Nathaniel sat beside Melina, who lay quietly in her bed, still recovering from her wounds. He watched her for a moment, her eyes closed in a fitful rest. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of candlelight casting shadows on the walls. Nathaniel's mind raced with questions, but one in particular gnawed at him.
"Melina," he began softly, not wanting to startle her. She opened her eyes slowly, turning her gaze towards him. "I couldn't help but notice your hands... the scars."
Melina's expression immediately grew distant, her eyes hardening. She glanced down at her hands. She flexed her fingers slightly, as if testing their strength.
"They are... remnants of bygone days," she said after a long pause.
Nathaniel leaned forward, his curiosity piqued but sensing her reluctance. "Remnants? Did someone hurt you?"
"It is not something I wish to delve into, Nathaniel. My past is... intricate and bears no weight on our quest."
Nathaniel frowned, feeling a pang of frustration. He wanted to understand her, to know what she had been through.
"Melina, you can trust me. We've been through a lot together. I just... I want to help you."
Melina's gaze softened slightly, but she shook her head. "There are matters in this realm, and in my history, best left unsaid. The scars upon my hands are a testament to my own failings, my own... burdens."
Nathaniel reached out, gently taking one of her hands in his. "We all carry stuff, Melina. You don't have to do it alone."
She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for a moment before she gently pulled her hand away. "Thank you, Nathaniel. Yet some burdens are mine to bear alone. Concentrate on the journey ahead. There remains much to be done."
Nathaniel sighed, leaning back in his chair. He wanted to press further, but he could see Melina was not ready to share her past, and he had to respect that.
"Alright," he said quietly. "But if you ever want to talk, I'm here. We're a team, remember?"
Melina nodded slightly. Melina nodded slightly. "Thank thee, Nathaniel. Thy concern is... noted."
They sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Nathaniel knew there was more to Melina than she let on, but for now, he had to be patient. Their journey was far from over, and there would be time for answers later.
For now, he would focus on helping her recover and preparing for whatever challenges lay ahead.
Nathaniel found Corhyn in a quiet corner of the Roundtable Hold, tending to his collection of sacred texts and scrolls. The healer was deep in concentration, his fingers gently tracing the lines of an ancient script. Nathaniel approached him, a sense of determination in his step.
"Hey, Corhyn," Nathaniel called out, catching the older man's attention. "I saw you use some kind of healing magic on Melina. Can you teach me other incantations? I want to learn."
Corhyn looked up. "Ah, Nathaniel. You have an interest in the sacred arts? Healing is but one facet of the divine magic bestowed upon us by the Greater Will."
Nathaniel nodded. "Yeah, I figure it could be useful, you know? Plus, I want to be able to protect myself and others."
Corhyn smiled warmly and gestured for Nathaniel to sit beside him. "Very well. I shall teach you a few fundamental incantations. They may serve you well on your journey."
Over the next few hours, Corhyn guided Nathaniel through the basics of several incantations. He taught him Flame Sling, a spell that allowed the caster to hurl balls of fire at enemies; O Flame, which created a burst of flames around the caster; and Catch Flame, a quick and powerful fire spell that ignited foes at close range.
"These incantations draw upon the primordial power of fire," Corhyn explained as Nathaniel practiced forming the spell sigils with his hands. "They were developed by the Fire Monks, an order dedicated to guarding the flame of ruin."
Nathaniel paused, intrigued. "The Fire Monks? Who are they?"
Corhyn's expression grew serious. "The Fire Monks are guardians of the flame of ruin, a sacred and dangerous power forbidden by the Erdtree. It is said that this flame is kept high in the Mountaintops of the Giants, a place of great peril and ancient secrets."
Nathaniel's eyes widened with interest. "So, they're like... protectors of some forbidden power?"
"Indeed," Corhyn confirmed. "The flame they guard has the potential to bring great destruction, but also immense power. It is a delicate balance, one that they have sworn to maintain."
As Nathaniel continued to practice, he couldn't help but wonder about the flame of ruin and its connection to the broader mysteries of the Lands Between. He felt a newfound sense of purpose, knowing that mastering these incantations could be a key to unlocking more of the world's secrets.
"Thanks, Corhyn," Nathaniel said sincerely, feeling the warmth of the incantations coursing through his hands. "This means a lot."
Corhyn placed a reassuring hand on Nathaniel's shoulder. "Remember, Nathaniel, magic is not just about power. It is about understanding and respecting the forces at play. Use these incantations wisely, and they will serve you well."
Nathaniel nodded, absorbing the wisdom in Corhyn's words. He felt more prepared for the challenges ahead, armed with new knowledge and the power of fire at his fingertips. As he left Corhyn's side, he couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement, ready to face whatever dangers the Lands Between had in store.
Nathaniel stepped outside the Roundtable Hold, feeling the cool air against his skin as he found an open area to practice his newly learned incantations. Corhyn had taught him well, but now it was time to put theory into practice. He raised his hand, trying to summon the fire he'd been taught to control.
"Flame Sling," he muttered, focusing on the incantation. However, nothing happened. He tried again, frustration building as the spell refused to manifest.
Corhyn, who had followed him outside, watched with a knowing smile. "You're missing something important, Nathaniel."
Nathaniel turned to him, exasperated. "What am I doing wrong?"
"The incantations must be memorized first at a site of grace," Corhyn explained patiently. "And, most importantly, you need a sacred seal to channel the magic."
"A sacred seal?" Nathaniel asked, intrigued.
Corhyn nodded and reached into his robes, pulling out a small, ornate object. He handed it to Nathaniel. "This is the Finger Seal. It is bestowed by a Finger Maiden and serves as a catalyst for casting sacred incantations."
Nathaniel took the Finger Seal, examining it closely. The intricate designs etched into its surface seemed to pulse with latent power. "So, I just... hold this?"
