Gareth and D return to sunlight. Yuina is waiting for them.
D: Are you sure you want me to travel with you? Gareth: It's the least I can do.
Gareth: How long will the path be, with your wounds? D: A day.
Gareth: Alright. Gareth: And you, Yuina, you'll join the other Tarnished on the fork?
Yuina: Aye. Yuina bows. Yuina: It was nice traveling with you.
Gareth bows too, though awkwardly; he's not familiar with this kind of expression. Gareth: The pleasure was mine.
Gareth and D get on Stalwart. Gareth: Alright, let's go.
They ride through the Eastern Tableland, passing through the Ruined Labyrinth.
At the fork after the landbridge, they take a right, descending towards the Carian Study Hall.
They enter the Eastern Liurnian Lake Shore. Before they enter the dangerous lake, they sup and rest. Dusk falls.
They ride southward, through the ruins of the Academy Gate Town, disbanded when the lake was formed.
They carefully wind through Giant Lobsters, heading to the Scenic Isle where Reane and her companions once were; they intend to skip the Laskyar Ruins.
They pass the wandering merchant, meeting land again. They see the Fire Monks. Dawn has arrived.
Gareth and D enter the courtyard of Stormveil Castle. Gareth dismounts; someone attends him. Gareth: Have a doctor see his wounds, Gareth: and, when he is well, get him a horse.
Gareth: Are we ready to march? Is Castle Morne's treasure prepared? Attendant: Yes, sir!
Gareth: Good. Gareth: Let's move!
Gareth, alone, looks at his hand. He has stolen the Black Knifeprint, the runes inscribed on the Assassin's knife. It glows blue and eerie on his face.
Attendant: What is that, sir? Gareth: N-nothing. Gareth hides his hand.
Gareth and a small band of warriors leave for Castle Morne. They exit through Stormgate, hailed by soldiers with trumpets.
They wind through Stormveil, to the Gatefront Ruins.
They pass through Gatefront Ruins, heading to the bridge just north of Lake Agheel.
They pass by the Waypoint Ruins; they see Kaiden Sellswords and the ever-wandering caravan.
They enter the Bridge of Sacrifice. Notably, the guards and the ballista are pointed at the south, in contrast to the game. Guide: The Bridge of Sacrifice. Gareth: Curious name.
Gareth: Why is it called this? Guide: Well, Castle Morne is situated on "the Weeping Peninsula". Guide: This place is gloomy.
Guide: When Marika set to conquer the lands, she sent forth her consort, Godfrey, from far north to south, on a long march.
Gareth: Godfrey? The god of war? Guide: Aye. The same.
The portrait of Godfrey in Stormveil Castle, gigantic, strong, glorious in armor, and accompanied with his Beast Regent, Serosh. Guide, in card: I'm sure you saw icons devoted to Godfrey in your prior world. Guide: Marika, in the beginning of time, took Godfrey as her consort and showed her the magnificence of the Erdtree. Guide: The king of warriors then tamed the beasts created out of the world's chaos: giants, trolls, dragons. Guide: He put order onto the lands, and allowed the settlements of man to flourish. Guide: This was the Long March.
The Sword Monument outside of Castle Morne. Guide: However, Godfrey's reign was not undisputed. Guide: Men denied the Erdtree's absolute sovereignty.
The gigantic, outer wall of Castle Morne, collapsed, as it is today. Guide: On this peninsula, there was a great and powerful city. Guide: Godfrey's army, wearied after a long and taxing campaign, hoped to reason with them. Guide: Instead they were met with insolence.
Guide: Godfrey laid siege to the city, and after many years of war tore down the walls, and brought the city to his power. Guide: Godfrey was an honorable warrior, but not a merciful one. And the siege exhausted his generosity.
Guide: The Bridge of Sacrifice is so named, because the city sought to save itself by sacrificing the few. Guide: Godfrey hanged them here.
Gareth: And then? Guide: And then Godfrey razed the city, killing everyone.
Gareth: He's an ill man. Guide: I suppose he wasn't in a good mood, being put upon for however long.
Gareth: You don't become a god of war without killing, it seems. Guide: Aye.
Guide: And yet Godfrey was denied grace, at the end of his march.
Gareth: Oh good. At least there's a happy ending.
The band presses forward. They see Irina sitting alone, in the distance.
Irina, closer. Dead soldiers surround her.
Gareth: ...Irina?
Irina: Hello? Is somebody there?
