To The Inner Castle

Rested close to the small bonfire in the ruin shrine. Art had recovered the arm he had loss, and working perfectly was an reanimated arm. It functions the same, whenever an Undead dies. Reborn, and reanimated. Without further needs to linger any longer, the Unkindled rose from his seat of the dirtied floor. He brushed the dust, and stains that mark his clothes. "Leaving so soon?" Karla asked, with a hint of asking something else. "Yes, I have been idle for too long. And my duty would not have it."

The question posed by the child of the abyss, arose a reminder. 'Ah, Yorshka. How long has it been?' Unable to count the days and time since he departed, he shrugged the idea and decided on his will to pay a visit to the Captain. Excusing himself, he walks past her side but halt when she spoke.

"There is one thing you should know.

There is a darkness within man, and I am afraid you will peer into it

Sat close, to the flaming bonfire in the ruin shrine. Art had enough rest, to that the reanimated arm is done. Brand new, and reborn, the Undead rose from his seat on the rugged floor, and stood tall. Brushing off the dirt and dust that stained his clothes, his attention was soon called elsewhere. "Leaving so soon?" The simple phrase reminded the Unkindled of a maiden on a prisoned tower. 'How long has it been since I paid a visit?' Recollecting his thoughts, he met with the person who posed the question.

"Yes, idle I have been. My duty would not have it as such." The child of the abyss, Karla frowned at the answer. But gave a speech, when she offered eyes of what appeared to be hopes to be connected to the Undead. Sympathetic, she aims.

"There is one thing that you should know.

There is a darkness within man, and I am afraid you will peer into it.

Whether the fear will spark self-reflection, or a ruinous nostalgia...

...is up to you entirely."

Silence fell, and none of the two moved to speak or walk away. "'Whether the fear will spark self-reflection, or a ruinous nostalgia..' Those are awful choices, don't you think?" Leaving it as that, the Undead hover his hands over the bonfire and vanished. Fixed in her spot, she remains watching the crackle sound of the bonfire. 'It is indeed, awful choices.'

Traveling to the bonfire of whence the Dancer succumb to its death, Art looked around to see everything turned back to its original state. Before the fire spread, and the ceilings fell. In his inventory, he still held onto the soul of the Dancer, not having decided on what to do with it. 'Well then. Let's go meet whatever is waiting for us in the inner castle.'

'This should be fun.'

Easily persuaded by his thoughts and instinctive nature, Art shook himself from its influence. 'Truly, what is it that makes me turn into a hunger-pang hunter?' 'Is it the feeling of slicing through flesh, or just the thought of thrill. No matter, light will shed onto this through time.' Up the ladder, to a newfound area, Art took a look. Before setting eyes on a Lothric knight that appeared to be alone. With muffled steps turned into silence, he took tiny steps before charging in.

Alerted by his presence, the knight turned and blocked in the nick of time. But what the Undead had failed to notice, was a caster at the side. Enhanced, with strength and stamina, it proved difficult to defeat. 'Fine, you want to be killed so badly you could have just asked.' With a feint, he slid through past the knight and strike for the mage. Dagger thrust deeply, and with the momentum, he was abled to lift the magic caster up the air for a brief second and back down to deal a killing blow.

As it was just a creature. Not a man or being with a mind of its own, it didn't fear to charge in head to head with the Undead. But surprisingly, it simply waited, before two sets of knight appeared forth from the staircase he needed to go. A knight with a shield and spear, and a knight which wields a sword and shield. 'I can sense a mage somewhere.. perhaps hiding in fear..' A smile broke out, within his mask. "Better keep em' alive or you're next."

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