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Chapter 5
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Godrick the Grafted
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The Tarnished stood before the fog wall alongside Nepheli Loux, a fellow tarnished he had encountered on his adventure through Stormveil Castle. This was it. Behind that golden fog was Godrick the Grafted, demigod and shard possessor. This battle would truly decide whether or not he was worthy to walk the Golden Path.
"Are you up to this, Wolf?" Nepheli teased, giving him a friendly nudge with her elbow.
The Tarnished grinned slightly under his helm. His immortal body allowed him to throw himself against his foes again and again with no consequence beyond the momentary pain of the experience. Every time he passed, his corpse would simply dissolve, only to be reassembled at a site of grace as if no harm had ever befallen him. However, the Tarnished still worried that, should this fight go wrong, his journey would end here with his arms stitched onto a crazed old man. The outcome was unlikely, but it still unpleasant. Despite his potentially terrifying fate, though, instead of feeling nervous, he felt invigorated, his body twitching, excited for battle.
"Of course," the Tarnished said, taking the enormous grafted great sword in hand, "As you said, the winds run cold with Godrick's deeds. He is no lord worthy of a great rune."
Nepheli nodded, "Excellent. Then let us relieve Godrick of his limbs. Every single one of them." With that, two warriors, bodies prepared and minds steeled, stepped through the fog and into the courtyard.
The opening before Godrick's throne was more akin to a graveyard, with tombstones littering each side of the path ahead. The rotting corpse of a long dead dragon immediately caught the Tarnished's eye, its body unceremoniously skewered on a tall stone pillar and its head drooping down limply. There, standing before the dragon's corpse, was the decrepit demigod himself, a large cloak draped over his hunched back and an enormous bronze axe lodged upright in the ground by his side.
Reaching a large, deformed hand towards the dragon's corpse, Godrick mused to himself, "Mighty dragon, thou'rt a trueborn heir." Running his hand down its jaw, almost lovingly, he then rasped, "Lend me thy strength, o kindred. Deliver me unto greater heights."
While he never thought himself below sneak attacks, the Tarnished figured that, despite how horrid and monstrous the demigod was, his status as a descendent of Queen Marika and Godfrey the First Lord owed him some level of decency. The Tarnished lifted his sword, pointing it at Godrick. Then, in a tone cold and imposing, he issued his challenge.
"Godrick the Grafted, descendent of Godwyn, the son of Queen Marika and Godfrey the First Lord! For long enough you have terrorized Limgrave and its people. The torture, the graftings, your envious lust for power, it all ends here. In the name of Queen Marika and the Greater Will, I have come for your head!"
Godrick, upon hearing the Tarnished's declaration, slowly turned to face him. "Well, a lowly Tarnished, playing as a lord…" The demigod stood tall and allowed his cloak to slip off his back.
While the Tarnished had heard stories of the horrors Godrick had inflicted upon his own body, such tales did not do the grafted monstrosity justice. Upon his back were dozens of arms jutting out repulsively, all morbidly discolored. His very body, the Tarnished could see, was but a mass of stitched together limbs and torsos crudely masquerading as muscle. Without his divine blood, what little of it that he had, the Tarnished was sure that the demigod would have simply suffocated and died under the weight of such corpses. Truly, Lord Godfrey would have been disgusted to see such a creature clinging to his family tree.
Godrick took his axe in both hands, or at least the two largest ones, and raised it in front of him. In a low voice, he proclaimed, "Thou knoweth not who thou speaketh to. I am the lord of all that is golden." Then, slamming the axe's head down to the ground, he shouted, "I command ye both, KNEEL!" With that defiant command, the niceties were over.
The Tarnished and Nepheli rushed in as Godrick lumbered towards them, dragging his golden axe along behind him. Despite being the weakest of the demigods, Godrick was still a force to be reckoned with. He possessed surprising speed, despite his size and lack of balance, juggling a smaller axe between arms for a series of quick swings before bringing the large golden one down for a massive hit.
Nepheli, to the Tarnished's relief, was a capable fighter, her skills fitting for a self-proclaimed warrior of the badlands. She was able to dodge blows effectively and had a keen eye for openings, unleashing a flurry of slashes with her battle axes when the time was right. The warrior woman was certainly able to hold her own, allowing the Tarnished to focus solely on his own survival.