Gareth: It is I, Gareth. Gareth: Gaer's brother.
Irina: Gaer? Irina: Where is he?
Gareth: He...is not disposed.
Irina: I've escaped from Castle Morne. Irina: The servants there...have rebelled.
Gareth: ! Gareth: The servants? But...how?
Irina: They forged iron weapons out of our sight and tore off their bonds.
Gareth: You don't mean... Gareth: Your Misbegotten servants? Irina: Aye, them.
Knight: Misbegotten? By whom? Gareth: Recall the demihumans, at Fort Haight? How shrunken and hairless they are?
Gareth: The Misbegotten are uglier. Face of men, bodies of animals.
Irina: Aye. The menials were unhappy with their lot in the castle.
Irina: I heard frightful howling all over... Irina: My father secreted me out of the castle,
Irina: but decided himself to stay. Irina: He says it's his duty, as commander.
Irina: I...fear for father's life.
Gareth: I want two strong knights to defend Irina. Gareth: We will go, and end this insurrection.
Irina: Thank you, Gareth. Irina: Please, take this. She hands him a letter.
Irina: I...don't doubt your bravery, Irina: but, if it is impossible, then this may convince him to come back.
Gareth: Irina, stay safe. Irina: I shall, Knight Gareth.
The band of knights enter the pass. It has begun to rain.
Where the pass opens, they see palisades guarded by soldiers. A troll squats by them.
Gareth, addressing a soldier: Well-met, sir. We come from Stormveil. Soldier: I'm happy to see you.
Soldier: They've stopped pursuing us. Soldier: 'Tis good because the troll no longer wants to fight.
Gareth stares at the troll, feeling uneasy; obviously, not long ago, he was beaten into a bloody mess by one.
Gareth: How long have you been here? Soldier: Weeks. Why did it take you so long?
Gareth: ...The fault is mine. Soldier: Well. I'm not one to be sour, but they stopped to eat my brothers.
Soldier: Please, even if only for my sake, repel them.
The band of knights pass the palisade.
They see the Misbegotten. They are raising their iron cleavers high in the air.
They bring them down, reducing the bodies of the soldiers into pulps. They then chew on the pulps, smearing their faces and limbs with blood.
Knight: By Marika...they are horrifying. Another Knight: They look better in chains.
Gareth: Attack! The knights rush forward.
The Misbegotten look up from their carrion.
The knights and the Misbegotten clash.
The Misbegotten are defeated, after a fairly pitiful fight. Knight: Those things are strong. Dented my armor. Another Knight: Thank goodness they only have the brains for eating and killing. Gareth: Alright, let's move on.
They see the collapsed wall, the only sign, in modern day, of Godfrey's ancient battle with the settlement around Castle Morne.
Castle Morne, in the far distance. In the present day, there are no signs of the ancient settlement whatsoever; it has been all reduced to rolling plain.
Gareth: That's odd. No defenses around. Knight: Let me take a look-see... The knight takes out his telescope.
Gareth: I suppose they're flushed with their victory. Gareth: Or, they didn't think this far through. The knight looks.
From a distance, he sees a golem, its chest pouring out fire.
The golem nocks its bow.
A giant arrow flies through the arrow, warping the wind by its sheer size and speed.
The arrow lands in the middle of the band, flattening several knights into bloody puddles and breaking earth.
Gareth: Everyone! Spread out! Gareth: Hide behind the hills!
The knights scatter throughout the countryside.
Some knights hide behind some trees, hoping to not be seen by the archer.
The arrow comes flying, smashing them into stains of blood.
Gareth and some knights are hiding behind a giant ruined structure.
The arrow comes. It rocks the structure; Gareth puts his shield above him, stopping the rocks raining on him. However, they are mostly safe.
Knight: It'll have to run out of arrows, at some time. Gareth: ...
Gareth: It's going to train its bow on the others now, I bet.
Gareth: What do you think? Should we charge? Knight: ...
Gareth: That's an answer. Gareth runs out. Knight: Gareth!
Other knights run to the golem's right side.
The golem faces those knights.
Gareth comes out, screaming. Gareth: AHHHHHHHH!
The golem turns and glances at Gareth.
The glow of grace in Gareth's eyes.
The golem, seeing the gold in Gareth's eyes, points his bow at Gareth.
The golem fires.
Gareth frantically jumps away.
The arrow strikes the ground violently, knocking Gareth far away.
Gareth is knocked into a tree, snapping its branches off.
