A swift parry knocked the broad sword to one side and a dagger was thrust where it had just been, its wielder forcing it in until the blade was fully enveloped by the cracked ribcage. The wraith fell, and the dagger was withdrawn. It gave out a low growl and reached hopelessly upwards its killer before the life fully drained from its eyes and it became still.
Another one had been bold enough to attack the keep today. The growing swamp must be encouraging them to advance as it's limiting our usual patrol routes. The undead settlement has nary as many curses as this blasted post. Armed and trained I may be, but patient I am not. I saw no point in waiting for the abyssal heathens to close in when my position was given, and I see no point in it now. The Ghru could surely hold off any remaining fiends long enough for me to talk some sense into the others.
"You, wait here, let none pass. Call for the rest if you can't defend on your lonesome"
These skittish beasts are nothing if not dependable despite their slim appearance. The obvious solution to our problem would be to let them handle any stragglers whilst we deal with the wraiths directly.
The watcher kicked open a set ornate doors, his frustration alerting his comrades inside. He approached them and demanded a more coherent command to carry out, lest they all fall to the encroaching dark. They began bickering amongst themselves, oblivious to the second watcher entering on his tail. Their conversation started spiralling into barely coherent accusations of incompetence as their voices raised, and the watcher behind them followed suit with his weapon.
"Treachery! End our quarrel lest we end ourselves!"
All at once they rushed towards the offender and quickly subdued him, two watchers grabbed hold of his arms whilst several others pinned down his legs.
"Hold him fast, I must remove his mask, by the gods look at his face! The Abyss has claimed one of our own. I shall send this one back to it"
A dagger was pushed deep into the watchers chest. A familiar growl escaped his lips before his body went limp. His tainted apparel becomes noticed by the group surrounding him as covered in a black substance, but unlike that of the swamps bed. They witnessed it leak from his body, like a pierced oak, and it started to creep towards them.
"Stay far, don't let it touch you! Before we are corrupted we must flee. The wolf blood is gone and the swamp grows ever more."
"And leave our masters corpse to rot within the grasp of the Abyss?"
"We have moved it out of reach presently, there is nothing left for us here"
"Nothing except the foundation of our creed"
"Our foundations are but poison! Did you not see the toxins leak from the tree tops? This wood is nothing but accursed and beyond defence."
"If you cannot defend from the Abyss then you are not fit to defend yourself!"
Blows were struck and swords clashed as many more rushed towards the sounds of conflict. In its midst, twas impossible to tell which warriors were on behalf of the Abyss or Farron Keep. For however long the battle was fought more corpses were made, and raised, then felled.
A cycle that was one of hopelessness and desperation.
The Ghru dared not interrupt this conflict for they had now encountered more opponents forcing their way towards the set of doors, sensing their Abyssal brethren inside the bodies of the watchers. Their cries echoed throughout the hall to an increasingly deafeningly degree as more fodder joined them in their blood fuelled skirmish. Their ferocity was met on equal ground as the remaining watchers stayed close and struggled against the seemingly impossible odds striking down brother after brother, again and again, and eventually, the fighters on both sides were diminished. The hall was now a floor of bodies with walls of blood, and the only things stirring were two remaining watchers.
"Is that all of them?"
"The dark knows no limits, they'll get up in time"
"Then what of our plight? Is it pointless?"
"As long as they stay against the edge of our blades we have our purpose. They must not be let loose against this land. Their savagery would be the end of it"
"Is it not already destroyed?"
"Whatever's left is more worth preserving than allowing it to be tainted"
"In that comrade, that we are in agreement. But wait, what is becoming of you?"
The other watcher had caught himself as he fell. Now on his knees, his breathing was heavy and corse. Stains of red and black was both seeping in and out him.
"It will not be long now before, I too, join their ranks"
"Please let it not be so. Too many have perished in this hall, this ruined heart of the swamp, I shall not allow you to join them, we are leaving immediately!"
"I would rather be cut down here, with my kin, so that I may be felled again with greater ease"
"Is it not possible for you to not be felled at all?"
"Did I not say that the dark has no limits? Now please end me before I make your duty a further hassle
"My duty...my duty is to desecrate a kingdom at the drop of a helmet, to slaughter its inhabitance at the slightest sign of impurity and now it is to murder my allies in cold blood. My duty is a loathsome task that I shall never partake in again."
"Please...you must...I can feel it my head"
The watcher was on his hands and knees. His breathing was now audibly pained and his tone was steadily getting lower.
"It's burning my mind...you must kill me...you must..."
"No! You must resist! The mere thought of spilling more blood is inconceivable, please do not let it turn you...comrade?"
The watcher had stopped breathing. He slowly got to his feet. His eyes were a shade of red. He stared directly into the eyes of his former friend, sword and dagger now in hand. And as his former friend readied his own sword and dagger, he too, was staring back.