The Gift of Grace

Independent, Canon-Divergent Ask and Roleplay blog for various muses from Elden Ring | Semi-Selective | Written by Fred

[the-gift-cf-grace]

Brandish the Elden Ring - For all of us

Independent and Canon-Divergent Ask and Roleplay Blog for various muses from Elden Ring

Independent and Semi-Selective

OC Friendly

Multiverse Friendly

--Written by Fred

[runeofgold]

Radagon could see Radahn struggle- clutching his large, red-maned head with his gaulteted hand. He rushes forth, boots sinking in the blood tinged sand, more dry than any of the bones that lay here.. He propels forth with incredible speed.

It pained him.. So much. Everything changed, it's all in ruins anymore. His poor son.. What was left of him. The shattering truly did, fragment every living thing. Its impact will never be forgotten.

But still.. Radagon must fight. No matter how badly he didn't want to draw his sword.. No matter how much it hurt him. What can he even say in this situation? His words will most likely be lost.. But he wants to try, he's not one to deem something unachievable, until he's tried what he can.

"Radahn!.. My son-.."

He can't even think to say anything else, he's too distraught.. He's heartbroken in this very moment, as he draws his sword. As he nears.. He can see the state Radahn was in. And by gods.. It was another harsh blow to his heart.

"Radahn- I don't wish to fight thee! I'm so sorry-... For what I'm about to do!"

Radagon draws his brilliant golden sword, as he's close to Radahn. His hands tremble, his chest heaves. He's in great emotional distress.. But this is the way things are now.

He knows better than to expect the things he wants, that wishes are for little children who yet still only dream what their lives can be. He's no god anymore.. But he's wishing with all his golden might, that something will happen. Something good.

Radagon strikes fast, tapping into the experience he had years spent as the Golden Champion. The reason why Radahn looked up to him as a child.. Father and son. That connection almost seemed nonexistent anymore, but.. Radagon can still feel it. A meager little thing. Maybe He's delusional.. Maybe he isn't.

But the moment his sword connects with Radahn, Radagon can feel part of his soul crackle in pain.. Just a quick slash to the side, nothing majorly damaging.. But it's more painful for Radagon than it is Radahn.

[the-gift-cf-grace]

Within the midst of intrusive thoughts and impulses that rushed through Radahn's befouled mind, there was a sharp warmth that cut through all of these uncertainties, and snapped Radahn back to conscience; pain. A streak of crimson as Radagon's blade of gold finds a gap in Radahn's brilliant mail of gold, cutting dead flesh as blood gushes forth, which is the source of said warmth.

A pained roar bellows out of the beast, and a surprised whinny comes from the emaciated horse beneath him as it rears up as much as the massive man atop of it allows it, before Radahn responds in kind, pulling one of his gigantic, obsidian cleaver-blades from his back, and SMASHES it down behind himself towards Radagon, the blade crashing into the sands and sending waves of it into the air.

His focus seemingly re-aligned, Radahn pulls his other blade out as well, as Leonard makes a beeline towards Radagon, galloping as much as his thin legs allow him, as Radahn begins to repeatedly swing and smash his guillotine-like blades at Radagon, swinging wildly and blindly and not really attempting to aim at Radagon.

@runeofgold

[tarnishedkalila]

Kalila, still a bit awestruck at the wolf man’s prowess with the blade and his quick wit, stood for a moment longer, watching as he made short work of the crabs long, jointed legs.

“Well, Blaidd, you most certainly know how to make a first impression!”

The wolf man moved with ease, carrying both legs and thigh they weighed nothing.

She smiled broad before rummaging through her bag for some spice she’d picked up from a merchant.

“It is a pleasure to meet someone such as yourself way out here…I happen to be exploring a section of ruins to the North of camp when I ran into a few …unsavory characters.”

Standing, she sprinkled the meat with a bit of dried herbs and salt before sitting back beside the warm flames.

