Dark Souls 3 NPC dialogue

Ahh, you ignorant slaves. Finally taken notice, have you?
Of the power of my beloved Ocelotte, child of dragons.
Well, I will not give him up.
For he is all that I have.


Oh, dear brother...
I'm on my way...
My brother, unyielding sword of Lothric's Prince.
Rise, if you would.
...For that is our curse.
Oh dear, another dogged contender.
Welcome, Unkindled one, purloiner of cinders.
Mind you, the mantle of lord interests me none.
The fire-linking curse, the legacy of lords, let it all fade into nothing.
Ill-starred are they who take the throne. I shall not stand among them.
You've done quite enough, now have your rest.
The royal sword of Lothric shall grant you peace.


Shame on you, you greedy guts.
Shame on you, you insatiable wench.
Shame on you, you rotten cleric.
Shame on you, you rotten nun.
Thought you could outwit an onion?
Well, say hello to the nice giant! He adores visitors.


Ahh, Unkindled One.
The fire fades, and awaits its one last Lord.
Prince Lothric is in your hands...
Please, save his soul.


Yhorm, old friend.
I, Siegward of the Knights of Catarina, have come to uphold my promise!
Let the sun shine upon this Lord of Cinder.


Noble Lords of Cinder.
The fire fades...
...and the lords go without thrones.
Surrender your fires...
...to the true heir.
Let him grant death...
Let her grant death...
To the old gods of Lordran, deliverers of the First Flame.


Ahh, our gracious Lord...
Make Londor whole...
The First Flame quickly fades.
Darkness will shortly settle.
But one day, tiny flames will dance across the darkness.
Like embers, linked by lords past.
Ashen one, hearest thou my voice, still?
Ashen one, was it all a lie?
But why, ashen one...
Great lord of dark...


Yes, indeed.
It is called Lothric,
where the transitory lands of the Lords of Cinder converge.
In venturing north,
the pilgrims discover the truth of the old words.
"The fire fades,
When the link of fire is threatened, the bell tolls,
unearthing the old Lords of Cinder from their graves.
Aldrich, Saint of the Deep.
Farron's Undead Legion, the Abyss Watchers.
And the reclusive lord of the Profaned Capital,
Yhorm the Giant.
Only, in truth...
The Lords will abandon their thrones,
and the Unkindled will rise.
Nameless, accursed Undead, unfit even to be cinder.
And so it is.
That ash seeketh embers.


Welcome to the bonfire, Unkindled One.
I am a Fire Keeper.
I tend to the flame, and tend to thee.
The Lords have left their thrones, and must be deliver'd to them.
To this end, I am at thy side.
Welcome home, ashen one.
Speak thine heart's desire.
Very well.
Then touch the darkness within me.
Take nourishment from these sovereignless souls.
Let these souls, withdrawn from their vessels,
manifestations of disparity, elucidated by fire...
...burrow deep within me,
retreating to a darkness beyond the reach of flame.
Let them assume a new master, inhabiting ash,
casting themselves upon new forms.
An Unkindled slayer of lords; a Lord himself Unkindled.
An Unkindled slayer of lords; a Lord herself Unkindled.
Farewell, ashen one.
May the flames guide thee.
Farewell, ashen one.
Mayst thou thy peace discov'r.
Ashen one, to be unkindled is to be a vessel for souls.
Sovereignless souls will become thy strength.
I will show thee how.
Ashen one, bring me souls, plucked from their vessels...
Ashen one, may I pose thee a question?
Has the little Lord Ludleth spoken to thee of any...curious matters?
I sense that he possesseth some knowledge...
Of a thing once most precious, or most terrible, now lost to the Fire Keepers.
Pray tell, is it a matter of which I should be apprised?
Ashen one, my thanks for the eyes thou'st given.
But Fire Keepers are not meant to have eyes. It is forbidden.
These will reveal, through a sliver of light, frightful images of betrayal.
A world without fire.
Ashen one, is this truly thy wish?
Of course.
I serve thee, and will do as thou bid'st.
This will be our private affair. No one else may know of this.
Stay thy path, find lords to link the fire, and I will blindly tend to the flame.
Until the day of thy grand betrayal.
Ashen one, if thine heart should bend...
...kill me, and strip these eyes from my person.
I will return as the Fire Keeper I once was.
As it always has been.
Of course not.
Please, kill me, and take these eyes away.
Before I am drawn into the darkness.
Seduced by the thin light, and the awful betrayal...
Ashen one, kill me, and take these eyes away.
Before I am drawn into the darkness.
Seduced by the thin light, and the awful betrayal...
The five lords sit their five thrones.
All thanks to thee, most worthy of lords.
Ashen one, with the Lords as thy witness, bend thy knee afore the bonfire's coiled sword.
And let the Lords' embers acknowledge thee as their true heir.
A true lord, fit to link the fire.
Ashen one, with the Lords as thy witness, bend thy knee afore the bonfire's coiled sword.
And let the Lords' embers acknowledge thee as their true heir.
A true lord, fit to link the fire.
Noble Lords of Cinder.
The fire fades...
...and the lords go without thrones.
Surrender your fires...
...to the true heir.
Let him grant death...
Let her grant death...
To the old gods of Lordran, deliverers of the First Flame.
Ashen one, forgive me if this soundeth strange.
The eyes show a world without fire, a vast stretch of darkness.
But 'tis different to what is seen when stripped of vision.
In the far distance, I sense the presence of tiny flames.
Like precious embers, left to us by past Lords, linkers of the fire.
Could this be what draws me to this strangely enticing darkness?
Ashen one, link the fire.
For the Lords of Cinder, for the ashen prisoners,
for all those held to preserve the fire.
Link the First Flame.
Ashen one, may the flames guide thee.
Ashen one, if, when thou peerest upon the First Flame...
...Thou wishest yet, for a world without fire, for an end to the linking of the fire...
Then call upon me.
I am a Fire Keeper, and I tend to the flame, to the very end.
Thou'st given me eyes, and such it was they shewed me.
Mayst thou thy peace discov'r.
The First Flame quickly fades.
Darkness will shortly settle.
But one day, tiny flames will dance across the darkness.
Like embers, linked by lords past.
Ashen one, hearest thou my voice, still?





