Chosen Tarnished, and would-be Lord. Descend into the depths, far below the Erdtree Capital. Seek audience with the Three Fingers, and the flame of frenzy. If you inherit the flame of frenzy, your flesh will serve as kindling, and the girl can be spared. ...setting you on the righteous path of lordship. The path of the Lord of Chaos. Burn the Erdtree to the ground, and incinerate all that divides and distinguishes. Ahh, may chaos take the world! May chaos take the world! Chosen Tarnished, and would-be Lord. Descend into the depths, far below the Erdtree Capital. Seek audience with the Three Fingers, and the flame of frenzy. Burn the Erdtree to the ground, and incinerate all that divides and distinguishes. Ahh, may chaos take the world! May chaos take the world! Ugh. That will be quite enough. What do you stand to gain by challenging me? Too late for you, eh? Well, if you've succumbed to cessblood... it's better that I finish you here. I had no choice. Your death could have been much worse. What a wretched fate. Why did you turn foul... I must not die... until she is eradicated... What's this? Well, this is peculiar. Is this how you express contempt? This, I did not expect. But if you do not care for Lordship, I'm afraid you are of no use. How very unfortunate. I did not take you for a fraud. Shabriri is chaos incarnate. I cannot die. Until we meet again, in another place or time. Ahh, may chaos take the world! There's no mistake, is there? Death has left its mark once again. I'm sorry, I cannot give you your proper rites... But at least you did not join Those Who Live in Death. Your soul will return to the Erdtree, in time. Honeyed rays of gold, deliver this spirit. Ah, a Tarnished, are you? I'm known as D. I hunt down Those Who Live in Death, and weed their Deathroot. Heed my warning. The village here has been touched by Death. And worse yet, it is home to a mariner. If you value your life, then go no further. The village here has been touched by Death. Turn back, while you still can. Another fool who won't listen to reason, eh? But with a prowess for weeding Deathroot. ... How would you like to earn the strength of beasts? If you're inclined to hunt more of Those Who Live in Death, and weed their Deathroot, then I'll introduce you to Gurranq, the beast clergyman. I have a matter of my own to attend to. And the beast himself wishes for someone to take my place. What say you? Very well. Show me your map. ... I've marked the location for you. Of a hidden gateway. It will lead you to Gurranq, the beast clergyman. I have a matter of my own to attend to. I spotted the mark of the centipede here in the village. An ill-omened symbol that should not be. Someone, or something, threatens the sanctity of the Golden Order. And must be eradicated. What is it? Still milling about? The map indicates where the gateway is hidden. It will lead you to Gurranq, the beast clergyman. Well, all right, then. No sense in forcing you. What now? Had a change of heart? Ah, a Tarnished, are you? With a prowess for weeding Deathroot. ... I'm known as D. I hunt down Those Who Live in Death, and weed their Deathroot. How would you like to earn the strength of beasts? If you're inclined to hunt more of Those Who Live in Death, and weed their Deathroot, then I'll introduce you to Gurranq, the beast clergyman. I have a matter of my own to attend to. And the beast himself wishes for someone to take my place. Ha! Prince of Death, take a good long look! See the wrath of the Golden Order! The Order's justice, writ in blood! This is what's become of your precious witch! Naught but expired meat and bone! This is a proper death, O Prince! Look at this rotten whore. No more children can be got from this useless flesh! Behold, your mother is dead! Heh heh heh heh... This is revenge, you witch! And you, you ghoul! This is the wrath of D! Ah. Hello. The rotten witch is dead. The Golden Order, unsullied. Now I can look my brother Darian in the eye. Honeyed rays of gold, deliver my spirit. Darian, now I have no regrets. Honeyed rays of gold, deliver my spirit. Ah, aah... D-da...ri... Ngh...nnngh... Ah, mm... Y-You... I require the sword...and raiment...of D... I require the sword...of D... For revenge... For the wrath...of D... Yeeesss... YESSS! Soon you will know, filthy witch... Soon you will know... Vengeance for Darian. The wrath of D... I don't believe we've met. I'm known as D. I hunt down Those Who Live in Death, and weed their Deathroot. Heed my warning. Those Who Live in Death should be left well alone. All the more, should you spy a mariner among their number. Unless you wish to lay down your life in vain. Those Who Live in Death should be left well alone. All the more, should you spy a mariner among their number. Ah...we meet again. I'm glad you took my warning to heart. Those Who