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Soapstone - White
“Chosen Undead. Your fate... is to succeed the Great Lord Gwyn. So that you may link the Fire, cast away the Dark, and undo the curse of the Undead.”
These were the words spoken to me by Frampt, the Kingseeker. I suppose, at the time, I was honored to hear his words. To know that you, above anyone else, are destined to cleanse the world of its impurities, and bring life back to a lifeless land. Those words spurred me on, even more than the assistance of the knight who appeared to free me from the Undead Asylum.
And so I ventured far. I killed the Chaos witch, and the Gargoyles which guarded the church. I rang the bells. I bested the fortress, despite its denizens best efforts to stop my advance. Not even the living armor which resided atop the fortress could best me. It was only once the beast had fallen from the highest point, that I realized my path was blocked. Caved in, by centuries past. That is when they appeared.
The demons, for that is what they appeared to be to me, must have sensed my intent. My sense of purpose. For they lifted me high into the sky, and over the mountains which kept this cursed land contained.
Even here, in this so called kingdom of the gods, nothing could stand up to me. My quest took me through their chambers, their abandoned halls adorned with great jewels and ornate carvings. And as I forged ahead, I began to feel something... odd. Something disheartening. I realized that nothing could stop me. No one could stand before my might.
This land had been abandoned by these gods, if you could call them that. Abandoned because of what? They were scared of these demons? These creatures that even I, as a mortal undead, could vanquish with any modicum of effort? A fallacy at best. I began to question my journey, and the task which was set forth to me. Why should I save this land, when those who resided in it abandoned it to a dark fate?
Once it became clear to me, I began to return to my home, to my cage. Where things did not make sense because there was nothing to understand. However, I heard a voice. Someone... calling me. High above the halls and causeways, beyond the rooms and demons. I hearkened to it, and followed the trail.
The voice had guards, however, and these were not the demons I had previously fought. A large being, and an upright lion, both clad in golden armor. They fell eventually, as everything did. Beyond them, the voice. A woman, larger and grander than any I had ever seen, even before my rebirth. She gave me what I had come for. The great container, Lordvessel. She had only called me to further my quest? Why would one such as she, with her size and might, not pursue this end herself? I left in disgust, and in doing so, revealed her presence to the demons of this once great land.
During my travels to return to my cage, I quickly realized I was trapped within this city. There was no way out. Even as I pondered, the sky began to grow dark. The sun faded, and left behind a husk of itself. Grasping the vessel in my hands, I found myself back in front of the serpent. The kingseeker, however, was dead. Gone before my eyes, his body slashed and burned by some unknown force. Even here, far from the great city, the darkness was spreading, and its touch was poison.
Moving to the church, I found the pardoner, skewered upon his own sword. Down below, the blacksmith, crushed by his own hammer. In the forest, I found the hunters slain by beasts, and the white cat strangled with her own tail. I realized what I had done, and that it was too late to stop it. My world would fall, and I was the cause.
And so I wandered. Eventually, I found myself on an overlook, staring at a barren, dark landscape. It was the place where I once met the knight of the sun. And at that moment, I remember what he had given me. The stone. White and glorious as the sun, with the power to warp time itself.
I would not let any others abandon their world, as I did mine. Traveling through the church, and back through the fortress, I would carve my sign anywhere I could think. Even as the demons once again carried me to the great city, I carved my sign on the stone steps.
They called. I answered, always. Unwavering and mighty, I would ensure that all fell before those who summoned me. As a phantom, I was truly undead. Immortal. If I fell, I could simply be called upon, again and again, until the monsters fell. I would never allow any warrior to waver. To walk away, and allow their world to fall to the darkness. And so, I became a phantom; forever living, not in my own world, but as a pillar of strength in others. I would fight for them, and fall for them. Destroy their enemies, save their friends, and one day, perhaps I would be allowed to join my own in death.
This is my story; I write it to serve as a warning, and a message. Should you ever find yourself at an impasse, surrounded by enemies or simply lost, you simply need to look for my sign. I will come to your aid, until you have use for me no longer.
I am the undead.