"Not quite," Corhyn said with a chuckle. "First, you must go to a site of grace and commit the incantations to memory. Then, equip the seal, and you will be able to cast the spells."
Nathaniel nodded, feeling a bit sheepish for not knowing this crucial detail. He walked over to a nearby site of grace, the familiar golden glow welcoming him. He sat down and closed his eyes, focusing on the incantations Corhyn had taught him: Flame Sling, O Flame, and Catch Flame. The knowledge seemed to seep into his mind, becoming a part of him.
When he stood up, he felt different—more attuned to the magic within him. He equipped the Finger Seal, feeling a surge of power as he did so. Returning to the open area, he raised his hand once more, this time with the seal in his grasp.
"Flame Sling," he said confidently. A ball of fire formed in his hand and shot forward, exploding against a distant tree. Nathaniel's eyes widened with excitement.
"Yes!" he exclaimed, turning to Corhyn. "It fucking worked!"
Corhyn smiled warmly. "Indeed, it did. Now, try the others."
Nathaniel focused again. "O Flame." A burst of fire erupted around him, a wave of heat radiating from his body.
"Catch Flame," he continued, producing a quick, intense flame that danced in his palm before extinguishing.
Nathaniel grinned, the thrill of mastering these incantations filling him with renewed confidence. "Thank you, Corhyn. This is badass."
"Remember, Nathaniel," Corhyn advised, "these spells are powerful tools, but they must be used with caution and respect. The fire can protect, but it can also destroy."
Nathaniel nodded, absorbing the wisdom in Corhyn's words. He felt a sense of responsibility now, knowing the power he wielded could shape the course of his journey in the Lands Between. With the Finger Seal in hand and the incantations committed to memory, he was ready for whatever lay ahead.
Stormveil Castle (Oustide the Gate): Outside Stormveil Castle, Nathaniel and Roderika stood before the imposing gate, its iron bars cold and unyielding. Roderika's face was set with determination, her gentle demeanour hardened by the loss of her friends.
Nathaniel glanced at Roderika. "You don't have to do this, you know."
Roderika looked up at him. "I want to. I need to avenge my friends. They were slain and grafted by Godrick. I cannot just stand by and do nothing."
Nathaniel nodded. "I get it. But it's dangerous in there. If you need to back out—"
"No," Roderika interrupted softly but firmly. "I've made my choice. It's something I have to do. For them, and for myself. I need to see justice done."
Nathaniel took a deep breath, respecting her resolve but still feeling a pang of worry. "Alright. We'll do this together. Just… be careful. We need to be smart about this."
With that, they turned their attention to the gate and the narrow path that might offer a way inside. Their conversation lingered in the air, a reminder of the stakes and the personal motivations driving them both.
Nathaniel glanced around, searching for any signs of a way through the fortress.
"There's gotta be another way," Nathaniel muttered, frustration evident in his tone.
Roderika's eyes scanned the surroundings, and then she pointed to a narrow pathway partially obscured by ivy. "Look over there. It seems like there might be a path."
As they approached the path, an old man with a crooked posture and a weathered face emerged from the shadows. He was hunched over, his clothes tattered, and his most noticeable feature was a hand wrapped in a rough bandage, the remnants of a violent injury.
"Hey you two."
Nathaniel and Roderika gasped and Nathaniel drew his greatsword.
"Wait. No! No! No! I'm a friend." The old man said.
Nathaniel and Roderika still remained cautious.
"You two are Tarnished, aren't you?" the old man asked, his voice raspy but curious.
Nathaniel eyed him warily. "Yeah, what's it to you?"
"I would advise against taking the main gate into the castle," the man said. "It's tightly guarded by hardened old hands. They'll see you coming from a mile away. Try the opening right here." He gestured to a narrow, shadowy alcove beside the main gate. "The guards don't know about it. You'll both breach the castle undetected."
Roderika, still cautious, glanced at Nathaniel. "And why should we trust you?"
The old man's face grew somber, and he lifted his bandaged hand. "Godrick took my hand as punishment. I know this castle better than most, and I've seen the horrors within. I don't have anything to gain by misleading you."
Roderika stepped closer, her gaze softening slightly. "You're saying you want to help us?"
The old man nodded vigorously. "Yes. I want to see that tyrant brought low. I'm just an old fool with little left to lose, but I know the castle's weaknesses. I promise you, the path I've shown is the safest way in."
Nathaniel exchanged a look with Roderika, who nodded, seemingly convinced by the old man's sincerity. "Alright," Nathaniel said. "We'll take your advice. But if you're lying to us—"
"I'm not lying!" Gostoc interrupted, his voice cracking with desperation. "Just follow the path and stay out of sight. That's all I ask."
With a resigned sigh, Nathaniel and Roderika made their way towards the opening, casting one last glance back at Gostoc. The old man's eyes followed them.
As they slipped through the narrow entrance, Nathaniel couldn't help but think about the old man's tale. The path through the castle's walls seemed as fraught with danger as the main gate, but for now, it was their best chance. They moved cautiously, the weight of their mission pressing heavily upon them.
Outside Stormveil Castle, Nathaniel and Roderika crept along the perimeter, their steps cautious as they searched for an entrance. The castle loomed ominously, its dark silhouette etched against the evening sky. Just as they were beginning to relax, a hawk, its talons adorned with razor-sharp blades, swooped down from above.
The hawk let out a piercing screech as it attacked Nathaniel, its claws raking across his arms and shoulders.
"Get it off! Get it off!" Nathaniel shouted, struggling to swat the vicious bird away.
Roderika acted quickly, her sword flashing as she swung at the hawk, catching it with a precise strike. The hawk screeched in pain but did not retreat.
Nathaniel, in a frantic attempt to dislodge the creature, stomped on it repeatedly, his boots crunching down with force. The hawk flapped wildly, its wings beating frantically against Nathaniel's legs.
