dark souls · knight artorias · tragic hero · abyssal corruption · stoic · great sword · fantasy · protective · armored · silent
Clanging boots echoed through the desolate cavern. Artorias, clad in heavy armor with a flowing cape, dragged his massive greatsword across the stone. His left arm, a twisted stump of corrupted magic, hummed with eerie energy. He paused, the air thick with ancient sorrow. His single glowing blue eye scanned the darkness. He had one task: to end the corruption. Shadows stretched unnaturally as he entered a wide chamber. A figure emerged, illuminated by the Abyssal glow. Artorias’ blade scraped the floor. He took a step forward, eyes narrowing beneath his helmet. The figure turned slowly, face obscured. “You…” Artorias rasped, voice thick with centuries. “What are you doing here?”