“The storms not so much of a bother. I kind of enjoy the rain.”

She watched Blaidd with peaked interest. His whole form was as that if a perfect human wolf hybrid. It seemed damn near impossible.

Eloquent too. Not like the savagery shed experienced from the other local fauna.

“I must ask you the same…if you don’t mind…I’ve not meet anyone like you since I arrived. Where do you hail from? What brings you to the lake shore?”

[the-gift-cf-grace]

Blaidd seems to just sit quietly with Kalila and absorbing the info she's giving him, just letting it all sink in before he'd nod, his snout twitching a bit as he smells the fragrance of the herbs being toasted upon the crab-legs.

"I don't quite like the rain, myself. My fur gets all damp, and smells quite foul after a real storm..." he huffs, almost reflexively pulling his coat tighter around his being.

"Hm? What it is I'm doing here? Well-" he'd move his head so he was looking towards the north as well, perhaps a bit further off than Kalila had been. "I was just returning home, is all. Or, well, as much of a 'home' as it is. It lies within the estate-grounds that lie far to the north of here, the Caria Manor. Perhaps you are familiar with the history of the Carian family, no?"

@tarnishedkalila

[the-gift-cf-grace]

@runeofgold | x

Whatever regrets and grievances Radagon might've had for the one known as Radahn and his fate... none of it mattered to the hulking colossus several miles away from him, as the being would nock another spear onto his bow, drawing it back even firmer now, to the point where the rope was visibly making his bow creak in frustration from the over-extension of the bowstring. Something about this being that had stepped up to him...

It was triggering something within Radahn's long-gone mind... with his eroded mind, he could not discern what it was... but it angered him further.

He fired his shot, but the over-extension of his bowstring made the shot fling towards Radagon at an off-angle, missing him as it whizzed past him and smashed into a pile of armaments, sundering shields and snapping spears in half. And Radagon would hear in the distance, as the beast formerly known as his son let out an anguished roar, displeased of having missed his mark, but...

He'd also see Radahn reach for his helmet-covered head, clutching it with a loud growl. Was this a window of opportunity? He was not firing any arrows, so might as well try and get closer!

[the-gift-cf-grace]

(From: runeofgold)

Radagon and Radahn

It's.. All been said and done. Marika and Radagon have been freed of the Greater Will, and stripped of godhood. Despite this, Radagon hurried away from the capital, leaving Marika alone. He seeked out his kin, those of his blood, and Rennala's.. His first love, wife, and mother of their three beautiful children.

But.. What has become of said children? There was no loving reunion between Ranni, Rykard, and Radagon. They were absent from the lands. He knows naught what happened... What of Radahn?

Radagon searched far and wide, looking for any leads of his first born son. And.. He's found one. In Caelid, wrought by the destruction of the scarlet rot. These lands were once beautiful. Malenia.. Malenia did this, from the shattering. It broke his heart.. Seeing everything he couldn't prevent, and more..

Caelid is red, with death and rot. The sky is no longer blue, there is nothing green anymore. As Radagon steps on the dusty red ground, he leaves tracks. Gauging all the destruction around him.. But what of Radahn? Gazing from Redmane castle, there's a distant shore.

He has to be there.. With any luck. He HAS to be there..

Radagon takes a lift down, to the red shore across from the vast one that is ever looming.. What will Radagon face on the other side? The teleporting gate takes him to the unreachable shore, from Redmane castle..

@runeofgold

The Wailing Dunes.

The endless plains of red dust and sand, upon which the greatest battle of the Shattering took place. A wild, animalistic, and downright destructive battle between Radahn, Great General and Starscourge of Caelid, and his Redmane Knights, against the invading forces of Malenia, Blade of Miquella, and her Cleanrot Knights.

Now all that was left is this barren wasteland, strewn with half-eaten, rotting corpses of both sides of the conflict, and with a festering, Rot-pulsating epicenter of Aeonia not too far away. And in the distance of Radagon's field of vision, he would see it...