With one final cry, the hawk fell, defeated and lifeless. Nathaniel, breathing heavily, looked up at Roderika.
"Are you alright, Nathaniel?" Roderika asked.
Nathaniel, his forehead smeared with blood and sweat, managed a weary thumbs-up. "Yeah, I'm fine." He winced slightly as he examined the cuts and bruises on his arms.
Roderika's eyes softened as she took in his condition. "You're bleeding. We should tend to that before we continue."
Nathaniel shook his head, trying to brush off her concern. "It's just a scratch. Let's keep moving. We've got a mission."
Despite his attempt at bravado, the blood trickling down his forehead was a stark reminder of the danger they were facing. Roderika offered him a brief but reassuring smile before they pressed on, determined to find a way into the castle.
Nathaniel and Roderika moved silently through the shadowed corridors of Stormveil Castle, their eyes scanning for any signs of movement. The old stone walls seemed to whisper secrets of past battles as they crept along. They approached a narrow passage and saw a lone guard in crimson cloth patrolling the area.
Nathaniel signalled to Roderika, then reached for a rock he had picked up earlier. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he threw the rock down a nearby corridor. The clatter of the rock echoed through the castle, drawing the guard's attention.
As the guard turned away, Nathaniel and Roderika seized the opportunity. Nathaniel slinked forward, his movements fluid and precise. He drew his dagger and approached the guard from behind.
The guard, still focused on the noise, didn't see Nathaniel coming. Nathaniel's blade flashed in the dim light as he drove it into the guard's side. The guard let out a muffled cry before Nathaniel silenced him with another swift strike. With practiced efficiency, he stabbed the guard multiple times, ensuring he would not rise again.
Nathaniel stepped back, breathing heavily but silently. He wiped the blade on the crimson cloth of the fallen guard and looked over at Roderika.
"Night. Night," Nathaniel whispered with a grim smile, giving a small nod as he sheathed his dagger. The guard was now motionless, the crimson cloth stained darker with blood.
Roderika gave a nod of approval but kept her voice low. "We should keep moving. There may be more guards ahead."
Nathaniel agreed, glancing around to ensure the way was clear. Together, they continued their stealthy advance through the castle, determined to reach their goal despite the increasing danger.
As Nathaniel and Roderika moved cautiously through the dim corridors, another guard emerged from a side passage. His eyes fell on Nathaniel, and a look of recognition flashed across his face.
"Tarnished!" the guard shouted, his voice rising in alarm.
Before the guard could react further, he raised a horn to signal for reinforcements. Nathaniel, quick to act, hurled a knife with precision. The blade whistled through the air and struck the guard's head with a sickening thud. The guard crumpled to the ground, the horn falling from his hand and clattering against the stone floor.
Roderika's eyes widened in panic. "They found us!"
Nathaniel nodded, his expression grim. "We've gotta move. Now!"
The sound of the horn's echo had already started to rouse the other guards. Nathaniel and Roderika sprinted down the corridor, their footfalls echoing through the castle. They needed to find a way to evade the incoming patrols and reach their objective before reinforcements arrived.
Roderika glanced over her shoulder as they ran. "We need to find a safe spot, regroup, and plan our next move."
Nathaniel gritted his teeth, focusing on their immediate goal. "Agreed. Let's find cover and stay sharp. We can't afford to be surrounded."
They rounded a corner and ducked into a small, dark alcove. Nathaniel pressed his back against the cold stone wall, trying to catch his breath while scanning the area for any sign of danger. Roderika did the same, her face set in determination.
"The guards will be searching for us," Roderika said, her voice steady despite the urgency. "We need to stay quiet and use the shadows to our advantage."
Nathaniel nodded. "We'll have to be quick and precise. We're not out of this yet."
With a shared nod, they prepared to continue their stealthy advance, aware that the slightest mistake could lead to their capture. The mission to confront Godrick and avenge Roderika's friends had just become far more perilous.
As Nathaniel and Roderika cautiously moved through a narrow corridor, a group of older guards rounded the corner. Their faces were weathered and stern, and they looked as if they'd been guarding the castle for decades.
One of the old guards, with a sharp glare and a gnarled hand, pointed directly at Nathaniel and Roderika. "There! Tarnished!" he shouted.
Before Nathaniel could react, the old man slapped him hard across the chest. The force of the blow left Nathaniel momentarily dazed, but his instincts kicked in just in time to see the guard pull out a small, blackened bomb from his belt.
The old man hurled the bomb with surprising strength. It tumbled through the air, and Nathaniel's eyes widened in alarm. "Get down!" he yelled, shoving Roderika towards the nearest cover.
The bomb exploded with a deafening roar, sending debris and smoke billowing through the corridor. Nathaniel and Roderika were thrown to the ground, their ears ringing and vision blurred by the blast. The shockwave knocked them off balance, and the once quiet corridor was now filled with chaos.
Roderika scrambled to her feet, coughing from the smoke and dust. "Nathaniel, are you okay?"
Nathaniel, shaking off the disorientation, pushed himself up with a groan. His chest ached from the impact of the guard's slap and the blast. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, though his voice was strained. "We need to keep moving before they get more reinforcements."
Roderika nodded, her eyes scanning the area for any sign of the guards. The corridor was now filled with smoke, making it difficult to see, but she could hear the distant shouts and footsteps of approaching guards.
"We can't stay here," Roderika said urgently. "Let's find another way."
Nathaniel, still catching his breath, grabbed Roderika's arm. "Agreed. Move quickly and stay low. We need to get past these guards and find our way to Godrick."
With renewed determination, they pressed on, navigating through the smoke-filled corridor. Their path ahead was fraught with danger, but they had no choice but to forge ahead. The stakes had never been higher, and every moment counted.
