Dark, Bloodied characters in Remnant

Chapter 11

Hi.

So there's been some questions regarding featured characters.

About the series:

Ive played ds3, complete (except for the dlc), only a little of dark souls 2, i just happened to find an old copy for my old ps3 somewhere.

And i really only know solaire from the internet memes. You know, "Do these casuls even praise the sun?" and that.

Basically, dark souls 1 is something i haven't played yet. I know i had the disc somewhere but that was like, 2012, :[

Anywho, here goes.

Firelink Shrine

It was a place that would never be told the children of this new world, or even appear in the books of history. A place where those who had failed to successfully link the First Flame were given a chance to re-write their weakness as strength in the Legend of fire, weather their goal was to sustain it, stifle it, or for some other reason. The bell tolled, the ash awakened, and their journey through the churning land of Lothric. But such a dangerous place was not able to be traversed completely alone, the Unkindled one had shone light on those who had given up, or had found themselves in a bit of a pickle, as one would say.

The woman who guided the Ashen one, the lady who eased their burdens, she had been called to the Kiln of the first flame, by her champion. Together, they put the First flame to rest. Letting the sustenance of life fade, until it would one day rekindle, and await it's new Lords, and inevitably, the ones who would come to link the fire. The Firekeeper awaited this day with her guardian, waiting for the day that the tiny flames that danced upon the darkness would return as a source of life for the Lords, and their kin. The Firekeeper would have loved to see the person she guided as one of the first to claim a Lord Soul. The once brittle ash now a home for the greatest of souls.

Known long ago in the land of fire as a petty thief. One of the more renowned among the low-lives of old Lothric, he was caught in a panic, and thrown in a cell. But even theives such as him can make a change for the better, even if they don't know it themselves. Now, though, the extent of his abilities ended in the act of trading items to those who would be willing to make a transaction. It was merely his way to honor one who was so bright and courageous. Even if he had only spent a little time with the Unkindled, the family of Firelink Shrine remained as kind to him as ever. Greirat wanted to share the kindness that had been bestowed upon him that time in the cell. He wanted to be just like his savior.

Cornyx, the pyromancer who had been found in a cage, dangling above certain death. While he mourned his greatest student, the old man was still infatuated with the incoming world, amazed at their discoveries. The humans who had risen from the rubble of the age of fire had made leaps through their technology. The elder pyromancer felt something within him slowly take form, until he passed through the gates, beyond the battleground of the Iudex, and into the world that had been reformed into Remnant.

Karla, another who has drabbled in the arts of magic, only, her kind of spells infringed upon humanity, earning her a dark cell as a wretched child of the abyss. The sounds she dismissed as the scraping of blades on stone, had grown into the creaking of her cage doors. When she arrived at the Shrine, Karla acted as one of the Unkindled's teachers, sharing the horrors of hexes and dark miracles as secrets with her savior with a coy attitude. Unconcerned with the linking of the fire, Karla was more focused on what she could say to rile up Greirat and his friend, Patches. That, and the next time her only student would come and learn another spell by her side.

But as time passed, she had come to the conclusion that her beloved apprentice would not be returning. Shedding a tear, the child of the abyss said her goodbyes to the blacksmith, her farewells to the thieves, and her condolences to Irina, who was so kind with her words, even if their abilities mirrored each other's. She'd stayed well clear of the blind woman, desiring to keep her body pure and unstained by her innate aura of darkness. The wretched child had resolved to find out why her student was so motivated on reaching the First Flame. For the legacy to be preserved? Unlikely. For the glory only found in felling the old lords? Perhaps. Or for the people that were on the Champion's journey through Lothric? Karla thought mainly of her student-turned-legend as she passed through the front doors of the Shrine, weaving a dark spell for the hollow who stood out of place, and disappearing into the world of Remnant. Her wandering path crossed with a friend out there.

But enough for now. This ancient tome on the residents of Firelink Shrine seems to have a page missing.

There is an old rat who you might see in Remnant, perhaps even older than the land itself. He does business not for the sport, but in remembrance. As a mysterious being from a clouded era, Greirat could hold a limitless supply of items within his inventory. But the rat was hard to find, his associates even more difficult.

In a building of a town, there was some trouble happening, right now. A representative of a faction in the new world was unhappy with his prices. The animal-man grew closer and bigger, but Greirat was no longer fazed from such acts anymore, one of the many gifts that came from his time with the Chosen Ash, who had been wreathed in bravery and steadfastness, allowing a petty thief like him to share in the great aura.