Gareth recovers himself. Gareth: Uhhh...
The golem points its bow at Gareth again.
All of the knights now are converging on the golem. Knights: AHHHHHHH!
The knights hack at the golem's ankles, trying to unsteady it.
The knights try to jump onto the golem's arms.
The golem, unaware of the knights' presence, nocks its bow.
The golem falls forward, the knights having hacked apart its ankles. The golem fires, its arrow landing in empty space, and yet the force still knocks aside knights.
The knights stare at the golem's chest. Knight: How does this damn thing work?!
The knights try to pry open the golem's chest, which seems to guard the golem's fiery vitality.
The chest comes open; fire pours out, burning the knights. The golem rolls upward, to the sky.
Fire plumes into the sky.
The golem dims dark, having lost all of its energy source.
Gareth limps to the knights, who stand at a loss for their deceased comrades. Gareth: Anyone know what this is?
Knight: I saw these in Leyndell...ancient technology, predating the Erdtree. Knight: The fire's the proof.
Knight: Who in Marika's name got this up?
Gareth: The Misbegotten? Knight: ...Absurd thought, but...
Gareth: Well, we have the luxury of time. Let's bury the dead.
Miniature graves are shown to be set up, next to the sword monument commemorating the final stand against Godfrey.
The band of knights enter the castle, dimly lit with a few torches.
A lift down the hallway.
They take the lift; it travels, and then it stops.
The view of Castle Morne, interior. The Misbegotten have killed all of the castle's inhabitants and put them in a giant pile on the righthand side of the courtyard. Some of the bodies are set on burning stakes. In the background, a bridge can be seen where crucifixes hang tall. They are exalting over their victory; a large Misbegotten is at the highest part of pile, screaming in joy, while the others roar back in jubilation.
The large Misbegotten is roaring hoarsely, his face twisted with rage.
Misbegotten are chopping the bodies up into pieces, eating them.
The Misbegotten dance around their fiery stakes.
Knight: Monsters... Knight: Monsters, all...
The knights tighten their hands on their weapons.
The Misbegotten celebrate.
The knights rush forward, their weapons raised high.
The Misbegotten look upon the intruders, in horror.
A massacre, of the knights brutalizing the Misbegotten, strewing their guts everywhere and painting the courtyard with their blood.
The Misbegotten corpses fall next to the corpses of humans.
A knight stomps on the dead Misbegotten's face, and pierces his sword into its chest.
The knight twists the sword, so blood pours out. Knight: Vermin... Monster... Pigshit...
The knights hack off the Misbegotten's limbs and tongues.
Other tortures I don't even want to think about.
Gareth: Everyone, everyone! Hold on!
A Misbegotten rushes past Gareth; a knight chases the Misbegotten, bumping into Gareth. Gareth: Oof!
Gareth, screaming: Everyone, stop!
Gareth is calling out to the courtyard of chaos. Gareth: Come to your senses! Gareth: Leave one well, so we can interrogate them!
A knight drags a Misbegotten to Gareth. Knight: Here's one.
Gareth: Where's Edgar? Misbegotten: ... He has tears in his eyes.
The knight pushes the Misbegotten's face to the ground harshly. Knight: Answer the man, maggot! The Misbegotten cries in agony.
The knight pushes and pushes, until blood pours from the Misbegotten's face. Knight: Where is Edgar?! Knight: Dost thou value thy life?!
Gareth: Hold on, man. Gareth stops him. Gareth: Come on now, this has to end. Where's Edgar?
The Misbegotten looks up to Gareth. He has bitten his tongue off.
The Misbegotten slumps over, dying.
Gareth: ...Alright. Gareth: Anyone else?
Gareth sees the pandemonium around him. Gareth: I suppose not.
The knights are now settled; blood paints their mail. Gareth: Alright. Let's do a thorough search of the castle. Gareth: I and some others will go up the battlements directly. Gareth: The rest will go through the castle's left.
Gareth and the knights go to the back of the courtyard.
They climb the ladder to the battlements.
Winged Misbegotten fly in the air.
They fire arrows at the knights.
The arrows bounce off of Gareth's shield.
The knights fire their crossbows at the Misbegotten, grounding them.
Gareth looks to the most eastward battlement. He sees soldiers engaging with Misbegotten there. Gareth: There's movement. Gareth: Edgar must be couped up there.
Gareth: Stay here. Gareth: And - please - keep the hostages intact. Gareth jumps down.
