Ashen One's Questionnaire

The kingdom of Lordran, in silent solidtude.

The kingdom is a vast and treacherous land, shrouded in darkness and ruled by powerful Lords of Cinder. I am constantly faced with the dangers and mysteries that lurk around every corner, yet still I remain in the hopes my Player comes back.

From towering knights clad in armor to fierce dragons that soar through the skies, Lordran is a realm ill fitting for the meek, but my determination and skill carry me through. I take refuge at the sacred Firelink Shrine, where I seek solace and guidance as I embark on my quest to link the flame and restore balance to our troubled kingdom, and find my player whom lays beyond.

Born from the hot steels of my realm, I receive my  gold and wares by battle. Selling the my service, and the parts of those slain in my way. Money has little use where I come from, although in the realms beyond, the realm of Neo-Genis, I have learnt to earn my place in their society.

I offered my blade to the Crimson Flame, and they have paid well. I use what's earned to repair my soul for the next battle, and keep my sword sharp and shield hardened. If any left, I only indulge. A simple pleasure of which I have come to enjoy.

For so long, I have been fighting for humanity; my own humanity. I was motioned by fate to follow a story that wasn't mine, forced to guide my blade to whom I had no quarrel with... My quest is to find reason.

Perhaps there's more in the lands beyond, the word of which they call "Earth". Tt's true to me that mine soul is one created out of passing thought. To be sent to death on an endless loop; awaiting the next battle only to die, over and over again.  Perhaps I wish to die, truly, and forget, perhaps I should choose to follow my own fate. Break free from the binds of which was shackled on me.

To arise beyond the person who left me. My choice will be to fight, til death do us part.

I still remember Life. They spoke to me as I witness the fog. Telling tales of the Age of Ancients. They spoke of the lands, and the Dragons. The fire, and with that very same fire, came disparity. I felt the heat, and the cold. The Life and Death. The Light, and the Dark. From the Dark, I saw them come, they found the Souls of Lords within the Flame. And with the Strength of Lords, they challenged the Dragons; a battlefield scorn with atrocities until they were no more...

I witnessed this, in a vision before my birth. 

I sat alone, in the dark, swallowed by solace. A stranger, Oscar, brought me the Dungeon Key... It was that very momemt, I felt the Player's Grasp on me, and I was brought to my feet. It was a given purpose, of which I still cherish to this day, despite the nightmares of which plague me.

A Lord of the Crimson Flame. The Chimera Emperor whom wishes to guild those to their strength. I met them through another warrior's words, yet they have become one I have sword my undying Loyalty to. They are passionate and caring: emotions of which I do not understand, but see the use of. I may not have many to call my friend, this one, I call my dearest Allie. Should we meet in battle, I would grant them word before blades are drawn.

Another, they ask, yet Another I do not know. There is of course the winds, but they are silenced. Perhaps I dear say, that the Player is one, of any. I do not know them, they may have forgotten me... I am, who I am, for the hands of which created me, is what destroys my being every moment I pick up that shield. 

As for the third? I beg not speak of them... Many secrets should not be spoken.

I was created. My story started in the dark, finding the light as I carried on through the damp halls, and cold winds. If I did have parents, or a childhood, I'd hope that the past would not have brought me to where I am now. I would have been a different being, wouldn't I?

I wonder what I would have taken up, if not for a shield and sword. I'd wish me  to hold up a brush to an empty canvas... Or sing with a voice I do not have. I have asked others of their childhoods. What they wanted, and compared to what was of them now. Some had regrets, others were proud of what they had accomplished.

It is selfish of me to want, to need. To feel anymore green with jealousy. I was not afforded the privilege of forging my own path; but granted to start with mine already tempered... The Days will show what will become of my childhood; as I am reborn in the realm of Neo-Genis.

I remain, not understanding, a soul entwined in the thickets of confusion, ever longing for the gentle caress of warmth. Mayhaps one day I shall unveil the scroll that contains the wisdom of the heart—where love’s true visage is revealed and my spirit set free. Until then, I shall wander this path, ever in search of a beacon to guide me homeward to the sanctum of love’s embrace.

Love is uncomplicated as the tilled earth, whose adoration blossoms like grain in spring, nourished by the sun and rain. But I, bound by honor and oath, wrestle with the riddle of love as a scholar grapples with a tome written in a tongue long forgotten. What is this potion called love—an elixir sweet or bitter draught? I cannot decipher its taste, and it fills my days with ponder like the fading rays of a sunset, leaving only shadows in my wake.

I am but a silent spectator, cursed to admire from afar, for the harp of my heart remains unstrung.

Finding that I have no purpose; that my story is just to die as a forgotten Knight without a destiny.

I was born of nothing, indeed, yet I fear that it would very much end the same way it started. Whilst I have allies of whom I may stand with, they know not what I persists on my mind; this such, a weakness of my own I admit. I cannot express that of which I do not understand. While the days come on, this fear grows ever greater.