The Tarnished fought conservatively at first. He dodged and blocked, carefully eying Godrick's attacks and taking note of any pauses or hesitation. As he avoided Godrick's assault, he quicly realized that, while Godrick certainly wielded the raw power of a demigod, he clearly lacked Margit's skill and keen wits. Godrick had little control over the strength his many grafted limbs leant him. Thus, after each barrage, he had to take a moment to recenter himself and regain his balance, as he could not maintain it for too long. The Tarnished determined that this was the best opportunity to capitalize on and waited patiently for the next opening.
Sure enough, just as the Tarnished predicted, after several wild swings, Godrick began to lose his balance. The Tarnished rolled under the demigod's last swing and then whirled around with his monstrous great sword, slamming its smelted blades into Godrick's back. Nepheli quickly followed up, lopping off one of Godrick's grafted arms with one clean cut.
The demigod roared out in pain and whirled around, trying to swat both tarnished warriors away. Then, holding his axe aloft, Godrick let loose a battle cry as he whirled it in the air, summoning a violent gust of wind around him, knocking back both Nepheli and the Tarnished. In an odd maneuver, Godrick proceeded to roll across the arena with surprising speed, circling the warriors before leaping high into the air and slamming his axe down. Both tarnished warriors managed to roll out of the side at the last minute, avoiding what would have likely been certain death.
Almost comically, the Tarnished noticed that Godrick managed to lodged the head of his axe deep into the stone beneath with the force of his blow and was having difficulty pulling it out. The Tarnished, sword at the ready, charged Godrick, ready to punish the demigod for his mistake. As he jumped forward with his grafted sword at the ready, however, he heard Nepheli call out behind him "Tarnished, below!"
The Tarnished glanced down and saw massive cracks on the ground which he should have noticed earlier. Unfortunately, it was too late to roll back. With the weight and momentum of his colossal great sword, he was already committed to the attack. The Tarnished managed a substantial hit, leaving a messy wound across Godrick's disfigured chest. However, Godrick soon returned in kind as he finally pulled his axe free from the ground, causing the very ground below him to rupture violently.
Chunks of rock slammed into the Tarnished's chest, cracking bone and sending him hurdling backwards. Landing with a thud, the Tarnished cursed his overeager nature and quickly downed a crimson tear from his flask. Nepheli disengaged and ran to his side to lend a hand, helping him back up to his feet.
Godrick laughed at the sight, his wide grin showing his yellow crooked teeth. "Lowly Tarnished, thou believe thineself a match for a demigod? Thou'rt measly worms, unfit to even graft."
"Do not let him provoke you, Wolf," Nepheli advised, despite looking quite frustrated with the demigod's words herself.
The Tarnished nodded and reassured her, "Don't worry, he hasn't gotten to me yet. But we need a plan to lay in more damage. I hate to admit, but if the fight drags on for too long, we'll likely be the first to fall to exhaustion."
Nepheli thought for a moment, and then proposed a plan. "Despite that cocky smile, Godrick's ego is fragile as glass. Goad him into a blind rage and keep his attention. I will wait from the side for the perfect moment and knock him off his feet. Once he falls, we both unleash our fury."
"Understood."
Following the plan, the Tarnished approached Godrick as Nepheli slipped quietly off to the side. At the top of his lungs, the Tarnished shouted out, "Decrepit demigod, you call yourself a lord? Your blood is far closer to a commoner like myself than that of Godwyn the Golden."
Godrick frowned, stepping forward menacingly, axe in hand. "Stay your tongue, Tarnished. Thou art unworthy to speak my name and far less worthy to speak of my golden forefathers."
"Oh I think not," the Tarnished jeered, thinking back to every bit of information Sir Gideon shared about his foe. "The stench of weakness and cowardice follows wherever you tread. Fled the capital dressed as a woman. Insulted the Sword of Miquella only to grovel before her and lick her feet. Just how much shame have your actions inflicted upon the Golden Lineage? What a disappoint blemish in the Land Between's most prestigious line."
"Quiet you wretch," Godrick snarled, his face further contorting with rage with each word.
The Tarnished did not let up. "Ever since entering your castle, I pondered why a warrior such as Margit degraded himself to standing watch by your gates. I now realize, as he must have, that the most pathetic of all demigods would of course draw the most tarnished. After all, why challenge any other when lowly prey such as yourself exists?"
He smiled as he watched the demigod shake with fury. Just a bit more would be all it took to send the demigod into a blind rage. "Godrick the Golden? Don't make me laugh. You aren't even imposing enough for the name Godrick the Grafted. No, a more befitting title for you… is Godrick the Bait."
