Game Thread: Falsar

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..

Stepping to the other side of the bonfires light you pick up the objects. The dull green flask responds to your presence and that of the bonfire filling with glowing golden energy.

Estus Flask. The undead treasure these dull green flasks, which promise survival in a land dominated by death. Estus flasks provide swift healing, and are replenished at bonfires. You have a number of estus flasks equal to half your level, rounded up. You can drink an estus flask as a bonus action, which restores hit points equal to 1d6 + your Constitution modifier. All empty estus flasks restore when you rest at a bonfire.

As you walk 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.

Two hollows converge onto the path, another two break into a run in an attempt to catch you up.

The hollows that have been drawn to your are essentially unarmed, with a mottle collection of bare fists, sticks, stones and a broken sword hilt.

Your flurry of strikes fell one of the hollows. The other near to it attempts to strike at you but instead stumbles through your illusion dissipating it while the others close on you.

Your flurry of blows stagger the hollow but it continues its assault. Those approaching you from behind joining the fray.

The blow of your quarter staff fells a second hollow, just as from the first the whisky white essence of its souk is absorbed by you. Your original target felled your unarmed strike hits another hollow. The remaining hollies strike out against you mindlessly seeking your destruction all land blows against you.

The hollow hurt before and another hollow drop to the ground in a stupor, the remaining hollow still attempts to strike at you but misses.

With your rapid succession of strike this hollow falls, and you absorb it's soul.With the foes who had approached you ash or incapacitated you cast your eye around you, there are still hollows about but you would likely need to depart the path to attract their attention. The path winds up from here, towards the entrance to the valley where the sheer cliffs press in close to the path.