Hallo. This is my first time here on SV and my first story ever. I am completely open to any and all criticism. Happy reading!
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Death
How long.
How long has it been since I ended up here, in this twice-dammed land of the undead. How long has it been since I was infected with this ill rotten curse.
How long has it been since I first found myself here, in Dark Souls, of all places.
Well atleast it's about to end soon, I thought before looking up to gaze at the final fog wall, before Gwyn. That man called himself self a god, yet beyond this wall is nothing but an old and decayed husk of man once called king.
A fool, if my memory of the lore still remains intact, who refused to let go. A fool who insted of leting the fire fade, instead of accepting the end of his reign, chose to use himself as kindling to deny fate.
A fool, like the one I am about to become.
Why? You may ask, because it is the only way I can think of to return home. I have used both the homeward spell and homeward bone in an attempt to return home, a spell and item who's sole purpose is to return you home. This did not work and insted sent me back to the last bonfire I rested at, just like in the game. However I did not stop there. I forged on and fought my way into Seathe's archives, hoping that, amongst all those books that there just might be an answer, a solution, a way to go home. In all the books I searched I did not find even the slightest hint or clue.
After not finding anything the 127th book I stopped searching, I did not wish to go mad like Big Hat Logan had in the games.
Because of that my next course of action was layed out for me.
And now here I stand, before the entrance of the Kiln, the First Flame. It's was the logical solution, atleast in my mind it was. The Homeward spell failed, the Homeward bone failed, and I could not search Seath's archives without the risk of going mad so this was the logical conclusion.
To light the First Flame.
So I stole myself and ran a quick invintory check.
Elite knight armor? Check.
Black knight Greatsword I had Andre reforge into a smaller more weildly Zweihander, that's still larger than a regular Zweihander with it being 12cm wide, 282cm long, and 6~7mm thick? Check.
Am I staling for time? Absolutely.
Pyromancy flame? Check.
Poision daggers, fire bombs and miscellaneous tools? Check.
"And thats... all. Man I'm so nervous, but you know what they say: No pain, no gain", I said outloud in an attempt to calm myself before stepping beyond the fog.
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When I emerged I saw him, Gwyn Lord of sunlight, I wasted no time. I drew my blade and made a bee line for him. I felt as the ground beneath me crumbled from from my take off and watched as the world blurred befor attempting an overhead swing.
It was parried, and pushed aside by Gwyn's own blade, followed by a thrust aimed at my head. I Tilted my head to the left, bearly avoiding the attack, and felt as his blade scraped aginst the side of my helm. Sparks flew and my ears rang.
I hastily brought up my left hand, coverd in my Pyromancy flame and let lose a point blank chaos fire ball and Gwyn's chest. The resulting force knocking the both of us back. I tumbled backwards, right hand still clutching my Zweihander. I moved my left hand to grab a small dagger from my hip and plunged it into the ground, slowing my momentum and sliding into a crouch.
I looked up and watched as Gwyn fumbled about slowly getting up. I noticed the burnt cloth around his torso, and both the sight and smell of his burnt rotten flesh. I stood up and assumed a guard. With my right arm forward, pointing my blade at him, and with my left hand, still holding the dagger, crossing over my right bisep. A guard used by the Abyss Watchers in Dark Souls 3.
Before launching forward yet again but this time slamming my dagger into the ground and spinning horizontally along the ground to slash at Gwyn's legs. However unlike in the game, in real life you can jump, and so can Gwyn. He jumped over the slash and we began to exchange blows.
Spin, slash, jump.
Duck, lean left, parry.
Somersault, stab. Shit, dagger was knocked out of my hand.
Fuck! Sunlight spear!
More sunlight spears!
He's making sure to keep up the pressure, not allowing me to cast my pyromancies.
Running low on Estus.
Pivot. Kick to balls. No effect. Lucky bastard.
Dammit, phase two, flamming sword.
Fuck, this is a lot harder in real life. Time to get risky.
Close the distance, half sword, strike the rist with the pommel.
Stabbed him in the hip, carry the momentum with a spin to pull out the blade.
Turn around. He's still standing. Black ooze dripping from his left hip.
Throw poison dagger.
It struck true and lodged itself in Gwyn's sholder. Bying me a moment to cast. I stuck my sword in the ground besides me and took aim. A gaint bow and arrow made of fire appeared in my hands, "string" taught. A pyromancy developed my yours truly and inpired by the lighting arrow miracle in DS3.
I released the "string" and watched as the "arrow" rocketed towards Gwyn, ash flying everywhere. Gwyn attempet to dodge but was not quick enough. The arrow shot through him and truck the walls of the Kiln, the cavern shook, tremors raced through the ground and debris flew in every direction. One hit me square in the head. Ow.
I shook my head, attempting to clear the concussion, and failing to do so. Deciding to insted heal my self with my Pyromancies.
I looked to where Gwyn onced stood and saw him slumped against the far wall, the rightside of his torso completely gone. I watched as began slowly pulling himself up with the aid of his heavily cracked sword.
I slowly approached. Returned my sword to it's sheath on my back, and reached into the pouch on my right hip and fiddled about untill I found it. My pistol. The one I woke up here with that carried me through the asylum. I had never been more happy to have a carry gun before I found myself in that cell.
I walked up to Gwyn and loaded the pistol, one bullet left, and pressed it up against his head before speaking, "Parry this you filthy casual." And fired. The bang reverberated off the walls of the Kiln causing my ears to violently ring within the confines of my helmet. I paid it no mind as I watched Gwyn lifelessly slump over.
I took a deep breath through my nose. The adrenaline from the fight now wearing off, making my wounds from the fight to start buring in pain.
My left ribs are cracked, my chestplate heavily dented and forcing the bone to push against my lungs, leaving me to struggle with laboured breaths. My legs shook, covered in laceratins and trousers slightly torn, alparently leather trousers are not that great and delfecting sord strikes. Who would've thought?
Everything hurt, but none of that mattered to me as I began to hobble towards the center of the Kiln, before collapsing to my knee's.
I reached out with my hands and watched as they caught alight. "Finaly." I weezed, "I can go home." I sat there with a ghost of a smile spread across my face as the fire began to engulf my form. It was warm and comforting, like a mother's embrace.
Strangly enough it did not hurt.
--- 01 ---
Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this garbage fic and have a great day.