Godrick roared, nearly foaming at the mouth, and bounding forward on all fours, dragging his Golden axe behind him, sending sparks flying as its edge grinded against the stone path. The Tarnished readied himself for the onslaught, now placing his trust in Nepheli to play her role. A furious hail of attacks followed, each of Godrick's arms madly swinging his axes one after another, desperately trying to cleave the Tarnished who dared mock his name.
To Godrick's credit, the attacks came faster than ever before, only giving the Tarnished moments between swings to react to each. However, the Tarnished was still faster than the deformed demigod and he managed to duck and weave past each blow. As Godrick maintained his assault, the Tarnished started to notice wider gaps between each swing and slight fumbles between each arm. The demigod was losing control, the moment to strike would surely come soon.
Just as Godrick reared back his golden axe for another blow, Nepheli jumped out from behind the dragon's corpse. The warrior woman swung her axes into Godrick's right shoulder and, using her momentum, she pulled the demigod off balance, knocking him to his knees. The Tarnished didn't waste a moment swinging his own blade, bringing the grafted great sword down in a brutal arc. When his attack landed, on Godrick's shoulder, he felt the crunch of bone underneath, a good indicator of a debilitating blow. However, with Godrick on his knees, Nepheli and the Tarnished refused to let up, delivering blow after blow to the downed demigod.
Godrick wailed out in pain and raised up his axe and, predicting a counter attack, both the Tarnished and Nepheli jumped back. However, to both their surprise, Godrick swung his axe straight down on his own left forearm. Crying out, Godrick raised up his arm and, with another strike, cut his hand clean off.
"I am of the Golden Lineage… I will not… be felled… by a lowly tarnished…" With heavy breaths, Godrick held out his bloody stump and turned to the dragon corpse. Almost mesmerized by the dead beast, he pleaded, "Ahh, truest of dragons… Lend me thy strength!" Then, with another cry, he plunged his severed into the corpse's neck, tearing it in a mess of blood. The head, now grafted to him, fell limply by Godrick's side. After only a moment, however, the dragon head began to stir and snarl. Life returned to its eyes as it lifted itself up and snap at the air in an almost confused manner.
Godrick raised his new appendage into the sky as it belched a stream of dragonfire before him. "FOREFATHERS ONE AND ALL!" the demigod cried out to the heavens, "BEAR WITNESS!"
When Gideon had told him that Godrick had found a new toy for grafting, this was not quite what the Tarnished expected. Cursing himself for not dealing with the dragon's corpse earlier, the Tarnished leapt out of the way as Godrick pointed his grafted limb forward and let loose a wave of flames towards him. Though he was able to dodge most of it, he felt the dragon fire heating up his armor, causing him to sweat profusely and making even breathing difficult.
"We must finish this quickly, before the heat is too much to bear!" Nepheli shouted, charging towards the demigod. The Tarnished followed suit, hoping that Godrick's desperate move signaled he was on his last leg.
However, if the demigod was near death, he did not show it. The dragon's strength seemed to invigorate him, imbuing Godrick with newfound strength and speed. Every attack now came with a fiery finish, curtesy of the grafted dragon, making it difficult for the Tarnished to push any openings without being cooked alive. Together, he and Nepheli were able to maintain some ground against Godrick but not without taking cuts and burns of their own.
The battle raged on, and the Tarnished found himself down to only a few more crimson tears. Nepheli, now exhausted, her fur battle garb singed and burned, had spent her last tear after being hit with a burning whirlwind conjured by Godrick's golden axe. Though the demigod was certainly fairing better than before, he seemed in no gloating mood. The Tarnished's previous insults continued to kindle his rage, a rage that would not subside until he devoured both usurpers before him.
Godrick rolled towards the two warriors, leaving a blazing trail in his wake, and again followed with a jumping strike, flames exploding from the earth as his axe met the ground. Nepheli and the Tarnished, now both used to this pattern, leapt back, then dove back in, ready to quickly strike for the few seconds they had before Godrick pulled his axe from the stone. As the Tarnished landed his hit, however, he could not help but notice Godrick's wide toothy grin.
In a moment of uncharacteristic guile, Godrick whirled around, leaving his axe in the ground. The grafted dragon struck out and snapped its jaws around Nepheli, who cried out in pain as it clamped its teeth down around her. Godrick cackled maniacally as the dragon's mouth began to glow, smoke and flames spilling out of its mouth as it torched the victim inside. Then, rearing up its head, the grafted dragon slammed Nepheli on the ground and opened its maw, bathing her in its pent-up inferno.
