#elden ring shadow of the erdree

[fantomette22]

I’m sure we’re gonna get a good surprise upon finally having the elden ring dlc. It took a lot of time compared to others dlc but there’s probably good reasons! (It’s probably HUGE)

But also i know the other fromsoftware games with their dlcs already out when i played them so it’s going to be quite crazy for everyone to have all this expension the universe/ characters/ lore etc. I cannot wait i hope they talk about the important lore characters mentioned in items description 🤭 (they lovee to do that for Artorias/ Ludwig etc)

Also i would like Malenia’s teacher and Godwyn (and Grandsax) as a boss

As for lore… oh too many things x) cannot wait!

#elden ring #elden ring dlc #elden ring shadow of the erdree #i’m sure we’ll see the dlc and don’t understand anything 😂 #now place your bet : past region/ dreams / or new regions 👀 #which bosses you want? #oh shit i have class 💀 nooo

[fancytrinkets]

Elden Ring | Grace and monsters

721 words / POV Second Person / Lore (Elden Ring) / St. Trina (Elden Ring) / Vague speculation about Miquella and St. Trina leading up to the DLC / Malenia battle, the exact way I played it / Radagon is Marika / Light Angst / Temporary Character Death / Memory Loss / Blood Loss / Poetry

Altus Plateau

The Grand Lift of Dectus shakes the earth as its ancient gears unlock and begin to move. You stand alone on a platform built to hold an army, and you rise.

On the plateau above, you follow the path towards the capital, slaying creatures as you go. The afternoon sunlight is as golden as the Erdree that looms above all. In its shadow, you feel bereft, bathed in an all-consuming grief that emanates from every corner of this broken landscape. With golden tendrils, it reaches down into your viscera and calls to mind a half-remembered grief that is your own.

The sun sets and at night you grow weary, but you find no rest. Your campsite is close to the road, chosen not for any strategic virtue, but for the remnant of Grace that rises, a flowing pillar of light. It moves like water, pooling in its hidden font. With nerves on edge, you watch it for hours as you listen, alert to every sound. There is danger in the night.

By day, you fight your way through camps of Leyndell soldiers, guarding the capital with sword and shield and trebuchet, with crossbow and ballista. They are the sputtering embers of an age-old flame for war. They fall, one by one, impaled on your blade.

At night, again, you watch the light of Grace, fearful that if you were to camp elsewhere, you'd lose the knack for seeing it. You'd become like the others, substituting some obsession of your own to fill the darkness. And yet you grow so very tired. Desperation rises and you pray to St. Trina for sleep. But she isn't there or doesn't listen. You can't understand what's gone wrong.

Leyndell Royal Capital

You stand before the statue and cast the Law of Regression to reveal a hidden truth.

Radagon is Marika.

And, implicitly, you understand. Because you are that way also, though perhaps you didn't know till now. Someone else exists beneath the surface of your skin, some other person who lived their life and died in exile. And when they were called back by Grace to the Lands Between, it was you instead who woke, disconnected from that other self — the same being and yet altogether different. With Rennala's gift, you changed their form to match the shape of you.

Two and one.

Perhaps you should go back to the broken queen in her darkened library and tell her: Radagon didn't leave the way you think. But no, it would not matter. She is lost in grief and you cannot help her. Since last you met, you have killed both her sons.

The Haligtree

You die a thousand times.

And yet you are chosen by Grace to wake up anew. These many deaths are the only sleep you've managed for a month of nights or more, and so you don't begrudge the loss. You simply get up. You walk down the stairs, down the corridor, and past the doorway arch to the roots of the Haligtree where you face your greatest foe.

You were slow at first, but you have learned. Malenia does not touch you as you slide past her blade. Your knife is small, but where it hits, your enemies bleed. In this, Malenia is no different. In her desperation, the scarlet rot blooms once more. She is fiercer now, but with a thousand deaths behind you, you can see her every move. Nothing hits you.

In the end, it is she who falls dead.

Moghwyn Palace

You have killed the Omen, Lord of Blood. In the stolen cocoon, Miquella lies still, subsumed by sleep or stasis. Perhaps it is best that he does not wake. You have slain Malenia, his beloved sister, in your relentless purge of the broken Order and its demigods scattered across these lands.

Perhaps you could kill Miquella also, cutting him free from his slumber. But here, the child god is no great threat. He is locked away from the world. And you did not kill Rennala either. You are a monster, yes, but not always. And right now all you want to do is rest.

In this blood palace, you sit by the light of Grace that moves, not like flame, but like water. You pray to St. Trina, and you drift off to sleep.

(ao3 link)

#elden ring #tarnished elden ring #elden ring fanfic #miquella the unalloyed #malenia blade of miquella #st. trina #rennala queen of the full moon #radagon of the golden order #queen marika