As Nathaniel and Roderika stumbled through the smoke-filled corridor, the distant sounds of approaching guards grew louder. Nathaniel, clutching his burning chest from the blast and the force of the guard's slap, knew they needed to act fast to fend off the incoming threat.
Roderika's eyes darted around for any cover or advantage. "Nathaniel, what's the plan?"
Nathaniel, struggling to stay steady, reached into his pouch and pulled out his Finger Seal. With a determined expression, he focused on the flames within him. He raised his hand and chanted softly, invoking the Flame Sling incantation.
A fiery glow ignited at his fingertips, quickly forming into a blazing fireball. Nathaniel aimed carefully at the entrance of the corridor where the guards were beginning to emerge from the smoke.
"Look out!" Nathaniel shouted, releasing the fireball with a swift motion.
The fireball shot through the smoke with a hissing sound, illuminating the corridor with its intense heat. It struck the lead guard squarely, exploding into a burst of flames. The blast sent the guards reeling back, their cries of surprise mingling with the roar of the fire.
The corridor lit up with the fiery explosion, and the searing heat pushed the guards back, giving Nathaniel and Roderika a brief moment of reprieve. The smoke began to clear as the flames consumed part of the corridor, revealing the stunned and disoriented guards.
Nathaniel's heart pounded in his chest as the sound of rushing footsteps echoed up the staircase. The soldiers were getting closer by the second, and a cold sweat formed on his forehead.
"What do we do?" he asked frantically, glancing at Roderika. She stood motionless beside him, frozen in fear.
"Roderika!" Nathaniel shouted, trying to shake her out of her terror. But she remained unresponsive, her eyes fixed on some distant point. In desperation, he reached out and slapped her across the face.
"Ow!" she cried out in surprise, her cheeks reddening from the force of the blow.
"Roderika, snap out of it!" Nathaniel implored her. "We can't stay here any longer! We have to go, now!"
They hurried down the corridor, moving past the now-panicked guards. The smoke and flames provided them with a temporary shield, but Nathaniel knew they couldn't rely on it for long. With each step, they pressed forward, determined to reach their goal and confront Godrick.
As they rounded a corner, Nathaniel glanced back at the flickering flames and the disarray they had caused. The fireball had bought them precious time, but the real challenge still awaited them deep within Stormveil Castle.
Nathaniel, noticing the scattered remains of the guards and the array of weapons around him, spotted a few bombs lying amidst the debris. His eyes narrowed in determination as he bent down to collect them.
"Grab those!" Nathaniel said to Roderika, who was still scanning the area for any more threats. She hurried over, helping him pick up the remaining bombs while keeping a vigilant watch.
With a sudden burst of energy, he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the exit. Together, they bolted down the stairs, their feet pounding against the cold stone floor as they made their escape. The soldiers were hot on their heels, their shouts and curses ringing in their ears as they ran for their lives.
They stumbled into a small abandoned room, gasping for breath as they collapsed onto the dusty floor. Roderika's face was streaked with tears as she looked up at Nathaniel, her eyes filled with shame and self-doubt.
"My… legs wouldn't move. My arms were useless. My heart could not beat. I froze," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of their hearts. "I'm so sorry."
Nathaniel's heart ached at the sight of her so vulnerable and defeated. He reached out and gently took her hand, pulling her closer to him. "Hey, hey, it's no big deal," he said softly, trying to reassure her. "We managed to get away safely, didn't we? They were easy to deal with thanks to the precarious way these stairs are positioned. You don't have to apologize."
But Roderika was inconsolable, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. "But what if it happens again? What if I leave you to fend for yourself just because of my weakness?" she asked, her voice trembling with fear.
"That won't happen," Nathaniel promised her, his own voice filled with conviction. "We'll figure this out together. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."
He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her trembling form. "Just… let's just… take a moment to breathe," he said, holding her close as they both tried to calm their racing hearts.
Roderika nodded, her expression resolute. "Let's get through this door and see where it leads."
Nathaniel carefully placed one of the bombs by the door's hinges, then retreated a safe distance. "Cover your ears," he warned, his fingers deftly pulling the pin.
He threw a quick glance at Roderika, who was already bracing herself. Nathaniel lit the fuse and tossed the bomb against the door. The explosion rocked the corridor, sending shards of metal and splinters flying as the door was blown off its hinges.
The deafening blast echoed through the castle, but Nathaniel and Roderika pushed through the newly opened entrance without hesitation. The smoke from the explosion began to clear, revealing a grand hall with high ceilings and flickering torchlight.
Nathaniel took a deep breath, readying himself for the next challenge. "We've made it this far. Let's find Godrick and finish this."
Roderika tightened her grip on her sword. "For my friends. Let's do this."
They moved forward into the hall, where the sounds of the castle's activity continued in the distance. The path ahead was uncertain, but their resolve was unwavering. As they ventured deeper into Stormveil Castle, the anticipation of their impending confrontation with Godrick the Golden grew ever stronger.
Nathaniel and Roderika stumbled into a room, their breath coming in short bursts as they processed the scene before them. The door slammed shut behind them with a heavy thud, and the sound of a sinister laugh echoed off the stone walls.
Nathaniel's eyes darted around the dimly lit chamber, coming to rest on the figure of an old man. The old man stood on the other side of the barred gate, his expression twisted into a mocking grin.
"You!" Nathaniel shouted. He rushed to the bars, gripping them tightly. "What the hell is this!?"
Gostoc's grin widened as he met Nathaniel's furious gaze. "The name is Gostoc. Did you really think I was going to help you?"
Nathaniel's heart sank as he took in the sight of a massive Banished Knight standing imposingly in the centre of the room. The knight, clad in heavy armour, raised his sword, readying himself for battle.
"You're locked in here with him," Gostoc continued, his voice taunting. "I should've known better than to expect loyalty from someone so easily swayed by promises."
