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katyspersonal · 1 year

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since you've been playing elden ring, do you have a favorite npc so far?

Haha, my pace at discovering more of Elden Ring is SNAIL slow. And I don't mean moderately fast snail-like mobs in ER, I mean real life snails. xD So, my knowledge is still lacking. But with what I DO know, I think I can pick a favourite already!

This might come off as a surprise, but this...

...is...

...SELLEN!

Honestly, so far I liked her the most! She gives me very strong Imposter Iosefka vibe (in the scenario if after having made enough Emissaries, the Imposter also joined with them to be several small ascended people hiding in a trench coat pretending to be one BIG ascended person…). Whereas she is still, of course, a unique and interesting character on her own! It is just this kind of a female character after knowledge beyond human plane that reminds me.

I am particularly fond of the madman/woman/person characters who want to know the eldrich truths of the universe, no matter how horrifying they are and no matter what taboos they have to break, and what they have to give in exchange. I also can respect the type of 'scientist that is not above trying their own medicine' because, again, she becomes The Orb herself xd Her sassy and blunt attitude is also very appealing for me, she is a confident character with a very certain motivation! I do also enjoy how no matter what scroll she is given, her reaction is that she is familiar with this sorcery, so she is already very educated!

I've posted my analysis how in Bloodborne, Willem and 'original' Choir (from which only Yurie remains) prioritise ascending humanity and leveling with the gods as people, whereas the Choir as it is later tries to TRANSCEND humanity, and will break any taboos, just like Mensis too. In there, I actually sympathise with Willem's side and see Choir as reckless and desperate fools. But in Elden Ring, for some reason, I actually sympathise with the ideas of Sellen (and her teachers, Azur and Lusat) more instead, whereas seeing how Caria family goes about the glintstone teachings as kinda weak. Not REAL researchers. It is very funny and I can't even explain why I am so inconsistent all of a sudden; doesn't help that Rennala herself gives strong Willem and Yurie vibe! Truly, the magic of narration can make EITHER side feel more sympathetic than the other o_o"

Also, I've learned that initially her Witch's Glintsone Crown was named Grana Glintstone Crown, but it was patched out!

I feel like developers initially did want to make Sellen as important as someone who had her own school and the crown made in her likeness was a common wear too, but it never picked up because… well, her line of studies contradicted with Caria's family agenda and restrictions too much? It is one thing to just explore rocks from space, but completely different one to try and BECOME one! But I decided to go with 'they retconned the idea' rather than with 'they obscured the idea'. I mean, how exactly people would follow this "school"? They'd just become rocks lol. It is not really studying the object when you become the object.

I also honest to god cannot recall this particular shade of green glintstone anywhere else - not in an environment, nowhere on Graven Scholars, and there are no spells or staff associated with this color. So I feel like it is artificial and created BY her; would go with theme of her experimenting with turning people into seeds of a star. Heck, maybe this glintstone also had an… organic origin, too. So it cannot be turned into a weapon (unlike staffs of Azur and Lusat that ARE made from existing cosmic material), but only serve as cathalyst for intellect and sorcery of THE caster.

Also I just gotta say, I really appreciate how in these spheres everyone is always having the both horrified and awe-full expression, but she looks really blissful and calm x) She actually gave a realistic, adequate estimate towards how much she wanted to become one with the cosmos xD Lore says that even Azur and Lusat were devastated when they witnessed it, so she is arguably MORE of a madwoman than those two. Love this about her so much.

Honorable mention: so far, Nepheli is my second favorite. Her design definitely beats everyone else's amongst NPCs yet, but also she is just really appealing character. Badass warrior with two axes with great honor and will to go on no matter what, who is also very sensitive and compassionate at heart, is in touch with her vulnerable side, grieving the fallen, strong but not invincible… It is a very good example of how TO write a strong and badass female character; the power is not to be a solid brick that never cries but to be able to connect with one's insecurities and still get back up. Her being heartbroken when her father figure turned on her was very moving, for some reason this way she feels stronger than if she just got up and kicked Gideon's ass and hated him forevermore after that. I just live for this balance of both big muscles but ALSO a big heart.

