Under Construction

Beyond the door there’s another presence, the sound of heavy breathing and the occasional creak of ill-maintained armor. Lothric was obviously not alone. Lorian never strayed far and it had been him who’d opened the door as Lothric waited on the stairs, and it was him who was there to stop anything that tried to get inside.

"Prince Lothric... I understand your mistrust of me. But you have to understand at least this. I, Caitha, Goddess Of Tears, never wished to have you bred and raised like a pig for slaughter."

“No it’s the queen of Carim,” he snaps. “Of course it’s me. What do you want?” While he can’t clearly see the woman on the other side of the door, her stature suggests she’s some breed of divinity. How pitiful, were the gods themselves now crawling to his door to beg him to fulfill his duty?

"I do not intend to harm you in any way shape or form. I only wish to speak with you... May I have your permission to come inside?"

“What is it?” Lothric asks, though he sounds like he’s several yards away. If their visitor was polite enough to knock and not just pry the doors open like an animal, they might not be here with ill intentions.

"... Is that truly you, Prince Lothric?"

The Goddess Of Tears had not been to the kingdom of Lothric ever since its princes had been chosen to link the First Flame.  But now…  She had ventured to the city out of both morbid curiosity, and the desire to see if anything salvageable remained.  Caitha’s mind had been occupied with thoughts of Gwynevere and her children ever since she made it to the city, and moved through the crowds of Hollows towards the palace.  What had become of them?  She knew not the fate of the princes, nor the fate of Gwynevere herself.

Hollows in armor tread the dusty grounds, giving her a wide berth, whether by instinct or some consciousness that still stirred in their withered minds. Those with enough sense left raise their bony arms, pointing towards the grand archives, the tower that stood above the cluttered, senseless walls and towers. That was where she would find them. The massive doors are closed, though, looking for all the world like those of a linoleum. Carved representatives of the Pillars peer judgmentally down at her.