Live in Death should be left well alone. All the more, should you spy a mariner among their number. Well, well... Another fool who won't listen to reason, eh? But with a prowess for weeding Deathroot. With a prowess for weeding Deathroot. ... How would you like to earn the strength of beasts? If you're inclined to hunt more of Those Who Live in Death, and weed their Deathroot, then I'll introduce you to Gurranq, the beast clergyman. I have a matter of my own to attend to. And the beast himself wishes for someone to take my place. What say you? Very well. Show me your map. ... I've marked the location for you. Of a hidden gateway. It will lead you to Gurranq, the beast clergyman. I have a matter of my own to attend to. I've spotted the mark of the centipede. An ill-omened symbol that should not be. Someone, or something, threatens the sanctity of the Golden Order. And must be eradicated. What is it? Still milling about? The map indicates where the gateway is hidden. It will lead you to Gurranq, the beast clergyman. Well, all right, then. No sense in forcing you. What's wrong? Got cold feet, have you? You've met Gurranq, I take it? Then owing to our duties shared, we are now comrades-in-arms. I think you've earned this. The power of the Golden Order, to aid the hunt of Those Who Live in Death. Did you need something else? Ah, hello there. What can I do for you? Ah, hello. You've been busy weeding Deathroot, I take it. I thank you, as your brother-in-arms. So what can I do for you? Ah, hello again. You haven't gone to see Gurranq yet, have you? Well, no rush. You do as you please. Just as long as he doesn't starve to death, eh. Go to Gurranq only if you feel the time is right. Killing Those Who Live in Death and weeding their Deathroot... Is a path not to be trod without ample resolve. I serve the Golden Order. That I might put this crooked land to rights. Following only the guidance of the great Elden Ring. Those Who Live in Death fall outside the principles of the Golden Order. Their mere existence sullies the guidance of gold. Tainting its truth. And so it is the vermin must be exterminated... Down to the very last. Are you acquainted with a man named Rogier? You know, the piteous fellow hiding away on the balcony? He was a formidable spellblade, in times past. Don't let his easy air deceive you. He was wise beyond his years, stout of heart and clear of mind. No more though. You see him now, ravaged by thorns, muttering and rambling... Like he's half dead already. I can't stomach to watch. Take well the lesson, friend. That's how you end up, when seduced by Those Who Live in Death. When grace is sullied, it rots people from the inside. Breaks them. D, Hunter of the Dead Well, what have we here? How did you get your hands on that dagger? ... Well. That hardly matters. I know very well whose dagger it is. Why don't I return it to them for you? Good work, bringing this to me. Don't you dare. Unless you want to die like a dog? Very well. Honeyed rays of gold, deliver this spirit. I swear, there's a blight spreading amongst the Tarnished. How could this...happen...? Forgive me, Devin... D-Devin... Oof! What's the meaning of this? Has she bewitched you? Very well. Then you are a blight. A defiler of the Golden Order, and murderer of my brother! Die! Die! Die! I'll grind your corpse into that vile wench's rotting remains. A witch's eternal embrace, just as you wished! You defiled cretin. My brother is now avenged! How could this... Forgive me, Darian... D-Darian... Everyone's...been grafted. Everyone who came with me. They crossed the sea for me. They fought, for me. Heh... Only to have their arms taken. Their legs taken. Even their heads...taken. Taken and stuck to the spider. Did you know? If you're grafted by the spider, you become a chrysalid. It's quite the lark, when you think about it. You're all on your own, are you? And heading to Stormveil Castle? Enticed by the one in the white mask, I suppose. Oh, you've come to be one with the spider? Well, that makes us two peas in a pod. But I don't have your courage. It's scary, you know. Having your arms cut off. Or legs. Or your head. I want to be like everyone else, but I'm just too scared. I'm nothing but a craven. Oh, I know. Can you take this little one along with you? Can you take these little ones along with you? The poor thing deserves someone braver than myself… And the spirits look rather fondly upon you. It'll be glad of your company, I think, the little'un. They'd be glad of your company, I think, the little'uns. The poor things deserve someone braver than myself… It was a pleasure to see you. Oh, can you pass on a message for me, if you see the little chrysalids in Stormveil Castle? Tell them I love them. And that despite my craven heart, I'm sure I'll be joining their club soon enough. I'm