#elden ring #sorceress sellen #elden ring headcanons #(sort of? it isn't really much it is just me rambling)#(can't wait to discover a minor detail in lore that will flip everything upside down as usual lol)#going in blind with elden ring is a very rewarding experience trust me #but at the same time i feel SO helpless compared to how well-versed I am in BB!#emotions when you find and NPC dead or find a plot twist are so worth it tho xd #for the record: yes i do like seluvis and i can write an essay on this too #but from cold and rational standpoint not he is my favorite #i just appreciate him #i really love it though how in ER there is a line between magic (incantations) and science (glintstone sorcery)#how former scales with faith and latter with intellect #i needed it a lot #granted BB also has cursed pthumerian-esque magic vs COSMOS OF COURSE and eyes #but it is a bit more blurry #by the way if there IS this exact shade of green somewhere else in the game BUT her crown please show me!#i just haven't seen it nor an item!#unless i am right and it IS unique. oh boy....

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fishermcn · 9 days

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Knight-Captain Renauld was a veteran of the Shattering and one of the few Redmanes to have survived the Bloom of Aeonia, where Malenia the Severed unleashed the Scarlet Rot upon Starscourge Radahn and all the Caelid Wilds. In the days following the fallout it was his leadership that rallied the broken forces of Radahn's army, organizing the Redmanes and leading the first of many fiery purges as countless wriggling horrors began pulling themselves from the now befouled earth.

It wasn't until the lashing winds in the Bloom's wake no longer raged and the miasma of rot finally settled down to fester Caelid properly that a proper record could be taken of their losses... and of their enemies. When Renauld realized that only Radahn remained upon that accursed battlefield, his rage was immense, and upon his oath and that of a dozen other knights they launched a crusade to hunt down Malenia and finish what their now stricken and broken lord could not.

So it was that these knights thirteen scorched their crests in the manner that all other Redmanes would follow, and with their castle left in old Jerren's hands they hunted the wayward demigod. Across pillaged Limgrave and forsaken Liurnia they followed the wake of hated Finlay, loyal to the last, and through war-bitten Atlus Plateau did their march tread upon, and the horrors and terrors they confronted with bared steel and fiery resolve in the wake of the war to end all wars, who could say? For their tales have been lost to the waning of that most broken age, and of those vengeful thirteen only one of their number ever returned to blighted Caelid.

Rumors say that Renauld had dared to tread a measure in blasphemy itself, to scale those bitter peaks where the fire giants once echoed their own fiery fury across the mountaintops in Finlay's wake. Amongst the men-at-arms and knights is claimed that in those furious snowfields Renauld met his match, a duel at long last with Finlay staining the powdery white crimson with his blood and an eye taken for the cost of his oath unavenged... and some would whisper that he survived only from the intervention of a spirit, and the gracelessness in the eyes of the boy that returned home with him is proof of it.

In the days since his return, Renauld Whist has taken command of the remaining Redmane forces scattered across all of Caelid, and even now leads sorties against the corruption that has choked the heart of his homeland.

#v. graceless eyes beneath golden boughs condemn your birth / once curses rain from burning branches you’ll know your worth ( elden ring. )#// yeah sam's dad is certainly a guy of all time #// dude who actually still has grace in his eyes #// LITERALLY the only verse where the old man's still alive and kicking; too powerful to be kept alive in any other setting i reckon rofl

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necrophcge · 13 days

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💔 BROKEN HEART — is there anyone in your life you wish you had a better relationship with? if so, how come? what makes this person important to you?

@izar-tarazed // plucking at their web of thoughts; pray you don't become the fly to their spider // not accepting.

For a time there is no response. Only the restless, endless heartbeat of the hive can be heard as the many drones fufill their roles. Foragers by the hundreds skittering across the vast walls as they extend the nearly endless tunnels and reinforce the already iron-strong walls of their nest, the wingbeats of necrodrone echoing their arrivals and departures in their constant surveillance of the lands surrounding the hive, battle born roused from their forced slumber to eviscerate any trespassers into their domain...