Godrick, whose mood had certainly improved from before, picked up the warrior woman with his other hand and looked her over. Then, the Tarnished watched as the demigod tossed Nepheli ally aside and her body careened into a tombstone, after which it lay limply in front of. He rushed over to her side and quickly opened his pouch, pulling out his crimson flask and letting a tear drop in her mouth. He watched as the healing poultice partially mended her burns. A wave of relief washed over him when he heard a soft breath.
"A shame," Godrick called over, in a much better move after burning Nepheli alive, "for a woman, her strength was admirable. Perhaps I shall graft her onto mine own body, provided she has not been rendered to ash."
The Tarnished clenched his fist. Nepheli could no longer fight. If he died here, she would surely end up stitched to Godrick, a fate worse than death. Thus, for the sake of his new friend, he had to finish the job and slay Godrick before he could lay a hand on her corpse.
Not one to pass up any chance to claim victory, Godrick bounded gleefully towards the Tarnished, whose back was still turned to him. Luckily, though, due to Godrick's unwieldy size, the Tarnished heard his approach before he even got close. Filled with determination to protect his friend, the Tarnished Turned and blocked Godrick's axe. Then, allowing the axe's head to slide down the length of his sword to the side, the Tarnished swung upward in a powerful counter attack, catching Godrick across the side.
While the dragon brutally punished any mistakes, Godrick's patterns themselves had not changed substantially. The Tarnished realized this as Godrick, still riding the high of his previous attack, wildly swung his axe in a manner all too familiar. The panic caused by the dragon's flames subsided as the Tarnished cleared his mind and focused on dodging the demigod's axe, just as he had before. The Tarnished almost felt silly to have forgotten that, no matter what new limb he affixed to himself, Godrick would be the same pathetic, simple fool he had always been. And pathetic, simple fools such as Godrick could not help but live and die as creatures of habit.
Godrick, frustrated that his attacks no longer hit as they had before, reared back his dragon's head and spewed a river of flame, forcing the Tarnished to back off and give him space. The raised his axe and swung it above his head, summoning yet another fiery windstorm before rolling towards the Tarnished. He smiled to himself, cherishing the thought of burning the Tarnished thoroughly until his skin. When he neared the Tarnished he leapt up to perform the same jumping attack as before. And, just as before, the Tarnished jumped back and quickly jumped in, sword at the ready. Godrick had difficulty containing his laughter as he released his axe and swung his grafted dragon towards the Tarnished, ready to incinerate and devour the low born who dared make light of the Lord of All that is Golden.
This, however, was the exact moment the Tarnished had been anticipating. In a split second, the Tarnished spun around, moving the point of his grafted great sword from Godrick's stomach straight towards the dragon's maw. Then, with all the power he could muster, the Tarnished lunged towards the flame and shoved the jagged cluster of blades straight down the grafted beast's throat.
The Tarnished released the blade's grip as the grafted dragon recoiled back and both it and Godrick screamed out in agony. Blood showered as the creature flailed around, desperately trying to free the blade from its jaw. But the dragon's struggle was in vain. Each grafted blade that comprised the colossal greatsword dug itself into the dragon's flesh, some even jutting out cruelly through the creature's scales, only exacerbating each wound the more it writhed.
"You idiot," the Tarnished spat. "Did you truly believe I would fall for such a trick not minutes after you wounded my ally with it?" He brought forth his bloodhound great sword and held it out in one hand, letting the tip drag menacingly on the ground as he walked slowly towards Godrick.
The demigod turned towards the Tarnished, his eyes now filled with abject fear. Desperately, Godrick reached for his axe, still lodged in the ground, but before he could reach it the Tarnished swiftly removed his arm with one clean chop. Godrick wailed out again, tears now streaming from his eyes. The Tarnished, not one to leave anything more up to chance, circled around and, with another slice from his curved great sword, severed the dragon at the shoulder, leaving Godrick with only the small limbs affixed to his back.
With that blow, Godrick finally stopped flailing, rolling on his back pathetically as he gasped and wheezed for air. The Tarnished stepped up on top of the demigod's chest and raised his sword up, its point just inches away from Godrick's neck.