Ashen one, what is wrong?
Ashen one, was it all a lie?
But why, ashen one...
Great lord of dark...
I'm truly sorry.
But, know'st thou not? I cannot die.
So please, ashen one, allow me to serve thee.
The Lords have left their thrones, and must be delivered to them.
To this end, I am ever at thy side.
Ashen one.
Produce the coiled sword at the bonfire.
The mark of ash will guide thee to the land of the Lords.
To Lothric, where the homes of the Lords converge.
...Ashen one, are these...
...are these eyes?
How gracious of thee, ashen one.
The very things we Fire Keepers have been missing...
...Ashen one, this is...
...much like what lies within me...
Then let it find its own place, within my bosom.
She will understand. We are both Fire Keepers, after all.
Forgive me, sister.
May the flames guide thy way.
Oh, thou'rt unkindled, and a seeker of Lords.
I am Ludleth of Courland.
Look not in bewilderment as I say...I linked the fire long ago, becoming a Lord of Cinder.
If substantiation be thy want, set thine eyes upon my charred corse.
This sad cadav'r. No need to be coy, have a closer look.
(laugh)
Fret not, fret not, my feet are here firmly planted.
For I am a Lord, and this is my throne.
(laugh)
Ahh, beg pardon. I must have dozed a while.
Fret not, fret not, my feet are here firmly planted.
For I am a Lord, and this is my throne.
(laugh)
Ah-hah, thou'rt returned. And a fine day it is.
So, happened upon any twisted souls?
Ahh, beg pardon. I must have dozed a while.
So, happened upon any twisted souls?
Ahh, well met. All is as planned, is it not?
Five lords for five thrones...
Glory be, my Lord-slaying Champion. It is all thy doing.
The stage is set for me to play my part as Lord, too.
Go. Speak with the Fire Keeper.
She awaiteth thee.
...She hath waited a long time indeed...
(laugh)
Now, now, do not be away overlong.
(laugh)
Knowest thou of our purpose?
Five thrones will take five Lords, as kindling for the linking of the fire.
The fast-fading flame must be linked, to preserve this world.
A re-enactment of the first linking of the fire.
So it is I became a Lord of Cinder.
I may be but small, but I will die a colossus.
(laugh)
Listen, this might pique thine interest.
Before I was a Lord of Cinder, I was a student of transposition.
The process of extracting, and coalescing, the essence of a soul.
A forbidden art, that once left a foul stain upon Courland's honour.
Tis an art that grants powers once thought unattainable.
Most transposing kilns were lost with Courland, but this place is a crossing for all manner of cursed objects.
If thou happen'st 'pon a transposing kiln, bring it to me, quick.
(laugh)
Ahh, most illustrious Lordseeker. Or should I say, Lord-slayer?
Fine kindling for the thrones, is it not, each soul truly worthy of Lordship.
And all slain by thy hand. To bind them to their thrones, even in death.
Oh, I have no qualms. For as we are to our thrones, thou art to thy duty.
In fact, methinks thou'st helped these poor Lords along their rightful path.

