Dark Souls: Tale Of Lordran: Firelink and Undead Burg

Hello once again, this time with a little late of a post, but nonetheless, the next part in the Dark Souls series. Despite everything, this might actually end up being quite a large series, I predict, and I am going to have to work extremely hard to keep up the pace. As I am trying to cover as much as I can, including any side quests there may be, the game all of a sudden just seems really large. The lore just branches out and more research is to be done, but anyway, right now, it’s starting off at a good pace, in due time, our Chosen Undead will ring the first bell in no time. Hopefully, encountering no trouble as he does….But who knows, maybe even the most valiant of knights, will sometimes be the worse you will have ever seen. But that’s for a side story/quest for another day. In fact, should the side quests be a side story and not related to this male Tale Of Lordran series? Nah, maybe I’ll just squeeze it in. Anyway here it is, “Firelink and Undead Burg”,

Upon linking the Bonfire in front of him, the Chosen Undead looked around to his surroundings. A large tree stood behind him, and all around it were ruins. Ruins and a tattered stair case. In the distance was a well, with a dead body sprung over it.  Across from that was a hill, with a walkway that sported into the insides of a waterway.  The Undead was taken in by the sights. But as he was finally able to ascertain himself with what little reality he had left, he saw a person sitting by. He wore a gray chainmail and had beige skin. He was sitting on top of a stone step, minding his business. As the Undead approached him, the man looked up. The man was  a Crestfallen Warrior. An Undead warrior of a time long past. Perhaps sitting here, awaiting the end of time, or perhaps, unable to find the motivation to do much else, he awaits.  Or perhaps, he has accepted his fate, a hollowed fate, and is awaiting the inevitable. No matter, he entertains the Chosen Undead.

“Well, what do we have here? You must be a new arrival. Let me guess. Fate of the Undead, right? Well, you’re not the first. But there’s no salvation here. You’d have done better to rot in the Undead Asylum. But, too late now. Well, since you’re here, let me help you out. There are actually two Bells of Awakening. One’s up above, in the Undead Church. The other is far, far below, in the ruins at the base of Blighttown. Ring them both, and something happens, brilliant, right? Not much to go on, but I have a feeling that won’t stop you.”  The Chosen Undead shook his head.

“So, off you go. It is why you came, isn’t it? To this accursed land of the Undead?” Crestfallen Warrior began laughing, albeit in a mild manner. In a tone that suggested that perhaps, in some other time period, he had chosen the path of the Undead. The Chosen Undead asked Crestfallen Warrior how to get to either destination.

“Hm? What, you want to hear more? Oh, that’s all we need. Another inquisitive soul. Well, listen carefully, then. One of the bells is up above in the Undead Church, but the lift is broken. You’ll have to climb the stairs up the ruins, and access the Undead Burg through the waterway.” The Chosen Undead turned to the waterway he had noticed before and acknowledged its worth.

“The other bell is back down below the Undead Burg, within the plague-infested Blighttown. But I’d die again before I step foot in that cesspool!” Crestfallen Warrior began laughing again. The Chosen Undead decided to go up above, to the Undead Church, and ring the Bell of Awakening there. He turned and ventured forwards towards the waterway. On his way, he grabbed the item that was dangling on the corpse on the well.  It was Humanity. A black sprite with a faded white glow. The Undead held it in his hand, intrigued by what he had found, and upon being enveloped within its darkness, he had subconsciously consumed it. He found himself feeling less and less hollow as the effects of the Humanity were sinking in. If Humanity was given to humans by fragment of the Dark Soul, then what difference does it make for the souls we already carry? Consuming the Humanity seemed to make the Chosen Undead more human, for however much he could be, considering the Darksign. He still had two more Humanity sprites, and he decided to keep them for later. For they had a hidden restorative property.


Rare tiny black sprite found on corpses. This black sprite is called humanity, but little is known about its true nature. If the soul is the source of all life, then what distinguishes the humanity we hold within ourselves?

