Abys watchers

Assault on Carthus

Then out spoke brave Horatius, the Captain of the Gate:
"To every man upon this earth, death cometh soon or late;
And how can man die better than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods

- Thomas Macaulay

FULK! FULK! WE ARE BEING FLANKED! Captain Fulk of the legion of Farron ran through the town now swarming with the abyss and its foul monsters. Taking a team with him they battled street to street with their great swords and daggers, working in coordinated strikes against overwhelming numbers. Creatures in nightmarish form that may have once been human but were no longer. With inhuman screams and oversized limbs, razor sharp claws that left gouges in armour and raked flesh. Hands that could pull a man apart and armed with rudimentary weapons. Fulk's team battled and linked up with another unit as they held the rear guard. Every time he brought his great sword down it cleaved through another beast spraying black ichor as it would fall, almost in half. "Arturo!" Screamed Fulk. "Take three men, move two blocks south and slam into them from the side!" Arturo nodded, his pointed helmet that all legion members wore emphasised the motion of acknowledgment as he selected three others and rushed down a side street.

Fulk remembered how beautiful the town of Decca used to be, bustling with life and people that had hopes and dreams, vibrant beautiful trees and small animals that inhabited them. This was long before he became undead and a member of the legion. Now the abyss sprung from it and left nothing but a nightmare in its wake. Right beside Fulk one of his men was grabbed by one of the lanky monsters and torn in half at the waist and his torso tossed into a fire. Undead could come back from near any wound even being burnt to a crisp, they would resurrect at the bonfire, but to be dismembered like that and separated… there was no coming back from. Fulk in anger rammed his blade into the belly of it, completely impaling it and using his dagger he cut its throat, using enough strength to nearly decapitate the monster, and tossed it to the ground as his men advanced. Just as the tide of battle looked to be changing in their favour a giant rounded the corner. Tendrils snaking around its body and the demonic head of a large black writhing serpent over its shoulder. "By the wolf, how are we to defeat that?" Hawkwood asked. Fulk responded. "With everything we have, now charge forward!" The legion surged forward to take on the mighty creature. With one sweep of his hand the giant sent ten members sprawling in the air to slam against buildings, walls and to fall impaled on other items. Their swords were having some effect as they hacked away, charging in and ducking out like a pack of wolves. Against the onslaught the giant was having a tough time for even when he would crush one under his foot, the legion member would rise again and continue the fight. Just when Fulk though that they were never going to bring this giant down, two purple spell darts slammed into the giant, rocking its massive body back as it roared in pain. The giant went to take a step forward to where the spells came from, but another salvo hit the giant, toppling it over. Legion members scrambled to avoid being crushed as it fell back into the street. The snake head attached to the giants body, the manifestation of abyssal corruption, continued to snap and attempt to bite at the legion members but it was quickly dispatched by Fulk. With it decapitated the giant lay still and dead. Fulk looked around to see where the spells that brought the giant to its knees came from. A crystal sage wearing a voluminous black robe with a large back wizard's hat, in his hand was a large crystal ball and the sage was approaching Fulk. "Thank you for the help sage, it would have taken us much longer to hack that giant down." As he jerked his thumb at the giant behind him. The sage nodded in acknowledgment. "And I would suspect with a few more injuries." Noted the sage as a legion member was being hauled off a shaft of lumber that had impaled him when the giant sent him flying into a house. Fulk looked over to where the sorcerer mentioned. "Hmm a bit of estus and he'll walk it off." The sage chuckled at the remark. "Being undead does have its benefits, though I will say, though we do not get any prettier as we sustain injury and age." Fulk could only agree, as he may look like he is in his mid-twenties but in truth was close to one hundred and fifty. There was always a few that died in combat against the abyss but the most painful ones to watch were those that succumbed to the abyss and had to be put down by the followers. A runner from the front lines came towards both Fulk and the sage to bring the latest information. When the runner arrived he saluted both Fulk and the crystal sage. "Sir. Report from the front lines. We have cleared the abyss from our sections and reports have come in from the left and right sections of the town that the abyss creatures have been exterminated." The crystal sage butted in "are there any reports of survivors of the town who have not been infected?" Fulk already knew the answer but let the runner say it for him. "No. NO reports of survivors." The mage nodded. "Understood." Fulk turned to the men in his section of command who were now standing before him awaiting the next order. "Men, the battle is won. We link up with the others and return to the keep. The men started to walk back to the rally point. Just as Fulk turned he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Hawkwood great sword in one hand and shield in the other instead of the traditional knife. "Yes Hawkwood?" Hawkwood looked Fulk in the eyes, full of shame and regret. "I am leaving the legion. In the morning I'll pack up my things and be on my way." Fulk was sadden to hear this as Hawkwood was a comrade and a friend. "Are you sure? Or is it a fleeting notion?" Hawkwood looked like his determination faltered for a moment then he answered. "I am sure of my decision to leave as there are things I must do, and I never truly belonged here. My shield is a constant reminder of that."

