Memories of the Found

“Oh you know, same old same old. Resting, wandering. I don’t do much. Greed does most of the stuff around here.” Sloth stated as he shrugged, decided to pull on his coat fully. He seemed to be mostly awake now. “You look like you’ve done something more than studying.” Suddenly Sloth popped a sly grin. “Tell me Verit, have you been working out? you look like you’ve grown.”

“Grown..?” Verit frowned slightly as she thought about his choice of wording. “I have been training to properly use a sword, when I am not focusing on my spells. It is a great work out, I suppose. Much more so than sitting around praying or reading.” Gods know, that’s all the priests would ever allow...

Sloth’s eyes widened a bit. “…you seem familiar.” He yawned, scratching his head. She was a young woman, but she seemed to know him. “Perhaps you can give me a name? That might ring my bell.” He motioned up, indicating the church bell above and chuckled at his joke.

It hadn’t taken Verit long to leave Anor Londo, and while she had other destinations in mind, there was a strong desire to stop at the church. Perhaps purely for nostalgic reasons, as the local area had been her sanctuary and home during the first… year? Year or so of her stay in Lordran.

Across the bridge from Sen’s Fortress and up the steps, and there she was. It felt strange, Verit mused. There was no desire to pray, no compulsion to give thanks to the gods any longer. So the sorceress stared for a moment at the altar that she had often knelt before, reminiscing about everything that had happened. 

Only then did Verit recall that, once upon a time, others called the church home. A small smile tugged on her lips as she turned to the stairs, making her way upwards. Hopefully they wouldn’t mind the visit. 

“Hello? Is there anyone home?”