The Undead pressed on, towards the steps that led to the waterway. Upon getting to the top of the first set of steps,  he was greeted by two Undead Soldiers. He readied his weapons and before he could make the first move, a third Soldier jumped out from the second set of steps. Luckily for the Undead, there was enough foot holding for them to have a battle, however, the cliff was a one way drop.  The Undead blocked the attack from above, then with his sword intercepted the blade of another Soldier. He pushed them both back, and then with one skillful cut, decimated a Soldier. It fell to its knees, and then the Undead used his shield as a tackle to catch the other Solder off guard. As the Soldier staggered backwards, the Undead pushed him off the cliff, and then turned to slash the other Soldier as he prepared to attack him. Suddenly, a firebomb exploded in front of the Chosen Undead, charring him for a second. The Undead looked up towards a Soldier who was on top of the steps. He rushed up and with a quick jab using the pommel of his sword, pushed the firebomb Soldier off the cliff. But his work wasn’t done. From behind, an Undead Soldier carrying an axe jumped on the Chosen Undead and gashed his armor. He took a big hit, but the Chosen Undead didn’t falter. He turned quickly and jabbed his sword through the Soldier’s neck. Then, from the stairs leading to the waterway itself, stood another Undead Soldier. The Chosen Undead carried on, parried it’s blade and then used his shield to throw him off the waterway. As he had confirmed that the area was clear, the Chosen Undead climbed the rest of the stairs and found the waterway entrance. On the steps leading to it however, was a corpse dangling off. The Undead found a Soul Of A Lost Undead from it, and decided to pocket it.

*Soul Of A Lost Undead*

Soul of a lost Undead who has long ago gone Hollow.

Souls are the source of all life, and whether Undead, or even Hollow, one continues to seek them.

Upon entering the waterway, the Undead was instantly greeted by a scurrying sound. He distinguished the waters movement from actual movement, a feat he was proud of. He then turned left, and saw a large rat, moving towards a fence. The Soldier quickly stabbed the rat and as it’s corpse fell to the ground, noticed a corpse beside it. He found another Soul Of A Lost Undead, and pocketed it. The Chosen Undead then turned and went to the other end of the waterway. Instinctively, he noticed a dent in the wall to his left. It was an arched pathway, made as a passage to the Burg. He climbed the stairs that left the waterway, and on top, arrived in the Undead Burg.  Two Undead Soldiers greeted him, but the Chosen Undead  took the initiative, and made a clean cut through the first one’s body. He then moved quickly and took a slash at the second. All around him were barrels and remains of a once great bustling city. He took note and pressed on towards the insides of a residence. There were wooden tables and even chairs, evidence of a life before his time. However, the only residents he could see were the Undead Soldiers, the Hollows that attacked him. The Chosen Undead left the house on a second floor and ascended towards Upper Burg. The walkway gave him view to a large bustling tower to his right. It was a beautiful view. Brick erected from the ground, unholy like. As the Chosen Undead made his way through, he was suddenly taken aback as a large winged beast flew towards the walkway and landed in front of him. It was a Hellkite Drake. A large crimson beast with wings as large as it’s body, and fangs and talons enough to rip bodies in half. It’s body was spiked with its scales and its breath decimated legions of Soldiers. But, as the Chosen Undead readied himself, the Wyvern flew off, towards the tower.

The Chosen Undead pressed on, unfazed by the erratic nature of the world.  Upon getting to the Upper Burg, the Undead was faced with more Undead Soldiers. One was on the roof of a building, shooting arrows down at him, while two more lay in rest, awaiting him. The Chosen Undead engaged the two Soldiers in front of him, slashing the first, but having to raise his shield to block an oncoming arrow. The second Soldier took advantage of this and took a gander at the Undead, nicking his arm, but not without retaliation. The Chosen Undead slashed the Soldier just as an arrow came without sight. His cut was off angle and the arrow missed him by a hair. The Chosen Undead then took footing again and followed up with a thrust, taking out the Soldier. The Undead then ran up the stairs and bashed the Ranged Soldier off the roof. Upon turning around, he noticed an open entrance to what had seemed to be a lobby of sorts.

