Wayward Soul

Honor is just a word.

[boozerman]

Games Scenery → Dark Souls 2 (2014) From Software

[wrenhavenriver]

To escape this dreadful Hunter’s Dream, halt the source of the spreading scourge of beasts, lest the night carry on forever. Behold! A Paleblood sky! The red moon hangs low, and beasts rule the streets. Are we left no other choice than to burn it all to cinders?

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

The girl was at once shy and wild.

D. H. Lawrence, from The Complete Works; “The Rainbow,” wr. c. 1919

[inksplit]

[arcusxx]

[mirayama]

[angelmonstrosity]

[crooked-keeper]

esoteric-stratagem‌:

“Most of the time they are completely harmless, too far gone to even move. It’s the ones who still believe they’re guarding a fortress from giants you need to worry about,” she explained, wiping the soot from her blade. “A lot of the hollows around here just want to protect the little they remember, I think.”

She rocked a stone back and forth with her foot before kicking it down into the depths below, the fiery pit she still couldn’t access. Of course the salamanders preferred to be left alone, but who knew just how much material was left untouched by those who feared the creatures guarding it. Brynne shook her head, grabbing the halberd from the fallen knight. Sturdy, but definitely wasn’t as good as her current weapon.

“I’m not surprised in the slightest. From my time here, it’s easy to get completely lost in the lands you travel to. You lose sense of time and distance, and then you forget mundane things. “Have I bathed today?” or “What did I have for breakfast this morning?” Then it becomes more common, you forget important information and then even your family’s names escape you. Eventually you forget your own.”

It was an incredibly cruel fate to endure. Sometimes she’d catch herself falling into that trap herself, forgetting basic details. But Brynne remembered the reason she came here, even if some allies she’d come across had long forgotten themselves. There was a lot to lose and time never seemed to be an issue.

“Giants? I wonder who won,” he asked dejectedly, already knowing the answer. Gazing around at the destruction, it was clear both sides had lost--though some might still stand.

Just not the particular fellow lying before them now. It was a loathsome joke, he thought, averting his eyes from both the body and her. 

Their desire to protect what they loved, to save people--it was the very thing that made these creatures so dangerous after the final embers of their humanity cooled. It was this perversion of hope that made Rhys so sick to his stomach. 

He remembered all the times he thought a blade’s stroke might be mercy to such a nightmare. But as he looked on at Brynne, the cursed child, he realized there was no such thing. The mercy of the blade was only for the living’s sake, not theirs.

Rhys stooped low to the ground, whispered a prayer for both their sake, then began the arduous work of removing the fallen’s vambraces and greaves and taking them for his own. If they lasted well enough this long to be a danger to them, then they would last a little while longer. 

He rose to Brynne and wrapped his fingers around the red hilt of the halberd, his fingers lightly clasping over her own. They felt cold even through his gloves. He lingered there for a moment in silence, meeting her eyes as best he could.

Whether this was her end or her beginning, he would be there for it.

“...Let’s keep going,” he said. “I wanted to see the ocean from here.”

He plucked the staff from her hands and began walking deeper into the fortress to the beat of threes, two footsteps and the sound of the butt of the halberd tapping the cobblestone. Both echoed off the vaulting, crumbled ceilings, dust falling onto their hair every so often. 

Rusted swords and broken pikes lay embedded in debris of stone and tree trunk all around the chambers they passed. He wondered how this became these tools’ final resting place, rather than the palms of their owners. 

Before long their was daylight upon their faces as they stepped through an archway to the central courtyards, now drowned with the river’s overflow. Where once their may have been stairs, now there was only winding tree branches and vines that scaled the high walls with ease. 

The hunter put a foot out onto the bark, testing the strength of both it and his resolve--before offering a hand out to Brynne for balance. 

It must have been a beautiful place at one point--as beautiful as a fortress can be. He could sense the pride in the stonework of the walls and the high towers of the perimeter. Even now, the old timbers and rock held their shape for these final two visitors--nothing like the envoys of royalty that perhaps might have graced the halls before. 