The Misbegotten sink their cleavers into a soldier's flesh, almost tearing his arm off. Soldier: Ahh!
The Misbegotten, gleefully, kicks his feet in the air, bringing the cleaver high.
He bashes the soldier's skull, crushing it.
Gareth bashes the Misbegotten.
It lands beside other Misbegotten.
The Misbegotten take notice of Gareth, and attack him.
The Misbegotten beat against Gareth's greatshield with their cleavers. This remarkably strong man is pushed back by their blows.
The blows dent the shield. Gareth: I-Incredible!
Gareth: Were they always this strong? How were they subdued? Gareth: Or is it...
Gareth: Their blades are strengthened by resentment?
The blows stop. Gareth looks from his greatshield.
The soldiers have pierced their spears and swords into the Misbegotten's bodies.
Soldier: Thank Marika you're here. Soldier: You...?
Gareth: Gareth. Gareth: Gaer's brother.
The soldier points to a raised platform. Soldier: Edgar is up there.
Edgar, sitting on a bench, alone. He is hunched over, tired, at a loss, distraught, and beaten. This normally proud and strong man seems so small and pathetic in his miseries. Gareth: Edgar.
Edgar: ... Edgar: You're Gaer's brother. Gareth: Aye.
Edgar: Where is...? Gareth: Dead.
Edgar: ...I'm sorry. Gareth: ...
Edgar: As you can see, the menials have rebelled. Edgar: They gave me good service, or so I thought.
Edgar: But it was all an act. Edgar: Foul creatures, inside and out.
Edgar: Gareth. I cannot put this in more dire terms. Edgar: Castle Morne will not hold for much longer.
Gareth: We no longer need Morne. Gareth: We'll move your men to Stormveil.
Edgar: Men? All five of us? Edgar: Heh heh heh...
Gareth: Here. Gareth hands him Irina's letter.
Edgar: This is from...? Gareth: Your daughter.
Edgar reads it.
Edgar: Alright. Edgar: Do you have the treasure?
Gareth: The Grafted Blade? Gareth: Aye.
Gareth: Thank ye for bestowing it upon Gaer.
Edgar: Failed or no, I, the castellan, must ensure the castle's treasure does not fall into the wrong hands. Edgar: Can you return it?
The Moangrove, and the long stretch of coast leading to it. A Leonine Misbegotten is seen, praying in it. Edgar, in card: Behind the castle, there is someplace called the Moangrove, where the lords of the castle have been buried. Edgar: The sword rightfully belongs there. Edgar: But a truly dreadful Misbegotten is there, I know not why. Edgar: A true beast.
Edgar: The castle does not connect to it. It can only be reached by boat. Edgar: But that, is not possible now.
Edgar: But I daresay it's not difficult to climb from the battlements... Gareth: Climbing? Really?
Edgar: I'll stay here and order a safe retreat. Edgar: Thank you. You reminded me of what's precious.
Gareth and Edgar return to the knights. Gareth: I've spoken with the castellan. Gareth: We will retreat -
They hear a rumbling. Gareth: What is that?
A head of a knight is thrown at their feet.
From the bridge, an army of Misbegotten storm to the knights. They have slain the other division of knights and tore their limbs and heads from their bodies.
Gareth: Uhh... Edgar: Fall back! The knights fall back over a wooden bridge; they enter a turret with one side exposed.
Knight: Wonderful. This is the best position to defend ourselves? Edgar: Yes! Now get to it!
Edgar and the knights hack up the Misbegotten. Edgar: Gareth! Down the cliff! Gareth: Are you sure?
Edgar: Just go! Gareth climbs down the turret. He carries the Grafted Blade Greatsword on his back.
Gareth lands on the cliff. Below him are a succession of cliffs. Gareth: My poor knees...
Gareth jumps down the cliffs onto a wooden scaffolding. Gareth: Couldn't have built a lift, for such a storied castle?...
Gareth runs down a crumbling battlement. Misbegottens meet him.
He pushes down off the battlement.
He watches them fall, noticing a tower below him. Gareth: This stupid place...
Gareth jumps onto the tower, then onto the cliffs below it. Gareth: The real weeping was done by the architect...
Gareth falls on another turret.
He examines the cross beams below, and falls on them accordingly.
He lands and walks out of the tower.
The Moangrove. Jellyfish drift below; the earth is thinly covered in water, such that the Moangrove is colored in blue. To the left of frame is the Moangrove proper, where a giant tombstone looms.