In the middle of the room was a sword, stuck within ash and bones. A Bonfire. The Chosen Undead lit the bonfire, and decided to rest, to let his wounds recover. But, before he could get comfortable, a voice called out to him in the corner of the room. How, in Gwyn’s name did he not notice? But no matter.

“Well, now. You seem to have your wits about you, hmm? Then you are a welcome customer! I trade for souls. Everything’s for sale!” The Undead Merchant then began laughing gleefully. He was just that, an undead merchant. He looked Hollow, just like the soldiers that the Chosen Undead has fought. His eye sockets were hollow, his skin was missing, and the only thing resembling human left on him was his bones, which were charred red. But he was more calm. He did not attack the Undead. He wore a tattered gray shirt and pants and spread across the ground was his wares, pots and items that intrigued the Chosen Undead. Without warning, the Undead Merchant began again.

“It’s actually quite nice here, you know? The hollows don’t care for a skinny old twig like me. I’ve got Yulia.” Undead Merchant looked to his side and petted the air.

“And nobody pelts me with stones anymore. You’re Undead, you know how it is. I was treated worse back at home.” As the Chosen Undead browsed his wares, without word, the undead merchant began speaking, as if to satiate an inquiry unspoken.

“Eh? My wares? Of course they’re stolen; what did you think? And when you lose your head, I’ll sell it all again!” Undead Merchant finished with another gleeful laugh. The Chosen Undead pondered using his souls to buy a few items that would prove useful to his journey, but he pulled back, satisfied with what he had. In this place, souls are the currency. All beings lust for souls, and even some claim that it will help them fight back the Hollowing. But the truth is, all fates are intertwined in Lordran. All Undead will find themselves Hollow in due time, souls or not. As the Chosen Undead turned, Undead Merchant gave off a last remark.

“Hmph. What a waste of time. Go and fall off a cliff.” The Chosen Undead left the room after resting and continued his venture. He made for a walkway towards the inside of a tower like structure. However, it was worn, moss devoured it, and the ledge stones are long but tattered. Worn like the world itself. As he entered the building, two Undead Soldiers lie in waiting. One with an axe, and the other with a single long sword. The one with the axe swung down hard on the Chosen Undead, but as his shield blocked it, the one with the sword circled around and gave a gander at his arm. The Chosen Undead lowered his shield and backed off. He waited and read the movements of the Soldiers. As the one with the axe jumped at him ,he rolled towards the back of the one with the sword, who had missed his slash. Now, with his back to the Chosen Undead, he was vulnerable. The Chosen Undead took his sword and thrust it into the Soldier’s back, effectively killing him. He then used his shield to block the axe Soldier’s chop, and then finished him with another slash. The Chosen Undead scoffed at his wounds, and moved forward.

The Chosen Undead found himself in what seemed to be a street of sorts. Two houses faced each other back to back. One of which was accessed from a place down below, but the other, had a door leading to it. The Chosen Undead checked the door and opened it. He readied his shield and sword, but to his surprise, there was no Soldier lying in wait. Rather, he entered a solemn home. There was wooden furnish in a roundabout way that signified that, perhaps in another time, this place used to be civil. A place devoid of Hollow. But that time has long passed. The desolate shelf filled with wares and the emptiness of the fireplace gave the Chosen Undead a feeling of hopelessness. This world was unforgiving. The Chosen Undead noticed a chest at the back of the room. He didn’t think it would be open, despite breaking into the home, but checked anyway. The Chosen Undead gripped the opening to the chest and lifted it open in one motion. Inside, he found Black Firebombs.

*Black Firebombs*

Black bisque urn filled with black powder. Explodes, inflicting fire damage. Powerful ranged weapon, especially in situations called for fire damage.