"Grace has abandoned you and the Greater will demands your life," the Tarnished spoke, his voice now solemn as he read the demigod his final rites, "With my sword I deliver unto you death and end your pitiful struggle on this mortal coil. Have you any last words?"
Godrick looked up to the sky, as if trying to see the sun through the clouds. His eyes dulled and his mind barely present, he muttered out softly "I am the Lord of all that is Golden…" The Tarnished plunged his sword into Godrick's throat, eliciting a quiet gag before the demigod's head fell limply to the side. The little life remaining finally left the demigod and his body burst into a cloud of ashes and runes.
The Tarnished held out his hand and watched as a golden light gathered in his palm and took the form of three circles overlapping. The symbol maintained its brilliance for but a moment before dimming, leaving only the mark floating before him. The Tarnished grasped the mark and it disappeared, embedding itself within him. He knew almost instinctually that this was Godrick's great rune. Something felt off about it, however, as if it were simply a shell of its former self. He would have to consult Sir Gideon on the matter. Hopefully, the All Knowing would have some answer.
As the Tarnished gathered the minor runes Godrick left behind, he felt himself absorb another strange feeling of remembrance. Similar to when Melina first bestowed upon him the power of runes, a stream of memories flooded the Tarnished's head. Images of a the past flashed before him: back to the landscape covered in snow, littered with weapons and corpses.
The Tarnished saw others around him, all wearing armor similar to his own. He felt the bitter cold penetrating his armor and the weight of a weapon in each hand. One of the warriors approached him and shouted, "Stay focused, pup! The battle is not yet lost!" The Tarnished watched as he readied his weapons and charged forward with his comrades. As they charged, the Tarnished heard an ear shattering roar and giant shadow enveloped them. The earth rumbled, but the Tarnished and his comrades did not falter. Swords raised, the forged onward through the blizzard, ready to slay all before them or die trying.
Then, just as quickly as it they arrived, the images of a lost past left, returning the Tarnished to Castle Stormveil. The Tarnished blinked, then shook his head, trying to reorient himself. The memories he experienced after Godrick's death were far more vivid than those that came before. He could tell, once again, these were no fragments of knowledge bestowed by Grace, these memories were truly his own.
At least this time he had something more to work with. According to the visions, there were others like him, or at least dressed like him. Perhaps some were even tarnished, like him. If he could find one, maybe he could learn more about where he came from. His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of incessant rambling.
Looking to his side, the Tarnished saw Gostec standing over a withered old man dressed in fine robes and gold. Gostec, barely noticing the Tarnished's presence, was kicking at the old man's head, hurling curses and insults as he did.
"What a pathetic excuse for a Lord you were," he jeered, his every word dripping with vitrol, "Craven to the bone, pushing me about like that. And after all that grafting, where did that get you?! Look down on me would you?! Godrick, you filthy slug! Feel it! Feel it! Feel my bloody wrath!"
"Gostec, what are you doing here?" The Tarnished asked, tired but still unwilling to let Gostec have free reign without any scrutiny.
"Oh, sir Tarnished," he said, his voice slightly raw from all his yelling, "I apologize for disobeying your request, but I was watching the whole battle. You fought marvelously, with skill befitting a soon to be Elden Lord."
The Tarnished was sure that Gostec knew flattery would not help him escape questioning, but something about the gatekeeper's tone sounded different, more sincere. "That doesn't answer my question. Why did you follow me all this way? Did you think my threat was merely for show?"
Gostec shook his head, "Of course not. It's just… this weasel was… Godrick was always looking down on me. Despite what you may think I hated that wretch with every fiber of my being. When I saw you make your way through the castle, I thought you might be the one to finally put and end to the bastard. And now he got what he bloody deserved, thanks to you." Giving Godrick's head another kick, Gostec continued, "What goes around comes around, don't it? He had an ugly heart, an uglier countenance, and met the ugliest of ends."
While the Tarnished still felt no compassion towards the old Gatekeeper, he was too exhausted to make good on any threats. He decided that his best course of action at this point was to just let Gostec be, wretch that he was. Gostec, his attention no longer remotely on the Tarnished, began stomping on Godricks head, each stomp harder than the last.
Spotting a site of Grace nearby, the Tarnished walked over and activated it. Then, he sat down near it, catching his breath. As soon as his strength returned, he would tend to Nepheli and bring her to the Roundtable Hold to recover. But, for the moment, he could rest easy knowing that he had reached his the first great milestone in his journey.