Undead roamed the forest boundary, those that drifted from the main force wandering further and further until she came upon them like a strike of midnight. The choked gurgling and rotten stench of moldy corpses only drove her further. These poor wretched souls trapped in-between life and death were an affront to what she was, lacking even the consciousness that more powerful undead had.

There could be no change if the cycle was brought to a halt. She cut into the masses, driven by feral will alone. It was easy and almost comforting to lose herself in the rhythm of her strikes.

Duck, stab, lunge, cut.

Over and over until she felt the melody harmonize once more. Her breath was heavy and the air was thick with the miasma of battle, undead blood saturating the ground and leaves around her. There would be more but she had done what she could, she thought as the ground squelched under her boot.

The way she stalked through shadow in the dead of night, when not even the wind stirred. Regardless of the way her eyes burned and her joints ached.

It was holy

She could feel the melody of her song in the people of the village around her. Awake to asleep, reality to dream, day to night with her square in the middle.

It was divine

The aching devotion of a cycle repeated without fail, a ghost haunting each step through solitary streets. She moved with it, as natural as breathing, that silent duty to the last shards of a memory.

"Come on, sit by the fire."

Thank you so very very much to @zakunni for taking my commission of Nox Valerius here in all her tired glory!

Anything to keep herself focused.

It was never easy to bury a lover. Eight months of dancing around each other, careful steps forward and back as talks at sunset turned to sunrises. Two months of blissful romance, of peace, of a worthy equal cut short by cruel reality. 

But what’s done is done. 

Nox spun, flicking a dagger at a roughly painted target hidden in the branches of a nearby tree, as she continued her training, forcing her breath under control as her body flagged. She was still too weak. Years of training, studying, learning and failing and she was still too weak, too uncontrolled, too sensitive. There was no room for humor or wit on the battlefield, only the certainty of victory or defeat. Pressed into neat lines for a noble’s whim to kneel at the snap of a finger, to be a weapon of war used for amusement. 

Strike harder, kill faster, plan better, become more but bend to all who command. Sharpen the blade and toss it aside for cutting a finger. She had to be better somehow.

((Super dorky but I love how I can utilize Fashion Souls to turn Elden Ring into a dress up game for my ocs. But also; general Nox appearance and why she is just so unbothered by all of Bloodhaven

My actual build and kit for this run under the cut:))

The Grand Library indeed lived up to its name, shelves upon shelves of books arranged neatly into rows interspersed with areas for tea and study. Warm light spilling in from multiple windows dotted around the room, shutters thrown open to allow a faint breeze between the stacks. After her tea with Lady Sierra had ended Nox had lit her pipe and settled in to read before the feast…and remained there until now. 

Books of all types surrounded the table and chair Nox had claimed for herself, tactics, history, romance, geography, fables, philosophy, porn, cookbooks, and more. A pile of parchment scraps with small tidy writing was set next to an inkwell as Nox absentmindedly made notes with her right hand and turned a page with her left. 

It has been ages since she had access to so many books, months even! And there she hadn’t even TOUCHED the mystery novels yet! There was so much to learn and so much to explore within the pages that she ignored the dry click of her throat, the cold knot in her neck, the nauseous roiling of her empty stomach. She could tend to her needs after she finished her current hoard!