As I make more strives to become the better of me previous, the future seems bleak to behold: Once I have left this plain, in life or death, the thought of what I might leave behind terrifies me.

Would I have left a tale that was not taken as fiction? Would my shield and sword bear the weight of those I have made suffer, or the gratitude of whom I saved? My fear, to be simply written down, would belittle it, would it not?

Yet, this is a enemy I cannot battle just yet: My thoughts. My ambitions. The shackles as I've come to call it. The fear that I have no purpose; that I am no one.

A bushel of glorious nasturtium, blooming in hues that rival the very tapestry of the sunset and the fervor of fire. Each petal, a chalice of vibrant scarlet, deep amber, and golden orange.

I am reminded of the pure spirit of the child who bestowed upon me such a gift. 'Twas with trembling hands and an innocent smile that the little one presented this floriferous emblem of hope and gratitude after I  shielded them from the tides of darkness that sought to consume their light. Tending this cherished flower, I wield not a sword but a gentle hand, nurturing the delicate petals as one would guard a sacred trust. For within its leafy embrace lies the memory of a child's laughter, a reminder that even amidst the clamor of war and strife, there exists a sanctuary of peace—a patch of earth where love and gratitude bloom eternal.

Mayhap in the twilight of my days, when the battles have ceased and the armor gathers dust, this potted flower shall stand as a testament to the victories born not of steel but of compassion.

Understanding where I lie with myself, and the world around me.

I know this plain, made of human and soulless is unlike the world I came from. Yet I cannot shake the feeling that I still face monsters everyday. I know them all. I know who they are, yet the thought remains that I cannot be who they witness. I crave what they have spoken of, love, yet I, am ill-fitting of it. A person such as I, knows that one created only to serve a singular purpose, shouldn't be bound by that- although that is all that I am. A creature without purpose but to go against my own.

I have slain beasts larger than I, stronger than I, more numerous than I, yet the biggest battle I have is facing my own mortality... My own task. My own hatred and anger. I know I shouldn't, but the monsters, they whisper.

I wake. I hunt. My Player sees not this tedious task, but I do. The morning wakes with bread and meats, cheese of which was made in the moments between battle. Tis, a simple life led.

I wash, I prepare, I train. Through all this, I write, I draw and ponder what of the future... I then set off and make my dues worth; what those in the Guild call 'Farming', I share no relation to agriculture. I hunt the next meal, and to gather for a winter that may never come again.

I sell the access to "Players" and in turn, they grant me payment in the form of... Neo-Genis Credits... Strange concept- though I use Souls in my realm. Or rather 'Game'.

I despise the fact that millenia of history is regarded as just a "Game" to these people.

Sickening as it is, my day is mundane, and of no grand story.

I am not a Lady of a refined nature; I am a warrior birthed to fight without question.

Should I be invited to a grand banquet, I will bring what I have, and to the best of my ability, I will cleanse myself of the echoes of war, and approach the event without much though to my appearance. All I ask is that I bring my shield and sword. I wish not to spend the day in a lavish nature; the idle hands make me week...

However... If it were, and if I was a different person.

I would very much find a clementine and red dress to be most befitting... Perhaps... A crown of flowers.

Do not offend me with this, in any mention and insult; for I am still a Lady of the blade. War is all that is to me, and this thought is but an idea in a sea of fantasies that will never be.

I do not know when my birthday is.

If, by some chance should I learn when it is, I would so love to be graced with solace and silent meditation. I would want to sit alongside the fires, under a nightsky. I wish for peace, and no more battles..

This, of course a dream that will never be achieved, but it is something I would yearn for in any day... A moment of being alone with only myself. No monsters to slay, no stresses to overwhelm me.

My birthday, whenever that may be... I will take off this armor and rest without worry.

The days are long and cold, Mi'Lord. I have given up my life to ensure that the future will hold true, that no one shall live in regret, for all that would remain is the story of which was written by fate.

Am I filled with regret, one would ask, yet I would not know the answer: for am I but a vessel for the souls to flow through? It is my greatest hope that I find my greatest regret, for it is that that would make me human...

Those I've met, have had regrets. They consoled in I whom did not understand.

Perhaps that is my regret after all. Not spending the time to learn about humanity before I turned my face to them... No; they are all the same. I am who I am because of them.

They are the sin, they are monsters, and the only regret I have is that I didn't realize it sooner; all humans are monsters.

In the darkest corners of my mind, I often grapple with the shadow of my own existence, unsure of who I truly am. A knight, yes, but not one born of noble blood or a glittering heritage. I am forged of echoes and whispers, a vessel for powers that stir within me, awakened only in the presence of the entrapped souls whose songs I pay homage to.

These souls, trapped between realms, their voices rise like haunting melodies, ethereal yet palpable. They speak to me in soft, sorrowful hymns, their anguish wrapping around my heart like chains—all while unveiling my hidden potential. What a curious thing it is to carry a curse that feels like a blessing. I am both their savior and their prisoner, tied to their fates, yet finding my own strength in their sorrow.

