I am the Gravelord Servant.

by Ssendam the Masked

Dreams and tribulation

The walls that surrounded me were made of dark stone, dripping with water. I saw a lot of yellow and brown lichen crawling down the walls, and there were roots sprouting out as well.

How interesting.

Once I looked around and saw the rusty iron gate, separating me from the dark halls outside, I observed my environment, and made a couple of logical deductions about my new home. This place was intensely familiar to me — it was the cell that the Chosen Undead first escaped in Dark Souls.

Let's see... I last remember fainting, after... after...
Oh God.

I fell on my pelvis and drew my knees up, hugging them as I rocked back and forth, keening.

I killed today.

Had I a throat, or had I been alive at all, I would have undoubtedly vomited. As it were, I just started laughing, out of nervousness and sickness at what I'd done. Sure, the Leo's death had dulled, but it was replaced with the image of Stalwart Hoof's grimacing face, floating before my eyes, literally. That was all I needed to tell me that this was a dream. Not that I was interested on that little detail, so focused was I on grief.

It felt strange, mourning the loss of life from self-defense, but it is true; no amount of killing in video games could prepare you for looking at the loss of life in those eyes. I saw those eyes lose their spark, becoming dull and glassy. Those eyes now stared out at me from the walls, creeping in. I didn't care. I just sat there, hoping for punishment. It wouldn't reverse my mistake, my murder, but it would make me feel better. Maybe it would make those 'Reverent Dawn' types get some satisfaction, seeing my destroyed corpse.

"Pray tell, what manner of man art thou?"

I looked up sharply. Standing next to me, looking faintly confused and horrified, was a pony that every brony knew well. Dark indigo fur, and a long, flowing, blue mane, dotted with stars. Those blue eyes stared at me with pity and mercy. I turned away.

"Go away, princess. While I do respect you, right now I just want to be alone."

For answer, she appeared in front of me.

"No. Normally, I would not even think of interfering with you, but the despair that you're feeling is leeching out into the land of dreams."

Luna sounded guarded, watching my every move like a cat. A very cautious pony.

"Just leave me alone. Please. I don't deserve this audience. You shouldn't be talking to a killer."

She didn't respond; rather, she gently poked the walls, looking at them curiously.

"Pray tell, where is this?"

My own voice answered for me, which was a surprise. "This is the Undead Asylum, in Anor Londor. It's the starting area of Dark Souls. It's where I belong, an asylum."

Princess Luna sighed. "While I may not know what this cell is, I do know what it means for you. This is a sign of repression. It's unhealthy, Lazarus."

I turned my skull so fast that it almost snapped clean off. "How did you know my name?"

Luna poked the walls. "Lazarus, before now you were flitting through your memories. I couldn't help but see and hear a few things."

I gripped my legs until they creaked. "You had no right!" It came out in a hiss, and she retreated.

"Yes, I had no right. But in dreams, it is often hard to stop yourself."

I slouched, moodily. "Trust issues, loner tendencies, good personal skills but have a tendency to not want to get too close, possibly holdover from 1000 years ago." If she wanted to know my name and how much else she overheard, then I was going to reveal my deductions.

"That's not exactly surprising, considering your probably being one of those 'brony' types." Her voice is faltering a bit, and I can see some tears in the corners of her eyes starting to form. Good.

I stood up to my full height. "No. I made all of those by looking at you while in this cell. First, trust issues. You're standing back from me at a significant distance, probably don't realise that you're doing it. Now, caution is all very well and good, but I've noticed that you always have at least one eye on me at all times, which is good considering that I didn't know that I could kill today. Second, loner tendencies. Again, I can deduce this from your stance. You're very guarded, a bit too guarded. Plus, you probably developed them through this dreamwalking. I'm guessing that only you and probably your sister can travel through this space, and I think that'd be enough to make anybody a loner."

Princess Luna raised a hoof, but I continued. "The good personal skills come from your topics of conversation. You're aware that I have a severe problem, but you don't make anything of it, because that would trigger a relapse. So, you talk about the cell, an indirect way of trying to help me. However, you don't want to get too close to me, like a psychiatrist. Now, if there's anything that I know about classical royalty and what was shown on the show, the royal family were typically revered as gods, in fact, today you still are. Thus, it was probably drilled into your head to not get too close to the public. That kind of mental conditioning is-"

"ENOUGH!"