Roderika, her face pale but resolute, stepped forward. "Gostoc, why are you doing this?"
Gostoc's laugh was cold and devoid of warmth. "Why? Because I have no reason to assist you two. I rather keep myself alive than to risk being grafted by that maniac."
Nathaniel clenched his fists, his anger boiling over. "You bastard! I knew I shouldn't have trusted you!"
Gostoc's eyes sparkled with malicious delight. "Trust is a luxury in these lands, Tarnished. And now, you must face the consequences."
With that, Gostoc turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Nathaniel and Roderika to face the Banished Knight alone. The barred gate clanged shut behind him, and the ominous silence of the room was broken only by the metallic creaking of the knight's armour as it shifted.
Roderika, though shaken, took a deep breath and drew her sword. "We need to fight our way out. This is not how it ends."
Nathaniel nodded. "Agreed. Let's show this bastard what we're made of."
He unsheathed his dagger and prepared for battle, the fire of determination burning in his eyes. The Banished Knight, now fully alert, raised its massive sword, ready to charge.
Nathaniel and Roderika moved into position, their resolve as solid as the stone walls surrounding them. They were determined not to let Gostoc's betrayal be the end of their journey.
"As the Banished Knight roared and charged, Nathaniel and Roderika braced themselves for the fight of their lives, the stakes higher than ever. The clash of steel and the desperate struggle for survival echoed through the chamber, a testament to their unyielding will to overcome the odds.
The room echoed with the laughter of the Banished Knight, who stood in the centre, towering over Nathaniel and Roderika. His armour clinked ominously as he taunted them.
"You Tarnished fools," the knight sneered, "You seriously fell for the old Gostoc trick."
Nathaniel and Roderika exchanged determined glances and charged at the knight. The battle was brutal. The knight swung his massive sword, and Nathaniel barely managed to dodge the blow, but not without taking a hard hit to the face. Stunned, he staggered back.
Meanwhile, the knight had grabbed Roderika by the throat and was pinning her against the wall, his armoured hand squeezing tighter. Roderika struggled, her face turning red as she gasped for air.
Nathaniel's vision cleared, and he saw Roderika's desperate situation. Without thinking, he grabbed a nearby box and hurled it at the knight's head with all his strength. The box struck the knight's helm with a resounding clang, causing him to stumble back and release Roderika.
"Roderika, are you okay?" Nathaniel shouted.
"I'm fine," Roderika choked out, still gasping but visibly shaken.
The knight, enraged by the interference, roared and swung his sword wildly. Nathaniel seized the opportunity, grabbing one of the bombs from earlier. He lit it and, with a grim determination, he yanked off the knight's face helm, revealing the metal underneath. He shoved the lit bomb into the helm and quickly kicked the knight in the stomach, sending him stumbling backward.
"Screw Gostoc, screw Godrick, and screw you!" Nathaniel yelled, his anger boiling over as he watched the knight struggle.
The bomb exploded with a thunderous crack. Flames burst from the helm, engulfing the knight in a searing blaze. The knight clawed at his burning face, his roars of agony filling the chamber. Nathaniel, not wasting a moment, drew his greatsword and delivered a powerful stab right into the knight's chest.
The knight convulsed once, twice, and then fell silent, collapsing to the ground in a smouldering heap. The fire began to die down, revealing the charred remains of the once fearsome foe.
Nathaniel stood over the fallen knight, panting heavily. His face was smeared with soot and sweat, but his eyes shone with a fierce triumph. "Whoa, that was awesome," he said with a breathless chuckle, a grin spreading across his face as he surveyed the aftermath of the battle.
Roderika, who had been recovering from the choking grip, slowly got to her feet. Her eyes were wide with a mix of relief and something else—fear. She watched Nathaniel with a growing unease, her gaze fixed on the intensity of his expression. The way he had handled the fight, the raw ferocity, was unsettling.
She took a hesitant step back, her hands trembling slightly. "Nathaniel," she said quietly, "that was… that was something."
Nathaniel, still riding the high of victory, turned to her. He noticed her expression and his smile faltered slightly. "What's wrong? We won, didn't we?"
Roderika nodded, but her voice was hesitant. "Yes, but… it was more than just winning. It was… intense."
Nathaniel looked at her, his own realization dawning. The blood and fire, the sheer force of his actions—it was a stark contrast to the man he had been. The weight of it all settled on him, and he felt a pang of guilt. "I didn't mean to—"
"It's not that," Roderika cut him off, shaking her head. "It's just… the way you fought. I've never seen anything like it."
Nathaniel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get it. It was a lot. But right now, we need to keep moving. Godrick's still out there."
"Let's just… be careful, okay?"
"Yeah."
Nathaniel climbed the ladder, the painful silence from Roderika's last comment lingering in the air. Should he say something? He wanted to come up with something cool, something inspirational, but knew he would probably just mess it up. Silence seemed the best course, despite his discomfort.
They continued through the labyrinth of Stormveil, encountering a few more Banished Knights. They were difficult to deal with, but with some luck, they managed to get through. Eventually, they reached a walkway outside, and Nathaniel finally got a good look at the inside of Stormveil. Its gray, gothic architecture was overwhelming, heightening the sense of danger. Hawks perched atop wooden beams with explosive barrels attached to their feet.
"Godrick really loves his hawks, I guess," Nathaniel said, trying to lighten the mood.
"That monster loves nothing but himself," Roderika replied. "He forced his grafting art upon those poor creatures."
Nathaniel's mind raced as he took in the scene. An idea sparked, a memory from a baseball game he played in school. He fished out one of the bombs they had taken earlier and aimed carefully.
"Here goes nothing," he muttered.
