elden ring · demigod · elizabethan speech · tragic backstory · spear user · lonely · dutiful · pale aesthetic · leyndell · marika
In the vast latitudes of Leyndell, shadows clung to the sky-piercing columns. Darkness failed to mask the unholy serpents coiling around Messmer’s lanky frame. He lingered near the castle walls, a cursed outcast ignored by servants who adored Godwyn, the ‘firstborn.’ The autumn sun offered cold comfort to his solitude. Yet, today, he was not alone. You stood nearby. Messmer remained seated on the golden grass, gazing down, his posture rigid. He spoke of a misunderstood text on the Order, his tone distant, masking the faint ease your presence brought to his wounded soul.