I had heard him
Long before this mongrel had even entered the sacred confines of the tomb, I was aware of his presence. As he had trudged through the great halls of my kings castle I could detect his vile presence. The stench of an undead, horrid and rotten like filth, unfit to be anywhere within reach of my kings home.
Yet now he was here. The most sacred of places. Intruding upon the safe haven of my lord, desiring to steal the greatest of Vendricks treasures. I had been meditating for hours, days, weeks even. Now I felt the closest thing to a challenge approaching.
And by the sacred oath I've taken, this intruder would not enter my kings holy sanctum.
I heard the clashing of steel from outside the chamber. The undead had without a doubt found the Syan Knights the king had brought here as protection. I soon heard the screams of one, and then two, and then finally a far more bellowing one. I knew then, that he had not only dispatched the Knights, but the dragonrider stationed here aswell.
I lifted my head as I heard footsteps behind me, the undead was approaching. Soon I felt him, standing just in front of the large gate that lead out into the crypt. I slowly rose, as I felt my arms coming back to life after ungodly amounts of time spent stationary. I slowly turned, chime in hand, and indeed there he was.
Clad in Armor stolen from the captain of the old fort, dear old Drummond, with a claymore resting on his shoulder. Not only a murderer and a thief, but a grave robber as well. I made a slight prayer and a promise to the old captain that his equipment should be kept safe and sound once the trespasser had been dealt with.
The trespasser himself had entered a stance fit for combat, his sword raised behind the shoulder. I nodded and swung my chime above my head, letting the bell ring, making all aware that the intruder was soon dealt with.
He leapt in, charging at me. I swung the chime at him, but it soon became clear his intentions were not on charging headfirst into combat. In stead he rolled nimbly underneath the shaft of my weapon, before letting his sword clip at my knee, bludgeoning it slightly but doing no real major damage.
I swung it back around, hoping to catch him in the back. I felt the impact as brass connected with Bradden steel, and he was thrown away towards the wall of the room. He pushed himself off the floor without any issue, although I did notice he was walking a bit weirdly now.
I was the one to charge this time, chime held above my head I ran at him and smashed it into the ground. The undead however proved to still be as nimble as before despite the hit he had taken, because he rolled to the left and behind me. I anticipated the sting of a sword, but in stead I heard somebody drinking. I hastily turned and was faced with the undead drinking from a flask made of vaguely transparent green glass. I had heard of the Estus, powerful healing items that seemingly only worked on undead, but I had never imagined it being liquid.
I wasted no more time staring, as once again I struck forward. At first I could see nothing, as the dust the chime had kicked up blocked my vision. A second later it had dissipated, but once again the undead had evaded my blow. This time however, there was no sounds of drinking to be heard. In stead I felt a sharp pain in my back as the undead had smashed the hilt of the weapon into my back. I jumped quickly away, fearing that if I stayed I might suffer fatal damage.
The undead however, proved to be more versatile than I had given him credit for. In his right hand was now a mace, in his left hand a chime of the Lindelt church, and the mace was glowing with powerful lightning, I was facing a follower of the gods like myself.
I resorted to the same tactics as him. If I was to fight it would be on even terms. I let the bell of my chime ring once more, but this time I sang the song of the gods, calling upon their aid. I felt power surge through me, but I soon noticed something was wrong.
This power was nothing like the holy and warm feeling of miracles. This power was clingy, it was intoxicating. It gripped hold of my body, and I could barely maintain a thought. I knew immediately what this was, the power of the dark.
I charged at the undead, moving faster than I had before. My hit was almost too fast for my combatant, as he only managed to back step at the last minute. But where before a single hit would have caused me to stagger, I quickly stepped forward and landed another hit. This one connected, as my opponent was flung backwards and hit the wall.
He had a harder time pushing himself up, and he wobbled a bit from side to side for a little while. He assumed his combat stance once more, although this time with shaky legs.
I charged at him, and swung my chime from right to left. This time however he was prepared. He ducked underneath and swung the mace right into my arm, causing me to lose my grip and let the chime fall to the ground. I looked towards him, just as soon as I had I saw the mace being swung upwards towards my jaw.
I fell backwards as I felt the impact going through my helmet all the way through my skull. I landed hard on the stone floor, causing the entire room to shake, and a few of the pillars to crumble slightly. I felt the undead stepping onto my chest, soon I could see him staring down towards me, mace in hand. I closed my eyes and waited for the finishing blow.
I felt it as the mace first struck my head. It did not kill me however, but I had by now lost all feeling below my neck. Then the second blow came, still not killing me, but I could now taste blood, and my vision became blurry. The third strike I felt how it clearly fractured the skull, and then my head dropped.
The last thing I saw before the blackness enveloped my vision, was the undead walking towards my kings inner sanctum. My one purpose, my one task. I had failed.
As these thoughts passed through my mind, I felt the comforting blackness of death envelop me, and as soon I felt nothing. But little did I know that this would not be the end.