And amidst the shrieks and whirring stands a titan of mutated chitin, star-metal armaments and raw reanimated muscle. Upon four monstrous legs does the champion march about, and his powerful pincers easily tear free chunks of stone thrice his size as he bulldozes a path forward for the hive to expand. Crowned with horns the envy of any battering ram's head, the champion commands the teeming horde with the ease of a creature that knows its own incredible might.

He Who Meddles gestures to that champion of the Necrophage with a single hand... while two of the others wrap around his abdomen, and the last clenches tightly into a clawed fist before relaxing just as swiftly. "Rhiss al-Khali." There is almost something akin to reverence in that dual tone of his, tinged with something that sounds terribly like grief or regret. "An ardent mage once. Human, once. He came to us not as prey or foe but as a supplicant... to become one. To join us as kindred and to become an inheritor of our world, bonded with us in mind and flesh as Necrophage. Obsessed with mutation and adaptation, he looked upon us and saw perfection."

He hesitates, many-eyes fixed on his champion. "He survived where every other being before him had succumbed to the agony of having all that defined them rewritten on a genetic level, or been driven to utter madness by the weight of our shared consciousness. What had once been merely a man emerged from the growth vat as new creature; one with the power of our greatest warriors, yet still in possession of his unparalleled intellect. So it was then that he became not only my general and most loyal subject... but the only one to whom I kept counsel with and confided to. For none other among the Necrophage had the awareness that I possess save for Rhiss al-Khali, and we spoke long into many a night on our visions for the world and for the future we would secure together."

Something harsh, something awry and almost mournful seeps into the dual-tone of his voice. To the ears of a mere hindlegs, perhaps it would seem to be nothing more than mere noise. But to someone who could parse the subharmonics... it would be nothing but pure sorrow and grief, too potent to be merely spoken aloud in that cumbersome way that most "intelligent" creatures do. "Yet he succumbed, in the end. While the conversion of mere flesh and bone to chitin and invertebrate might may have been a swift and violent affair, the restructuring of the mind proved to be a far quieter and... crueler process. It was a slow fade that began with him losing time and recent memory, only to progress into fits of animalistic fury and violence as time wore on and his connection to our mind strengthened."

There are beads of greenish-yellow blood running down his sides from where his claws have bitten into his abdomen. He hardly seems to notice, many-eyes still fixated on Kha-Riss far below. "I would not speak of those last hours before his mind was utterly consumed, for the words and companionship we shared are ours alone... yet I will tell you that for all that there was fear for the end, there was no regret. Somehow, some way, he held no fear for... for becoming like..."

There would be silence, for how He Who Meddles trails off, were it not for the rising cry building deep within his abdomen. It erupts in not only a screech, a cry of pain so much more like that of a mere animal than any supposed sapient being, but with claws extended in a blow that nearly shatters the nearest hive wall. Dust shrouds them for a moment, then two, only to pass away and reveal He Who Meddles leaning heavily against the now crumbling wall. Head bowed, mandibles clenched so tightly against his maw they grind together almost painfully, the noise that slithers free from the confines of his too-small chest speaks only of pain.

"... what I would do to speak with him again. My kindred-who-chose, my dearest friend, to share words and thoughts once more for even an hour would be worth all of our world."

#izar-tarazed #v. with fury and hunger; we rage against our fated oblivion (endless legend.)#// this turned out to be... a lot! wow #// i know this isn't elden ring but honestly he doesn't have anyone in the lands between that fit this prompt (yet!)#// but in his original verse? oh boy #// rhiss al-khali was the G.O.A.T.#// the guy #// the only person absolutely crazy enough to willingly become a necrophage and thus... meddles' only friend in the entire world #// only to lose his mind and become just like every other member of meddles' species... little more than a mindless beast #// so yeah. meddles has some strong feelings and regrets about rhiss to say the least

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renatvvs · 20 days

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For Ronan: What compelled him to join the Golden Order? What did he hope to accomplish, if anything? Why so?

Ronan had never been a man of strong faith, even during the age of the Golden Order. For him, all that mattered were the ones he loved—his wife Rhiannon and his son Cillian. But they were both taken from him one night by a deathbird (the frosted flakes kind).