(laugh)
Oh, belike it is...a transposing kiln in thy possession.
Seen better days, but, methinks it shall suffice.
Now, bring to me a twisted soul.
Transposition is the art of extracting, and coalescing, the essence of a soul.
In transposing a twisted soul, its true power transferreth to thee.
Thy purpose is to seek Lords, and slay them. What's to fear in a little transposition, now?
(laugh)
See ye not? I am a Lord...
A wee flame, belike, but I shoulder the world...
Forgive me. Oh, please...
I am not to blame, I'm not...
Ahh, it singeth, to the bone, it hurts...
Please, help me. Be done with me...
No, gods, no, I cannot bear it...
It burns, burns, help me...





Lord-slayer, do not fail us now...
Five Lords, for five thrones...
Ahh, found her, did we?
And the black eyes that shimmer within, I see?
Tis as if it were but yesterday.
We did all we could to spare her from them.
Much has happened since.
Mayhap I should apprise thee...
Of what the thin light of these eyes might reveal, to the eyeless Fire Keeper.
Scenes of betrayal, things never intended for her ken, visions of...
...this age's end...
(laugh)
Well well, what peculiar things thou keep'st on thy person...
Those I have seen before. Black eyes, if I am not mistaken?
Ahh, well met. Thou'rt at last returned.
Knowest thou the name, Anri of Astora?
The brave girl left this, as thanks.
The brave lad left this, as thanks.
Though gave no elucidation...
So. Happened upon any twisted souls?
Ahh, well met. All is as planned, is it not?
Five lords for five thrones...
To think others might ne'er be raised...
And I, of the Last Lords, a rather little lord, most undeserving of the honour.

Speak with the Fire Keeper.
She awaiteth thee.
...She hath waited a long time indeed...
Treat the Fire Keeper not with discourtesy.
She is much like thee. Prisoners, both, kept to link the fire.
(laugh)
I took the mantle of Lord of Cinder of mine own volition. I speak these words with pride.
Choose thy fate alone. Seize it with thine own hands.
All the more, should thy fate entail such foul betrayal...
(laugh)
Now, heed this little warning, from this little lord.
Seek not the girl.
Seek not the boy.
She knoweth her fate. What will become of her upon her duty's end.
She would not wish thee follow her.
(laugh)
He knoweth his fate. What will become of him upon his duty's end.
He would not wish thee follow him.
The eyes shew a world destitute of fire, a barren plane of endless darkness.
A place born of betrayal.
So I will'd myself Lord, to link the fire, to paint a new vision.
What is thine intent?
(laugh)
Ahh, thou'st two most peculiar swords discover'd.
A curse once bound them together, such that they served as one.
A transposing kiln should restore their rightful form.
But before thou should'st act, think well upon the matter.
As thou knowest, they are but newly rent apart.
...Oh, prithee...art thou good Yoel's master?
I am Yuria of Londor, a close friend of his.
Thanks to thee, Yoel's soul is redeem'd.
Allow me to express my gratitude, in his stead.
Another matter.
Thou'rt a Lord, art thou not?
Bearer of the dark sigil, and our Lord of Hollows.
For the time thou remain'st our Lord, we of Londor shall serve thee.
And I, of course, am also thine.
Speak thy desire,
honourable Lord of Hollows.
Ahh, our Lord and rightful Liege.
Speak freely, Thy Lordship. I am at thy beck and call.
Away to link the fire, I presume?
Think not on thy fears. The dark sigil will guide thee.
Link the fire, our Lord of Hollows.
Ahh, our Lord and Liege.
Thine heart is fix'd upon the linking of the fire.
But brave usurper, I prithee, wrest the flame from its mantle.
So that we Hollows, in most honest shape of man, may have it for our own.
Till we meet again.
May the dark sigil guide thee.
Be safe, our Lord and Liege.
I prithee wrest the flame from its mantle.
Link the fire, our Lord of Hollows.
Honourable usurper, I prithee wrest the flame from its mantle.
So that we Hollows, in most honest shape of man, may have it for our own.
Good Hollow, I prithee reflect on this knowledge.
On the nature of the Lord of Hollows.
The Lord of Hollows shall o'erthrow the linking of the fire.
The Age of Fire was founded by the old gods, sustained by the linking of the fire.
But the gods are no longer, and the all-powerful fire deserveth a new heir.
Our Lord of Hollows, perchance, who dons the true mask of mankind.
Oh, good Hollow. I'm afraid I must say...
Orbeck of Vinheim is a cause of much consternation.
He proclaimeth himself Lord of Hollows.
If left alone, he may one day imperil thy rule.
Fall to this matter yarely, else we are unraveled.
Decisiveness is the mark of a true monarch...
Orbeck of Vinheim is a cause of much consternation.
If left alone, he may one day imperil thy rule.
Fall to this matter yarely, else we are unraveled.
Our Lord and Liege.
Knowest thou of a maid named Anri?
Knowest thou of a youth named Anri?
She is Hollow, and will join thee in wedlock.
A fellow of mine guides her at this moment. When the time is ripe, thou mayst make thy salutations.
A fellow of mine guides him at this moment. When the time is ripe, thou mayst make thy salutations.
For what Lord taketh no spouse?
He is Hollow, and will join thee in wedlock.
Ahh, greetings, our Lord and Liege.
Good tidings. Thy spouse is ready.
The time is ripe to greet her.
The girl awaits thee, in the hidden darkmoon chamber of Anor Londo.
The boy awaits thee, in the hidden darkmoon chamber of Anor Londo.
So thou mayst a true monarch become.
The time is ripe to greet him.
Ahh, I see Orbeck's claim is proven false.
As it should be, our right and deserving Lord of Hollows.
It is a Londor treasure, befitting of a true Lord.
Lord of Hollows, may the dark sigil guide thy way.
Ahh, our Lord and Liege.
I presume thy holy vows are sworn?
Wonderful. Now thou'rt the true and deserving Lord of Hollows.
With a spouse, the strength to claim the fire is thine.
Thy Lordship, I prithee wrest the fire from its mantle.
I, Yuria, and all Londor, embrace thy impending Lordship.
Thou'st forsworn the Lord's Mark.
There is naught more to say.
Farewell, our fleeting Lord.