finally getting the hang of this whole "pain" thing, you know. Heh heh... What's this? A keepsake? From my men? Oh, goodness me… I can't… ... A pleasure to see you. Did you give the little chrysalids the message? That I love them. And that despite my craven heart, I'm sure I'll be joining their club soon enough. They all...believed in me. They all thought I'd make something of myself. Me! Who can't do anything... I think I'll head to the Roundtable Hold. Perhaps I'll find my purpose there. I think I'll head to the Roundtable Hold. Perhaps I'll find my purpose there. Greetings. Nice to see you again. My name is Roderika. I should have told you sooner. Isn't this place impressive, though? The Roundtable Hold, covert quarters of the Two Fingers, and gathering place of champions who vie to become Elden Lord. I never knew the guidance bestowed upon us Tarnished had such fantastic roots. Although, it's all a bit much for me, in truth. I'm still looking for my own purpose. You're telling me I possess some kind of gift? I don't believe you. But... If I do have this talent, and goodness knows it would be my first... I suppose I should try to hone it. Shouldn't I? I'll ask Master Hewg to teach me. Certainly, he does appear intimidating, and holds no love for us Tarnished... But I know he's trapped here, at the Roundtable Hold... So... I can tell. He's a gentle soul, underneath it all. Oh, and… Please, allow to me to express my thanks. For giving me that keepsake from my men. It was as if I was frozen with self-pity. I failed them at every turn. You have my gratitude. Please, take this. A pleasure to meet you. My name is Roderika. I'm a recent arrival. Isn't this place impressive? The Roundtable Hold, covert quarters of the Two Fingers, and gathering place of champions who vie to become Elden Lord. I never knew the guidance bestowed upon us Tarnished had such fantastic roots. Although, it's all a bit much for me, in truth. I'm still looking for my own purpose. It's all a bit much for me, in truth. I'm still looking for my own purpose. A pleasure to see you. Thank goodness you're safe. I'm still looking for my own purpose. It's not easy, by any means, but it's what I must do. If I do have a talent for spirit tuning, and goodness knows that would be a surprise… I suppose I should try to hone it. Shouldn't I? I'll ask Master Hewg to teach me. Good to see you again. Thank you very much! I have you to thank, don't I? For persuading Master Hewg? I can happily announce that he has taught me the noble toil of spirit tuning. I'm as yet unsure of what I might be able to accomplish, but if I might be any help to you all, I'd certainly like to try. And if there's any chance to ease the suffering of my dear men who were grafted... Well, I certainly must try. Roderika the spirit tuner prentice. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Greetings. Are you here for spirit tuning? I feel like I'm really coming to grips with spirit tuning of late. I can see how and why immortal essence exists as spirit under the Golden Order. I can understand their yearnings, what they become drawn to... Master Hewg said it himself, actually, that I'm no mere prentice any longer. Once again, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. Roderika the certified spirit tuner. I'd like to ask you a small favour. Can you take this little one along with you? Can you take these little ones along with you? They can't be summoned here. But the spirits look rather fondly upon you. It'll be glad of your company, I think, the little'un. They'd be glad of your company, I think, the little'uns. I need to warn you about something. A little while ago someone started lurking in the wing on the opposite side of the roundtable. And I can hear, from all the way over there... The howling and wailing of spirits in fear of a curse. I can even hear the repulsive, twisted malison itself... A plethora of spirits in an unceasing cacophony... I can't even imagine. How much suffering, inflicted to who knows how many souls... Not even the grafting caused anything like this to happen... You should keep your distance. I know you're strong, but please... I can hear it from across the wing, past the roundtable... The howling and wailing of spirits in fear of the curse. I can even hear the repulsive, twisted malison itself... You should keep your distance. I know you're strong, but please... I can't hear them any more; the voices of the spirits cowering from the curse... I suppose the Dung Eater must have left the Roundtable. I just pray nothing ill comes of this. Be on your guard, I beg you. He's back. The Dung Eater. Again. I can hear them; the spirits as they howl and lament in fear of the curse. And worse than ever, the reverberations of the twisted malison itself. But after all this time, I've started