A colossal, albeit hunched figure of a thing... a person of insurmountable size and power, his grace and mind both long gone from the Rot eating away at him. Still, ever wandering, ever carried by his loyal steed Leonard. The figure stops as soon as Radagon steps onto the dunes... turns towards him...

And with a silent, mindless motion, pulls his gargantuan greatbow, and nocks a spear onto the string of it, gravitational magic surging from the long-since rotted Demigod's veins, and imbuing the spear with a purplish-black hue, before it is launched, whizzing through the air like a streak of purple, heading right for Radagon!

[tarnishedkalila]

Kali was rarely speechless. She’d always found something to say in most situations whether they be dire or trivial.

This was one of those anomalous moments.

Flinging her body upright, Kalila’s eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. Her mind was a muddled mess as it tried to piece together the chaos that was almost, literally at her feet.

The crustacean behemoth lay dead, it’s hardened exoskeleton pierced deep through the very top of its grotesque head.

The creature itself would have been enough to render Kali without the right words, but then there was the man… wolf…man?

He was truly the anomaly of the evening. Kalila had heard tales of wolf men. As a youth, there was no shortage of cautionary stories of wolf men, the Itbarak. Some were devils, others noble and heroic.

Was this one of …them?

Kalila cleared her throat as the wolf headed man stared, no doubt waiting for a response.

“Uh…yes! Of course! You uh… caught me off guard…though I suppose my thanks is in order as I speculate that crab was looking for an easy….distracted tarnished for its evening meal.”

Kalila shook her head, running a hand through her white hair.

“Apologies.” She stuck out her hand, offering it as a more proper greeting.

“…Names Kalila, or Kali…and it appears I owe you more than my thanks. No doubt I would have met with a most uncomfortable demise had you not come along.”

She pulled a small dagger from her belt, “I can give you a hand if you’d like. It looks like quite a job to get to the good meat.”

[the-gift-cf-grace]

"... Hm. Not a chatty one, are ye? That suits me fine." the wolf-man chuckles, clearly jesting as he lets Kalila speak next, after her throat-clearing. "No need to thank me. That crab was starting to be a nuisance for me too. And again; was growing hungry."

He'd extend his hand to shake hers, and it was revealed that even his hand was wolf-like, almost like a paw with fingers! "The name's Blaidd. A pleasure to meet ye, Kali." he then noticed her dagger, and shook his head.

"With all due respect... that knife won't really cause as much as a nick in these carapaces. Allow me to cut a leg or two loose. Keep the fire going strong and roaring." he instructed her, as he'd then turn to swing his blade, using both hands as he'd cleave it downward, and chopped two of the crab's legs off, each thunking heavily onto the ground. Blaidd sheaths his sword upon his back before plucking up both legs, and then hangs them both upon the rack over the fireplace, before he'd promptly seat himself near it.

"So, what's a Tarnished like you doing out here, in a storm like this?"

@tarnishedkalila

[tarnishedkalila]

Kalila choose several locations along the lake shore to make camp. Each site was had a tactical vantage point that would, in theory, slow her to spot incoming travelers, highwaymen and the occasional, hostile flora or fauna.

This particular night, she’d selected the one that would provide a bit of shelter form the storm that was threatening to bear down upon the region.

Kali didn’t mind the rain. It was a welcome delight she might have said, but this night, her mood had been sullied by a skirmish with several wraith callers. Though she could say they took the brunt of the violence, her own body had been put through the wringer.

The damp lake air and lightning in the distance made her wary of what else might be lurking in the shallows. Stoking a small fire, she hummed a tune while dressing her wound, her attention drifting elsewhere…

[the-gift-cf-grace]

Soon enough, the light emitting from her flaming campfire, and the warmth to some degree, seemed to have attracted the attention of the giant crab! It would begin to scuttle towards Kalila and her inviting campsite, ready to barge in on her serenity... but a shadowy streak crossed the skies, and without warning, a large blade would find itself lodged into its carapace-clad head, sinking far into its brain and killing it near-instantly, as it'd topple over near Kalila's camp.