Where are thy wits!
Cease this at once!
Hmph, Yoel knows not of thy folly.
A Hollow need not be mad.
No one so weak shall ever rule us!




So, these are the shackles of the gods...
Kaathe, I have failed thee...
Peasant, at least thy cadavder shall a little kindling make...



Thy Lordship, what is the matter?
Please, stop.


Brave usurper, I beseech thee claim the fire...
Be our Lord of Hollows...
Our Lord and Liege.
I prithee play the usurper.
When the moment cometh to link the fire, wrest it from its mantle.
The Age of Fire was founded by the old gods, sustained by the linking of the fire.
But the gods are no more, and the all-powerful fire deserveth a new heir.
Our Lord of Hollows, it shall be, who weareth the true face of mankind.

Please, grant me death. Undo my shackles.

Ohh...
Ohh, then it's true...
A Champion of Ash, as I live and breathe.
To be in your presence is a great honour.
I am Yoel of Londor, a pilgrim, as you can see, only...
Somehow, I've failed to die as was ordained.
Well, perhaps my calling lies elsewhere.
Say, Champion of Ash, how does the idea of taking me into your service strike you?
I was once a sorcerer. Surely I can be of use.
Ohh, I am honoured, truly.
I should be dead, yet you have granted me purpose anew.
I, Yoel of Londor, do solemnly swear myself to you.
Ahh, mm, yes, of course.
An accursed pilgrim has no place in your honourable service.
But if a lost soul should encounter a legend such as you,
could that be anything but a movement of fate?
I will remain in this spot.
Praying solemnly that you might have a change of heart.
Ahh, Champion of Ash. Have you had a change of heart?
I beg of you, take me into your service.



What's come over you!


Killing Undead for sport, accursed champion?
And a fool's sport it is...
Oh, our Champion of Ash, welcome home.
This pilgrim, with a debt in death, hardly deserves to behold this divine flame.
And I never would have, had you not taken me into your service.
I thank you dearly for this... And assure you of my leal service.
Oh, our Champion of Ash. Welcome back.
By all means, tell me what you desire.
Oh, our Champion of Ash. Welcome back.
I would do anything for my master, just say the word.
Be safe, Champion of Ash.
Be safe, our Lord...
As I have said, I was once a sorcerer.
Alas, the magic of Londor is a far cry from the wonders of Vinheim.
But I can teach you what I know.
Perhaps more importantly...
I believe that I can help tease out your true strength.
We pilgrims of Londor are keenly aware.
That those branded by the Darksign possess something quite special...
Then, shall we begin?
Bearer of the Darksign, let your true strength shine...
Ahh, you have attained ample strength.
All will soon be clear, my good Lord...



What do you intend?


