The old Lothric Castle lay in gloomy silence, its once magnificent halls only shadows of their former glory. Darkness and decay had long since overgrown the walls, and right there, in the heart of this oblivion, Fellown strode forward at a leisurely pace. Beside him, in gloomy silence, trotted his new companion – Rüdiger, the Darkwraith.
‘Rüdiger,’ Fellown murmured through his skull mask, ’you know what to do.’
Rüdiger grunted in agreement, raised his cursed red hand and used it with unrelenting precision against the first knights to try and stand in their way. With a whirring sound, he tore life from their mortal shells as if it were a simple game. The knights staggered, powerless, while Rüdiger stole their last breaths. Fellown, calm as death itself, strode forward unimpressed. Fellown spun his spear with a lightness that belied his weathered appearance, driving the steel deep into the chest of another opponent.
‘How old-fashioned they are,’ Fellown sighed, while black wafts of mist danced out of his staff and drove the dead around him back to their death. “Always the same fight. Always the same souls. You would think they would have had enough of it by now.” But there was a certain morbid satisfaction in his voice. Perhaps it was the feeling of control that kept him going.
Rüdiger, now in a wild frenzy, smashed a group of knights to the ground, his red hand pulsating with blood-red energy. ‘Rüdiger, really… we don’t have to raze the whole castle to the ground. But… go ahead.’
They made their way through the great halls, past fallen banners and erstwhile symbols of power that now were but sad reminders of a lost era. Any creature foolish enough to approach them was swiftly dispatched by either Rüdiger’s brutal fist or Fellown’s dark magic. It was almost… peaceful.
When they arrived in the throne room, Fellown sat down for a moment. He leaned on his spear and looked at the silent walls around him. ‘There are no kings in Lothric anymore,’ he murmured. ‘Only decay and people who bring death.’
Rüdiger stood motionless beside him, like a silent guard, ready for the next order.
But their journey was not over yet. They continued their march into the shadows until they reached the old bridge that led to the archives. A dark figure was waiting there – a knight in heavy armour, but without a head. Fellown stopped, his gaze fixed on the Beheaded Knight, who stood on the bridge in motionless silence.
‘Oh, Rüdiger,’ Fellown sighed with a quiet laugh. ’Look, a headless knight… and he waits as if he still had something to lose.’
The headless knight moved with a dull metallic crunch, drew his sword from its scabbard and lumbered towards them. Black mist surrounded Fellown as he cast Miasma. The darkness crept across the bridge, enveloping the Beheaded Knight, who slowed with every step until he finally sank to his knees.
Rüdiger, full of unholy energy, pounced on the fallen knight with a snarling sound. His red hand glowed as he drained the undead warrior of his last vestiges of life. Fellown, a picture of morbid calm, watched the spectacle. ‘No head, no mind… and yet he thought he could stop us.’
When the bridge was empty and silent, Fellown raised his staff and continued towards the archives. ‘Come, Rüdiger. There are many more souls to be taken.’
With Rüdiger at his side, they disappeared into the darkness towards the great archives, ready to bring even more decay and death to the abandoned castle.
Follow Fellown on the dark path: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQRPy70pDgKWs5LRi6jJLBplA5QAZO2Ij
#DarkSouls3 #LothricCastle #Necromancer #Convergence #Fellown
PS: Yes, I know that when nothing exciting happens, you make it exciting 🙂