Gareth jumps off to the right, in the direction of the Moangrove. Gareth: Will my ankles complain after one more jump? Maybe, but why not.
Water splashes over Gareth. He runs towards the Moangrove. The rain makes noticeable imprints on the water.
The Leonine Misbegotten is praying in the Moangrove.
Misbegotten: ...Human. Misbegotten: I recognize you not. Misbegotten: What have you come for?
Gareth: ...You can talk?
Misbegotten: Yes. How do you think I understood your orders?
Gareth: ...I see. Gareth: I have come to put the castle's treasure in its rightful place. Gareth: Please leave.
Misbegotten: No. Misbegotten: Let us fight.
Gareth: If I can be frank, I want to do no more fighting today. Gareth: Please, let us come to an agreement.
Misbegotten: Then let me say my peace.
Gareth: But, I am in a hurry. Gareth: Your kind are killing my companions.
Misbegotten: Then we must fight. Misbegotten: There is no other choice.
Gareth: ...Fine. Go ahead.
Misbegotten: My position is simple: Misbegotten: I own this castle. Misbegotten: Leave the sword, then: you leave.
Gareth: I'm sorry, sir, but you were brought to the castle. Gareth: The castle nor the sword are yours.
Gareth: If you intend to be unreasonable, then let us duel.
Misbegotten: Then I educate you: Misbegotten: The blood of the dead flow through my veins. Misbegotten: I am the true lord of this castle.
Gareth: What? Misbegotten: Are your ears open, knave?
Gareth: That's impos- Misbegotten: Stop, stop.
Misbegotten: Are you new? Misbegotten: You know nothing about the Golden Order?
Gareth: Hold your tongue, yes I do.
Gareth: Mind, body, and fate are con- Gareth: Oh.
Misbegotten: You lack imagination. Misbegotten: When my fate changed, my body changed.
Misbegotten: I am, in fact, the lord of this castle, Misbegotten: for I had been the lords of this castle. Misbegotten: I was gifted it by Radagon, second Elden Lord, architect of the Golden Order, Misbegotten: as I am his descendant.
Gareth: ...Why? Misbegotten: Why was I born in this body?
Misbegotten: Even before royalty, you're insolent? Misbegotten: Know your place.
Misbegotten: I lived on this land for millennia. Misbegotten: I administered its people, since time immemorial. Misbegotten: I once harbored a Great Rune in my body, as a pillar of the Golden Order.
The Misbegotten, growling and hardly able to conceal his anger. Misbegotten: And yet, you Tarnished... Misbegotten: ...who failed so often in your prior lives... Misbegotten: ...who are but dust to us demigods... Misbegotten: ...chained me, branded me, used me as chattel... Misbegotten: ...not knowing I am of superior blood than you?
The Misbegotten swings his sword threateningly. Misbegotten: Give me my sword. Misbegotten: Get out of my castle. Misbegotten: After you have kneeled before me!
Gareth charges at the Misbegotten.
Sword and shield clash.
The Misbegotten darts to Gareth's side, but Gareth quickly turns toward him. Gareth: Unfortunately for you...
Gareth bashes the Misbegotten's face with his shield. Gareth: ...you're much slower!
The Misbegotten's nose bleeds.
He roars.
With two hands he sweeps the sword against Gareth; Gareth blocks, but is pushed back.
The Misbegotten roars, consumed by rage. He beats at Gareth's shield with his sword.
Gareth's shield is dented, by the blows strengthened by resentment.
The Misbegotten, in a rage, raises the sword overhead.
Gareth crushes the Misbegotten's toes with his greatshield. The Misbegotten buckles in pain.
Gareth raises the greatshield over his head.
He smashes the Misbegotten over the head. The Misbegotten screams.
Gareth pushes further and further, bringing the full weight of his body down. Bones can be heard being crushed.
The Misbegotten, now a broken pile on the ground. Gareth is breathing heavily.
Gareth: Man... Gareth: I truly have nothing against your kind. Gareth: I'll take a comrade in hell.
Gareth: But I cannot go back to my knights having accomplished nothing.
Blood spills out of the Misbegotten's mouth. Misbegotten: Then...we are at...an impasse.
Misbegotten: I...have not forgotten...my nobility... Misbegotten: Radagon...gave me this title... Misbegotten: Marika...gave me this body... Misbegotten: I cannot...go back...to my brethren...with nothing, as well...