Creatures like that thing...he had to know more. He needed to know why such a tragedy befell upon him that fateful night. Why him of all people?

Perhaps it was this event that eventually led him to take custody of an orphanage on the verge of shutting down. Without a roof, those children would be left to starve and possibly die—and perhaps he saw something in those children that reminded him of the time he had now lost from the absence of his wife and son.

His friend that had been in charge of the establishment was close to being bankrupt, but Ronan proposed that all he needed was more support. And so, he embarked on a mission to get as much patronage as he could from various others willing—merchants, other nobles, lords, even beseeching the aid of Lord Godfrey and Queen Marika themselves. His noble acts did not go unnoticed by his colleague, who later granted him the deed to the orphanage, effectively making it his own place to run.

It was also through this, from collecting tomes and traveling about, that he did more research into the thing that stole his loved ones away. These abhorrent creatures, defilers of the Golden Order. Relics of an age long past.

Later in his years for timeline purposes, he'd become a Hunter of Those Who Live In Death. Anything that held a semblance of that creature was something that needed to be purged. But it really was more about a personal and misplaced grudge against them than about following the standard of the Golden Order.

Maybe ridding the world of such unnatural beings would avert the tragedy he once bore witness to.

#muse: ronan;#verse: er;#asks;#hexenjagd #this is p much pt 2 of a compilation of elden ring verses on this blog #what this man's motivations are and his story #i feel like he wouldn't keep omens and others like that in the orphanage #on a scale of 1 to 10 ronan is like in the middle with aligning with the golden order #he'd still see them as unnatural lol #yet with judas he saw his own son in him. or rather projected onto him #seeing his foster son kill a room full of kids definitely made him reconsider adopting dubious boys from near an erdtree burial site

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crimsonlocks · 2 years

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∅

"Fyra? She's a honest soul. I haven't got to know her too well so far, but it is clear that she wants other to feel safe and secure around her and tries to do the right thing. However..." His gaze darkens a bit. "I worry that the Lands Between... might break her. There is some shit going down here. Maybe she's stronger than I think, maybe I am too pessimistic, but I would hate to see her lose her positivity."

#asks & answers #thx for the ask #verse: elden ring #muse: laurence

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royalreliquary · 2 years

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Lorian’s claws rake the dirt, turning over the soil as he lowers his head, breath fogging through the slits in his helm. The carriage tracks are fresh, maybe a day old, not yet trodden over by the hooves or paws of woodland animals or the boots of listless undead wanderers.

Seated on his back, Lothric squints into the late-evening gloom. The road is shrouded by the forest, their lush canopy smothering whatever light still lingers in the sky, even the glow of the Erdtree. “It’s getting dark. We should come back tomorrow.” Too dangerous to travel at night, but the longer they waited, the further the carriage would get, along with the people who might know anything of use.

Abruptly, Lorian raises his head with a low growl, staring ahead into the darkness that swallowed the path in front of them. “What?” Lothric asks, following his pointed gaze. “Someone there?”

#open #verse: elden ring

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bccfggffbgv · 1 year

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"Welcome to Caelid! Where the land is made entirely out of German Bedtime stories!"

Uzi, during her first playthrough of Elden Ring.

#Source: Max0r #Multiversal Fusion #Glitch Productions #murder drones #md uzi #murder drones uzi #uzi doorman #elden ring #Caelid #Chaos-verse

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lrdvyke · 5 months

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also should note, if anyone wants to treat vyke as a boss / enemy in dnd / bg3 interactions, no need to ask just go for it. kick his ass 🫵

#— ooc.#he's a boss / enemy in elden ring so i dont mind keeping to that vibe across verses #he kinda deserves it lbr herehgkshkgj

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deathblightprince · 2 years

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“O Brother, Lord Brother, I shall grant thee a true death.”

Godwyn has been revived, but has not unbound the rune of death and brought about the age of duskborn yet. He’s is on the quest to search for his elusive brother Mohg that hides deep under ground. What he finds devastates him.

Characters: Godwyn, Miquella, and Mohg.