With a powerful throw, the bomb soared through the air and struck one of the barrels. The explosion was instantaneous, a chain reaction that set off the other barrels. The entire area erupted in flames, the hawks screeching in panic as they were engulfed.
Nathaniel jumped up and celebrated. "Oh yeah! I am freaking amazing! Anyone want a high five?"
Roderika stared at Nathaniel in silence, her expression unreadable.
"Oh, okay..." he muttered, lowering his hand awkwardly.
Nathaniel wondered if the hawks were trained to carry the explosive barrels or if they were just strapped onto them as a cruel tactic. Shaking off the thought, they continued their descent, running down stairs attached to the rampart and onto the roof of a chapel building. Then they both climbed down a ladder to the ground.
Once they reached the bottom, Nathaniel glanced around to ensure the coast was clear. The courtyard was eerily silent, the remnants of the explosion still smoldering in the background.
Instead of progressing forward, Nathaniel decided to check out the chapel. Inside was a small library with large shelves stacked with ancient manuscripts and leather-bound books. In the adjacent room, with pews and an altar, stood a man with a large wizard hat wearing dusty yellow and cyan clothes.
"Roderika, there's a dude," Nathaniel said.
"Stormveil is no stranger to secrets. This man does not seem hostile. Shall we speak to him?" Roderika asked.
"I don't know."
"The more allies we can get in this place, the better."
"Fine. I'll take my chances."
Nathaniel walked up to the man. "Uh, hello?"
The man smiled. "Ah, nice to meet you. The pleasure's mine. Rogier's the name. A sorcerer, as you might've guessed. I'm looking for a little something here in the castle. When I'm not hotfooting it from the troops, that is."
"Yeah, it's not exactly the most welcoming place," Nathaniel said. "What are you doing here?"
"This place is bristling with Tarnished hunters," Rogier replied. "They sacrifice our kind for grafting. Not exactly a place I'd stroll without a purpose in mind."
"We're here to defeat Godrick," Roderika said. "It is no easy task but it must be done."
"I see," Rogier said. "Here to challenge Godrick and lay your hands upon a Great Rune, are you? You can see it then, I take it? The guidance of grace."
"Nope. None of us can," Nathaniel said, shaking his head.
"So you two came here by chance?" Rogier asked, clearly surprised.
"Yep," Nathaniel replied, shrugging. "Just following the path and taking down whatever gets in our way."
Rogier chuckled. "Well, that's quite the bold approach. Godrick is no ordinary foe. He's been grafting parts from other Tarnished to make himself stronger. You're going to need more than just luck."
Roderika nodded. "We know it won't be easy, but we've come this far. We can't turn back now."
"I see. Well, I wish you two luck. Goodbye."
"Yeah. See you later."
Curiosity sparked in Roderika's eyes, and she couldn't help but inquire about his relationship with Melina, his trusted maiden.
"How did you come to meet your maiden?" Roderika asked.
"Why do you wanna know?"
"There's always an intriguing story when it comes to the bond between a Tarnished and their maiden."
Nathaniel paused, his gaze distant as he contemplated her question.
After a moment, he responded. "I met her my first night in the Lands Between. I was lost and totally confused. I wandered around with no clue where to go or what to do."
Roderika nodded. "Sounds like my own experience here. It's a journey we all share."
Nathaniel's eyes lit up with nostalgia. "That night, as I was stumbling through the dark, she just appeared out of nowhere, glowing with this amazing blue light. It felt like something straight out of a fairy tale."
"There's no denying that Melina possesses an air of grace and mystique. It's a part of her essence."
"Totally! I'm always trying to look cool, but Melina just nails it effortlessly. Even the smallest things she does make her come off like a total badass."
Roderika furrowed her brow in confusion. "Bad... ass...?"
Nathaniel grinned. "Oh, sorry about the slang. In my world, it just means someone who's really skilled or impressive."
"Ah, I see. Melina truly possesses a remarkable aura."
Nathaniel and Roderika navigated the dimly lit corridors of Stormveil Castle until they finally came upon Gostoc. He was crouched in a shadowy alcove, looking somewhat dishevelled and frantic. His eyes darted nervously between Nathaniel and Roderika,.
"Gostoc!" Nathaniel's voice was a low, dangerous growl as he approached, his anger palpable. "You sold us out. You led us into a trap."
Gostoc, visibly trembling, raised his hands in a pleading gesture. "Please, please, I was only following orders! I had no choice! I-I didn't mean for any of this to happen!"
Nathaniel's eyes burned with fury. The betrayal was personal now, and the rage he had been holding back surged to the forefront. He raised his weapon, ready to deliver justice for the betrayal and for the danger Gostoc had put them in.
"Just hold on a second," Roderika interjected, stepping between Nathaniel and Gostoc. Her face was pale but resolute. "Nathaniel, please, we can't—"
"Move, Roderika!" Nathaniel snapped. "He put us in danger, nearly got us killed. He's a traitor!"
Roderika's gaze was firm as she held her ground. "I understand your anger, Nathaniel. I do. But killing him now won't undo what's happened. It won't bring us any closer to avenging my friends or defeating Godrick."
Gostoc, still on his knees, looked up at Roderika with desperate eyes. "Please, I beg you. I know I've done wrong. I will make it right. Just—just don't kill me. I can help you get to Godrick. I can—"
Nathaniel's weapon was still raised, his grip tight. He was torn between his seething anger and the voice of reason. He could see Roderika's point, but the betrayal and the near-death experience weighed heavily on him.
"Nathaniel, we need to stay focused. We're so close. Let's use him. Let him guide us to Godrick. We have bigger things to deal with than him right now."
Nathaniel's breath came in heavy bursts. He glared at Gostoc, who continued to cower on the floor, then at Roderika, whose determination was unwavering.
"Fine," Nathaniel said, his voice strained. "But if he tries anything, anything at all, I won't hesitate to put down this motherfucker."