Gareth: ... Gareth: Please. Gareth: It cannot end this way. Gareth: We can negotiate.
Misbegotten: Battle is bitter... Misbegotten: Such is our lot... Misbegotten. Do it.
Gareth raises his greatshield overhead.
The Misbegotten raises his hand to the sky, groping for something ephemeral. Misbegotten: ...I just want to see rays of gold, once more. Misbegotten: Even graceless.
Misbegotten: Let us go together, comrades...
Gareth brings the shield down, ending him.
The greatsword rests in its rightful place, in the center of the tombstones, beneath the giant tombstone.
Gareth, in a small boat, rows towards the front of the castle.
Gareth hurries through the courtyard, where the massacre had taken place.
The knights are surrounded, on both sides, by Misbegotten at the Behind the Castle grace. The Misbegotten throw things down from the turret at them, which are blocked by their shields. From the wall, a few knights and Misbegotten have died, though, overall, the knights have defended themselves admirably.
The view of the turret. Gareth, hotheaded man, is charging right into the thick of the Misbegotten; they are pushed off the turret. Gareth: MEN! HAVE HEART!
The knights slay the Misbegotten who have fallen. Knights: Huzzah! Edgar: The man of the hour!
Gareth jumps into the thick of the Misbegotten before the wall, separating the line in half and causing panic. Gareth: To arms!
The knights jump over the wall and slaughter the Misbegotten.
The Misbegotten are dead. Gareth: We're not a bad size. Gareth: But, a host of them are coming from the north. Gareth: We better climb down. There are still boats left. Edgar: Alright. Then we wind through the east coast and sneak behind them.
Gareth's knees quiver as he looks down the cliffs again. Gareth: Uhhh... Edgar: I'll help you down, man. It's the least I can do.
Gareth and Edgar passing the Moangrove. The knights are rushing to the boats. Edgar: ... Gareth: Don't worry. When we return to Stormveil, we'll bring out a larger host. Gareth: The grove will go unspoiled.
They push out into sea. Gareth: It's my fault, for bringing so few men. Edgar: Please, don't speak more on it.
The boats depart, lonely in the dark sea, the rain obscuring their figures.
On the eastern coast. The poison swamp is near at hand.
They hide in the trees, as the host of Misbegotten, with their crackling torchs, pass by.
They see Tarnished in chains, kicked down and beaten, as the Misbegotten were before.
Knight: Poor fellows...
They push northward. All is silent in the night.
They enter the pass. It is eerily quiet.
The palisades that had guarded the pass from the Misbegotten has been torn down. Edgar: Oh no... Edgar rushes past, his face troubled.
Gareth runs forward. He hears a lamentable wail from Edgar in the distance.
Edgar is holding Irina's body, mangled by the Misbegotten. He has tears in his eyes. Edgar: Irina! Irina! Edgar: Oooooooooh...
A view of the Bridge of Sacrifice. Edgar: Ooooooooooh!
The knights walk gloomily through the Bridge of Sacrifice. Gareth is comforting Edgar. Edgar: How could this be... My daughter deserved better...
Edgar: I chose... I chose duty over... my daughter's safety... Edgar: Ooooooooh!
Knight: Gareth. Knight: I'm sure one of the Sellswords will lend you a horse.
Knight: You can ride to Stormveil and assemble the army there. Gareth: Then I'll go, and be back by dawn.
The knights murmur behind Gareth's back. Another Knight: Feh. Wouldn't have happened with Gaer... Another, Another Knight: Massacred by animals... Another, Another Knight: All those days doing nothing, the girl's blood is on his hands.
Gareth rides off into the dark night.
Edgar is on the edge of the bridge. The knights don't know what to do with him; he's lost his mind. Edgar: Irina... Irina... Edgar: It's my fault...
Edgar: I had no children in my old world... Edgar: I was a barren tree.
Edgar: You were a gift to your mother and I... Edgar: As evil as this life is, you were my light.
Edgar: I tried to be a good father to you... Edgar: I wanted to show you what a good man looked like...
Edgar: I failed.
Edgar descends. Edgar: Let me make amends. Knight: Sir! No!
Edgar falls down the Bridge of Sacrifice.
In the morning, Gareth has come with a large army from Stormveil.
He hears the news of Edgar. He is crestfallen.
The army marches to Castle Morne.
The army slaughters the Misbegotten, in the courtyard of massacres. It is night again.
Blood-spattered, Gareth has an unmistakable look of disgust on his face.