Disclaimer: There is no Mohg x Miquella shipping here. We don’t support that shit, sis. This is also using a personal HC of Godwyn, The Prince of Death after being revived. No, he doesn’t look like a fish. He’s human, just a little dead looking.

Trigger warnings: Blood, suggestions of violence, death, being held hostage, creepy crawly roots, creepy eyes.

After receiving hints about where his brother Mohg went after leaving the Shunning Grounds, Godwyn worked on expanding his deathroot further underground. There were plenty of roots to be had underground within the Deep Root Depths, there was no problem in expanding from there. His roots would slowly reach Nokron, and soon enough would seep their way down to the Siofra river. Eyes would later form on these large roots that now marked the lands, a new set of eyes for Godwyn to use to scout these newly found lands.

So far, he wasn’t successful. He was informed that his brother was now the so-called “Lord of Blood”. He was to expect a land of blood to know if he was close. So far, he could find no hint of blood within the area of Nokron or Siofra. The Ansel River was showing no promise either, considering the river is still water and not blood. He was stumped for several days, working on developing the deathroot within Siofra and Nokron further in hopes of being able to visually scout a new route. It would be a several-week process, each day feeling slightly less enthusiastic and hopeful about it. But as soon as it was done, and he looked once more he took several glances at the grounds. He then glanced back towards Nokron, and then he looked to where Nokron was facing, and… oh boy, did he find what he was looking for.

A mausoleum stood high above a cliff. An eerie red hue surrounded it. Although he didn’t see a speck of blood surrounding it, he just knew that mausoleum had to be what he was looking for. His deathroot began to spread again with more haste, only to stop when it would come across the chasm that divided Siofra to Mohgwyn’s Dynasty of Blood. After what was probably several days of frustration and wracking his brain, he retracted the root to begin the journey of going up toward the surface. He knew it would be a much longer and harder task, but since he saw no other way of reaching it he made the difficult trek. It would turn out much more difficult than he originally thought, after possibly a month or more of climbing up to breach the surface, he would find out his deathroot was in the Caelid Wilds. A slight advantage, as he already had deathroot rooted there. He could simply link up with the ones further in Caelid and start digging down, but that also meant the Mausoleum was possibly in under the more dangerous parts of Caelid, likely under the swamps of rot.

He had gotten this far, he wasn’t willing to throw in the towel. Slowly, and carefully, he would link up with the deathroot that was further into Caelid, including some deep in the swamps, and begin the slow and careful descent back down. Another month passes, but soon enough his roots find air again just above the dynasty. He allows them to slink further down until they touch the surface. Some of his deathroot does not survive long after impact, as he could feel large birds that were similar to the Caelid birds swoop in to tear them apart. They would eventually die when the mist of death blight would infect them, but at that point, a majority of his deathroot had succumbed to the forces of the denizens within Mohgwyn Dynasty. Some of them were birds, some of them 2nd generation Albanaurics, and others were oddly white-masked individuals but those were quite rare.

He focuses on the roots that hung above the mausoleum, allowing them to hit the stone floors and take root. Now all he needed to do was wait for his eyes to fully develop so he can take a good look at the area around him. All he could do now it just stay vigilant and continue growing branches of deathroot if it were to be attacked.

It wouldn’t take long for a sense of dread to wash over him during the next several weeks. How will his brother react to the deathroot now surrounding his dynasty? What will he see there once he takes a gander for the first time? Will he see his brother there? How come nobody has tried to mess with the deathroot around the mausoleum yet? Is Mohg dead? Has he gone somewhere else? Was this all for nothing?

The moment he could get a clear view of the mausoleum inside with the eyes of his death root, he would immediately jump in to get a good look. So far? Nothing. It was a dusty old mausoleum littered with headstones, the most normal part of it all. The mausoleum was well-lit as if it was occupied or busy. Then his glance would move along the narrow path upwards toward the back of the Mausoleum. There he would see what looked to be a huge fiber-like egg with a gigantic rip along the middle. It sat on top of a large pelvic bone, unsure of where or whom that pelvic bone could have come from. Then he noticed the hand that stood unmoving at the top of the cocoon. Its hand opened as if reaching for something above them. Godwyn’s blood ran cold. Who the hell is that? What is that? Is that… Mohg? He saw no signs of the omen anywhere, but who else could that be?