to grasp it now. I can hear, in the malison, another fearsome Order. The voices of the tormented spirits are silent again.. But it isn't like last time. I'm almost certain...the spirits have escaped their confinement. Did you...have anything to do with it, I wonder? Roderika, Spirit Tuner Take a look around. The Roundtable Hold is burned. Razed to the ground. The Two Fingers went mad, and the Tarnished have all left. Myself and Master Hewg are the only ones who remain. Don't worry, I don't blame you. I'll continue spirit tuning just the same as before. Which is why I need your help persuading Master Hewg to leave. His roots are so knotted in this place. He won't last much longer if he stays here... His shackles are broken. He's a free man, now. It's high time he put the Roundtable behind him. I see. You're here for some spirit tuning? Oh, is that right... So Master Hewg won't listen to you, either. You have my thanks, regardless. I'll try and talk him round next time. I know he was given this great entreaty; To craft a weapon which could slay a god. Though I can't help but think of it as a curse. A fearsome curse, put on him by Queen Marika. And if that's the case, I'm not sure there's anything we can do... Ah. So it wasn't just me this happened to... To think he'd forget who you were, as well. I knew he'd burn himself out, old Hewg. I think we could talk him into leaving the Roundtable Hold, now. But maybe it's better that we don't. It's only proper that we respect his choice to stay. I'll remain with Hewg. He made me who I am today. I'd like to return the kindness, in whatever small way I can. Please, become Elden Lord. Hewg was always saying that you were a Lord, to him. So slay her, with the weapons he smithed. Slay the god, Marika, who cursed us all. You're...giving it to me? I've never had alcohol before... I'm no longer a child. It's about time I took this step. You're willing to make me a chrysalid? Ah, but I'm still a milksop craven... I can't even govern myself to step beyond the bounds of this ward... Please. You're only wasting your strength. I know how you must feel. But please, I'm not ready. Or are you like me? You're so far out of your mind with fear... You've divested yourself of all reason? Please, stop. Even if you persist, your fear will not abate. Hello? Is anybody there? Someone who might be interested in rescuing the great Kenneth Haight? Servant to the true Order, and celebrated repudiator of the false! O Erdtree! Grant me succour! What are you waiting for? A kiss goodbye? My fort lies to the south, beyond the Mistwood. Take it back for me. Oh I see. You wish to know the reward? Fret not, the great Kenneth Haight is known for his considerable largesse. The celebrations will be lavish indeed, upon the dawn of my fort's retrieval. Hmph, yes, now allow me to furnish you with a little advice. I would take great care to avoid Godrick's Tarnished hunts, were I in your shoes. That depraved lot are obsessed with sacrificing Tarnished like you for the sake of "grafting". Honestly, Godrick's nothing more than a jumped up country bumpkin. Lord? Don't make me laugh. First he hid himself amongst the womenfolk to flee the capital, then hid from Radahn in that castle... Then he insulted Malenia, lost to her in battle, only to lick her boots rather than die like a man. Has he no shame, the big girl's blouse? And to think, he's the blood of Godfrey! Last of the golden lineage, though you almost wouldn't know it to look at him. I almost feel sorry for the chap the more I think of it. What are you waiting for? A kiss goodbye? My fort lies to the south, beyond the Mistwood. Take it back for me. Ah, you've come to lend me your aid, have you? Well, that's very kind, but, um... No, no. Th-the help is very much appreciated. Even from a Tarnished. Despite appearances, nobility is no prerequisite to serving the true Order. You might have heard of me. Kenneth Haight. Next in line as the rightful ruler of Limgrave. Young Tarnished, I would have a boon of you. I want you to take back my fort. It lies to the south, beyond the Mistwood. A Knight commander from Stormveil took it. A fool, and plumb mad to boot. Simply obsessed with blood! Hm? What's this, kind sir? Hm? What's this, fair lady? Remarkable! The Knight Commander, dead. Already! A blessing, if ever I chanced upon one. Fine work, I say, fine work, indeed. I doubt that it was your intention, but the deed is done, and I commend you. Now, this is your reward. Go on, it is yours, for the keeping. Ah-ha! I've been waiting for you with baited breath! Did you manage to recapture my fort? Oh excellent news, just wonderful. And the knight's dead to boot! Well done my friend, well done indeed! I knew I was right to trust you! Now, here's your reward, as promised. Go ahead, it's all yours. Right