Gareth is sitting where he originally found Edgar. A Tarnished approaches him. Tarnished: Sir, the Misbegotten have fled. Gareth: Are the prisoners secured? Tarnished: Yes.
Gareth: Leave a garrison here. Gareth: The Misbegotten come to Stormveil. Gareth: I do not want them slaughtered here.
A team of horses, hitched wagons. The cages of Misbegotten are here. Gareth gets into a wagon. Gareth: I hardly slept in the last three days. Gareth: Really, the last week. Gareth: I'll close my eyes, the hour. Tarnished: Aye, sir.
Gareth, after a harrowing series of adventures, rests, seated.
Gareth wakes up in the Roundtable Hold. He is seated and facing Rogier, who is also seated, with a blanket on his lap.
Gareth: Ro-Ro- Rogier: Take your time, fellow.
Gareth hugs Rogier. Gareth: My man! Is this the Erdtree's doing? Rogier: N-No...
Rogier: We're in the Roundtable Hold. Rogier: A dreaming-place for champions.
Rogier: A Finger has drawn the fate of the Tarnished together... Rogier: ...painting this...hold.
Gareth: Finger? That old crone? Rogier: No...that's a long story.
Rogier: It seems my soul is making a stay here before I'm cycled through the Erdtree... Rogier: Thanks for that, by the way.
Gareth: None at all. Gareth: You really have D to thank.
Rogier: D? Rogier: Hah...
Rogier: Listen, man, I haven't been entirely straight with you. Gareth: It's okay. D explained.
Gareth: You were consumed by a disease of the Erdtree. Rogier: Yes.
Rogier: That's also why I cannot move toward you, now. Rogier: I am still being consumed by that disease.
Gareth: ! Rogier: There seems to be a misconception. Rogier: You two only delayed my decay.
Rogier: But soon I shall lose all, regardless. Gareth: And that means...?
Rogier: My mind, body and fate will go their own separate ways. Rogier: And I won't know what they do.
Rogier: You saw the...thing in the basement? Gareth: Aye.
Rogier: In my arrogance, I looked upon the face of the Prince of Death. Rogier: His power is irresistible. He has total dominion over me.
Rogier: But I have no fear. Rogier: I just have a burning curiosity to find out. Gareth: What?
Rogier: What this all portends, of course,
Rogier: The scholars of the Golden Order see this as heresy. Rogier: "When the Golden Order is mended, this will be fixed."
Rogier: I think different. Rogier: After years of war, doesn't hurt to, right?
Gareth: Rogier... Gareth shows his palm to Rogier.
A blue glow overcomes Rogier's face. Rogier: What is... Rogier: By Marika...
The Black Knifeprint. Rogier: You're mad. Rogier: Oh, you mad man. Rogier: The Black Knifeprint.
Gareth: D and I met a Black Knife in your catacombs. Rogier: If I believed in Marika, that's fate.
Rogier: Please, Gareth, lend me the knifeprint for a time. I'd love nothing more than to tease out its secrets.
Gareth: ... Gareth: I didn't take this for no reason. Gareth: Under D's nose, no less.
Gareth: If this thing...severs fate... Gareth: ...can it also...bring Gaer back?...
Rogier: Gareth. Rogier: I will find out.
Gareth clasps Rogier's hand strongly and affectionately, entrusting the Knifeprint to him.
Gareth, heading out to the hold: So, I suppose I'll give you quiet? Rogier, staring at the Knifeprint: Yes, yes.
Gareth walks out to the center of the hold. He sees Gideon, attended by Ensha.
Gareth walks by Gideon. Gideon: Timid fellow, are you? Gideon: Or you think you own the place?
Gareth: I...uhh... Gideon: I'm joking, fellow. You do, in some sense, own the hold.
Gideon: You're a shardbearer, are you not? Gideon: Gareth? Gideon extends his hand. Ensha watches intently.
Gareth: How do you know...? Gideon: Your exploits are renowned. Gareth takes the handshake.
Gideon: I, too, am a Tarnished who wishes to stand before the Elden Ring and become Elden Lord. Gideon: You now belong to a select group of fellows.
Roderika comes in. Roderika: Gareth! Gareth: Roderika? It can't be!
Gareth hugs Roderika. Gideon: ... Reane comes in as well. Reane: Gareth. Gareth: Reane!
Gareth runs to Reane, but pauses. Gareth: Don't tell me... Reane: No, no, I'm but a visitor.
