#with apologies to the darkwraith

[redsixwing]

VOTE CAINHURST! are we letting the innuendo name have it without a fight?

[izar-tarazed]

Just like her Elden Ring counterpart, Dark Souls Izar initially wakes with (almost) no memories of her past; she has not forgotten everything, but… most things. There is a big gap.

She wonders; she’s curious; but she isn’t desperate to find out who she was, or why she forgot. She seizes the chance to invent herself anew and from scratch. She becomes a wanderer, free and untethered, she experiments with whatever weapon falls into her hand, she’s curious about magic. There is nothing from her past to serve as an anchor, but she doesn’t mind. She has been like this for a long time when she ends up in the Undead Asylum, and escapes, and begins her journey as Chosen Undead, quietly scoffing at the thought: why would she, who doesn’t excel at anything, be chosen in any way. It doesn’t feel like a burden, though; she keeps travelling and exploring.

She learns magic. A storyteller at heart, she’s fascinated by miracles being tales of old, or fragments of tales; fascinated by magic unfolding through the power of remembering and reciting those tales. She learns to wield a lightning spear and welcomes the way this kind of magic sizzles and bites at her fingertips. She dabbles in pyromancy, fascinated by light and warmth. (Fire and lightning, she later realizes, are both opposed to water in their own way.)

She mostly stays clear of sorceries, though; a coincidence, she thinks.

And then there’s always those ruins: the dark ones beneath the Firelink Shrine; the flooded ones, silent and haunted.

They call to her before she knows their story. They feel like a place she should know, and Izar wonders whether she did, back when New Londo was an actual city. She probably learns about the city’s fate long before she first dares to venture into it, learning to fight off the ghosts. She probably hears of the darkwraiths before she first makes her way to that roof, and meets a solitary figure clad in the same crimson robes that she has taken to wearing, simply because she likes them, without any deeper feeling attached.

But then that figure—masked, unlike her—turns to greet her, and freezes, and says her name in an old voice. ‟You came back.”

And she blinks. Shakes her head, gives an apologizing smile. ‟You must mistake me for someone else, this isn’t really my robe,” and it’s his turn to shake his head and step closer, and she realizes that he has said her name. This is not about the robe she wears.

‟I’m Ingward. Do you not remember?” he says, and she falls quiet. She does not remember. But there is a sadness to his voice that can only come from truth.

‟Izar,” he says, cradling her name carefully as if it could be broken—as if this very moment could be broken, and he gestures to the dark waters. ‟You were one of us. When we flooded the city… when we sealed this place, sacrificing everything…”

And she shakes her head, but the motion does not seal his words from coming.

‟You helped,” he says. ‟Even though you had a friend among the Darkwraiths—you still helped when we drowned this place. Do you not remember?”

She does not, her mind as dark as the waters surrounding them.

‟No,” she mutters, turning away, ‟this couldn’t have been me,” but she knows. Even without remembering—she knows. She understands, too, why she forgot everything: they were not taken from her, those memories, not ripped out of her mind by some unknown tragedy. Izar herself, skilled sorceress that she was—a healer in crimson robe—had walked away and purged her memories. Flooded her mind with oblivion to drown the guilt much in the same way the city was flooded to contain the darkness, sacrificing everything else.

Fire and lightning and never sorcery, and it still leads her back to this place, to knowing without even remembering.

[lucatielenjoyer]

Further Elaboration upon the Four

so recently, someone gave a damn near poetic response to my post asking if I should speak of my boys, and so I shall answer some of the questions about them that weren't super elaborated on in the original two posts.

Lysandre tends to wear the Elite Knight armor, due to his trying to pass himself off as an Astoran knight. He still uses his knife, but also has the Rapier of the Undead Prince Ricard in order to keep appearances. Patches would tell you the man was a schemer- a dishonest and opportunistic creature. Let not his words deceive you, for he still becomes cross with those who would agree. Lysandre cared a great deal for Rhea of Thorolund- to the point of murdering Petrus for what he did- and mourned her loss to the paledrake as though she were his whole world. Given how he learned all the miracles she knew despite having no aptitude for them, perhaps she was.

Mardus wore the armor of the Darkwraiths, as well as the Warlock's helm. Their darker nature appealed to him, made him feel more adept in his practices. Despite his inclination to darker magics, he held Lucatiel and Lenigrast close to his heart, as dear friends. Possibly more, in the Knightess' case, although he doesn't talk about it much. He was a boisterous man, even before his learning of Hexes, and was not very humble, even by the standards of sorcerers. After Lucatiel's death, however, he became much more subdued. It is said that in his travels after abandoning the Throne of Want, he wears the armor of a traveling Mirran knight and carries an odd mask with him. Despite clearly being a Gentleman's dueling mask, he says it belonged to someone named Lucatiel, imploring all who hear such things to remember her name.

Genguchi, being unabashedly blind in his faith in the ways of old. wears the gauntlets of the famed Dragonslayer Ornstein. His chestplate having belonged to the Holy Knight Hodrick, his greaves those of the great Paladin Alva. The only thing not belonging to a great holy warrior is his helmet, that of an unremarkable knight. His shield is not unlike those you would find in the sunless realms, and his sword one that despite appearances, carries a great deal of holy power. He cares greatly for all who he has met, but demonstrates a particular fondness for any who were once prisoners, namely the Witch Karla, the saintess Irina, and the thief Greirat.

Argus, for the most part, retains his loyalties and attitudes from the time before Tarnished were even a concept. His admiration for Radahn is seen in the fact that he wears the Demigod's Armor, or at least a very finely made replica. His respect for Godfrey is seen in the fact that every so often, one can find portraits of the former Elden Lord on the moonlit plateau, painted by a shaky hand and steadily getting closer and closer to the true likeness of the First Tarnished. Once in a while, those who dare to explore the Haligtree find bouquets of flowers in a secluded spot, near a body that seems to have been there for a relatively short amount of time. Letters of apology are always there, too, addressed from someone named "A" to the woman, calling her "The Daughter he Never had". And sometimes, at stormveil castle, cold gusts of wind will work their way to the throne room, reminding the Lady of the Castle of a great Warrior and the conquests in which they shared.

I'll talk more about them later as well, obviously, but this is like a part one of the extended lore

[vampire-chevalier]

There's a slight tension in his body at the word darkwraith but it's hardly noticeable. "I-I see. My apologies." He sits up slightly, crossing his legs and straightening his back. "A darkmoon, a firekeeper and a knightess. My lady is there nothing you are not capable of?"

knecht-cheval

He smiles “oh i have already met him and made my request of him. My armor is in need of repair and refitting. Much of it may be replaced entirely.” He stops speaking for a moment, seemingly uncertain of something. “Are you the firekeeper? I can’t say i have ever met one who was in need of armor.”

She let out a small laugh, “Yes, but most firekeepers aren’t members of the Blades of the Darkmoon. While tending to this fire is my primary responsibility, I still have other duties that warrant the use of armor, such as hunting Darkwraiths and other sinners.”