Fulk understood and knew he could not sway his friend from the chosen path, for as much as he wanted to. "Before you leave at least share a drink with me at camp tonight." Hawkwood smiled and agreed to the drink as a last goodbye. That night Fulk and Hawkwood drank until both passed out, Fulk secretly hoping that his friend would change his mind in the morning. Alas when he awoke, Hawkood was gone along with bedroll and equipment. Fulk partially thought Hawkwood the fool and coward for leaving, little did he know that Hawkwood made the smartest decision in the legion.

Fulk packed up his equipment and got the men in his command ready for the rest of the march home. Getting back to Farron keep and being greeted by the watch dogs was refreshing as there was a need for rest and recovery. Training of new recruits began again, every now and then Fulk would take a journey to the undead settlement to have a drink and chat with friends. One morning Fulk awoke to a knock at the door and a messenger informing him that there was to be a grand hall meeting called by the Grand master in an hour. Fulk put on a tunic, trousers and his boots, then made his way down to the grand hall. When he got there other captains and junior ranks were there waiting for the announcement. Fulk asked a few of the captains as to what the meeting was about but all he got was speculation. The doors to the hall opened again as the Grand Master Artorias walked through the hall as his two generals accompanied him, the entire legion as present and they all stepped aside for Artorias. Fulk knew Artorias was not the man's real name but an adopted one for whoever became the new Grand Master as he made his way to the front of the crowd. He dawned the armour of their patron, Artorias the wolf knight, in the azure blue cloths, silver armor and wolf helmet that had a black ponytail attached to it. He waited for silence in the ranks before he spoke, and when he did it was with the strength of his command. "Our world is slowly coming to a close. We have had more reports of the abyss creeping up and the bonfires fading, but before that we have one last mission." The room was tense in anticipation of what was to come next, the grand master continued. "We set our sights on Carthus. High Lord Wolnir has been practicing dark pyromancies that has lead him to harness the power of the abyss." Everyone looked at each other with a bit of worry as they all knew that Wolnir was obsessed with power and the skill of their swordsman were legendary. Being undead had its advantages but it still hurt being stabbed and hacked at. The thing that Fulk worried about is if their blades were infused with abyss. It would not kill them… but it would turn them into monstrosities that would attack their comrades and have to be put down.

"This may be our hardest fight yet as Carthus Is known for their skilled warriors, and who knows what Wolnir has for traps and defences to his kingdom. We cannot let the abyss spread and with what he is experimenting with, he cannot be allowed to live. I would suspect that the citizens are compromised as well or will aim to fight against us. Either way we shall crush them before us and drive out the abyss. Pack your gear as we start our march tomorrow at sunrise." The men of the legion did not cheer or shout but simply gave a salute as their grand master exited the room. One of the other captains came up to Fulk. "Carthus? Really? Artorias has to be joking, the place is heavily defended and Wolnir is no man's fool so he might even expect this….." Fulk looked at the captain. "He may be expecting us, and if he is, he is probably wearing his brown pants. Now I would think we have a briefing on plan of attack, maps a coordination. So I will see you there." The other captain thanked Fulk for the conversation and departed. It did not take long for Fulk to receive a message that a Captains meeting was to take place after lunch to discuss the upcoming invasion.