Champion of ash, what have you done?
Lady Yuria...
Ahh, I thank you kindly...
Our kindest Lord...
Name thyself, stranger.
I am Yorshka. Captain of the Darkmoon Knights.
What beckoned thee to such a place?
Thou think'st to-
Very well. Captain to this knightless company, I remain.
I will grant thee purpose.
Thou'st journeyed far; hear my voice.
If thou shalt swear by the Covenant, to become
A shadow of Father Gwyn and Sister Gwynevere,
A blade that shall hunt the foes of our Lords;
Then I place thee under the aegis, and the power, of the Darkmoon.
Thou'rt now a Blade of the Darkmoon.
The only knight of our company.
Swear this oath, and face thy solemn duty.
If thou'st come stumbling here in error, I bid thee leave anon.
This tower is a prison. Thy presence shall invoke the ire of the tyrant, Sulyvahn.
Though 'twas a rare delight to converse with another. My thanks, strange visitor.
May the Darkmoon watch over thee.
Thou think'st to remain?
This tower is a prison. Thy presence shall invoke the ire of the tyrant, Sulyvahn.
I bid thee leave, anon.
May the Darkmoon watch over thee.
Thou art return'd?
This tower is a prison. Thy presence shall invoke the ire of the tyrant, Sulyvahn.
I bid thee leave, anon.
May the Darkmoon watch over thee.
Oh, good Blade of the Darkmoon, welcome home.
If I can provide thee succour, only tell me how.
Off so soon?
May the Darkmoon watch over thee.
Long ago, our father Gwyn, lamenting the waning of the fire, became cinder of his own will.
Now, the fire is linked by the champions who have come in his stead.
Such is the will of father, and the gods. And so the Darkmoon knights took arms, to watch over those who link the fire.
But long ago, our company lost its last proper knight.
Only its covenant was preserved, to this day, until the time of thy visit.
Heirdom taketh many forms, indeed.
May I pose thee a question?
This tower, this prison, stands tall and solitary, the contraption bridging its lower reaches long unmoving.
So...by what path didst thou here ascend?
Art thou a creature of the air, or other winged thing?
Oh, my! I imagined it might be so.
Then thou'rt a dragon, or perhaps a crow?
Well, whatever thou beest, thou'rt wondrous strange, yet strangely familiar, visitor.

No, of course not.
Forgive my prying. Think no more on mine asking.
I am ashamed to say, I know very little, of anything...
The Darkmoon Knights were once led by my elder brother, the Dark Sun Gwyndolin.
But he was stricken by illness, and leadership of the knights fell to me.
Then Sulyvahn wrongfully proclaimed himself Pontiff, and took me prisoner.
Oh where could my dear brother be?
If only he were here, I would be most pleased for ye both to meet.
As, most assuredly, would he.

Oh, this is...my brother's...finger.
How it has thinned and withered...
Oh, my thanks. I'm certain thou'st given my brother peace.
It is not much, but take this ring.
It is not much, but please take this.
As my thanks, not as a captain, but as sister to the Dark Sun Gwyndolin.
...Thou'st granted me my brother's touch, one last time...





Dear brother, forgive me...
There is no one left...



Please, stop this!
Thou'rt no true knight!


Dear brother, forgive me...
I have been deceived...
This man is a grave threat...
This woman is a grave threat...
My Blade of the Darkmoon, thy deeds merit great worship.
As Captain, 'tis my duty to honour knights of great accomplishment.
This is a wonder of the Darkmoon, inherited from my brother for this very purpose.
Please, it is thine, and not lightly given.
As a shade of Father Gwyn and Sister Gwynevere,
Persevere in thy knightly duty, hunting down the gods' would-be foes.
My Blade of the Darkmoon, thy deeds merit great worship.
I, Yorshka, captain of this company, hereby recognise thy service.
Please, take this. Thou'rt most deserving of it.
As a shade of Father Gwyn and Sister Gwynevere,
Persevere in thy knightly duty, hunting down the gods' would-be foes.
...I would speak to my brother of this, one day. Of the shining new hope that joined our dear company.
I speak of thee, of course.

Ahhh, another one, roused from the sleep of death?
Well, you're not alone. We Unkindled are worthless. Can't even die right.
Gives me conniptions.
And they'd have us seek the Lords of Cinder, and return them to their moulding thrones.
But we're talking true legends with the mettle to link the fire. We're not fit to lick their boots.
Don't you think?

What a sick joke.
Asking us to seek the Lords of Cinder, and return them to their moulding thrones.
We're talking true legends, those who would link the fire. We're not fit to lick their boots.