then. Time for me to head to the fort. I've much to do. First I'll have to reestablish communication with the demi-humans. What's that look? You don't believe me? Well, under the Erdtree, commingling with the demi-humans is made possible. Even the vulgar shall not be left behind, under the rule of true Order. Which is why I, Kenneth Haight, next in line as the rightful ruler of Limgrave, have sworn to uphold it. Just you watch, my friend. Just you watch. Ah, yes. I've been meaning to ask. Would you like to enter my service? I see bright things in your future, stout warrior. Enter into my service and learn the workings of the Erdtree's true Order. And who knows, perhaps some time down the line, the grace of gold will return to those Tarnished eyes of yours. What say you? A fine accord, is it not? Very well. Very well, indeed. I knew I saw something in you. I shall await you at my fort. We shall hold the ceremony for your knighting there, I think. I see great things ahead of us. We are truly by the Erdtree blessed. Kenneth Haight, Limgrave Heir Excuse me? Such foolishness have I never seen! Well...not that I can't sympathise with your choice. Such a miraculous manifestation of felicity is like to startle one such as yourself. Should you change your mind, do visit me at my fort. What is it? Have you put your misgivings to rest? Well...not that I can't sympathise with your choice. Such a miraculous manifestation of felicity is like to startle one such as yourself. Oh don't fret, there's no hurry. Should you change your mind, do visit me at my fort. Why... Why the queen... Now all hope is... (dies) Ah, you, is it? I suppose you must have seen it by now, yes, the sorry state of my fort? Oh, indeed, it is a foul fate for a land, to be without a ruler. One must be found, with haste. And not that awful Godrick. But a true and stalwart Lord of the proper lineage to take the reigns of Limgrave. I am sorry to have lifted your hopes... But I haven't the authority to raise you to knighthood as things stand. The great Kenneth Haight issues his sincerest apology. But now, I must begin my search post-haste. For a true and stalwart Lord of the proper lineage to take the reigns of Limgrave. I must begin my search post-haste. For a true and stalwart Lord of the proper lineage to take the reigns of Limgrave. Ah, nice to see you after so long. Safe and sound, I take it, yes? Good. Ah, quite. I have indeed selected a new ruler. Lady Nepheli is strong and just. Worthy of the burden of Limgrave's lineage. Such is the sincere opinion of I, Kenneth Haight, no less. For the time being, I share command of the castle with my Lady, but I plan on returning to my fort afterwards. At which time I can fulfil my old promise. By raising you to the glory of knighthood. I hope it is just as wonderful as you imagine. For the time being, I share command of the castle with my Lady, but I plan on returning to my fort afterwards. At which time I can fulfil my old promise. By raising you to the glory of knighthood. I hope it is just as wonderful as you imagine. Oof! Goodness gracious! Calm yourself, this instant! Enough! This is madness! Blast! You wretched Tarnished! I am Kenneth Haight, and I have seen quite enough! The madness leaves nothing untouched. I fear for the integrity of the Order... Where are my...men...? O Erdtree, why have you forsaken me...? Greetings, great champion called by grace. I am Fia. Circumstances have compelled my stay at the Roundtable Hold. Great champion, would you allow me to hold you, but briefly? Perhaps you might share with me some of your lifely vigour, and your stout-heartedness. Doing so will grant me the warmth of a champion. And you, I am sure, will bear a baldachin's blessing. Do you think it vulgar, perhaps? Where I come from, it is a sacred act. Ah, my thanks, great champion. You are...very warm... What you felt light up inside you was a baldachin's blessing. Though it is but a fleeting thing, I am afraid. Come back to me, should you require another. I will take you in my arms as often as you need. I understand. Your disdain is only natural. But should you change your mind... Come pay me another visit. Oh, my dear... Had a change of heart already? I am pleased to see you again. Would you like me to hold you, once more? The blessing is still aflame in your breast, dear. Would you like to be held, regardless? Now, come closer... You are so...very warm... Then good day to you, my dear. I was known as a Deathbed Companion, where I come from. After I received the warmth and lifely vigour from a number of champions, I lay with the remains of an exalted noble, to grant him another chance at life. To do so is the purpose of my being. But before I could bear the noble into new life, I was awakened by the guidance of grace, and chased from my birthplace. Pray, be