Author's Note: I've hardly put in a scrap of work into Iron Souls since the Crown of the Sunken King DLC came out, and now the distraction only gets worse with the Crown of the Old Iron King DLC being a thing! Help! I don't know what to do!
In the meantime, I decided I'd whip up a mainly combat-oriented one-shot in honor of one of my new favorite Souls bosses that debuted in the DLC, and, as thus, there are SPOILERS (!) within for Crown of the Old Iron King. If you don't want to be spoiled on one of the bosses, then this isn't your thing. But, if you do and/or have already played the DLC, feel free to stick around!
In any case...
The samurai with the Dark Mask clashed his katana against the blade of an Alonne Knight, straining to keep his hold as yet another of the purple-clad warriors rushed towards him. The samurai pushed forward, staggering the knight before him, and he battered the tall warrior with a flurry of slashes and finishing with a strong kick to the gut before whirling around and clashing blades with the other Alonne Knight, each slash and swipe colliding and sending sparks flying. The blood of other Alonne Knights stained parts ot the gray stone walls behind him, with their corpses laying limply on the grated floor that Wicker, the samurai, stood on. Targray's armor, which he wore, billowed out not unlike a longcoat as he fought, the Rogue Gauntlets on his hands simultaneously gripping the Berserker Blade which he had taken from the Mad Warriors before he entered the great stone hall, and the Bone King Skirt which he wore underneath Targray's armor moved about frenetically as he did.
Wicker glanced over to see the first Alonne Knight beginning to get back up, so he deflected a slash from his opponent's blade and bashed the second knight's helmet with the hilt of the Berserker Blade to stun him before moving to finish off the other knight. As the stunned Alonne Knight reared back, clutching his helmet and groaning, Wicker was already rushing towards the one that was getting up, blade in hand, and he met the oncoming Blacksteel Katana with his own, katana versing katana in a battle that ever-so-quickly leaned more in Wicker's favor, for he felt the knight tiring. He took the opportunity to kill and rammed his sword through the Alonne Knight's chest, smiling as he heard its death rattle. He withdrew his blade and turned to see the knight he had stunned rushing towards thrust forward to impale the samurai. Wicker would have none of it, for he sidestepped the attack and got behind the knight, jamming his katana through the back of its neck, and he heard it gurgle out its last breaths as it slumped to the grates below. The samurai withdrew his blood-stained Berserker Blade, and wiped the life-sustaining fluid off on the armor of one of the knights that lay at his feet.
As the Dark Mask-donning samurai passed through the doorway with a staircase beyond it, he thought back to the battles he had fought in order to get to this point. He had arrived at the Brume Tower after hearing rumors of a gateway to a tower created by the Old Iron King, and Wicker, of course, jumped on the opportunity. He had arrived at the tower to bear witness to massive structure, with his breath almost being snatched away from him at the sight of the many towers and of the massive, ashen landscape. He remembered the tension he had felt as he crossed the massive iron chain to the top of the Brume Tower, praying he wouldn't fall to his doom. He lit the first bonfire, and the rest was an adventure through the various towers, culminating in Wicker taking on the Fume Knight, Raime, and bringing the knight down singlehandedly and claiming the crown of the Old Iron King, feeling the faint warmth within.
Wicker felt himself bump against the fog gate, and he grunted as he regained his bearings. He took a Lifegem and crushed it in his hands, feeling some of his lost strength returning as the crystallized soul did its work. Wicker promptly felt ready to take on whatever lay beyond the fog gate, and his mind rushed with the curiousity of what just might lie ahead; a demon, or perhaps the Old Iron King himself before his corruption? Wicker satiated his curiousity by pressing his hand against the fog gate, and he felt it part as he stepped through-
The first thing that caught the samurai's eye was the reflective floor and the sunlight streaming in through the glassless windows. The second sight was the figure sitting on the floor, clutching a katana with a hilt as long as its blade. The mask on the sitting figure before him was rigid and seemed to bear the likeness of a large nose, with a long red ribbon streaming out from the back; and it wore armor that seemed distinctively Eastern, with gold adorning it. The figure stood, revealing itself to be an imposing samurai, with the katana being as long as the man was tall. Wicker felt intimidated by the massive man, yet felt a surge of respect, for the man was alone, as was Wicker. The two masked samurais clutched their blades in both hands, and bowed to each other.
Sir Alonne stood before Wicker, and Wicker before the katana-wielding knight, and they readied themselves for battle...
Alonne was the first to move, rushing forward with his massive katana raised. Wicker swung his Berserker Blade and clashed blades with the knight, only to have his blade smacked aside by the huge knight with a pair of lightning-fast swings, forcing the masked samurai to roll to the side as Sir Alonne performed a thrust attack that surely would have brought down Wicker. Wicker charged and hacked away at Sir Alonne's side with a series of vicious slashes, and found his blade clashing against the mighty knight's own, and they began to swing violently at the other, sparks flying hither and thither as each strike met the other, each flash of steel counteracting steel. Two men stood there in the light of the sun, dueling each other in glorious battle.
