#{ verse: elden lord of duskborn }

[elorne-the-grafted]

Elorne padded inside, fiddling with a belt that he tied around his chest to hold her in place. A pair of hands was already holding the ends of the sack in place to carry her into the table.

"From the tag on her leg, then yes." With the belt undone, he uses both pairs of hands to lay her down on the cleared table. "Your daughter told me she was your lover." He truthfully couldn't say much. He and Gideon were strangers to each other technically, and he really only knows of this relation based on the say of others. He had some more shocking news to offer Gideon after working for a shockingly short time with Selivus.

A man who he had once or twice seen around the Roundtable Hold has appeared once again, this time with what looks like precious cargo. Using a burlap cloth as a sling, he carries someone on his back, their body and resting on the grafted man's back.

He carries them into his study room. He is straight to the point.

"Is this Dolores? Do you know her?" He sounded slightly winded, as if he sped his way towards here to ask this.

@elorne-the-grafted

The events unfold quickly enough, someone barging into his study with what appears to be a corpse fastened to his back. Someone who's indulged in grafting at that.

It's like ice water down his spine when the words reach his ears.

"Dolores-wait, Dolores, the Sleeping Arrow. You have her?" There's an audible clatter of books as he shoves the stacks of tomes off the table before waving the man in.

"By the Erdtree-get in here man, mind the door!"

[rebellious-loyalty]

Across the fog, in the Lands Between The fallen leaves tell a story Of Golden and Crimson And how they were One and the Same...

((Independent, canon divergent/headcanon based, semi-selective rp blog for Marika/Radagon from Elden Ring. The most pertinent points of divergence are on the about page; you can find more about me, the mun, on the rules page. Defaults to Age of Order, though Age of Fracture, Age of Stars, and Age of the Duskborn are available. I will not write the Blessing of Despair or Lord of Frenzied Flame endings.))

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[elorne-the-grafted]

The response made him breathe out a long sigh. The urge to respond back with the same level of sass was so tempting, but his training kicked back in to stop him.

This is not for you. This is for Lord Godwyn. You must be strong and noble for Lord Godwyn.

"I bring good news and bad news, Lord Messmer. The good news is thy brother, Lord Godwyn the Golden, has returned to the Lands Between. The bad news is your mother is gravely ill, and has been so for a long time. Lord Godwyn wishes to speak to you on this matter."

He grabs a letter from his small rutsack, sealed with the symbol of the Erdtree and all. He offers it to Messmer, carefully approaching to be within a respectful distance.

There were some white lies sprinkled into his statement, all of it was rehearsed to make Messmer more willing to come through. Considering his banishment and erasure of his existence of the Lands Between, there wasn't much information to go on about him. So Lord Godwyn has chosen and specifically instructed his Elden Lord to pretend he was still Godwyn and Golden. Like little to nothing had changed since his banishment.

The letter read as follows in beautifully written black ink and gold leaf sprinkled in.

"Dear Lord Brother,

If this reaches thee, It gladdens me that we couldst finally speak again. This order has thrived for so long, creating an age so great that it's seeped into every inch and crevice of the soil.

But unfortunately, dear brother, our perfect order has waned, stagnated even. I was forced to leave very suddenly, and our mother became stricken with grief and illness that cannot be cured.

If thou art able, brother, I urge you to make haste to the Lands Between. I fear our time is finally running out, and I fear for the future of these lands if Mother is not able to continue her godly duties.

With much love,

Godwyn The Golden."

A cloaked figure entered his chambers, keeping what looks to be a death knight's axe low at his side. He was looking for someone, and it was apparent with his consistent pace, only stopping when nearing the middle of the chamber.

Adjusting to the darkness of the chamber, he looks towards the long-forgotten empyrean in front of him. Yet, his axe did not rise, only remaining at his side. He was no knight of Messmer, nor did he look like a man who would follow the Grace of Gold for that matter. Yet, he lowered his hood to reveal his face, and bowed reverently towards Messmer.

"Lord Messmer of Shadow Keep. Forgive my intrusion, I do not mean to interrupt you. I come here with news from outside this realm that is important to you."

@flameimpaler

[elorne-the-grafted]

How he got her was a long story. A story he didn't want to fully divulge for many reasons. One being because he didn't want to be ratted out to that Witch, another because he doesn't want to talk about the horrors he witnessed in Selvius's dungeon.

But he can't just leave him hanging. He can already feel Ofnir's judging eyes on him.

"Lady Ranni asked me to complete some tasks for Selivus. He tasked me to give people these potions." He said this, scrounging into his bag before producing a tiny bottle of a clear, glowing liquid potion. "Including your daughter, Nepheli." He placed the potion on his desk, leaving it there for Gideon to take and do whatever he pleased with it. Use it, destroy it, throw it away, whatever. He wanted to send the message that he wasn't going to use it.

