#rottenbladeofmiquella

[rottenbladeofmiquella]

how about ☂️? (am @radiant-and-terrifying!)

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The world Malenia had awoken to was so unlike the one she had last known. Her people had been ecstatic when she had awoken from her long slumber, yet so few were left to bear witness to her return. And the stories they told! Of Rykard's madness, of Mohg's monstrous forces, of tarnished souls and the living dead, of all the ways her family and people had fallen to madness and despair.

Of Caelid.

Oh Radahn, noble brother, nothing I can say or do will make up for what I have inflicted upon you and your people.

The fact that she had played a not-inconsiderable part in bringing about these horrors was not lost on Malenia. She had marched her armies across the Lands Between, trampling all those that got in her way, and made war with Radahn. She had ruined her brother, inflicting upon both him and his lands an incurable blight. For nothing. All those lives lost, all those sacrifices made, just to fail in the end.

There was a debt to be paid. She had to do something, anything. It would not fix her folly, yet even so. She owed it to the magnificent man her desperation had destroyed. So it was that she had begun the long trek to Caelid, pausing only to bid her faithful to prioritize on living until she could return to them. It pained her to part with them so soon after their reunion, but she could not drag them into so personal a grievance. Not again.

The lands were as harsh and scarred as she had been told, and even more besides. Though the loss of her eyes had caused her to heighten her other senses to compensate, it was difficult to keep her bearings in a world so altered. It slowed her pace, but there was nothing for it; she could not afford to lose the path back to the Haligtree. She had sworn to return to those who had believed in her for so long, and she refused to let any more of those she cared for down. A task that would have been easier were it not for the multitude of monsters that desired to taste her rotten flesh, but...well, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Some things never learned.

It was on the long and winding road to the Starscourge's domain that Malenia encountered another sentient soul. There was nary a cloud in the sky that day, though the wind sought to blow hard enough to correct that oversight. The blustering breeze allowed her to hear the rustling of fabric, as well as the hollow clatter of metal. A helmet? No, rather, this sound...if she had not taken leave of her memory, was this not the sound of a prisoner's helm? Yet, a prisoner traveling on their lonesome in times as deadly as these?

She took pause for a moment. If even half of what she had been told of her surviving family was true, then this prisoner could be guilty of just about anything. It could be something heinous, certainly, but it could just as easily be something preposterous. It pained her to think of her blood in such a negative fashion, but the words of her people had been...unflattering. Perhaps this person before her had killed an orphaned child. Perhaps they had refused to do so. Who was Malenia, with all her mistakes and failures, to cast assertions of guilt against those she knew nothing about?

Malenia stepped forward, her longer strides allowing her to easily catch up with the other wanderer. She grabbed hold of her cape with her yet-flesh hand and held it up at an angle, blocking the sun from her new acquaintance. "Hail, fellow traveler. 'Tis a harsh day indeed to be wearing such a mass of metal upon your head. Though it may be a brief respite, allow me to grant you succor from the sun's gaze."

[bloodclawed]

@rottenbladeofmiquella from here

In his four-legged state, Codei never really knew where or when he was. He lived in the here and now, not worrying about the past or future. Mostly going off instinct, hunger, and curiosity, Codei simply did what he thought was right. In this case, warning this tall stranger that he was a very dangerous boy. No get close. Stay at distance!

Yet his curiosity got the better of him once Malenia held out her golden arm. The sharp pointy thing Codei’s wolf brain had decided was dangerous, folded back. So, safe? Safe-ish! 

Slowly, the werewolf stuck his neck out, trying to get a better whiff of her. Sniff snorf.  Paw for paw, he inched closer. There is a smelly smell to her, but also another, more interesting smell. That’s the one Codei wanted to know more of. Besides, having such a large creature hold out a hand like that? That deserved to be thoroughly sniffed! Enrichment! 

[fellomenking]

"Morgott, if you yet have the time for it, may I have a moment to confide in your thoughts?"

The Veiled Monarch of Leyndell turned, glancing over his shoulder. The Blade of Miquella stood behind.

With a breath, the Lord of Leyndell, under the guise of a human king, clad in robes of black, his right eye concealed by cloth, turned to face the red-haired swordswoman.

"... Speak. On my honor, none may hear what is to pass between us."

[love-me-broughte]

what’s peculiar about your soul?

your soul is... ALLURING

THE WANDERING BARD

It draws attention from every corner of the ether... People come from far and wide to marvel at it. Statues, clay figurines, portraits are made in its likeness... Songs are written of its beauty and splendor. Every day it is greeted by hoards of ceaseless, staring eyes. Every day it is treated with visits from its enamored guest. You try with all your might to communicate with them. To engage with them. To be more to them than an object on display- unthinking, unfeeling. They can not hear you.

tagged by: @arbredevies

tagging: @rottenbladeofmiquella @abyss-eyes @knightdialloshoslow

[rottenbladeofmiquella]

👫 

His deathroot had finally found the haligtree after so long. After his deathroot nearly freezing over within the consecrated snowfield, he managed to successfully locatethe small town of Ordina. The place that leads you to the Haligtree itself.

His deathroot had been carefully traversing through the rot, his eyes carefully searching for who he was looking for. Miquella and Malenia, his siblings he held dear before they left.