He stored the Black Firebombs in a pouch near his armor, ready to be thrown when the situation calls for it. He left the desolated home and went down a flight of stairs to what seemed to be a courtyard. Two Undead Soldiers lie in wait for him. The first jumped at the sight of the Chosen Undead, but this was avoided with a roll to the side, followed up with a slash towards the second Soldier. Taking advantage of the situation, the Chosen Undead then followed up with another slash towards the first Soldier. As they fell, the Chosen Undead heard a familiar sound as footsteps closed in on him. It wasn’t just the footsteps, but it was the sound of metal boots clashing with the courtyard that resounded within the Chosen Undead. The Chosen Undead turned and rolled out to dodge a fatal backstab. The one who struck was a Black Knight. Taller than the Undead Soldiers, and much, much tougher. He wore charred black armor, burned to a crisp, like it had visited the ends of Izalith and back. His helmet had horns sticking out of it, which made his demeanor more menacing. In his left hand was a Black Knight Shield, and in his right, a Black Knight Sword. It wielded it’s sword with great strength,  enough to prove it’s once proud status as guards of Gwyn.

The Knight swiped at the Chosen Undead, but, he blocked in time. The Sword fought fiercely with his shield, and the Chosen Undead was forced to step back. His shield wouldn’t manage against such a fierce knight. Black Knight didn’t falter and continued his barrage, swiping down hard against the Chosen Undead. The Chosen Undead quickly dodged to the right, but Black Knight followed up his swings and connected an upward slash towards the Chosen Undead. He staggered, but only for a second. He could take two more hits, but that was it. The Black Knight’s swings were fierce indeed.

Black Knight swung down, but the Chosen Undead was slower, and only managed a weak block. He flinched, but with his other hand, swung down at the Black Knight. Only minor damage. He backed off. He needed to wait, to think. There’s only one answer. He focused, and once the Black Knight swung , he acted. He raised his shield, bashed the Knight’ sword to the side and then thrust into the Black Knight’s armor; he parried. The Black Knight’s armor gave in, surprisingly, and as the Chosen Undead turned his sword, he noticed that the armor was indeed, rusted, old, and was perhaps weakened by the flames of Izalith; not that he would know.  It churned with his sword, and as the Chosen Undead retracted his blade, the Black Knight fell. The Chosen Undead examined the sword and shield left by the Black Knight. He picked them both up, and decided to use the shield. It was large and ovular in size, and it’s black sheen was surely going to come in handy.  The Black Knight Sword felt heavy but he decided to use it, for it had better strength than his own. He left his Straight Sword holstered and bolstered his new Sword.

*Black Knight Shield*

Shield of the Black Knights that wander Lordran. A flowing canal is chiseled deeply into its face. Long ago, the black knights faced the chaos demons, and were charred black, but their shields became highly resistant to fire.

*Black Knight Sword*

Greatsword of the black knights who wander Lordran. Used to face chaos demons.

The large motion that puts the weight of the body into the attack reflects the great size of their adversaries long ago.

The Chosen Undead then ascended another pair of stairs until he reached the base of a watch tower. He ascended yet another flight of stairs; a commodity of the Chosen Undead, until he found the opening of the watch tower. The watch tower connected with another, forming  a sort of castle wall, that one could peer off of.  He took one step forward and down a smaller flight of stairs until he reached the base. The connecting platform acted as a bridge of sorts, but the fact stood that it had been tattered. A section of the pillars that made the sides of the bridge had been smashed, rubble stood lying on the bridge floor. Looking past, even the opposite watch tower was shriveled, beaten up.  As the Chosen Undead turned to look to the sky, he saw rays of sunlight escaping from the clouds. It was as if the lords themselves were descending, but that sight, was far, far away. Without even thinking, the Chosen Undead had begun moving towards the opposite watch tower. But even past the rubble, he couldn’t get his mind off of the deteriorating world.

Without a seconds notice, as he was a few  meters from the second watch tower, he noticed rumbling. He looked up, and saw a large creature, with a bull-like appearance. It jumped down and blocked the Chosen Undead’s path. This was the Taurus Demon.  It’s skull had natural horns to it that were far more menacing than any Black Knight’s and it’s body was bulking, standing on its two feet, with its Demon’s Greataxe in hand. Without warning, it began charging down the bridge, it’s goal; to destroy the Chosen Undead.


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