a Knight.
A single great eye, ruinous and desirous of all...
I was one of the survivors of the battle.
The next tragedy struck. The curse of undeath began.
There was no sign of aid from the Gods, people lost hope, and the curse spread.
And then that hungry black void appeared upon mine own flesh, sealed by the fires of damnation.
I sent myself to this crumbling prison.
Here I sit, awaiting the end of myself.
Year ?
*drip drip drip*
I lost them. They? What did I lose? No, not lost, taken, stolen, missing here but then gone, who who who who did it… ah, the light caress, my friend, I still have you, we will find those, those lost things, and get them back. You have been with me so long, you'll help me get them back, yes, thank you friend, but what were they, those lost things? I know, we, we'll get them all. If we get everything surely my, no no no, our things will be a part of everything because they are a thing so we will get them, yes, great plan we can do this…
*drip drip drip*
I am a Knight, ruinous and desirous of all...
The blessing of undeath brings wealth and prestige.
There is no aid from the Gods.
That serene black void brings idyllic peace and great boons.
I was sent to this crumbling prison.
Here I sit, awaiting the end of my imprisonment.
*drip drip drip*
*drip drip drip*
?
*drip drip drip*
Things get a bit dull around here, but I have my good friend Vorago with me. He really helps keep the loneliness at bay. Gods only know how nutty I'd be if I didn't have him here with me! We've been waiting here quite a while, for what I don't know but Vorago tells me it'll be fun, so wait we shall.
*drip drip drip*
I will gather everything and woe unto any who try and stop me.
Being undead brings fun joyous occasions and untold treasures.
Since no one is helping I shall help myself.
My little black friend Vorago is a big help.
Vorago says I am in the starting position.
Here I am, ready to get going.
*drip dri-*
*thump*
Looking from the corpse lain in my cell, I spy a helmeted visage not dissimilar to mine knightly visitor, a blue and gold surcoat on the bit of his torso visible. Much nicer than my armor, maybe he'd be willing to trade? I could throw in this broken sword that fell in long ago...Oh! Right you are Vorago, he wouldn't need the armor if he was dead, so clever. It is a dangerous world, if he happens to pass on I'm sure he wouldn't mind us doing using his armor. It is nice armor... Something about the helm and bit of surcoat visible stirs something within me, before Vorago reminds me of more pressing matters. Looking down, the helm slips out of sight as my eyes are drawn to the brilliant white shine resting over the corpse. Touching it briefly, the glow is absorbed by Vorago, leaving behind a key for me. Thanking my little friend, I pick up the key before letting a smile cross my desiccated lips.
Oh boy Vorago, I think it's time for us to go.