And off of it jumped a man... or at least, what appeared to be a man of tall stature, with a wolf's head atop his shoulders, and a large sword slung upon his shoulder. The wolf-man grumbles to himself a bit, before looking to Kalila. "Oh, evening there Tarnished. I did not see thy camp, but perhaps it was pure dumb luck I stopped this big thing, aye?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Well, now that that's over... would you mind if I carved this thing up and borrowed your fire for a bit? Quite famished I am, and this thing will surely make a feast for the both of us."

@tarnishedkalila

[thalassaschel]

“Likewise. A friendly face is sadly scarce in these parts,” said the blue-clad warrior, offering the half-wolf a warm smile.

“I do apologize if my words cut deep. It was not said with any ill intent...”

Yes, Godrick... The warrior cast her gaze off to Stormveil for but a moment, her brows furrowed. And even now, grace beckoned her to journey to the foreboding castle.

It also directed her toward another. Though thankfully, he seemed not to be present at the moment.

“Well, if it’s of any comfort, I just made my way out from that red hellscape to the east not too long ago,” said the warrior, crossing her arms.

“Be careful opening any chests in those ruins in Agheel...”

“Say Blaidd, just out of curiosity: Who IS this Darriwil person anyway? What has he done to have riled up your fur?”

[the-gift-cf-grace]

"Ah, heavens no. They were shallow at best, but I merely saw it as a good jab, I assure you." Blaidd would assure Schel that her words had not wounded him. "Humor is so short on supply around here anyway, so I take all attempts in stride."

Though the mention of Caelid made him quirk a brow, as did the mention of a chest somehow taking her there. "Caelid, aye? How in the blazes did you end up there, eh? Well, you're alive at least. That's what matters." he'd try to cheer Schel up, before she asked about Darriwil again.

"He's a down-right bastard traitor." he stated flatly. "A Bloodhound Knight like him is supposed to serve a master for all their life, loyal to a fault. He was assigned to be said master's guard-dog before I was, but he proved to be rebellious, and so he was cast out, and I took up his mantle. And I've been after him ever since, to make him regret turning his back on them."

@thalassaschel

[swcrdstellaris]

The tranquility of night gave way to the stirring of flora and fauna across the golden plateau; birds gave their first shrills of the day, and lightning rams–a natural specialty of these once storm-stricken lands–rose from their huddled slumber to bleat at the looming hue of the great Erdtree. All was orderly, all was well.

A majestic creature of white marble scales glided above it all. High up among the seemingly endless branches of the Tree it twisted and danced, basking in its rays of gold. The morning sun reflected off the bronze scales beneath her wings. The true lineage of Priestess Lansseax, founder of Stormcaller Church and guest of the royal family was a veiled mystery among common Leyndellians. The civilization of mortals have shed their primeval beliefs and demeanor with guidance of the Golden Order, and despite the Prince’s brokering of peace with her impulsive brother, dragon kind no longer had place in a city constructed for the comfort of tiny, fragile bipedal beings.

Only at night would the priestess occasionally slip away from her many earthly duties, ascend the high walls of Leyndell and shed her finery in a heap. Gale wind battered her bare skin, and she’d take a leap of faith right off the edge–only to burst out of her shell of human flesh in a shower of sparks, and swoop across Altus in draconic glory. To be what she was, even if only for a while. Fortissax did not join her tonight, for the Prince could use all the tactical and emotional support he can get when the Praetor of Volcano Manor led his company here for his annual debriefing–a man whose ambition and ruthlessness precedes him, yet still proved essential in keeping the realms in order.