So, instead of turning his tail, he remained as he was, looking at his client through the eyes of his old hood, now out of fashion, apparently. But this man in front of him, he thinks that threatening the dealer will make it easier?

If the Ashen one had no souls to deal, then souls would be taken from the hostile residents of Lothric to make a deal. The Champion would never have drawn a blade in anger, it was only unsheathed to quickly block a speck of nothing, then quickly unblock, repeating the action until there was nothing to speak of. But this person had misunderstood, and with the appearance of an accomplice, the faction representative had exited, growling to himself as the wooden door closed with a bang, result of a forceful action.

Under his hood, Greitat chuckled at the witch, who appeared from a service door beside him, dressed as she had always been, with her black robes.

"We have an arranged service coming soon, do we not?" The woman had found the Rat someway in her journeys across the new land known as Remnant. Karla had decided to wait for a little while with him, then soon set out for the rest of the unknown land, in the same way that her savior did, just, a hollow mimic of what the Champion was able to accomplish.

The old thieve looked around the small building. It apparently was the old shop of a smith, so already there was a familiarity of the place. There were hooks along the sides, holding the weapons of choice for all kinds of fighters.

On one side, a large iron sword greedily hogs space for itself, it's blade was as long as a human's body, heavy as a stone, and yet, sharp as the era it had was widely used in.

The legendary Zweihander, a large straight sword that was rarely picked nowadays, now that most were looking to the use of the fancy, customisable weaponry, those who look for classic swords were far and few inbetween. Among those, it was never easy to wield this Ultra Great Sword, for it's weight is summarised with it's title. 'Zweihander', meaning this weapon requires two hands to wield effectively.

Assuming you were a generic human, of course. Besides, he was constantly moving around the land, scrounging for anything that could be of use, especially in areas where ruins were dense.

Perhaps a longsword would be more suited to the generation of hunters in training, before they find what they specialise in. Perhaps a DEX, or, with any luck, build into the STR/VGR category.

The front door swung open with a creak, and a young maiden with her hair a dark black stepped into the building, followed by a similar aged lady with her hair a peculiar green.

"Do you sell..." The woman who had entered first looked around the place. Finding only iron blades and common firearms, the disappointment could be evident in her voice. "any dust here?" She would have ended flatly, but she felt as if it would sully her voice.

"No. W-we only sell weapons here. No dust, but..." Now the woman was interested, first, she was looking anywhere but him, but once Greirat began to mention something akin to a replacement, he had her attention.

From behind the counter, he reached for something even less popular than dust, for the sources for this are limited to Greirat himself. He'd asked the old grandmother of Firelink for the ashes, and she graciously provided. The thief-and-merchant was able to produce the resins that the Ashen One had used on his perilous trek to find the Lords of Cinder.

But as of now, the merchant only felt comfortable selling the gold, charcoal, and pale pine resins. Human resin, a medium of darkness that could be used to enhance a weapon, but being born and raised in a place where fire was revered as a source of life and strength, with dark as the antithesis, it just felt wrong to drabble in the arts. Loretta would not be impressed, bless her soul.

Karla was different, the pyromancer had grown on him during his days at Firelink Shrine. He was all alone for an eternity in that cage, Greirat had forgotten what it was like to have something, anything. For all that was in that cage was a lonely rat, and a ring that he was foolish enough not to gift to Loretta earlier, as a way of saying thanks.

And to apologise.

What Greirat had placed on the counter was a golden powder-like substance in a small leather bag. She was getting impatient, eyeing the thing that resembled dust with a hidden curiosity, the question was already in the air.

"Now, how you use something such as this..." The merchant looked at his old friend, who already had a shortsword stretched towards him. Taking the melee weapon, he took a pinch of the yellow grains, and spread them on the blade of the weapon.

Still, the two girls held an expectant face, and he chuckled. It was all flipped the next moment.

What had happened in this next moment had convinced Cinder that she needed this substance, and anything like it.

So, with the power bestowed, she willed her orange eyes to become a bright yellow.

Hey guys, ive been getting reviews to change it up with the characters a little bit, so here it is!

Gotta love Greirat.

Please remember that i have only played a little bit of dark souls 2, and not dark souls 1. But anything about dark souls 3 i can do.

Thanks for havin a read m8!