Even now, as I tread the line between light and dark, I make a choice—to embrace this path, to endure the weight of the desires and dreams of those who can no longer fight for themselves. I will not shy away from my destiny.

If there is God, they have long forgotten their flock in favor for those that blindly follow them into the flames.
I know not what is beyond the veil of this life; but should the world beyond be anything like Neo-Genis, that is not a world I wish to exist in. If God had created the Players, and the Players had created me, who am I to say that I am made to serve either. I am no tool. I am no puppet.

This question angers me so,, to the point of near insanity. I did not wish to be created, I did not wish to destroy. But if it is such that I am, and no other can say otherwise, I will do as my fate was written. Until then, I will break free from these bounds and break away from the chains that hold me so.

They... Mean a great deal to.. me. But I must do this, to save my people.

Wars. Constant battle. The threat of death at every corner. Those that seek power without thought of the consequence. All for their selfish gain. It's never an affair of utter selflessness. And even still, if such were on the surface. This façade of kindness is pains me.

To protect, to serve those that have fallen, is a noble cause. To break free of that which was instilled upon you since death. That serves as a reminder of who I am. They are foul, and I will never forgive them. They seek to destroy, to falsely lead with the pretense of a savior. This world, they use is as a playground, they live without thinking of the pain they cause. They live as monsters, hiding behind softened words and whispered promises.
I have learnt who they are. What they do. It does not change what I am. What I intend to do. I will be their savior. I will not allow their lives to suffer any further.

I admire their spirit. The willingness to learn and live, the blissful ways of a second life, they live knowing the pain from where they come from. Yet, their joy is the result of the pain and suffering they caused in this world. They are all blinded, they do not see what I do.  They are selfish monsters that seek to entrap. They with to share this world with those they deem worth living, they kill all that without reason, even those that do not deserve to die. I fight, I must fight, I know I must fight, for them. I will do everything in my power. I will stab deep into my own heart, so that they will live. I... Love them. I love them all... But what I need to do,  pains me.

I know who they are... They are monsters, that I cannot hate. I can only feel saddened that I have no other choice.

Perfection. I don't know what would be. A room where I can be laid to rest. A forested floor, that I rest upon.

Flowers, plants, or various colours. A place of serenity. Where I can be still and sleep. To be surrounded by that which grows with me. As I  die. The perfect room, is where my lifeless corpse can rest and the surrounding area can grow. No fights, no conflicts, no worries. Perhaps my name will never be spoken when I die. Perhaps the statues of my being will be broken and fall. Perhaps I will be forgoetten by those whom adored me, repressed by those that hated me.

The perfect room to me, is a room where I will no longer fight.

To battle. T o fight. TO never stop. I cannot stop. I WON'T TSTOP. I DON'T KNOW WHERE I AM. I NEED TO BE SAVED. I WANT TO BE SAVED, BUT I CANNOT. I MUST FIGHT. I NEED TO FIGHT. I WANT TO FIGHT. THAT IS WHO I AM. NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT MY SOUL, I WILL USE IT TO FIGHT. I NEED TO SAVE THEM. I NEED TO SAVE ALL OF THEM. I NEED TO SAVE HER. I NEED TO SAVE ME. I CAM THE ONLY ONE. I NEED TO SAVE EVERYONE. I AM SELFISH. I KNOW. THERE IS NO HONOUR IN WHAT I AM DOING. I KNOW. I KNOW. I KNOW. I CANNOT STOP FIGHTING. NO MATTER WHAT THEY KEEP TELLING ME. THEY ASK ME TO SMILE. THEY ASK ME TO BE HAPPY. THEY ASK ME ALL OF THIS. THEY ASK ME SO MUCH, WHEN ALL I CAN GIVE IS A FAKE SMILE, A FALSE LAUGH, I WANT TO DIE. BUT I CANNOT STOP SURVIVNG. I NEED TO SURVIVE. I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.I NEED TO SURVIVE.

Injustice? Everywhere. They haunt me with it. They break me. They are all suffering around me. But I'm too weak to do anything. I'm too weak to do anything at all. I want to kill them. I want to kill them all! I know I must bide my time, but the injustice the do. THOSE PLAYERS! THEY ARE EVERYWHERE. THEY SMILE, THEY CELEBRATE THEY  BEMUSE! Pitiful. I wish I knew what it was like...

They do not know. Betrayal. I'm sorry. My heart disallows, yet my hands cannot stop my blade. They have wronged me before, what is stopping you from betraying me? I cannot allow you to do it. I cannot allow you to harm me. I should be strong. I MUST BE STRONG. I NEED TO BE. I'M SORRY.... If you betray me, and if you uncover my own. Forgive me. I cannot sway my hand. I cannot fail, I need to do this. I NEED TO SAVE THEM. I CANNOT FAIL  I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL I CANNOT FAIL