Oooh, yet to give in, eh?
Good. The Fire Keeper must be twitching with delight.
But what do you really know about these Lords of Cinder, these supposed legends?
Let's take Aldrich, for one.
A right and proper cleric, only, he developed a habit of devouring men.
He ate so many that he bloated like a drowned pig, then softened into sludge, so they stuck him in the Cathedral of the Deep.
And they made him a Lord of Cinder. Not for virtue, but for might.
Such is a lord, I suppose. But here I ask. Do we have a sodding chance?

At the foot of Lothric Castle, an old path still runs below the tower in the Undead Settlement.
It was used to transport sacrifices to the Cathedral of the Deep. You should see where it leads.
...If you've the stones for it.

You haven't given up yet? Then you're a brasher lad than I thought.
You haven't given up yet? Then you're a brasher lass than I thought.
You can make better use of this.
A medallion to gain entry to the keep of the Undead Legion of Farron, Lords of Cinder in their own right.
I don't need it. Not now I've flown the coop.

The Undead Legion of Farron is a caravan of Undead.
Sworn by wolf's blood to contain the Abyss, the Legion will bury a kingdom at the first sign of exposure.
Joyous bunch, really.
Gaining admission to the Legion is a matter of some ceremony.
Inside their keep, snuffing out the flames of three altars opens the door to the wolf blood.
Inside their keep, snuffing out the flames of four altars opens the door to the wolf blood.
Even accursed Undead want to believe they're special, it seems.
I pity the sorry souls.

Gaining admission to the Legion is a matter of some ceremony.
Inside their keep, snuffing out the flames of three altars opens the door to the wolf blood.
Inside their keep, snuffing out the flames of four altars opens the door to the wolf blood.
Even accursed Undead want to believe they're special, it seems.
I pity the sorry souls.

You offed the Lords of Cinder, the Undead Legion...
So that's how they're delivered to their thrones...

I pity the sorry souls. Is that really lordship's last reward?


I pity the sorry souls. Is that really lordship's last reward?

The poor, wretched souls...
Be they lord or legend, the curse shows no mercy.
What a sham.
Ah, I failed to thank you.
For helping them find their final resting place...
Ahh, I should've known.
Well, I've decided to stop running from my fate.
Loathe me all you like, I shall take what makes you dragon.
Ahh, this is unexpected.
Well, I've decided to stop running from my fate.
Loathe me all you like, I shall take what makes you dragon.



What is it, now!
Enough, you fool!
What in bloody hell is wrong with you!
I'm a deserter, I know.
But I've still plenty of fight in me...



What a bloody joke...
You crawled out of the ground, for gods' sake...
We'll never amount to anything, not you, not I...



What is it, now!
Are you mad?
Lost your head, have you?
Then I suppose I'll have to step in.
And avenge the poor lost souls...
(Attack exertions. Several versions. He wields a large sword)


Go on, be as bloody mad as you like.
Trapped within your wretched curse.
Who can deny the curse? You poor bastard.
Who can deny the curse? You poor girl.


You are a dragon, more dragon than I.
A deserter could hope for no better place to die.
Loathe me all you like, but I am the true dragon...
Ahh, there you are.
This shall be no petty theft.
As the true dragon, I shall take what is rightfully mine.
Mm, you're an Unkindled, aren't you.
I am Sirris, of the Sunless Realms, former servant of the Divinity.
Duties we each bear, but one's duty is a solitary affair.
I doubt we've much to gain from fraternisation.
Blessing of the moon upon your journey.
I doubt we've much to gain from fraternisation.
Blessing of the moon upon your journey.
Hello again.
I have since heard a great deal about you.
For one, that you are most gentle of heart.
I, too, am bound by duty, but can offer you my sign.
I hear that cordial intrusion lays the path to embers.
If I can be of help, by all means, do call upon me.
Blessing of the moon upon your journey.
If you should require assistance, use my sign.
Blessing of the moon upon your journey.
I finally found you.
Just as I promised, grandad, remember?
Good night, grandad...
Oh, there you are.
I'm afraid I've involved you in my affairs, over a little promise, at that.
My sincerest thanks for your assistance.
At last, my grandfather will rest in peace, and I can die.
But there is...one last thing.
May I take a vow? To serve you, as a knight.
Oh, I am most grateful.
I, Sirris, do hereby serve as your faithful knight.
Wherever, whenever, I am needed, and even if all should turn against you...
My loyalty shall never waver.
Blessing of the moon upon your journey.
If I may ever be of assistance, call upon me.
I am your knight, forever and true.
Blessing of the moon upon your journey.
Yes, of course.
I am afraid I have overstepped my bounds.
But if you might ever reconsider, and allow me to avow myself to you...
Do not hesitate to speak up.
Blessing of the moon upon your journey.
Oh, hello again. May I avow myself to you?
As a faithful knight, yours and true.



