Sometimes in the darkest of days, it truly is hard to see the light of hope in a place like Lordran. The heroes that once populated the land have been scattered, imprisoned, or killed and it is rare to see a self proclaimed "savior" that can live up to their title. The undead populate what was once prosperous cities, and they are ruled by unnatural creatures born and shaped by the darkness that plagues this land. Still, perhaps it isn't the noble warrior of truth and justice that should save us, perhaps what really is needed, is one whose basic nature to survive is strongest to save our land. Maybe save our entire world in the process.
Draven was placed in a cell, his arms taken and his armor stripped from him. It wasn't his fault that he was given the dark sign in the first place, but the situation was long since out of his control. Now here he was, left to rot in a disgusting, cold, and very uncomfortable cell. It wasn't smelly surprisingly, which he counted as a small blessing but obviously not enough of a comfort to make him want to stay where he was. Rumors of escaping where he was placed, the "Undead Asylum" as it was called, were many but none were proven true. That didn't inspire Draven with enough confidence to be the one to be one of the first to try, especially with his body trained of energy and his stomach calling for food. The guards however were not human, in a literal sense. Undead soldiers with little to no trace of being human shambled about the scraping sound from the tip of their iron swords scratching the cold stone floor. Their armor looked worse for wear: rusted, dented, and plenty of holes from combat long past. Draven realized that perhaps the reason why the cell didn't smell bad, why all the other cells seemed empty for that matter and why of course there were so many undead guards roaming the asylum; was due to the prisoners becoming the wardens after they've shed their mortal coils. Well at least he'll be released when he's dead, again not really a comfort for him but in case he failed to try escaping he'll be in the company of fellow prisoners turned soldiers. Might have some good benefits: shambling along, no worry of having to eat or drink, and if something falls off you won't miss it if you can't put it back on.
Draven hated it here. He hated that he was imprisoned and most of all he hated not having a single bite to eat since he got here. It had been about two or three days, and luckily for him it had rained in that time. He gathered as much water as he could and rationed it as best as he could but what he really wanted, was something to keep his stomach from growling. Warm meat, soft cheese, fresh bread, and a strong ale would be a feast for him right now. Draven was unsure about whether he could break the iron bars or not. They seemed weak and they were loose to a certain point, but they were not bendable and couldn't be dislodged so he could squeeze by. Saving his strength he slumped back against the wall that faced the bars, looking up and guessing that it was about late afternoon from where the sunlight was shining through the holes in the ceiling and the unreachable windows. He thought about trying to climb his way to the windows and see if he would have better luck with them but Draven could not find a foothold to start on. The Asylum was old but to Draven's chagrin, it was still able to fulfill its intended purpose of keeping the unwanted inside. Suddenly the room darkened due to a large shadow that covered the holes in the ceiling; only the window was uncovered and what little sunlight that was left barely lit Draven's cell. The sound of something small and metal hitting the cobblestone floor in the cell reverberated in Draven's ears while the shadow flew off in a loud sound of beating wings and the cry of what Draven thought was that of a raven? When the light had return and his eyes had readjusted, Draven looked around for what had hit the floor. After a few minutes of being on his knees and moving his hand around like a blind man searching for his walking stick, he found what he believed was the object that was dropped. Picking it up and holding it up to the light, Draven's eyes widen in surprise to see that what he was holding in his hand was in fact a key.
"Well, it wouldn't hurt to try it once."
Draven waited for when the guards had shambled off before he reached around to put the key into the cell lock. Again to his surprise, the key fit perfectly and a simple turn made his cell unlock. A nice start to a stroke of luck perhaps? Slowly opening the cell door to create as little sound as possible, Draven pushed himself out and quietly crept across the floor, trying to remain stealthy until he found something to defend himself with. Moving through the corridors and using the open cells as hiding places, Draven had made it to what seemed like the exit to the outside. Torches lighted the hallway and an eerie rose colored light was coming out from the large barred opening to the left of the hall. As he walked cautiously, trying to place himself as close to the right side of the of the hall as possible, hoping to not catch the attention of any shambling guards. He wasn't sure how smart these zombies were, but he didn't want to take any chances regardless. As he made it halfway down the long hallway, the entire room began to shake and the sound of giant footsteps marching down made Draven freeze in fear. Looking behind him he thought he was going to have to run from whatever was making the sound but to his relief there was nothing behind him. Still the sound persisted and the shaking grew worse until Draven looked out to the left. He started to panic at the grotesque monster that trodding along below him. The monster had two large horns, a bloated gray body with comically small wings on it's back and a short but large tail coming from an even larger and more disgusting behind. Over it's shoulder the monster carried a hefty sized hammer that made Draven's legs start to shake. Anything that was smashed by that weapon was going to become a puddle of guts, bone, and blood.
Speedily, Draven crossed the rest of the hallway to a room with a large door in front of it. Seeing the mechanism that worked the door, Draven activated it and waited for the doors to slowly, loudly open befor him. Seeing the gray sky and the bright sun, Draven started to smile at the site of an open gateway before him. Making his way towards the the courtyard, Draven noticed a small fire that seemed to glow brighter as he ran past it; he chalked it up to there being actual human guards that were off duty somewhere else in the asylum. He was about to let out a cry for joy until he heard a loud roar of anger from above him. The very creature he saw from the hallway had appeared on top of a rampart above the gateway. Draven was too afraid to make a run past the creature, but it seemed like he wasn't going to be given the chance anyway when the creature landed in front of him with a loud crashing sound like thunder. Swinging it's large hammer at him, Draven narrowly avoided becoming a pancake on the wall. Seeing a long sword and a dented, kite shield to the right side of the monster, Draven rushed towards them without thinking. Picking up the weapon and shield, Draven saw that the hammer was coming at him from above; he rolled on pure instinct to the right side of it, using the shield to help him roll on the ground.
"Alright you fat bastard! I'm getting out of here alive, and your in my w-"
Draven had been knocked to the side, his bones crushed and his organs mashed when he made impact against the stone wall. The last thing he heard was the roar of triumph from the creature. For what felt like ages of drifting in complete nothingness, Draven saw a strange light in the distance. Believing it to be the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, he made his way towards it hoping for a wonderful paradise for him to relax in. Something with milk and honey or some shit like that; hopefully he'll be greeted by some beautiful women that'll cater to his every desire. To his surprise, disappointment, and relief...He was alive? Looking next to him, was the small camp fire that he passed and behind him was the entrance to the asylum. Behind him was the monster and his freedom. In his right hand was the long sword and in his left was the kite shield. However his body felt different, his armed looked shriveled and weaker yet he felt like his normal self. The curse mark glowed brightly on his shoulder and Draven realized what had happened: he was undead now. However unlike the shambling soldiers that infected the asylum, Draven retained what he assumed was his soul or consciousness, or whatever defined him as himself. Seeing a suit of crude but still in good shape armor, Draven donned it with haste and looked back to where the monster was standing. It seemed waiting for him, as if issuing a challenge for his freedom that Draven gladly accepted.
"Let's try this again...and this time I'm going to make your blood paint the walls."
More confident than before, his fight or flight instincts switched to fight, Draven rushed towards the creature in front of him, letting out a cry of his own.