Nuclear Ash (Darksouls OC X Fallout 4)

Campfire Stories

In the Age of Ancients the world was unformed, shrouded by fog. A land of gray crags, Archtrees and Everlasting Dragons. But then there was Fire and with fire came disparity. Heat and cold, life and death, and of course, light and dark. Then from the dark, They came, and found the Souls of Lords within the flame. Nito, the First of the Dead, The Witch of Izalith and her Daughters of Chaos, Gwyn, the Lord of Sunlight, and his faithful knights. And the Furtive Pygmy, so easily forgotten

With the strength of Lords, they challenged the Dragons. Gwyn's mighty bolts peeled apart their stone scales. The Witches weaved great firestorms. Nito unleashed a miasma of death and disease. And Seath the Scaleless betrayed his own, and the Dragons were no more.

Thus began the Age of Fire. But soon the flames began to fade and only Dark was to remain. Once there were only embers, and man sees not light, but only endless nights. And amongst the living were seen, carriers of the accursed Darksign.

The Darksign brands the Undead. And the Undead were corralled and led to the north, where they all were locked away, to await the end of the world... Then one chosen undead arose, traveling across the land and claiming the souls of the Lords, until they defeated Gwyn and rekindled the First Flame, becoming kindling themselves.

And so the cycle began. The flame would slowly wither until it was but embers. The undead would rise and one would be chosen to reignite the flame, only for the fire to dwindle again.

Centuries later, in a land called Lothric, where the transitory lands of the Lords of Cinder converged, the fire began to fade once again, only no one rose to link the fire. When the link of fire is threatened, the bell tolls, unearthing the old Lords of Cinder from their Graves;
Aldrich, Saint of the Deep

Farron's Undead Legion, the Abyss Watchers

And the reclusive lord of the Profaned Capital, Yhorm the Giant.

Only, in truth, the Lord's abandoned their thrones, and so I arose. Nameless, accursed Undead, unfit even to be cinder. And so it was, that ash seeketh embers. And so it was that I linked the fire.

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"So, let me get this straight. You are an ancient being that can not only die and be reborn, but also control fire itself? And you're thousands of years old?"

Nate voiced the question that everyone present was thinking. The whole group was sitting around the bonfire that the large man claimed to have placed there.

"Yes, sir knight, that is what I am telling you."

"My name is Nate, not 'sir knight'."

"Very well then, Nate it is. And what is your name Sorcerer?" Edgar turned to face Preston.

"Sorcerer? Like magic?" Preston seemed more than a little confused by this. "Well, the name's Preston. But weren't you throwing balls of fire earlier?"

"That is Pyromancy, not Sorcery. You cast a beam of light from your staff, it was even strong enough to kill me. That is clearly some kind of sorcerery."

"Sorcerery, Pyromancy, sound really strange to me. But, you did save us from those raiders. You even let one of 'em live, albeit not without a burn."
Sturges chimed in from behind the group. He was currently applying some kind of medical treatment to the boy's face, hoping to alleviate the pain.

Wallace was quietly staring at the ground. He had been whimpering earlier, but as the pain receded he had gone silent. Edgar felt sorry for the lad. He deserved what he got, after all every action has a consequence, be it good or bad, but the suffering he seemed to be going through was unnecessary.