He made the decision quickly, almost in a snap. He was going down there himself. He needed to see it with his own eyes. It was time to pay his brother and whatever that was on the pedestal a visit.

His body would travel along via deathroot, taking him from underground and leading him toward his brother’s dynasty. The roots carry him in a protective cocoon of sorts to keep him safe from the rot above, and whatever else lies in waiting below. Slowly, he would be lowered down to the Mausoleum, near the back where the mysterious cocoon sat. Once the root hit the ground, he let a few moments pass before letting himself be revealed by the roots retracting. He stood, dawning a dark cloak, his old tattered navy blue robes underneath, and the small crown and thorns on his head. He scanned the area around him. It was empty, quiet, and unmoving. Is there no one else here besides this cocoon? His eyes meet with the dreadful sight of the fiber ball. He turns to face it, inspecting it from a distance. Then it happened…

The hand moved. The hand fucking moved. It twitched, and then it started to sway. It quickly fell to the bottom, dangling over the pedestal. Godwyn was beyond unnerved at this point. It was so still that the thought of it suddenly moving was enough to make him come out of his skin. But this… This made him so unsettled that he was damn near ready to hightail it back from where he came from. Fuck this, he didn’t come down here to meet some eldritch abomination.

But then he caught the meager glimmer of a ring on the long, warped finger of the hand. It intrigued him enough to carefully approach the cocoon. He trod up the steps, getting a better look at the intricately detailed ring on the person’s finger. That ring looked so familiar. He moved closer, now close enough to touch the figure. The ring… It was so detailed. The way it was made was so fine. It had to be a ring that was made in Leyendell. Surely a ring like that would cost a fortune, something only nobles and royalty may be able to own as it had to be made from the finest materials that could only be found in Leyendell. But this ring didn’t look like it was produced more than once. It truly looked like one of a kind. Something that he could faintly remember his family once owned, something Radagon maybe wore once? But he gave up most of his jewelry to his children. Wait, could this mean…?

“Miquella…?” His eyes widen slightly, and the realization of who this could be hit him. He hasn’t been able to find Miquella or his sister Malenia anywhere, no matter how far or wide his deathroot could spread. Could this be why he couldn’t find them? Was Miquella here this whole time?

“Miquella… Is it truly thee? Oh… Oh no. Oh, Gods.” The thoughts of what could have happened made him nauseous. Miquella, aside from Ranni, was possibly the most promising heir to Marika’s throne. His intellect was amazing, and his ability to create powerful incantations made him a great suitor to the throne, the curse of an eternal childhood be damned.

He gently took Miquella’s hand into his own. His hand was now large enough to grip Godwyn’s equally large hands as well. The gravity of the situation was beginning to fall hard onto him. “Miquella, what has happened to thee? Is… Is this what thy wanted?” He knew Miquella wanted to grow his body into adulthood. It was something Miquella was very vocal about. Ever since his curse became more apparent, it was all he could ever wish for himself. But Godwyn could hardly believe he wanted to grow into an adult body like this. Anything but this.

“Miquella, O dear Miquella… I shall grant thee a true death if thou wisheth to be so. I-I can hardly bear to see thee like this. What a cruel fate…” Godwyn lamented as he squeezed Miquella's hand. Miquella remained ever still, unresponsive to Godwyn’s voice and touch. But… Godwyn would get a response.

A sudden burst of noise rang out behind him. The sound of rushing liquid hitting the floor, fire ringing out in angry puffs. Godwyn would snap around to see what lurked behind him. He would see a silhouette of a large, bulky figure in blood. It quickly formed before him into the figure of a large dark omen, long black horns twisting on each side of his head. Half of his face dawned a sickly long and sharp row of teeth. His beady eyes were deep gold. The robes he wore were immaculate and regal in every sense, but very different from the usual regal robes you would see in Leyendell. The trident he held in his hands was pointed at Godwyn.

#{ dabble: reunion }#{ verse: death blighted }#godwyn the golden #miquella the unalloyed #mohg the lord of blood #elden ring #elden ring fanfic

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