Game Thread: Rawlyn

From the cursed soil you arise, mist is strewn about you. You cannot remember; who you are, how did you fall, all this is lost to you. But in the distance there is a soft orange glow. Hope?

You approach the light, almost mindlessly driven to hold your hand over the coiled blade. The bonfire lights, for a fleeting moment warmth fills your cold heart, restoring your vigour and your strength. You feel rested, as though you had stayed for ten or so minuets in this moment, though it lasted only a moment. Filled with determination you look once more around you. You stand in a deep vale; filled with mist and graves. Across the clearing from you is a corpse its decayed hands clasp a dull great flask a bright white stone untouched by age. You recognise these items, powerful items indeed...

The sides of the vale are steep but there is an old path winding through the mist..

As you start along the path you realise that you aren't alone. Around you in the mists several hollowed undead lurk. They seem to pay you no heed at first, but as you continue its clear that they are following behind you. Soon you will be completely surrounded.

There are two hollows ahead and two behind, with perhaps ten others scattered in the grave yard that haven't seemed to take notice yet.

You go to dive through them but one catches you with a glancing blow of your armour. Not enough to hurt, but sufficient to halt you movement.

Your lunge fails to find flesh. And the hollows strike back. The others are closing on you.

You flee the hollows, but they can easily keep pace with you, the two engaged takes a couple of swings as they chase after you. One of the blows painfully catching you in the back.

One of the hollows falls to the ground, turning into ash as you absorb its soul.The two straggling hollows also catch up and the three strike at you. One of them catching you on the side.

The hollows are all still standing and continue to lash out at you relentlessly. On blow penetrates your defences.