The Undead Settlement now lies behind me, and as I move further along the Road of Sacrifices, the air becomes noticeably fresher. I relish the clean breeze—it’s almost soothing, which is more than I can say for the company. Before long, crow-like creatures, the Corvians, descend upon me, screeching with hunger and hatred. Sharp claws and fangs aren’t enough for them—they also wield daggers and scythes, as if the savagery of their beaks wasn’t sufficient. Nearby, a broken-down cage wagon hints at their origin—either they escaped, or perhaps they found something inside to eat. Judging by their desperation, probably the latter.
In a ruined structure, I stumble upon more travelers. One barely utters a coherent word, muttering nonsense as if lost in a world far beyond this one. The other, naively speaking of honor and the pursuit of Embers, makes me want to laugh. Honor? In this world? I couldn’t care less for their delusions. After a brief pause at a crossroads, I leave them to their fantasies and move on.
Soon, I descend into the swamp. Here, strange figures, bound to crosses, shuffle through the mire. These grotesque beings are more than twice my size, and the agony etched into their misshapen faces is palpable. Yet, even pain offers no salvation in this world. I deliver the mercy of my whip, the only kindness I know, and press on into a not-so-ruined structure. A knight guards a few pitiful trinkets and some embers meant for a blacksmith. He thought to challenge me with his oversized sword, but I’m far quicker. I couldn’t flay the flesh from his bones with my whip, but the red-hot kiss of my soldering iron did the job. Must have been quite warm in that armor of his.
I move further and encounter more lost souls, aimlessly wandering, clutching stakes like crosses they refuse to part with—pitiful, really. I chose to leave them to their suffering for now. Instead, I explored the ruined fortress further. Inside, more of these deranged undead awaited me. Some had even dabbled in magic, or perhaps were sorcerers in life. On one of the upper floors, I found a curious fellow—Orbeck of Vinheim. A sorcerer, not yet driven mad by this twisted world, but still useless to me. I decided to spare him, for now.
After scouring the ruined fortress, I ventured further, only to be greeted by two mercenaries. One wielded a massive club, the other a curved greatsword. Their armor gleamed with battle scars, but it didn’t take much to unsettle them when I started hurling knives. Amusing, really. It was even more delightful to hear their screams as I peeled their skin away with my whip. They didn’t last long.
A short descent led me to another bonfire, though my work here wasn’t finished. I turned back, returning to the ruins—there’s still something left for me to deal with. The Crystal Sage awaits. But for now, my path leads me to the Cathedral of the Deep.
The whole dark adventure of jailer Farah: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQRPy70pDgKUglWnmbEvEa7c-qy5S0je_
#DarkSouls3 #Jailer #SolderingIron #Whip #NotchedWhip #theRoadOfSacrifices