He would eventually make his way to the haligtree roots. He would lay his eyes upon the Haligtree roots where his sister lies.

She would know a visitor had arrived when she could hear the sound of dripping water and the buzzing of flies. If she could see, she would see a dense fog had formed around her.

He would walk into her arena. Newly resurrected body at peak health, but beyond corrupted by deathroot. His hair was now a dull pale blond, and his skin a sickly white with purple tints. His eyes a dark grey that were clouded over. He dawned a quickly sewn up black cloak with his old blue robes hidden underneath. His eyes would immediately lay upon Malenia, being the first to break the silence between them.

"Malenia... is is truly thee?" His voice seemed to echo through the room, as if he was closer than she thought.

The Prince of Death has arrived at the Haligtree.

@deathblightprince

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Malenia sat alone in the depths of the Haligtree. Never one for ostentatious displays of authority, she rested upon a humble wooden chair, though sized for her unnatural height. Her remaining rotting arm was raised, eternally stretched out towards the empty spot where once her dearest Miquella had taken root. There she rested, unmoving, kept alive only by the watchful vigil of those that remained.

Yet, the very instant that which did not belong intruded upon the inner sanctum, Malenia stirred as she had not in decades. Flies were not so unknown to the rotting, but they were not alone. Dripping water...here? And this cold, moist feeling...fog? In the Haligtree's heart? She knew not the source of this phenomena, but it was not welcome. Nothing that intruded on the place Miquella had most beloved ever could be.

Her body ached and responded slowly, complaining with even the slightest movement for such a long time of disuse. She stood even as every muscle screamed, walking to her dormant arm and helm. She carefully picked them up and placed them back where they belonged, setting her helm and blade into place as she turned to face the footsteps that now echoed throughout the chamber.

She had been prepared to speak, to give the intruder a name for their death, but her words died in her throat as that voice rang out. The Rot had not yet claimed her eyes when she had last seen her elder brother alive. Her senses had not yet heightened enough to take note of his unique presence...but there was no mistaking that voice. Her sword was half-raised as the peerless warrior was suddenly caught between her desperate desire to believe and her inability to do so.

For just a moment, she was a little girl again, finding solace and safety with her twin in her big brother's arms.

"...Godwyn?"

[rottenbladeofmiquella]

@fellomenking continued from here

If one looked at Malenia now, one would not think she was one who had only recently awakened from a decades-long coma.  Granted, her helmet obscured a good half of her face, but there was not enough of her face left unmarred enough to show any signs of tiredness even if she were bareheaded.  Yet she stood tall and firm, betraying neither exhaustion nor pain in her posture.  On the surface, The Severed appeared as she always had, the Unalloyed Gold of her prosthetics gleaming bright beneath the light of the Erdtree even now.

She gave her elder half-brother a nod at his gracious allowance.  When she spoke, her voice was still soft, strong, and refusing to show anything her words would not.  Her tone ever that of a warrior first and foremost.  “I thank you.”

She paused for a brief moment, gathering her thoughts.  So much had changed, so much unraveled, yet Malenia found it difficult to give words to what she needed to say.  This one part venting, in the end, and venting had never come naturally to one who had to live her life in constant control of herself.  Besides, to vent was merely complaining about one’s suffering, and what did the Blade of Miquella know of suffering compared to Morgott?

Even so, she soon found enough words to continue.  “I have spent these past years in a something of a stupor, recovering from my battle with Radahn.  Yet as you can see before you, I was roused from my slumber by an intruder in the heart of the Haligtree.  An assassin clad in black and wielding a blade touched by Death.”

Malenia allowed a small frown to cross her face as she continued.  “She silenced herself before I could claim any answers from her.  Those of our followers that remained have told me much about how the world has changed in my absence, but having experienced it for myself..."

She brought her hand up to her helm, taking it off and exposing her rotten visage to the world.  “Miquella is gone.  My people need guidance, yet without him, there is no end goal left to guide them towards.  All of our kin are dead, missing, or insane.  To say nothing of Caelid; I cannot even begin to comprehend the horror I have inflicted on Radahn and his people.”

She hesitated once again, and for the first time in so very long, she allowed her weakness to show itself.  “I do not deserve your leniency, brother.  You have remained stalwart and sane, despite all that life has thrown at you, despite all that I aided in ruining.  I erred so greatly, where you remained true.  

I...I do not know what to do.  Yet I must do something.”

[rottenbladeofmiquella]

He barks at her, but in a frightened way

She had simply been patrolling the land near Elphael when she had stumbled across the unusually large wolf. This was clearly no natural-born beast; even if its massive size had not been indication enough, the bright blue streak of fur down its back would have told all regardless. It did not seem truly aggressive as of yet; rather, it seemed more intimidated than anything else.

She was not sure what had triggered this wariness. Perhaps it was the simple unexpected nature of their encounter. Perhaps it smelled the Rot upon her skin, its unnatural taint offending the wolf's senses. Perhaps it smelled the blood upon her hands, the stain that never seemed to dissipate no matter how thoroughly she washed. Or maybe it was something as simple as an issue of territory, with her as the perceived intruder.

Regardless, she would rather not have the life of this creature on her conscious if she could afford it. She held out her prosthetic hand, her blade folded back so as not to present an unwarranted threat. There was no fear in her voice as she spoke. "Easy, friend. There need not be any cause for conflict between us."