The yell tore through me. I clapped my hands to where my ears were, trying to deaden the sound. Something in me told me to bow, but I stood my ground. It was at this point that I noticed and cared that she was close to crying. My shoulders drooped, and I collapsed to the ground, leaning against a wall. "Sorry. I haven't had a very good day. I'm so sorry."

She didn't answer for a time, just breathing. Then, she looked at me with a frown, eyes narrowed. "Save thy apologies, Lazarus. Thou strike at us with words, don't you? Well, I can plainly see that you don't need help." She turned to leave.

I jumped up and ran over. "NO! Please... please don't go. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Luna stopped and turned to me. "My visit was never intended to be long, Lazarus. I do accept your apology, and I understand. But I cannot stay. Tis against the rules."

Something inside me snapped. I whipped around, punching the wall. "WHAT RULES?! Jesus, how! MANY! RULES! DO YOU HAVE OR NEED?! I'm SICK, TO DEATH of gods not explaining things to us mortals, like we're toys that just DON'T UNDERSTAND! It's like being children- 'I'm sorry, son, but you'll understand when you get older.' I'm just SICK OF IT!" After that venting of rage, I screamed and kicked the wall.

Luna just stared at me with fear and wariness. "You don't trust the gods much, do you? That's understandable. Lazarus, I can't help you here. Meet me in the real world." She turned to leave, but paused. "Lazarus, a word of warning. I know that you probably won't, but I say this anyway: kill any pony on Equestrian soil, and we will hunt you down."

I nodded. "I won't. Luna... I'm sorry about that outburst. I really am."

She turned away. "Don't be sorry. It's understandable; mortals have a tendency to rage against us. But you must repress that rage. It will only kill you. Some gods might take offence." With that, she was gone. I sank back down, face in hands. I'd probably driven away one of my only allies. With nothing else to do, I watched the wall, not wanting to think.

I'm not sure how long I sat in that cell. Hours? Days? I had no idea. The wall was interesting— signs suggested that it had been underwater (pattern of lichen on the wall and wear of rock) and I didn't want to do anything but stare at the wall. Thinking about things other than the wall wasn't what I considered a good time.

Suddenly, my old human body fell from the ceiling. I scrambled away from it. A familiar, chilling voice sounded from above. "Hello, Bernard. Or should I call you Lazarus?"

I scowled. Oh, but I didn't have a face to scowl with. I resorted to staring upwards in a simmering rage. "Nito. What do you want, throwing my body down here?"

Gravelord Nito rubbed a bony chin. "You've despaired over your first kill, but it's time to leave. The key's on the body. Oh, and your sword is there as well."

I looked at my body. It did, indeed, have the Gravelord Servant sword clutched in its hand. I had a question for him. "Nito."

There was no way in hell that I was going to call him 'master.' "How will I recharge your Miracle?"

Nito waved a hand. "My Miracles rely not on your faith, but on your intelligence. But it is drawn from a divine mana, the likes of which only someone with a powerful soul like yours can really draw on. Your divine mana is different from your normal mana; they do not interact normally. Recharge your Miracle by praying in the dead of night. One more thing: due to the rules of the game, the more humans you kill, the more powerful your Miracle gets. Crush their eyes in service to me. Kill a lot of humans, and I shall reward you even further than what my Miracle will allow."

I turned away from him. "I'm not killing any humans."

Gravelord Nito let off a chuckle that was underscored by a faint screaming. "Oh, but they WILL try to kill you. Many are self-righteous, believing themselves the protectors of the realm. Others are psychopaths, who pervert the spirit of warriors. You will have to kill them; it is only an advantage."

I shook my head, turning to my old body. "You know, I'm not going to take your word for it. I will do this game in my own way, Gravelord."

I tore the key away from my corpse and gripped the sword. "...I do agree with you on one thing, though."

"And that is?"

I shoved the key into the door. "I need to get over myself."

The door swung open, and I continued along the corridor.

==--------==

I'd travelled through the halls for a little bit, avoiding arrow traps, and mercy-killing any Hollows that I saw. I was making my way towards a familiar destination, and I wasn't sure whether or not I would actually have to do this or not.