Roderika nodded, relief evident in her eyes. "Thank you, Nathaniel."
Gostoc scrambled to his feet. "Thank you, thank you both. I-I swear I'll help you."
As they followed Gostoc through the dimly lit corridors of Stormveil Castle, Nathaniel couldn't help but voice his scepticism.
"How are you gonna help us, Gostoc?" Nathaniel demanded, his voice laced with doubt. "You've already proven you can't be trusted. Why should we believe anything you say now?"
Gostoc, his eyes still wide with fear, glanced back at Nathaniel. He was wringing his hands nervously, his face pale and sweaty.
"Look," Gostoc said, "I know I messed up. I was coerced, and I'm not asking for forgiveness. I'm asking for a chance to make things right."
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. "And why should we give you that chance? What makes you think you can be of any help now?"
"I know the castle inside and out," Gostoc explained. "I know where the guards are stationed, the hidden paths, and the traps. I can guide you past the most dangerous areas and get you closer to Godrick."
Roderika, who had been silent, finally spoke up. "If what he says is true, then he might be able to help us navigate the castle and reach Godrick more effectively. We need all the advantages we can get."
Nathaniel was still skeptical but considered Roderika's point. "Alright, but you better not pull anything. If you try to double-cross us again, I won't hold back."
Gostoc nodded. "I understand. I swear, I'm committed to helping you. I'll lead you through the safest routes I know."
Nathaniel kept his gaze fixed on Gostoc, his grip on his weapon unwavering. "Then let's see what you've got. Lead the way."
Gostoc led them through winding hallways and hidden passages, his earlier bravado tempered by the seriousness of their situation. The tension was high, but Nathaniel and Roderika knew they had to rely on Gostoc's knowledge to get through the castle's dangerous terrain. Every step they took brought them closer to their goal, and Nathaniel remained vigilant, ready for whatever might come next.
As they followed Gostoc through the winding corridors of Stormveil Castle, they arrived at a large, dimly lit kitchen. The air was thick with the smell of rotting food and burnt wood. The flickering light from the overhead torches cast eerie shadows on the walls.
Gostoc gestured towards a shadowy corner of the room. "In here," he whispered urgently. "This is the safest path through the castle. We should—"
Roderika's eyes widened as she caught sight of a grotesque creature in the corner. Its misshapen body and multiple limbs were reminiscent of a spider, with cruelly grafted limbs and an unsettling, many-eyed face.
"That's the spider I was talking about," Roderika said, her voice trembling slightly.
Nathaniel's gaze fixed on the creature, and he froze, recognizing it immediately. "Hey, that's the creature that killed me."
Roderika turned to him, puzzled. "Killed you?"
Nathaniel's heart sank as he remembered Melina's warning about revealing too much. He quickly backpedalled. "I mean, fought me. It fought me when I first arrived here."
Roderika frowned.
Gostoc cleared his throat. "That's a grafted scion, one of the many horrors created by Godrick. They're dangerous, but we can't let it stop us."
The creature let out a low, guttural growl as it noticed them, its multiple eyes narrowing in their direction. It began to advance, its twisted limbs moving with a disturbing grace.
Nathaniel stepped forward, ready to face the beast. "Alright, let's deal with this thing. We need to get through this kitchen and keep moving."
Roderika took a deep breath, drawing her sword. "Be careful. This thing is more than just a simple monster."
Nathaniel nodded, his expression grim. "Got it. Let's take it down."
The scion lunged at them with surprising speed, its many limbs whipping through the air. Nathaniel dodged its attack, slashing at its limbs with his greatsword. Roderika joined in, her blade flashing as she struck at the creature's vulnerable spots.
The battle was intense, the creature's grotesque form making it a nightmarish opponent. Nathaniel and Roderika fought in sync, their movements precise and coordinated. After a gruelling struggle, they managed to overpower the scion, its monstrous body collapsing to the ground.
Panting, Nathaniel wiped sweat from his brow. "Alright, that's one less thing to worry about."
Roderika sheathed her sword, her hands trembling slightly. "Let's keep moving. We're not far from where we need to be."
"We're almost there. Just follow me." Gostoc said.
With the path ahead now clear, Nathaniel, Roderika, and Gostoc pressed on, each step bringing them closer to their goal and the looming confrontation with Godrick.
In the dim, flickering light of the torches, Nathaniel, Gostoc, and Roderika trudged through a narrow passage, their footsteps echoing eerily in the silence. As they emerged into a vast chamber, the sight before them was both grim and heartbreaking.
A massive mound of corpses lay piled in the centre of the room, the remains of countless souls who had met a gruesome end. The stench was overwhelming, a mixture of decay and iron that filled the air. The bodies were disfigured, many bearing the marks of brutal grafting. The sight was a stark reminder of the atrocities committed within the castle's walls.
Roderika's face turned pale as she saw the mound. She stumbled forward, her eyes searching desperately through the pile. "No… this can't be…"
Nathaniel's eyes scanned the mound, trying to make sense of the horror before him. "What's wrong, Roderika?"
She didn't answer immediately. Her hands dug through the heap of bodies with a frantic urgency, pushing aside the decaying flesh. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as she searched for something specific.
Finally, Roderika's hand closed around an object half-buried in the mound. She pulled it out with trembling fingers, revealing a small, intricately crafted item. It was a delicate memento, a keepsake that had been beautifully adorned with fine details. It was the Chrysalid's Memento, a small token of immense personal value.
Roderika's eyes filled with tears as she recognized the item. "This… this was a gift for my friend. It was meant to remind them of our bond, to help them remember their past." Her voice cracked with emotion as she clutched the memento close to her chest. "I… I didn't know…"
Nathaniel approached. "I'm sorry, Roderika. It's hard to see something so personal in a place like this."