Wicker leapt away, and Sir Alonne did the same, with the latter moving at lightning speed, dashing across the arena to deliver a powerful upward slash towards Wicker, which stunned the samurai, leaving him open for a single powerful slash that sent the masked man staggering back. Wicker's vision flashed wildly, and he tried incredibly hard to focus on the powerful knight that towered above him. He swore to himself that this wasn't how he was going to go, that this wouldn't be how it ended for him. Wicker charged forward despite the pain in his chest, and began to swing wildly at Sir Alonne, with the huge knight swinging away as well, calmly counteracting each strike Wicker threw at him. Eventually, Wicker felt himself tire out, and Sir Alonne took the opportunity to perform a powerful swipe that knocked Wicker's katana from his hands, and the knight performed a thrust that would end Wicker-
But only to stop it a mere inch from his chest. The towering knight lowered his blade, much to the consternation of the masked samurai. Sir Alonne gestured towards Wicker's katana, as if telling him to pick it up and resume their duel. It was then that Wicker understood who he was fighting: He was fighting a knight who believed in honor, and that there was no glory in killing a helpless opponent. The samurai felt respect swell within him as he moved to reclaim his weapon, grasping the Berserker Blade in both hands once more. Despite the pain he felt, Wicker swore to finish the fight, preparing himself physically and mentally for Alonne's next onslaught.
Sir Alonne, of course, began to move, rushing the samurai with his massive katana thrust forward, his fleet feet sending him onward. Wicker raised his blade to deflect the attack, and did so with aplomb, staggering the towering man. Wicker took the opportunity to hack away at Sir Alonne's chest, wounding the honorable knight greatly. Sir Alonne backed away to regain his bearings, and Wicker swore he could have heard Alonne chuckling in amusement as he took up his fighting stance once more. He lowered his katana, and then flashed forward, performing a massive upwards slash that Wicker blocked with his Berserker Blade. The two men stared the other down as their blades ground together, sparks flying. At this point, the reflective floor was marred by the splatters of blood from each warrior, though the sun shone in as brightly as ever above a blackened sky.
Wicker thus broke the long grinding of blades by forcefully slamming his katana down, staggering Sir Alonne again. The samurai charged and leveled his katana with the knight's chest, but was forced to a halt as the towering knight quickly blocked the thrust with his own weapon. With a strong swipe, Wicker was sent staggering back, and he thus ran at the knight, beginning another mighty clash of blades, each strike sending sparks flying once more, each flash of steel countering steel yet again. Wicker felt as if the great knight would never tire out, and as their each and every strike struck together, Wicker believed he would drop dead from exhaustion then and there. However, Wicker finally deflected an attack from the knight, stunning him, and then Wicker thrust his blade forward...
...and struck true, burying his katana in Sir Alonne's chest.
The great knight sunk to his knees, dropping his colossal blade, laughing softly as he did so. Blood bubbled out from around the Berserker Blade, and Wicker knew he had defeated the knight that knelt before him. Wicker pulled his blade out from the knight's chest, savoring his victory that he had won through skill and the shedding of blood. Alonne stared at Wicker, and sank to his hands, prostrating before the better of the two before fading into ash. Wicker thought he had heard two words coming from the knight as he faded away into nothingness: "Thank you."
Wicker glanced to where the knight had knelt as he died, and saw a glimmering light on the reflective tiled floor. He knelt to pick it up, and saw what he held was a soul; but not a black, corrupted soul like the Bride of Ash, Nadalia, nor that of the Fume Knight, but rather a gold soul, a soul free of Dark. Wicker knew then what he had done; he had brought down a man who had been surrounded by dark, and had been pure enough to keep his control, and fought sanely until the very end. The samurai sank to his knees, holding the gold, pure soul in both hands, his Berserker Blade clattering to the floor. He felt himself begin to weep gently in a mixture of joy and grief as he both reveled in his victory against an equally skilled foe and as he mourned for the incredibly calm, peaceful knight who fought him with honor and had lost in the end.
As Wicker sat there on his knees, the sun behind him shone as bright as ever, and there Wicker knew that perhaps the pure knight would finally be at peace, free from the influence of the Dark around him, and it gave the masked samurai hope. Wicker looked away from his Berserker Blade and saw the great katana that Sir Alonne had wielded. The samurai stood and placed the soul in his bag before striding over to the huge weapon. He picked it up and inspected it, remembering the powerful man that had wielded it. He felt the experience behind it, and he felt the will to use it rise in him. He clutched the hilt of the katana in both hands, and strode to the balcony, quietly reflecting upon the battle as the warmth of the sun's rays enveloped him.
Wicker knew then that it would be with this weapon that he would free Drangleic from Nashandra, and perhaps cleanse it of the Dark as he became the next monarch to rule Drangleic...
Well, that ends that! Sir Alonne was perhaps one of my favorite fights in a Souls game EVER, and how else to document one of my favorite fights of all time in a one-shot that I pray strives to match the epicness of that battle between equals! I just hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it, and that maybe you guys can/will have experience(d) the battle against Sir Alonne.