"I never gave them to anyone, as I had my doubts in his intentions, and loyalty to Lady Ranni... Then I came across his dungeon of puppets..." He swallowed a lump in his throat. While Gideon was puking up his guts, he found himself trying not to wretch again at the thought of Selivus's puppets. "And I... I couldn't walk away while they were all just staring at me..." The thought was more horrifying than the dungeon of "blood donors" his father Godrick had. Especially knowing that Selivus could literally do that to anyone, including Elorne himself. At least his father killed his grafting victims before cutting them up.

A man who he had once or twice seen around the Roundtable Hold has appeared once again, this time with what looks like precious cargo. Using a burlap cloth as a sling, he carries someone on his back, their body and resting on the grafted man's back.

He carries them into his study room. He is straight to the point.

"Is this Dolores? Do you know her?" He sounded slightly winded, as if he sped his way towards here to ask this.

@elorne-the-grafted

The events unfold quickly enough, someone barging into his study with what appears to be a corpse fastened to his back. Someone who's indulged in grafting at that.

It's like ice water down his spine when the words reach his ears.

"Dolores-wait, Dolores, the Sleeping Arrow. You have her?" There's an audible clatter of books as he shoves the stacks of tomes off the table before waving the man in.

"By the Erdtree-get in here man, mind the door!"

[elorne-the-grafted]

He didn't need Gideon's take on Ranni to shed light on Ranni's darker intentions, or at least, her inability to act. "My association with her is small and inconsequential in the grand scheme... A grunt, you could say." His monotone voice was similar to Gideon, albeit with more nuance that he hasn't fully processed the traumatic scene. He was adjusting his rutsack on his belt. He badly needed to stretch and crack his back, but he refrained from it for now.

"I ran away from home and fell into her service when I was alone and needed help to survive." He fed Gideon a partial truth. He was, in fact, a runaway, but fortunately didn't fall into Ranni's service. Elorne was never truly alone.

Elorne internally paused to consider how many there were in that dungeon. "I saw about six or seven people in that dungeon..." He recollected carefully. "I only saw the main room. I saw smaller rooms in the corner that could have more... So maybe ten? I've carried out three so far."

A man who he had once or twice seen around the Roundtable Hold has appeared once again, this time with what looks like precious cargo. Using a burlap cloth as a sling, he carries someone on his back, their body and resting on the grafted man's back.

He carries them into his study room. He is straight to the point.

"Is this Dolores? Do you know her?" He sounded slightly winded, as if he sped his way towards here to ask this.

@elorne-the-grafted

The events unfold quickly enough, someone barging into his study with what appears to be a corpse fastened to his back. Someone who's indulged in grafting at that.

It's like ice water down his spine when the words reach his ears.

"Dolores-wait, Dolores, the Sleeping Arrow. You have her?" There's an audible clatter of books as he shoves the stacks of tomes off the table before waving the man in.

"By the Erdtree-get in here man, mind the door!"

[elorne-the-grafted]

Elorne just began to realize the can of worms he opened the moment he carried those puppets out of that dungeon - possibly even 'joining' Ranni's service.

He rubbed his face, a tired sigh leaving his lips as his hands moved to rub his temples. It was so much for him to swallow. He wondered if he lost the plot somehow, or if this would fuck up his main goals somehow. Whatever it was, it was far too late now to mull over the future consequences. He was already neck deep into it, he mine as well finish what he started.

"I saw shelves in there filled with books and flasks. Some of them had different colored liquids in there...?" He shrugged his shoulders, going off the vague memories of what he saw inside the room, other than the puppets. "I didn't see anything that looked like an obvious antidote, and to be frank... the only times I visited that dungeon was late at night. There's plenty of glintstone down there to make it glow faintly, but it's hardly enough to get a good look at the dungeon."

He looks at Dolores again. A heavy, sullen weight pushes down on his gut. He feels the need to vomit again. He attempts to slow his breathing in order to soothe himself.

A man who he had once or twice seen around the Roundtable Hold has appeared once again, this time with what looks like precious cargo. Using a burlap cloth as a sling, he carries someone on his back, their body and resting on the grafted man's back.

He carries them into his study room. He is straight to the point.

"Is this Dolores? Do you know her?" He sounded slightly winded, as if he sped his way towards here to ask this.

@elorne-the-grafted

The events unfold quickly enough, someone barging into his study with what appears to be a corpse fastened to his back. Someone who's indulged in grafting at that.

It's like ice water down his spine when the words reach his ears.

"Dolores-wait, Dolores, the Sleeping Arrow. You have her?" There's an audible clatter of books as he shoves the stacks of tomes off the table before waving the man in.

"By the Erdtree-get in here man, mind the door!"