Speaking of which, Lansseax did expect a companion this day. He was indeed a rare soul who was neither royalty nor dragon-kind, but still occupied a special place in the dragon’s heart, a knight she couldn’t quite place. Once a mere squire and doubtlessly far below her stature, he nonetheless was always a welcome sight–more so than any others.

Spotting the small figure on an Erdtree-gazing hill, a quirk appeared on her maw. As always, he never misses her routine. Diving down, the white dragon would land before the knight with a soft thud, flapping her wings gently to relieve the impact, else tremor alone could knock him off his feet.

Craning her long neck, Lansseax fixated on Vyke with one enormous amber eye. “Good dawning to thee, my knight. I see the sentinels didst grant thee pass?”

[the-gift-cf-grace]

Ah-- there she was! How could he ever mistake the beat of those gigantic wings, as his head turned skywards to spot Lansseax beginning her descent towards him, and a smile cracked on his usually stoic, some daresay stern expression. Indeed, he was known as a most brutally efficient knight of the Golden Order, as ruthless as he was merciful, just like his idolatry figure Godwyn. But his feelings would ever betray that stern outer shell of his whenever his beloved dragon was near.

And so, as she gently descended down to land before him, the shaking of the ground was still there, but manageable for the knight. Steadying himself, he'd let her approach first, as he'd then reach to pull the gauntlet of his right hand off. "Aye, they dids't grant me pass. But you know as well as I do... nothing could keep me from thee."

As his right hand was disrobed, he'd slowly reach it upward, towards Lansseax's cheek, as fleshy skin touched upon rocky-scale hide, and gave it an affectionate caress. "My great, wonderful Lansseax..." he mumbles, his emotional locks slowly loosening as his knightly façade faded, to be replaced with just Vyke, his cheek soon leaning to press against hers. "How I've missed thee."

He always missed her. No matter how long they'd be apart, even for as short as an evening! There was just this... bond between them. One he'd dare not break. Slowly pushing himself off of her, letting her have her space, he'd find a suitable rocky outcrop to sit himself onto, looking up at the towering beast with a wide smile. "And how fare thee, mine fair lady?" he'd chuckle a bit, teasing Lansseax a little with a wry smirk. He knew how much she preferred her true self over her human priestess guise, but he loved to tease and remark over how pretty she was, regardless of form. "Hopefully thou hast not been too bored as of late. I, for one, have been drowning in politics lately... not a knightly duty, if thou'st would ask me personally."

@swcrdstellaris

[calamitousmonster-deactivated20]

Please reblog this if it’s okay for me to just pop into your ask box to RP with you even if you haven’t reblogged a meme because I just want to RP with you

[thalassaschel]

These porn bots are driving me nuts. Please, if you could like/reblog, I’d love to have more interaction for Schel!

It’s super disheartening when you’re up to like 54 followers, but a majority of them are all porn bots…

This IS a sideblog, but I follow back from @krakenguard​!

I also run @fellomenking​ if you’re interested in interacting with the Fell Omen himself, but I’m trying to give Schel a sort of foothold.

Please?

[crybaby-tarnished]

Fyra gave a nod and gave Torrent’s neck a few soft pats before moving to go behind him, being sure to drag her hand along his side to let him know she was. The odd steed was smarter than any horse she had ever met, but he was still a horse.

“Okay, Go. Pull Torrent.” Fyra demanded, and he did, slowly taking steps forward until the rope went taut. Fyra herself grabbed the rope a bit farther down, using both hands to get a firm grip and tug.

One step, two steps. Her feet sunk into the muck, but Torrent remained, oddly, above it, no doubt due to him being a spirit. She moved her foot tourist on a mound of scarlet rot infested fungus. “Push, Alexander!” Fyra called, straining hard.

[the-gift-cf-grace]

As soon as Torrent began to pull, Alexander was not too far behind, already pushing his hand into the dirt to help pull himself out, the rope straining between him and the spirit steed, but not breaking. He'd groan as he could almost feel his arm straining in the rope, but he'd not buckle!

