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20161217
Title: Edge of The Abyss
Author: Iudex Mortem
Fandom: Dark Souls 3
Rating: M

Chapter 1
The wind whistled through the cathedral of The Wolf’s Blood, it ruffled the capes of the knights sat at the long tables as they enjoyed their dinner. The hall was filled with the lively banter and the sound of cutlery on plates. On the large table, the captain of the legion stood. They tapped their spoon against their goblet causing silence to fall.

“Fellow partakers of The Wolf’s Blood, our scouts have alerted us to the fact that the Abyss has risen, it has reared it’s ugly head in the kingdom of Carthus. As is our duty we shall go to war against it, just as Master Artorias once did. When we stand as a legion, we will not fall” He raised his dagger in the air to a massive cheer from his fellow Watchers.

Preparations began immediately, the fires were stoked as swords were repaired and sharpened. Armour was removed and hammered into readiness for combat. Other watchdogs, mainly trainees and new recruits organised and packed the supplies for the Order’s march. They’d stay behind to watch the cathedral.

The sun rose over Lothric, spilling light onto the swamps of Farron. Outside the cathedral the legion gathered, their standards flapping in the early morning breeze. Upon a signal from their captain they moved. Marching as one entity they consumed the swamp as they passed through. In their wake, they left only churned up mud and swirling water.
By midday, the legion had Carthus in its sights. Carthus, a once great kingdom when united under High Lord Wolnir had fallen. Now it was overrun by the Abyss.

The legion swarmed around the gates of Carthus, blocking the exit of the residents. It was written in the oath that they swore that nothing of the Abyss would be left standing. A warrior, shrouded in cloth charged the legion, his curved sword raised in a gesture of defiance. The captain stepped forwards before leaping into the elegant dance of the Abyss Watcher’s fighting style. His sword glinted and flashed as he turned and flipped around the defiant warrior, each movement kicking up a cloud of dust.
When the dust settled, the captain was stood by his men and the warrior fell headless to the floor.

The sight of this was enough to send panic through the residents of Carthus. They took off through the streets and alleys of the town in terror, screaming and crying as they went. Amongst the Abyss Watchers, swords were drawn as they awaited the signal from their captain. He raised his fist and pointed to the city as the Abyss Watchers flooded past him in silence, dispersing into the maze that was Carthus. He followed after, as ghostly silent as his underlings.

Screams rang out throughout Carthus as the Abyss Watchers moved through the city, cutting down whoever stood in their path, each blow covering the warriors in the crimson blood of the fallen, soaking their capes as they moved to the next victim. They acted in complete silence, communicating where necessary with hand gestures.

By sunset, the streets of Carthus were home to rivers of crimson and black blood. The Abyss Watchers walked through these rivers, not noticing that they were slipping into madness as they butchered the people of Carthus where they cowered. Night brought new horrors for Carthus as the Abyss Watchers entered the palace where High Lord Wolnir resided. They prowled through the corridors, ending the lives of Wolnir’s children in their purge of the Abyss.

At last, they entered the High Lord’s chamber. The room was filled with a dark sludge. The captain rested his eyes upon the once great lord, who was now nothing but a skeleton. On his arms, he wore three golden bangles. The captain smiled as his men filled the room, keeping Wolnir contained. One brought with him a goblet, a simple thing fashioned out of the leader of the last kingdom that fell to the Abyss. In this, he’d lock Wolnir. He’d join the other corrupt rulers the Abyss had claimed.

As he raised the goblet, he chanted a spell. The words he used were ancient, first used by Master Artorias when he purged Oolacile of the Abyss. As the soldier chanted the captain cut into Wolnir’s ribcage, the darkness of the Abyss flowing past him. It flowed like a river into the goblet, Wolnir’s body disappearing alongside it.

As the legion prepared to depart, walking back through the now silent and stained streets, their swords swung over their shoulders, dripping the blood of the innocents on the floor. They neared the gates, boots soaked with blood and remnants of the Abyss.
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