Reane: Gareth... I'm glad your mood is much improved. Reane: I'm sorry for... Gareth: Please, please, no more words.
They hug. Gareth: I'm glad to be glad to see you two again.
Roderika: You and Sir Roderick met, already? Gideon: ...Yes.
Gideon: Sir, I am sure you are on serious business, and can't spend all your time on idle chatter -
Gideon points to the closed doors. Gideon: I suggest, as a shardbearer, you speak with the Two Fingers.
Gareth: Two...what? Gideon: The Fingers are the bridge between the Golden Order and the Greater Will.
Gideon: They read the truth of the Greater Will, so that, as in heaven, so on earth.
Gideon: They also created this hold, for those like us. Gideon: So, might as well be respectful.
Gareth: Oh... Gareth: Well, I'm somewhat shy... Gareth: Reane, Roderika?
Gideon: Shardbearers only - Rogier, from another room: There's no rule that says the Fingers choose their audience.
Gideon, irritated. Reane: I'd love to see these. They motion toward the doors.
Gareth opens the doors.
The Two Fingers, alien, ugly, almost evil in its foreign appearance. It is ragged, worn and raw with sores as a result of milennia of tear. Finger Reader Enia sits humbly by it.
Enia: Tarnished, are you? Enia: Welcome.
Enia: I apologize for not...attending to you, if you had entered prior. Enia: I'm often lost in conversation.
Enia: We live in evil times. Enia: I try to read as much of the Greater Will's wisdom as I can.
Gareth gives his hand. Gareth: Gareth. Enia: Enia.
Reane and Roderika give their hands. Reane: Reane. Roderika: Roderika.
Enia, to Roderika: Miss, you're dead. Roderika: I...uh...I'm sorry.
Enia: That's remarkable. Enia: Your soul did not flow to the Erdtree. Enia: You have a special fate.
Enia, to Reane and Gareth: As to you two, Enia: grace colors your eyes.
Gareth and Reane: ! Enia: Isn't it obvious?
Enia: There haven't been graced Tarnished for so long. Enia: But I doubt Marika, nowadays.
Reane: Is there a difference between Marika and the Greater Will? Enia: Yes, absolutely.
Enia: The Greater Will is a host of brilliant stars, unseen in all the worlds. Enia: The Golden Order is but a pattern after it.
Enia: Marika is mortal compared to the Greater Will - Enia: The greatness and goodness of her reign were based on it.
Enia: And now, she has strayed from it. Enia: And now, times are evil.
Reane: And yet, Reane: if Marika is indebted to the Greater Will, Reane: how is she still all-powerful?
Enia: Good question. Enia: Perhaps she is not.
Enia: Perhaps the gold that flecks your eyes is from the Greater Will itself.
Enia: Wouldn't that be glorious? Gareth and Reane: ...
Reane, in thought: Even in the realm of the gods, the spiritual is confused. Enia: Shardbearer. You are more attuned than she. Enia: Give me your hand.
Gareth extends his hand. Enia takes it.
The Two Fingers begins to tremble.
The next two panels are divided views of the Two Fingers. Enia: "Great Elden Ring, root of the Golden Order. Anchor of all lands, giver of grace, wellspring of joy. Until it was shattered." Enia: "The tragic corruption of the Order has taken its toll. Across the realm, life lies in ruin. Foul curses and misery spread, unabating."
Enia: "But the Greater Will has not abandoned the realm, nor the life that inhabits it." Enia: "So it is that the Tarnished are guided by grace. Called to act."
Enia: "Seek the Erdtree, and an audience with Queen Marika." Enia: "Become Elden Lord, and restore the Golden Order."
Enia: ...and that is all.
Gareth: Head to Leyndell? Gareth: ...Well, that's what the knights want.
Gareth: But... Gareth: Be frank with me... Gareth: How many knights have tried to seek audience with Marika?
Enia: The question is irrelevant. Enia: The Greater Will shall provide all things.
Gareth: ... Gareth bows. Gareth: It was a pleasure meeting you, madam.
Reane and Roderika bow too. Enia: The Greater Will expect much from you all.
They leave the Two Fingers' room. Roderika: I have to show you Master Hewg!
Roderika: Oh, and then I have to show you my spirits! Gareth sees something in a side room.
Gareth presses on. Roderika: I'm getting quite good at spirit tuning!
Deathbed Companion Fia is holding a warrior in her arms. The light of the fireplace flickers softly on her black veil.