What are you doing?
Cease this, at once!
You've been clean Hollowed, have you?
Then I will show no mercy.
This is not my time to die.


How could this be...
Forgive me, grandad...
Wretched Hollow. Your long sleep begins...



What's come over you!
Please, stop this!

My vows...
What have I done...
Mm, I have not thanked you, for your generous rescue.
That Dark Spirit was one of Rosaria's Fingers. Vile bastard offspring who lurk in the darkness.
My sworn enemies.
Fearsome invaders, to say the least.
I would not have made it alone. You have my deepest gratitude.
If you require help on your travels, I offer you my sign.
Blessing of the moon upon your journey.
Mm, I see that you are now a Finger of Rosaria.
Your path is wholly different to mine.
Gentle Unkindled, I bid you farewell.
If we meet again, it will be as adversaries.
Gentle Unkindled, I bid you farewell.
If we meet again, it will be as adversaries.
Yes, I see, an arrant Finger you've become.
Very well.
I will cut each Finger from the hand.
(Attack voices - several versions. She wields a thrusting estoc sword)
You poor bastard. May you rest soundly.
Thank you for your kind assistance.
Blessing of the moon upon your journey.
Mm, Unkindled, are we...
And fast on the trail of the Lords absconded?
Then these red eyes are for you.
Use them to pillage embers, and briefly heighten your strength, for your duty.
What else are unkindled ashes good for?

Pillage embers, for briefly heightened strength, for your duty.
What else are unkindled ashes good for?

Well, hasn't it been some time.
I'm Leonhard, the Ringfinger.
Remember me? I slipped you those red eyes back in Lothric.
Remember me? I slipped you those red eyes some time ago.
You're making quite an effort of it. So I thought you might like to know.
If you yearn for a proper red eye orb, one that is uncracked...
Then kill the Darkwraith, survivor of the land swallowed by darkness.
He has been a prisoner, for many ages. In the deepest cell in all Lothric...
He has been a prisoner, for many ages. Deep below the tower, just behind us now...
I can see it in your eyes. If you didn't invade, didn't pillage, whatever would you do?

If you fancy a proper red eye orb, one uncracked, untainted...
Then kill the Darkwraith, survivor of the land swallowed by darkness.
He has been a prisoner, for many ages. In the deepest cell in all Lothric...
He has been a prisoner, for many ages. Deep below the tower, just behind us now...
I can see it in your eyes. If you didn't invade, didn't pillage, whatever would you do?

The stones on that bastard, to show his face round here...
Though he does well to hide his claws...

Ah-hah, you've found a proper red eye...
Brilliant. I knew you were no ordinary man.
Brilliant. I knew you were a dangerous woman.
Now invade and pillage all you like.
And if you grow weary of your duty, you, too, may become a Finger.
Come on, give yourself to Rosaria, of the Cathedral of the Deep.

Now invade and pillage all you like.
And if you grow weary of your duty, you, too, may become a Finger.
Come on, give yourself to Rosaria of the Cathedral of the Deep.

Ahh, so you've chosen to serve Rosaria after all.
She will be pleased with me for finding her another Finger...

But be warned, my friend.
Rosaria's Fingers need only fetch tongues for their mistress.
Otherwise, we are free, unchained.
Like Yellowfinger, you can choose to believe that all Fingers share camaraderie.
But do not force your romance upon the rest of us.

Rosaria's Fingers need only fetch tongues for their mistress.
Otherwise, we are free, unchained.
You are free to believe that all Fingers share camaraderie.
But do not force your romance upon the rest of us.

That bastard, who does he think he is?
He needs to be reminded. Of the grovelling pig that he is...
Wait! Stay out of this!
This pig deserves his death!
If you dare question this knight's justice, an enemy of mine you shall be!
Drown in your trough! You filthy pig!
Didn't I tell you?
Rosaria's Fingers take no allegiance with one another.
And this pig fully deserved his death.
At least, as far as I see it.
Isn't that enough for you?
(laugh)
This pig fully deserved his death.
At least, as far as I see it.
Isn't that enough for you?