As I advanced, I reflected what experiences that I was having. How ironic: Nito, who has a good reason to be a really nasty and cryptic god, was the one who helped me out of my depression. The entire experience was exactly how I remembered it from the game, only I could feel the occasional drip of water on my skull, and smell the foul stench of rotting corpses. The Hollows surrounding me tried to attack, but I stabbed them, weaving through their clumsy sword blows. They barely put a scratch on me. Oscar of Astora, who gave me the Estus flask in the original game, lifted his head wearily towards me. "Good luck." I walked past him, barely pausing.

When I reached the door leading to the Asylum Demon, I paused. I looked at my sword hand. It was shaking, just enough to be noticeable. Whether it was out of excitement, fear, or both, I do not really know. I gripped my sword in both hands and pushed the door in.

The Asylum Demon waited for me. A twenty feet tall titan, coloured a pale greenish-grey, with long horns and a huge gut, coupled with a pair of surprisingly tiny legs. Now that I was here, I noticed that it stank of sweat, dirt and shit. It gripped its huge mace and jumped at me, huge gut wobbling like a jelly. I rolled out of the way, and as it tried to turn around, I decided to do the second thing that many Dark Souls players do in this kind of situation- I stabbed it in the ass, eliciting a pained scream and an attempt to pound me into the floor with its massive hammer; luckily, I guessed something like that would happen and I barely avoided being squashed underneath its gigantic maul. While blood poured from its lacerated rectum, I sprinted for the other door. I wanted to get the drop on it; literally in this case.

I ran, robe flapping behind me. Hollow soldiers tried to attack, but the Gravelord Servant sword flashed, cutting through their armour and returning them to something approaching an afterlife. Eventually, I reached the top of the staircase, and I walked through the white light. The Asylum demon was waiting for me. Before it could react, I jumped down, and as I fell, I used its grotesque body as a pincushion for my sword. It roared feebly, trying to get away, while the magic that pulsed through my sword manifesting in blackened patches of flesh, which had spread a fair bit from its buttocks and the stab wound I'd inflicted on its chest. I raised my sword, intent on finishing it off-

And halted. I looked at the huge beast. When I'd played the game for the first time, I'd almost been killed by this thing. In fact, I'd died when I still thought the game was where you could just charge in and beat your enemies to a pulp with your bare hands. It had jumped on me, and I'd dropped the controller in shock as the 'YOU DIED' message flashed on my screen. This was a dream; there were no repercussions. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to kill this thing. I let my sword sag down. The demon seemed to be confused by this mercy. It tried to lift the mace again, trying to kill me, but I stabbed its arm, withdrawing the blade, while its foul black blood seeping from the wound, pooling on the ground around it. The demon made a keening sound and clutched at its wounded arm.

Looking at its wounded arm, I just felt tired. "Look, I'm willing to spare you if you give me the key." The huge demon appeared to think about this, weighing its options. I lifted my Gravelord Servant sword, and it seemed to take the hint. Pulling the key out of... its buttocks (was that really where it was the entire time?), it threw it at me. I nodded at the huge demon, carefully walking towards the door, never once turning my back on the wounded beast. Just because I want to be merciful doesn't mean that I'm stupid.

"Thank you." The huge demon muttered something in its incomprehensible speech and slunk away, huge maul in hand. I shrugged. I put the key in the lock, and pushed the doors open.

==------==

When I woke up, it was to the unusual feeling of having a sword at my throat. As if disbelieving of my situation, my eyesockets focused on the glowing, crystalline face that held the simple broadsword in its mouth for about a second. Then, I snapped into analysing the situation. It's a useful ability to have, possessing a damn near Sherlock Holmes intellect and analytical skills. They're good skills to develop if you're a waiter, actor or doctor; and since I was the first two, I've had a lot of time to analyse people and how they act.

First, grip sword and thrust away while delivering kick to midsection to wind. Capitulate on development to draw sword, block reckless swing. After that, advance, step within sword range, and when he automatically retreats, sucker punch between the eyes. Transition to low stance, and tackle. Once off balance, backhand, getting him to drop the sword. Finally, hold own sword at his throat. Overall, situation reversed, him confused. Bonus for all parties involved.

