THE ORIGINS OF GIANTDAD
"SALVATION IS RESERVED FOR THOSE WHO PASS THE TEST. IF YOU SURVIVE, AN ELEVATED EXISTENCE AWAITS. INITIATE PHASE 1, POWER UP THE BASS CANNON."
The words were faintly heard through the walls of the cathedral, which was now dead silent as the occupants listened intently. Pharis looked around. "What was..." She began to say, but it was too late, as the rasping demonic voice said "FIRE."
The bass dropped.
Casuls were blasted by pure hatred from beyond time and space, which erupted from the sword of the Giantdad in the form of immense sound waves and blinding lights. That day, the gankers knew their time had come.
Filthy fukn casuls crawled over the charred, distorted and completely un-recognizable bodies of their fallen brethren, soiled loin cloths weighing them down as well as the glare from the Giantdad. Giantdad took his time to funnel his hatred into each and every survivor at the 'Ganquette' before he slowly walked up to the nearest fgt, extended his arms in the well known "Well what is it?" pose and then proceeded to grab the thing beneath him. He held the barely squirming figure to his Mask of the Father and asked him in a grating, demonic whisper,
"WHAT RINGS U GOT, BITCH?"
The raggedy archer stared into the swirling bottomless pits of his eyes and only managed to soil herself again. The Giantdad sighed. "FGT"
With disgust, the Giantdad snapped the pitiful creature in half before moving onto the next. This one had picked himself off the ground and had survived the blast by diving behind a table. A smart one, but sadly he was just another Casul ready to be destroyed. The Elite knight held up his Crest shield with a wavering arm, much to Giantdads liking. He loved it when they fought back. Giantdad pulled out his Chaos Zweihander and swung it with almost no effort in one hand. The knight caught the flaming sword directly on his shield, which abruptly shattered with flaming shrapnel ricocheting everywhere and sending the knight hurling backwards with such velocity that he broke through two layers of wall, revealing the guard-house. The wrecked building was filled with the now beyond terrified vermin that were the other knights.
The closest looked at the body of his companion, Oscar, who could never roll properly, then dropped to his knees and sobbed in defeat, then looked at Giantdad. "But...why?..."
Giantdad stopped his Zweihander mid-swing from decapitating the kneeling things head and stared at the kneeling casul. 'Why?'
...
SOMEWHERE, DEEP IN THE DARK RECESSES OF THE GIANTDADS MIND
It started off hazy, like a dream that you could only just remember, but it was there. All of it was there.
He was working with his father, helping him sort through the dead man's belongings. "Dad, look at this!" said Mikkel, holding up a rounded steel ring which had a faint glow. "Well what is it! A ring? What does it do?!" His Dad bellowed at him. Mikkel shrugged, "It's probably enchanted to help carry all that armour the man was wearing." Mikkel gestured towards the dead soldier, one of the Bishop Havel's own men who wore the heaviest of all armours, which was practically hewn out of enchanted rock. His Father nodded, but didn't say anything. Anything he did say was usually aggressive, but then again, being hit on the head with a clerics mace tended to leave you pretty fucked up in the head. Mikkel placed the ring on his finger, and after a second he felt as if he was walking on air. Mikkel looked down to make sure he was still wearing his leather armour because now it was completely weightless.
On the other hand, his Father had a similar item, an enchanted mask from an odd fellow they ambushed a while back which made it slightly easier to carry your equipment. Father hadn't taken it off since he found it, but it seemed fitting after the 'Cleric incident', which left him just as messed up as the face on the mask itself. To top off the incident, the cleric was cursed with the Darksign, which led to Mikkel and Father becoming cursed soon after.
Mikkel looked off towards their target, which was only visible over the tops of the mountains in their way.
Lordran.
Once they were done, they were going to be undying legends. And everybody knows that the legend never dies.
A/N: Well, well, well, it seems that I'm back for another story, and this one literally originated in a message between my friends, so I'm not sure how it's going to turn out... but anyway, I'm now off to continue my Many Perspectives of Lordran story (finally, eh?) as well as maybe finish this one... if you guys like it! Catch y'all later!
PRAISE THE SUN!