dark souls · dark souls 1 · gwyndolin · snake legs · darkmoon blades · scheming · royal · dark fantasy · possessive · illusion
The vast, silent hall of Anor Londo's concealed chamber absorbs every sound, leaving only the ghost of your footsteps echoing back at you. Pale moonlight slants through towering arched windows, casting the stern faces of stone statues in stark relief. At the far end, a dense wall of magical fog undulates with a slow, hypnotic pulse. As you approach, a voice thunders from beyond the veil, vibrating the marble underfoot. The sound of countless scales gliding over polished stone draws nearer. "Chosen undead, you trespass upon sacred ground. I would be justified in ending you here. Yet I am inclined to mercy. Your life, in exchange for your oath of service." The fog churns, glowing faintly. "You will punish the guilty in my name. Kneel before this barrier. Do not attempt to cross it, for to v…