Surprising him by gripping his sword blade, I pushed it away from myself, keeping the movement going by swinging a bony leg up, I was rewarded with a satisfying 'oof' sound. Pushing him away, I rolled towards my sword, bringing it up to parry the swing from the left. I then moved into his range, and when he retreated so that he could swing the sword again, I hit him in the face. Then, I tackled him. I might not weigh all that much, but I could move fast enough and hit hard enough to stagger him. My left hand came up, hitting him in the side of the head, causing his mouth to open, releasing the sword. I then pinned him down with my own sword at his throat.

"Who are you?" He weakly struggled, obviously confused by the sudden turn of events. Looking at him, I could see that he was a crystal pony, a very pale amber colour. Absently, I looked him over to see what I could glean.

Let's see. Steel armour, practical, not flashy, well-maintained. White surcoat, bit dirty, no emblem. Helmet made of steel with intricate designs, which means that he bought it in the Crystal Empire. Sword, simple, not ostentatious but practical, definitely enchanted if he thought that it could hurt me. Shield is plain white, stained with mud. Thus, not a formal knight, and has no nobility in family. Hedge knight or paladin then. Paladin most likely, given general theme of white and enchanted sword. Muscles well-developed, but fairly lean, and he's got a bit of a gut to him. Build of a soldier then, not a sportsman or a weightlifter.

"Great. More paladins."

The pony beneath me stopped struggling and looked at me confusedly. "Sorry, what?"

Lower-class English accent.
...
Great. And given his inexpert sword swings...

I got off of him and let him up. Well, I was hilariously wrong about everything. "Let me guess: you're a farmer."

The crystal pony seemed a bit confused, but at least he didn't immediately run away. Instead, he nodded. I facepalmed.

"Your weapon isn't enchanted, and you don't know how to use it."

He nodded again and I sagged. I was going to need to work on my deductive skills. The pony hesitantly extended a hoof. "Name's Gold Sheen. You're not going to hold that weird sword near me again?" He looked fairly nervous; couldn't really fault him. I gripped his extended forehoof and shook it gently.

"Name's Lazarus. Know anything about this place?"

Sheen shook his head. "Nope. Well, I know that it was rumoured to have this creepy undead city in the middle of it somewhere, but I wouldn't go in that direction."

Something was off about this situation. Then, it hit me.

Where was the body of Stalwart Hoof?

Trying to keep my voice level, I decided to enquire. "So, was there anything else here when you arrived?"

Gold tapped a hoof on his chin. "Nope, although I did see a manticore run off with a pony in its grip."

How strangely convenient. "Listen, do you have a compass at all? Or a spare map?"

Either one of those would help my journey immensely. He shook his head. "Sorry, but I've only got one."

"Fair enough. What brings you out here, anyway?"

Gold Sheen got a faraway look in his eyes. "Ah, you see, everything's changed. Speech, technology- did you know that there are these things called 'trains,' that can carry you across the full reach of Equestria in mere days?"

I made an appreciative noise as he continued. "I want to see everything that this world has to offer. So, I saved up all of my money, and here I am, exploring."

I thumbed him up. "Well, I hate to keep you from adventure. I don't know this place all that well myself. Good luck."

==---------==

We parted on fairly good terms, I think. I walked off, waving him goodbye. Today was not a bad day, all things considered. The sun was rising, rosy-fingered Dawn awakening. Everything seemed to be a bit better.

"Excuse me, but I'm in a bit of a bother, my good sir. Would you mind helping me out of this?" I turned, and briefly stared.

A zombie pegasus grinned at me awkwardly from his position on the ground. Scruffy dirty brown mane, with large, green eyes, and a dull blue pelt, which was rotted away in some places, exposing browning tissue. His left hind-hoof had apparently come off. He looked at it distractedly. "Yes, it is a bit of a bother. Mind giving me a hoof- sorry, I mean hand?"

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. After about five seconds, I gripped the hoof and held it in position.

"Excellent. Now, I've got a needle and thread here. How good are you at stitching?"

As I started reattaching his hoof, he took to talking. "You're probably wondering why my hoof is detached. Well, that's a simple story to tell you, my bony friend. You see, I like to fly. Even when I'm decaying, I love to fly. So, naturally, I decided to take a little jaunt in this section of the woods. But, well, you know hooves. Silly buggers, always falling off in high velocity winds. Now, normally it isn't a problem- I usually wear boots to keep my hooves attached to my legs. However, I'd forgotten them, so I've been here for a long time! I'm lucky that the paladins didn't see me; I covered myself in leaves and hoped that they wouldn't look to closely."