The Day continued as usual. Training, running through simulations, correcting any mistakes in the form or stance of his men while they trained with sword and dagger. Lunch hour rolled around and Fulk ate with his men, the meal being chicken, corn and mashed potatoes was full of herbs and spices for flavour. The food was a test, not just nourishment but to see if you were starting to go hollow. Hollows did not eat or enjoy the taste of food, did not even care about it. Fulk had seen the signs before in others, in friends and knew that it would not be long till the followers ended their suffering for them, lest they endanger the rest of the legion.

Fulk finished his lunch and went to the officers meeting. The halls of Farron had been home to him for many decades now and were more familiar to him than that of the home that he left behind… The family he left behind. When the curse manifested he knew that he would be stripped of his land and titles, leaving his wife and children in the cold and destitute. He ordered his servant to bear witness to him signing a document stating that his first born son would inherit the lands and properties of his domain as a nobleman and would be the new lord of Hadrigoth when he came of age. His wife Magda would be the regent and look after their children. He explained to his wife that he would fake his death and go into exile never to return. The next day he had died the tragic death of falling off his horse and snapping his neck.

That was close to one hundred and twenty years ago. Fulk had visited from time to time, always disguised and would check up on his children from a distance to know they were doing well. Those children had grown up and had children of their own who had children in turn. Thankfully the curse had not passed on to them, otherwise Fulk would be paying an official visit.

Taking a seat in the officers meeting hall he waited for the other forty unit captains, two generals and one Grand Master to arrive. Sure enough, in time every one had gathered, taken a seat and awaited for the grand master to discuss battle strategy. Grand Master Artorias walked to the front, pinning a map of the city of Carthus and thus began the discussion of what could be their last mission.

The legion stood before the closed gates of Carthus. Doors that had not been breached in over two hundred years still standing firm and resolute. At the front of the legion stood Grand Master Artorias in the wolf knight armour, tall and powerful, great sword resting over shoulder and whilst not saying anything made a simple and powerful statement to Wolnir. "I am coming for you and I will not be denied."

Artorias raised his left hand and dropped it. Overhead a flurry of spells slammed into the gates. The wood groaned and splinters flew from the impact but the gate stood resolute in defiance of the initial barrage. In response a laugh, deep and dark came from the other side. "Fools! You think yourself superior to me? I have crushed kingdoms and kings greater than your rag tag militia. Try not to go hollow while you bang your heads on my door." And then there was silence…..

Artorias growled raised his left hand as the signal for another barrage of magical blasts. Atrotias yelled in a commanding voice over the spell blasts assaulting the gates. "POUND THIS DOOR UNTIL IT IS NOTHING BUT SPLINTERS!. SECOND DEVISION! BRING UP THE FARRON PITCH AND FIRE, WE WILL BURN THIS ACURSSED GATE DOWN AND REMIND WOLNIR WHY WE ARE FEARED!" Twenty men of the second division came forward carrying sacks of Farron pitch, different from normal pitch and tar that most places used, this was specially developed to burn with more strength and near impossible to put out. As the pitch bags were tossed at the gate, the sacks broke splattering the black liquid contents all over the wooden gate and a torch was thrown to ignite it. With a fwooosh the gate went up in bright hot flames and the spells continued to find their mark. The laughter started again. "YOU BRING FIRE TO A PYROMANCER'S HOME TO USE AGAINST HIM? HAHAHAHAHAHA." The fire lurched from the gate forming tentacles to ensnare members of the legion turning them to cinder in mere moments. The entire front line stepped back out of reach of the flame tendrils. The next round of spells found the weak link in the wood and punched a man sized hole through it and the following one tore the rest of the gate asunder. The flames guttered out having nothing left to burn on the stone floor. Past the gate was darkness, as black as the night its self with a chill that was colder than death.

In that darkness a pair of red eyes were spotted, then another and another. Soon there was hundreds of red eyes looking from the darkness, and they starred to move towards the gate.