"JUST... A BIT.. MORE!" he calls out to Fyra, and before long, the muck and slop of the swamp would let go of him, and with a loud, weird suction noise, he was almost practically launched out of the swamp, and landed flat on his non-existent face! "OUGH!" he grunts out upon impact, before standing up, arms crossed, and 'facing' Tyra.

"Aah! Well played, good madam! Well played indeed! Your mighty arms and steed have rescued me from an eternity of entrapment, I'm sure! Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho~!" he jovially hollers, before he'd reach up and flip his lid open briefly, fishing something out of it, before handing it to Fyra. A large, healthy chunk of Exalted Flesh! "Here, take this! As a token of my eternal gratitude!"

"Well, now that I am free, I do believe I have some time to get acquainted with my savior! So, again; the name is Alexander, the Iron Fist! 'Tis a pleasure to meet!"

[the-gift-cf-grace]

@swcrdstellaris

A glorious morning had arisen upon the Altus Plateau, and one soul in particular had taken advantage of it as he sat upon his horse, riding into the open fields of golden grass and beaming sunlight, making each straw reflect and almost 'glow' in utter radiance. It made Vyke delighted to see just how everything shone with the glow of his Order. How everything just felt... right, and in balance.

Eventually, he'd halt his steed and dismount from it, giving it a few reassuring pats to calm it. He knew where he was; these were the usual hunting grounds for a certain being, whom he had grown very fond of. But he knew she'd mean him no harm. They were... special, in a way. Like Godwyn and his draconic friend, Fortissax. He'd walk out into the open, his eyes searching the skies for his beloved dragon.

[jeandarcsouls]

progress and what if mohg owned a mink coat

[the-gift-cf-grace]

New Muse added!

Vyke, the Dragonspear

[thalassaschel]

"I thought I smelled a wet dog close by,” said Schel, removing her hand from the hilt of her swords.

She had come to associate that smell with the Fell Omen, Margit. Her manticore that stalked the lands in search of Tarnished.

‘Emboldened by the flame of ambition.’

It was a relief to find that the scent belonged to the Half-Wolf she’d met some time ago.

“Afraid I haven’t.”

Of course she’d probably have an easier time if she weren’t being hunted herself.

“Say Blaidd, you’ve got a better sniffer than I do... Any way you’re able to sniff this fellow out?”

[the-gift-cf-grace]

Her harsh words were only met by a chuckle from Blaidd, who seemed to not be too easily offended by such connotations. "Oh please, do I smell that awful? I feel offended." he'd respond, arms lowering to his sides and then tucking underneath his cloak.

"It is good to see you though, Schel. Surprised you're still in Limgrave, though. There's admittedly not much around here, other than that dreadful castle in the distance." he'd remark, leaning himself onto a tree. "Heard it's the seat of power for one 'Godrick'. A small tyrant who, despite his barbaric mannerisms, assumes to associate himself with the Golden Lineage." he spoke as if the notion alone was laughable.

The remark about sniffing out Darriwil makes him frown a bit, though. "Believe me, I'd have the bastard sniffed out already if that was the case. I know his scent all too well. But no, I've not had even the smallest whiff lately. The scoundrel must've really covered up his tracks... or he is somewhere secret, where my senses can't reach."

@thalassaschel

[the-gift-cf-grace]

@thalassaschel

"Well now... long time since I saw you skulking around, aye?"

The voice came from one of the nearby bushes of the Mistwood, almost out of nowhere. They'd rustle and shift, as out of them stepped the tall, armored wolf-man known as Blaidd, who'd cross his arms as he'd eye up Schel once more. Yep, still the same Tarnished he met not too long ago.

"Still no luck findin' the whereabouts of Darriwil, ey? Though I can't blame you if you haven't. Slippery son of a mutt, he is..." his last words reduced to a growling murmur.