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Never had an old man been so afraid of the dark.

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Some would call it treachery. Blasphemy. 

To deny thy lord? To be so outspoken when their place is as a weapon? A tool, to be used as seen fit.

His captain is right to chide him. 

"Indeed, Artorias. Thou art blind. Thou takes in the world around them and spites it."

It was dry. Crackling. It sounded like the snaps that would flow from a great bonfire.

The lord was laughing.

"And that is why thou art my finest, Artorias. Thy faith is unyielding. Thou would sooner perish than live in a world of dark and gray. 'The black knight', who spreads sunshine in his wake."

The Lord of Sunlight locks eyes with dark knight before the latter breaks the contact. The four knights all carried their own looks of shock and horror, yet Gwyn’s own visage was that of stone. 

"Artorias, thou art a passionate one." His voice is cold. There is no anger in his voice, it is merely devoid of inflection.

"In these dark times, thou hast mustered all of thy courage to slay dragons. Yet thou hast courage left to spare for talking back to thy Lord?"

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My subjects, I would like to formally apologize for my absence. From this day forward, you may rest easy knowing your Lord of Sunlight, Gwyn, has returned.

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The silver clad knight took arms. It rose its sword high above, letting its blade bask in the precious sun. Lightning and fire erupted from its edge, forming a great spear. 

The knight heaved it behind him, twisting its great muscles into a strong coil. The lightning in his hand sparked and cracked, eager to taste flesh. He whipped forward, body contorting in a perfect form.

The lightning went soaring, ripping through the air with a tremendous 

CRACK! towards the young squire. It barreled towards him, relentless in its speed and ready to destroy.

It slid right through the young prince's forehead, going on to impact with the scales of a massive dragon far beyond. The knight readied his shield once more and charged. He passed right through the boy as if he were air.

The figure in the flames has not broken its stare.

"...Gwyn...? Lord... Who is this... Dragons?"

He didn't even seem to hear over the cacophony of battle.

The air began to twist and waver once more...

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When the scenery changed, Samuel felt a strange feeling that was not unlike what he felt when he first met that Drangleic captain. No only was time shifting, but so was place. As the light faded, Samuel couldn’t believe what he saw. Everything seemed like it was taken from a storybook. He saw the figure in the fire once again, burning bright, and approached the being.

"What have you done and where have you taken me?!"

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The Lord of Sunlight locks eyes with dark knight before the latter breaks the contact. The four knights all carried their own looks of shock and horror, yet Gwyn's own visage was that of stone. 

"Artorias, thou art a passionate one." His voice is cold. There is no anger in his voice, it is merely devoid of inflection.

"In these dark times, thou hast mustered all of thy courage to slay dragons. Yet thou hast courage left to spare for talking back to thy Lord?"

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The Lord of Sunlight was transfixed by the raging inferno just yonder. The witches were marvelous things. They have perfected destruction into an art form. Even his finest smiths could not mimic in their work the perfect form that was their conflagration.

"Tis a good dream. One I am sure we have all shared, Ornstein.”

The sparks ceased crackling between his fingers. The witches firestorms were fading. The offense would dissipate for now, until the Silver Knights could repair their weapons. He and his four warlords would be needed soon.

"I have frequently dreamt of a world with more color. Though, I say this to you four in the strictest of confidence, perhaps we do not succeed?"

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"Gwyn." The serpent breathed in awe. "You... have returned...? It's been ages... I have missed you dearly, my Lord."

"My dearest Frampt, it was merely a fortnight's outing to the Thorolund Clerics."

A useful creature and a kind being, but he is oft quite excitable. 

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How curious.

The more humanity you have,

the more you have killed.

And so the less human you have become.

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Please reblog if you are Demon's/Dark Souls RP blog

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A tremendous roar and a gust of wind, the likes of which Samuel has never felt before, swept over the two of them. An enormous shadow eclipsed what little light there was for a moment, but then quickly left. High above, a stone dragon lumbered across the sky. It was heading for the smoke and ash.