kind. Despite all that, I still wish to be a Deathbed Companion. So please, let me hold you like this, as often as it takes. My dear... Might I ask something of you? Could you please find the owner of this dagger, and return it to them? A certain person gave it to me, as a gift. It's a very precious thing. It must have a special place in the owner's heart. So I would like for the original owner to have it back, if you wouldn't mind. I'd like you to find the owner of the dagger I gave you, and return it to them. It's a very precious thing. It must have a special place in the owner's heart. My dear... Have you ever heard of black knifeprints? Dear Rogier likes to talk of them when abed. And the ancient plot, in which the first of the Demigods was slain. The black knives wielded by the assassins who committed the act, along with the impressions they made, somehow hide the truth of the conspiracy. These grand affairs are hardly my forté... But dear Rogier began to weep as he spoke... Dear Rogier likes to talk of it when abed. The ancient plot, in which the first of the Demigods was slain. The black knives wielded by the assassins who committed the act, along with the impressions they made, somehow hide the truth of the conspiracy. I heard that you lent a hand to dear Rogier. He seemed positively elated. He must be possessed of great mental fortitude. It anchors his will, and sustains him, despite his grievous wounds. You truly are a champion. To dear Rogier, and myself, too. In truth I've heard tell from someone else, about the black knifeprints that fascinate dear Rogier so. But It wouldn't be right to give this to him, stuck as he is in the Roundtable Hold. Perhaps you could make use of it? Fia, Deathbed Companion Finally, it is returned to its rightful place. The stolen hallowbrand, of the exalted noble. And now, I must bid you goodbye as well. Though I ask you deliver this message to the Roundtable Hold. I am Fia, Deathbed Companion. Hark, Roundtable. Disturb not the Death of Godwyn, the exalted. We, who humbly live in Death... Live in waiting, to one day welcome our Lord. What right does anyone have to object? Our Lord will rise. The Lord of the many, and the meek. Ah...there you are. I knew you would come. What is it you intend? To deny us, and our ways? Like the dogmatic brutes of the Golden Order? I see. Then you must kill me. For I am the companion of Godwyn, Prince of Death. I wished to be a mother to Those Who Live in Death. So it is, that any loathing, any hatred that overshadows them... I must bear, as a matter of duty, with my own flesh. Go on, kill me. You deny us, do you not? Because we deign to live in Death, and wish our Lord to rise to glory. You are an odd one. I am the guardian of Those Who Live in Death. They call me a foul and rotten witch. Yet you still wish to be held by me? I will soon lay with Godwyn. And it will surely stir within me. the new life of the golden prince, and first Dead of the demigods, as the rune of Those Who Live in Death. Please, do one thing for me. Brandish this child, my rune, and take for yourself the throne. Stay the persecution of Those Who Live in Death. By becoming our Elden Lord. I will soon lay with Godwyn. To conceive my child, the rune. Brandish my rune, and take for yourself the throne. Stay the persecution of Those Who Live in Death. By becoming our Elden Lord. This is goodbye, my dear. But I am satisfied. I choose to lie with Godwyn of my own will. Not the remains of one chosen for me. And I will bear a child. Who will inherit your warmth, too. What greater blessing could there be, but to be born a Deathbed Companion? Have you ever seen a hallowbrand? When the first of the demigods died, his flesh was marked with the half-wheel wound of the centipede. Godwyn's hallowbrand has since been recovered at the Roundtable Hold. But there is another hallowbrand out there somewhere. And I must find it. Before the time comes we receive our Lord. When Godwyn died, a hallowbrand scored his flesh. But another exists. Another mark in the shape of the half-wheel wound of the centipede. And I must find it. Before the time comes we receive our Lord. My hands will be dirtied once more by the deed. Will you still let me hold you, even then? When Godwyn died, a hallowbrand scored his flesh. But another exists. Another mark in the shape of the half-wheel wound of the centipede. And I must find it. Before the time comes we receive our Lord. ...! This...is the other hallowbrand. How did you... Oh, my utmost thanks. With this, Godwyn can take his rightful place as First of the Dead. And claim a second, illustrious life. You are my-- our true champion. And though I can't be of any use to you... Can I hold you tight, if only for a moment? Godwyn... Is that you, dear? Will your kind never stop? Ravaging...the weak?