Fulk saw them. The swordsmen of Carthus, consumed by the abyss with their red eyes and gaunt features. Long curved two handed blades in their hands made perfect for deflecting attacks and twirling around foes. What little armour they had in a chainmail shirt was covered by a raged dark cloak. One of them let out a baleful scream, then another, and another, within seconds they were all letting out the same wretched scream. One of the screams was cut short as Artoria's great sword cleaved through one and then the rest of the legion pounced on the foe before them. The fighting was vicious and bloody. Fulk found himself on the defensive in some of his individual duals with these swordsman. Some of them would quickly dash around him making it look like they disappeared, in times like those it was his armour that saved him from a slash that would have wrent him in two. Bringing his dagger around Fulk slammed it into the swordsman's skull, killing it. Fulk noticed a dark sheen on the blade and picked it up for closer inspection. As soon as he touched the handle on the blade he felt the abyss, it called to him and tried to seduce him to let it in. Fulk dropped the curved sword in fright and anger and looked around in stark realization that quickly turned to horror. Even though the Legion was carving through the carthus swordsman like a hot knife through butter, what he saw happen to his brothers who received mortal wounds. Though the blades could not kill an undead, for every legion member that was impaled or received too many wounds from the enemy swords would fall and come back up possessed by the abyss. Fulk fought his way to one of his subordinates. "Alexios. Get the follower units and bring them to the front lines, we need them to incinerate any of us that turn to the abyss!" Alexios nodded and sprinted to the back of the force. Fulk continued fighting and for as many Carthic swordsmen he slew he would cross blades with a former friend and have to lay him low. Those duels were the hardest he had ever fought as he trained these men, ate with them, laughed and drank with them; and now… now he must slay them to buy time for the followers to purge them and keep the rest of the legion safe. With crashing Farron forged steel watchers clashed with each other, though only a few had been turned it still created enough of a diversion for what was left of the Carthic swordsman to take a bite of the legion. What took a few minutes for the follower's detachment to arrive and start their grisly work of cleansing the legion felt like an eternity to Fulk.

Fulk was covered head to toe in gore. He saw some of the cloaks of the fallen infected and how inky tendrils formed on them. Fulk felt a consuming hate burn inside him fuelled by his disgust of the abyss and the sadness of losing friends. This hate burned away any weariness he had earlier felt. Out of the fifteen hundred legionnaires and two hundred followers that entered Carthus, so far fifty followers had been slain and one hundred legionaries had been lost to the abyss and his was only the first fight. Fulk heard Artorias call to rally his troops to him and for the captains to come to the front. "Captains. After witnessing how these dogs fight us with the abyss in their weapons, each of you will have a detachment squad of followers in your company. Should any of you fall they will be there to ensure you do not rise with the abyss in your hearts. We have a long way to descend in this miserable pit of a city. Keep your wits about out you, and remember, the mission is all that matters." With that Artorias dismissed his captains and lead his army forward into Carthus. The walls and stone work of the city were bear and Spartan. There was little in the way of comfort to the eyes. In the walk ways, Pots and jars lined the walls and in some sections pilled everywhere. All the companies had spread out to try and cover as much ground as possible.

Fulk had seen no civilians which he thought was strange considering they were in a city. Aside from the clink of armour, shuffle of boots on the ground and the odd remark there was no sound from the city, not even the wind made any noise. Looking to his left Fulk gazed out unto the city from his position in the hall. From what Fulk observed the only life in the cavernous structure was from the legion. One of the soldiers walked over to the railing to see how far down the city extended and what may be ahead of them. From around the corner a man like being walked out to face Fulk, in nothing but rags it shuffled towards them carrying a torch. A score of paces away it took notice of the soldiers and screamed in rage, flinging the torch at a cluster of jars. The torch burst one of the jars, combusting it and the other nearby jars with it. The explosion blasted several men over the railing to their doom several hundred feet below. Fulk lead a charge down the hall towards the man. The man stood there as Fulk ran at him full tilt and as he got closer he saw a black orb in its hand extend into a whip. As thin half-starved looking man flung the whip out, the darkness took on the form of a line of black fire that scorched the ground and hit the man on Fulk's left, incinerating him in a dark burst of flame, leaving nothing but ash. Fulk dove low with his great sword taking the man's legs out from under him as the soldier behind him came over top with his great sword, crushing the pyromancer with the edge of his blade and the force of the strike nearly cleaving the Carthic in half. Fulk turned to see how many had survived the encounter, out of the hundred and twenty he had lost ten.