The being of the flame was beyond fixated. It was obsessed with the images that were being played before him.

"I... do not know, young one."

The grey mist grew thick. It twisted around them like a suffocating blanket. But then it was gone, instead it was replaced with fire and death. Smoke was clouded all around them, little could be made out.

But there was no mistake they were in the thick of a battlefield. A silver clad knight, 8 feet tall at the least, was charging straight for Samuel. It reached the bonfire first, and curiously passed right through it unabashed. 

This wasn’t a dream. This was a nightmare.

Eyes wide with fear, Samuel scrambled away from the monstrosity on all fours. Grasping his blade, he turned around and faced the being of ash. 

"Just who the HELL are you?" Samuel cried out. He couldn’t fathom what he was facing, but this being couldn’t be friendly. "I have no quarrel with you, so just leave me be!"

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The being in front of him and the being in the fire both repeat him, forming a strange echo.

"Who am I."

Another step and the figure was upon him. One more and the figures stepped over Samuel. Ash and soot fell upon the young man as he traipsed overhead. A final step took the figure into the fire. What happened next could only be described as a man collapsing into the flame. With each step, the ash coated man fell deeper and deeper into the flame.

As the tip of his crown disappeared, a flash of light was released into the cave.

When the glow subsided, the cave walls had been replaced with a vaulting grey sky, punctured with towering grey arch trees. The din of battle could be heard way off in the distance. It was easy to see where, the towering black cloud of smoke gave away the position of the war.

The face in the flame was enthralled.

"First of all, I am no boy, and you will not call me as such." Samuel could feel the anger resurfacing within his voice. Is he really having an argument with a mirage within a fire? He needed sleep.

"I don’t truly know who you are, nor do I care. If came to amaze me or instill fear, you have failed in both. However, if your purpose was to give me anger and spite, then a job well done demon. I require sleep, and that is what I am going to do.." Samuel turned away from the flame spirit, setting up his rucksack to support his neck, and laid down in silence.

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An anon requested a Gwynevere and a Gwyn one so bam.))

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- Footsteps came from behind, but they were of no consequence. -

The young prince had missed an important detail from moments prior.

Turning away from the fire, the young monarch was face to face with a large, imposing silhouette. The figure boar its own crown, though it was tarnished beyond belief.

The form stepped closer to Samuel. The fire behind him faintly lit its face. It was hollow and ragged beyond anything he could have seen before. The hair of its beard was dried and straw like, and from in between the whiskers shown greyed teeth. 

It took another, haggard, step towards Samuel. Dust and ash fell from its robes and hair. Another step.

Samuel gave a short laugh at the figure in the flame. “Honestly, are you suppose to be a great demon? I have seen better from the hollows that wander the land.” Sighing, Samuel looked around the cavern. He was tired from the day and this was most likely either a trick by a nearby pyromancer or just his tired mind creating this fantasy.

"You’re in Drangleic, the great fallen kingdom where countless people come to in order to cure the curse. But, mind you, I have my own plans and reasons for being here. Now tell me who or what are you before I pour my water flask out on you."

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Never had an old man been so afraid of the dark.

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The Lord of Sunlight enjoys a chuckle at his Captain's antics. How rare to see the lion so unsettled. Of all the powers Gwyn had, he did not think frightening the Dragonslayer was one of them.

"Rise, Ornstein. Enjoy the benefits of youth whilst thou has it. There is no need for shame."

"Though it may not seem so, thou wilt find old age faster than thy would expect. You may find yourself in another cathedral years from now with thine own grey hairs."

Another chuckle as The Lord of Sunlight strokes his own grey beard at the last sentence. For added effect.

ashes-beneath-cinders said: Siiiiiiiiiigh… To be young again.

Ornstein nearly has a heart attack. Jumping at the sound of the Lord’s voice, he quickly drops to one knee, a fist over his heart. Damnation, he thought it was a Daughter of Chaos lurking, not his king! “My Lord, a thousand pardons!”

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