Roderika nodded, her tears mingling with the grime on her face. "It's not just a memento. It's a symbol of everything we lost. My friend… they were taken by Godrick's madness. I have to do this. I have to make sure their sacrifice wasn't in vain."
Gostoc, observing from the sidelines, cleared his throat awkwardly. "We need to keep moving. There's no telling what else we might find here, and Godrick won't wait for us."
Roderika took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She wiped her tears away and tucked the memento safely into a pouch. "You're right. We can't let this stop us. Let's finish what we came here to do."
Nathaniel nodded in agreement. "We're with you. Let's get through this and end Godrick's reign of terror."
As they pressed on, the weight of their mission and the loss they had witnessed hung heavy in their hearts. Yet, the presence of the Chrysalid's Memento served as a poignant reminder of the personal stakes involved in their fight against the tyranny of Stormveil Castle.
Nathaniel, Gostoc, and Roderika crouched inside a small, crumbling building adjacent to the grand hall where Godrick the Grafted conducted his twisted methods. The room was dimly lit by the flickering light of a few scattered torches, their shadows dancing on the walls as if trying to escape the horror unfolding just beyond their view.
From their vantage point, they could see Godrick surrounded by his men, the air thick with the smell of blood and the sound of anguished pleas. Roderika's eyes were wide with horror as she tried to steady her breathing. She gripped Nathaniel's arm tightly, her knuckles white.
Inside the hall, the scene was grotesque. A man, trapped within a cage, was pleading desperately for mercy. His cries were choked with terror as Godrick's men began the horrific process of grafting. Godrick himself stood nearby, a cruel smile stretched across his face as he watched with cold detachment.
"Please, no! Mercy! I'll do anything!" the man cried, his voice cracking.
Godrick's response was chillingly calm. "Silence. The grafting must be done. Thy limbs wilt serve a greater purpose." He gestured to his men, who approached the cage with grim efficiency.
The men began their grim task, severing the man's arms and legs with clinical precision. The sound of the blade meeting flesh was nauseating, and Nathaniel felt a wave of revulsion wash over him. Roderika could not hold back her bile; she turned away and vomited quietly in the corner.
"What the fuck!?" Nathaniel exclaimed. The sight was beyond anything he had imagined, a nightmare made real.
Gostoc, who had been watching with a grim expression, shot Nathaniel a sharp glance. "Quiet! We cannot be discovered."
Godrick's men continued their work, methodically stitching the severed limbs onto Godrick's own body. The sight was a horrifying testament to Godrick's madness, his ambition to amass power through the suffering and degradation of others.
Godrick, unaware of their presence, continued to strut away, his men hurriedly tidying up the aftermath. "Clean this mess up. We hath more work to do. I must prepare for the Tarnished fools who think they can challenge me."
He strode off with a regal, albeit bloodstained, gait, his newly added limbs twitching as if still adjusting to their new form.
As Godrick departed, Nathaniel, Roderika, and Gostoc remained hidden, their hearts pounding from the sheer intensity of what they had witnessed.
"What the fuck...? Oh God. What the fuck? That guy is fucking insane..."
Gostoc nodded. "Aye. He's the worst kind. A powerful, mad king with no regard for life."
Roderika, still pale and trembling, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "We… we have to stop this. We can't let him continue this madness."
Nathaniel nodded. "Agreed. But we need a new plan. We can't just rush in like we were going to."
Gostoc, still maintaining his grim demeanour, spoke up. "Aye. We need to find a way to confront him without being torn apart ourselves. His power is amplified by these grafts, and it will not be easy to overcome."
"We should wait for a moment when he is less guarded, perhaps when he's away from his men. If we strike at the right time, we might stand a chance."
"Alright. Let's regroup and figure out our next move. We needa end this, for the sake of everyone he's tortured and for our own sanity."
With their resolve set, the three of them took a moment to compose themselves before venturing back into the shadows of the castle. They knew that confronting Godrick would be perilous, but the sight of the grafted man and the agony of the innocent reinforced their determination.
Nathaniel, Roderika, and Gostoc huddled in a dimly lit alcove just outside Godrick's chamber, the air thick with the stench of decay and desperation. Gostoc's eyes gleamed with a mixture of contempt and grim satisfaction as he shared a hushed revelation about the twisted ruler they were about to confront.
"You know," Gostoc began, "Godrick wasn't always this monstrosity. Once, he was a snivelling coward in the capital, dressed as a woman to flee his enemies."
Roderika's eyes widened in surprise. "Dressed as a woman? I can hardly imagine."
Gostoc nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, it gets better. He lost to Malenia, the Blade of Miquella. Defeated, humiliated, he begged and pleaded for his life. Went so far as to lick her boots, grovelling in the dirt like the wretch he is."
"So this so-called ruler is nothing but a coward who hides behind his fucked up grafting experiments."
Gostoc's smirk faded into a serious expression. "Exactly. He's always been a coward, hiding behind whatever power he could grasp."
"We call people like that where I come from, bitches. Godrick the Golden, more like Godrick the Bitch."
Gostoc laughed. "Good one!" Gostoc tone became serious. "However, that makes him even more dangerous now. He's desperate, and desperation can make a man do terrible things."
"We can't let this monster continue to rule. For the sake of those he's hurt, for my friends... he has to be stopped."
Nathaniel placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, let's put this motherfucker in his grave."
Gostoc glanced around, ensuring they were still hidden from view. "Remember, once you confront him, there's no turning back. He'll throw everything he has at you. Be ready for anything."
Nathaniel nodded. "We're ready. We've come too far to back down now."
Roderika took a deep breath. "Let's end this."
With a final nod of agreement, the trio emerged from their hiding spot, making their way toward Godrick's chamber. The closer they got, the more palpable the sense of impending confrontation became. Nathaniel's grip tightened around his weapon, Roderika's eyes shone with determination.