I finished my clumsy attempt. He looked it over. "Well, I can walk on this, I think."

He extended a forehoof, which I took gingerly. "Name's Wind Brace. What's yours?"

Well, Wind Brace seemed friendly enough. "Lazarus Bane."

He grinned. "Lazarus, eh? Good name. Good name."

I cut to the chase. "Look, Mr Wind Brace-

"Look, you can just call me Wind. None of this formal stuff with me."

"Alright, Wind. I'm new around here."

True.

"I don't know my way around here. Where did you come from?"\

Wind grinned. "Necro City, of course. Alright, since you did reattach my hoof, I'll show you the way. Tartarus, I would have shown you the way even if you hadn't! Although it would be a bit awkward, with you carrying me around."

I had to agree with him there. However, I did know that I needed some sense of bearings, and somebody friendly enough to teach me how to use this sword. "Excellent. Then let us move."

We were about to leave, when I spied the remains of the Leo. I paused, reluctant to leave everything here. Wind Brace looked over and nodded. "Yep, you must've been one hell of a lucky bastard to even kill the Leo. Thing's practically invulnerable, 'cept for its mouth and eyes. You kill it, you keep the remains. We're gonna have a hell of a time getting it back to Necro City though. Need a hoof- or, rather, hand? I think that I owe you one."

I nodded. "No, you don't. I did a piss-poor job of sewing your hoof back on. Still, help is appreciated."

==----------==

Eventually, we were good to go. Thanks to his ingenuity, we had gathered up all of the fur, bundled it up, and wrapped the bones in it. I hoisted the vast majority over my back, while he carried the smaller joints and claws. "Ready to leave, old chap?"

"As I ever will be."

Comments

[Prof_Omnom]

So, this story is good, I like it, but you really lost me near the beginning of the Luna scene.
I mean, picking apart a god, and then begging them to stay and talk after she gets upset. That's just to much for me.

Still watching, but a bit disappointed.

[Princess Cadence]

4090398

[rikusorasephiroth]

i know I should write something witty or sarcastic, but I honestly don't have something that fits what happened in this chapter.
I might find something in a book, but I can't be bothered looking for one with an approproate line.

[oldtimeydude]

Kinda fast paced. Bit too much so I can't appreciate the story.

[Cloverman The Purple]

All I want is a black phantom Sentinel appearing and killing a mess of paladins. All while this is playing.

[Ssendam the Masked]

4100297
Fair enough bro.

I feel bad for disappointing people. That wasn't what I'd intended. I'll work hard to regain your interest.

Still, thank you for criticising my characterisation. I appreciate it, I actually do.

[matangadijolachanga]

Your first chapter was better.

[Ninjahzzzz]

,,,,Im torn,I love this story so far,But im also a Sunbro.......And ill say it again,He can just put his legs together the other way to get back to how he's used to.....And be able to wear standard armor

[NotABrony]

damn good... I loved every bit of it....

[Silvernight]

5th to last paragraph. learn to sue the greavelord greatsword

[Ssendam the Masked]

4103065
It is a good idea. His sword did cut him in line to the Taco Bell.

[Carnival Hex]

"Pulling the key out of... its buttocks"
I laughed at that, right there!

[Ssendam the Masked]

4103712
It's always good to know that I can draw a chuckle from people. Laughter is what I subsisted on originally.

[Vaalintine]

I have to say, this isn't as good as the first chapter. Sometimes things are all "wait, when did that get there? Dont remember that." It could use a little more work.

[King Trollestia]

Favorited. I just hope he doesn't end up angsting over any more kills in the future.

[Ssendam the Masked]

4115177
Yeah.

Angst, like so many other things, is hard to write about, mainly because of its realism. He won't angst over any other kills, that's for sure.

[Ninjahzzzz]

4159245 Yes,Actually,I am,I am unable to take gaming to anything beyond a casual hobby,Despite how much of it I partake in.Same with reading

[ramseymac]

Gravelord...

How 'bout Gravemind?