#smouldring

"Pretty bold of you! But I like that. C'mon, settle in and try a fish."

I want you to drop a meteor on seluvis please ☺️ 

A sigh passes his lips.

from blood related prompts [accepting!!]

The first sound that echoes through the sewers’ foul walls is that of clapping — slow, rhythmic, impressed. Palms as big as a human’s form, claws thicker than any mortal femur, cracking the silence like breaking bones, reverberating off metal and stone. A frightening sound, a threatening one, musical as the demigod steps forward from the shadows of his altar, dark robes trailing loosely behind him. A featureless, horned head turns this way and that, examining the body of the foolish Tarnished that now lay slain before him. Blood pools around his feet. Claws click-clack in its crimson warmth. “Impressive, but not impressive enough,” he says down to the man’s body as it slowly dissolves to steel ash. “Pity, that thou must die in filth.”

For a moment, then, there is silence.

But then, a new voice shatters the same barrier, and it makes the Lord’s eyes snap up with force enough to be felt. Another Tarnished, is it? So soon after the first? Here, once more, in this foul sewer below the city?

What sort of Grace would guide them here?

It’s almost jarring, however — enough so to keep the Omen’s temper reigned — that the voice seems… concerned. Not prepared for a fight, not even threatening in tone, but simply…

What a fool…

Blood, is it? His own blood? That’s what this woman is concerned about? What a peculiar creature, seemingly concerned for the safety of a God — a creature of ill fate; the overseer of the future Mohgwyn Dynasty. What harm could a few gashes do to the Lord of Blood? Does she not know who he is?

Ah, but of course not. Nobody could.

Such is as Marika intended.

"Should have stolen a bloody horse from those sodding soldiers of Godrick," the former Carian knight grumbled under his breath as his boots splashed through the water of the lake swallowing Liurnia. He walked all the way from Limgrave to the Laskyar Ruins, using the guiding light of the remnants of lost Grace to steer him in the right direction towards sanctuary as twilight began to set in and the sun disappeared from the sky, far clearer here than it ever seemed to be in Limgrave, aside from the rolling fog that always accompanied the waters. He pulled the crimson hood around his neck up around his shock of curly dark brown hair as the chill began to bite at his face.

On dry land, he finally sat on upturned stone from the ruins. Terrible curiosity had lead the Tarnished to here, to see the inevitable destruction of his home kingdom that no doubt occurred since his banishment, as all Tarnished had faced. He hadn't anticipated that the area, which everyone knew to be sinking, would now be belong sea level, with all the lakes converging into one large mass of water. And in the distance, he could hear eerie wailing and the bright baleful chiming of bells. Though far from defenseless, he was more than content to just stay in the safety of the site of Grace, letting it bathe his lanky form in golden light.

Sitting with his back resting on a pillar, he realized how sore his feet felt after that trek and knew he would be paying for his haste whenever he slept. But, for now, he gazed up at the stars and moon, wondering if it was his imagination that they were so much duller in the sky of Limgrave. He sighed, at stared at his gauntlets, wondering what he was even planning on doing here, and if there was any point. He felt like a ghost haunting the area, unable to move on from the crumbling of the Carian Royal family, after Radagon had left Rennala not even a sliver of her former self. She cloistered herself off, away from her knights, and with no leader, they simply... dissolved, like gold in aqua regia.

"I don't know yet. Hast thou decided that maybe we shouldn't fight?"