If just one of these wretched pyromancers could remove ten from him he would hate to encounter any sizeable force of them. Fulk pressed on, he had lost small amounts of men to traps and some ambushes from small units of pyromancers and swordsmen. The worst trap was the large skeletal boulder that came crashing down on them while they were descending a flight of stairs. This took out a dozen of his troops that were launched over the edge into the darkness below by the force of the massive boulder hitting them. During an ambush of swordsmen Fulk had to slay a handful of his comrades that had been corrupted. A few more had turned to the abyss unprovoked and with little to no warning. The follower detachment he had, saved them from losing more men as they seemed to sense when a member was about to turn and would walk closer to that member to cut him off from the others. Fulk was starting to worry that they may be playing against the clock for if sections of his men would at random be corrupted by the abyss due to its strong presence in Carthus, how many would he loose just in getting to High Lord Wolnir and how many have the other captains lost on their paths? Would they even make it to Wolnir? Fulk shook the thoughts from his head. He could not afford to think like that, his men could not afford him to think like that. The mission was all that mattered.

After finding their way down the maze that was Carthus, Fulk had not linked up with any other companies and his was now down to two score in members. If that his all he had to face Wolnir with then he would find a way to make it work. Before them was a rope bridge to the last section where his instructions told him High King Wolnir would be

Below the bridge was a great chasm where Fulk saw at the bottom was many of his fallen comrades, in great piles they laid, looking as if they were just dumped there from above. "No respect for warriors, our men deserve better burial than that." Fulk swore that when he finished this he would forge new swords and plant them as burial markers for every last one of them. They crossed the bridge and walked through up the stone carved steps that were cut from the cave its self and into the great court to find Grand Master Artorias fighting High Lord Wolnir who was gigantic in size. In the back were two sages who were chanting a spell. Wolnir whirled his straight sword over head as he shot a dark fireball towards Artorias. Fulk charged in to assist by parrying a slash. Artorias yelled at Fulk. "Stay out of this, Pup! This is my fight alone!" Fulk ignored his master's command, he wanted vengeance. A torrent of rage filled FUlk as he brought his wrath to Wolnir. The onslaught pushed Wolnir back and threatened to topple him. High Lord Wolnir ignited himself in a black flame and started his attack. The power that Fulk was defending from was too much and threated to crush him. A sweep of the giant's blade that was now aflame sent Fulk sliding back several paces after blocking it with the flat of his great sword.

"I SAID BACK!" Artorias yelled as he grabbed the back of Fulks cloak and tossed him onto the floor out of his way of the fight, to take on Wolnir. When Fulk got back up and only then did he fully see what was going on. The silver skull goblet in the center of the room on a pedestal and the two sorcerers chanting were trying to trap Wolnir into the goblet, Artorias was the distraction. Fulk had only heard about it done a few times over the years but they were always at great cost. Artorias always thought the cost was in the amount of mana it drained from the spell casters. "GET YOUR MEN OUT OF HERE AND RUN!" screamed Artorias as the chanting stopped and Artorias allowed himself to be impaled on Wolnirs sword and held onto it. That last words he heard Artorias say was "For the ashes of his fathers and the temples of his gods" Fulk was the last of his men out of the room when it went pitch back and Wolnir screamed in high pitch fear. "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Wolnir was being dragged into the goblet with the now limp Artorias giving no resistance, not even the spell casters were seen in the room. Fulk and his men raced back through Carthus looking for an exit. They arrived in a court yard still inside the cave structure, with the double doors leading out, wide open and Hawkwood standing in the middle with both hands on the doors. The look on Hawkwood's face was not of joy but of sadness and shame. He began to close the doors and Fulk sprinted to stop him but only reaching the doors in time to hear the bolt on the other side slam into locking position. Fulk slammed on the door. "WHY HAWKWOOD? WHY WOULD YOU LOCK US IN HERE!?" Hawkwood's reply was that of a broken man. "It's for the best, to keep us all safe my brother. Please forgive me" Hawkwood walked away with is head slumped and feet dragging, swearing he would never return to this land.

Fulk turned around to hear one of his men screaming as he was impaled by a comrades great sword. The remaining followers were dead. It was Arturo, covered in the gore and vicera of his comrades looking back at Fulk with the baleful rid eyes of the Abyss as he charged at Fulk….

Several centuries later

The Ashen one stood before a large double door that was locked from the outside. And he could hear the sounds of battle raging inside. Hawkwood looked at him angrily. "I told you. I did not want to come here."