[aseaofquotes]

Dia Reeves, Bleeding Violet

[trailcams]

source

[manga-and-stuff]

Manga: Eden: It’s an Endles World

by Hiroki Endo 

[zrobilem-herbate]

“I clench my teeth, unclench them and go to sleep.”

— Georges Bataille (1897-1962), from “Guilty”, translated from the French by Stuart Kendall (via finita–la–commedia)

[cybercrimer]

due to personal reasons I will be committing crimes

[dennybitte]

a comfortable day on the coast

Lofoten / Norway

by Denny Bitte

[floralls]

by inmost_light

[crooked-keeper]

esoteric-stratagem‌:

“Yes, it’s been quite the adventure to rediscover the old kingdom. Very little is in peak condition. I’ve only seen several places where the stone is untouched,” she said, kicking a loose stone on the ground. It bounced between the cobblestone walls that kept them from falling. Before them sat a large iron door, intricate detail scrawled across its surface. From beyond, she felt a familiar tug and took a tentative step towards it.

It was sturdy, and took some effort to push. With a grunt, she pressed her back to the dual doors and pushed with all her might, beckoning Sinclair to assist her. It eventually gave way, and the warm glow of the bonfire sat only a few feet away.

“I’ve only come this far a few times. Not really anything I needed in these parts,” she said, already rummaging through cracked pottery and old boxes. “A lot of this stuff is rusted beyond repair or unusable. But we could try to find something…” She tossed a stick to the side with a huff. Old satchels and broken arrows, rusted broken sword hilts and sticks for kindling. The sticks would help immensely, but everything else was garbage.

With a defeated sigh, she moved onto the other side of the room, where a large statue towered above, watching the two as they scavenged. She tilted her head from side to side. The woman had her arms stretched out, welcoming them to the space. Her design was simple, but reminded her of a story she’d heard once before, when, however, she couldn’t place. The statue’s gaze rested right around the bonfire itself, enticing the two to sit before her and rest. Brynne furrowed her brow and turned back to the piles of debris around the space. 

Cracked walls and old flooring. Vultures hung on the air alongside dust and ash. Nature wasn’t in a battle with stone to reclaim this land from the old fortress; nature had already won.

Rhys considered shooting one of the birds down, but he feared what diseases they might carry on their mottled feathers. Perhaps if things got desperate he would reconsider.

Cracked open crates revealed nothing but shards of glass and dirt--insects at worst. Unless he could find a way to make use of rust, there was little in the way of supplies.

But even with the famine of food or life; hollows prowled just beyond his earshot and sight. Rhys knew their presence by the footprints they left and the scrapes along the walkway walls. He had seen such all before, both in this lifetime and another.

Rhys took a daring move and let Brynne out of his eyesight so he could explore more. He found a small window that led out onto old wood scaffolding, but trusted it with his weight as much as he trusted a Volgonese politician with his taxes. Rhys was satisfied just looking out over the expansive courtyard and forest edge, instead. 

A river ran through here once, perhaps from the mountains all the way out to the sea. Perhaps the other side of the fortress would offer a better seaside view--he could hear the waves and smell the salt. He at least wanted to see that, then they could leave if there was nothing else worth their time.

He went back inside the fort proper and together they went down the ladder down to the middle floors. The rungs seemed well put together and oddly fresh, as though newer than the other wood furnishings within the fort. Rhys noted it but said nothing.

At the bottom was open air balconies and thin stone bridges linking them. Their entrance was noted by an old knight who raised its halberd high. He moved awkwardly toward them, as though struggling with the weight of its own arms and armor. It more a sad sight than a frightful one.

Rhys readied his axe and stood between it and Brynne--braced to block. 

She incinerated its breastplate and the flesh beneath before it even got close. It slumped onto one knee, then another before fully collapsing upon the ground. It takes a moment for the heart to stop beating, blood still spilling into small pools from the cracks in the iron as it lies face-down on the floor. 

Rhys hooks his axe back into his belt. He took a moment to stare at the fallen fellow. 

“...Is it always just like this?” he asks her. “Is it just like this here?”

[expressions-of-nature]

by Manu Schwendener