You rotten beasts, don't you ever forget...
Just what it is you're ravaging...
Well, well, never expected to see you here.
Couldn't resist her any longer, in all her festering glory?
Felt sorry for the poor thing, in all her festering glory?
And now you want to ravage her soul, as well.
I sowed the seeds. I'll prune the mess.
I, Leonhard, swear so upon my vows to the goddess.
Well, well, back for more, are you?
No ordinary man, are you. I knew it all along.
Vicious one, aren't you. I knew it all along.
And now you want to ravage her soul, as well.
You are no longer of use. You'll run free no more.
I, Leonhard, swear so upon my vows to the goddess.
No one will despoil her soul.
Certainly no beast wrapped in human skin!
What do you want with her soul?
Isn't flesh enough for a sick beast!


You are a vile, rapacious beast...
I should have never let you near her...

Enough with you, my friend.
A knight of the goddess does not die.



What's wrong with you?
Can you even hear me? If you can, cease this at once.
Before it's too late.
I see, I see, as clear as day.
You are a vile, starved beast.
Much too dangerous for her!




Curses, I can't...die here...
My dear Goddess...
You beast. You've trifled with the wrong knight.

You are unbecoming of a Finger.
Neither she, nor I, will have you, vile beast...
Well, a newcomer I see.
I am Andre. I serve at this shrine.
As a humble smith, forging weapons.
You're in search of the Lords of Cinder, I trust?
A toilsome journey I'd wager. You'll require good arms.
Let me smith y' weapons.
I am a smith, such is my purpose.
Ahh, well met.
Tis good to see y' in good health.
What needs smithing this day?



Prithee, be careful.
I don't want to see m' work squandered!

Weapons and protection are sturdy enough, by and large.
But when overused, they'll eventually break.
When their durability is low, repair becomes a necessity.
Use a powder, or simply rest at a bonfire.
But should chance impel them break, bring them me.
I'll hammer 'em back into shape.
They take no pleasure in breaking, I assure y'.
So, handle them with care, if y' would.
There are two ways to smith weapons.
Simple reinforcement is one, and infusion the other.
Reinforcement is straight forward. It strengthens a weapon without altering its property.
Infusion is a more advanced form of smithing that infuses an element.
Reinforcement requires titanite, and infusion requires gems.
Bring the stones, and I'll do the smithing.
It's m' purpose, after all!
In battle, y' weapons are yer only friends. Forge them well, and they won't let y' down.
Ahh, another matter.
Infusing weapons with gems requires a special kind of coal.
My humble coals won't be any use infusing more unusual gems.
I know, it's an awful shame, but it's all I have.
Oh, please, don't give me that look.
Believe it or not, I'm quite thin-skinned.

Oh, my...this coal is from the Undead Legion...
Used to forge the weapons of Farron's Abyss Watchers.
A fine prize. I'm honoured to be endued with it.
Now I'll be equipped to infuse special gems.
Praise the gods, eh. Time to put this brawn to use!

My, my... The coal of that peaceable giant.
Seems like ages past. I imagine his passing was long ago.
I miss the old bugger, I do.
My thanks. I'll be sure this coal is put to good use.
I'll be smithing weapons never afore seen by the likes of y'!
It's but a small service, to pay my humble respects.

Lords... Where didye hap'n upon this coal?
This is much too dark. I see the Abyss in it...
Yet, a smith I remain. I won't turn down a request.
But forget not,
Your fight is for the flame, and for y' fellow kin. Just like mine.
A cursed fate this may be, but hope remains, does it not?
Oh, you've returned. I was hoping to see y'.
That crestfallen arse Hawkwood, he handed me this.
He's changed a great deal since he left this place.
Graven of face, he asked me to give it y'.
Well, now that that task is concluded...
What would y' ha' me smith today?



Enough of that!


Beshrew your heart...
Overstep not yer bounds, cousin.
I may serve, but I'm no slave.
I have business I must attend. Be gone.
Oh, by the by.
If you find any Estus Shards, bring 'em 'ere.
They can be used to reinforce either of y' Estus Flasks.
Without those flasks, you'd want for life or focus.
And they'll always stay with y'. Why not treat 'em well?

Well, well... What's the Undead Legion doing with a coal such as this?
I'd heard one of the Crystal Sages had sided with Farron's Abyss Watchers.
I suppose it must be true.
You should know, this coal is imbued with magic. First one I've ever seen.
Hardly a surprise is it? I've never been one for books or wise men.

A pleasure to make thine acquaintance, Ashen One.
Oh thou'rt...
Oh, no, 'tisn't anything, Ashen One.
I am but a humble handmaid of the shrine.
Weapons, armour, trinkets, and spells...
I've lots of little things to ease the burden of a weary traveller.
...And yes, I'm Undead, too, but not so charitable as to give my goods away.
Ashen One, fetch souls, and bring them to me.
As is thy wont, no?

Ahh, well met, Ashen One.
How may I be of service?
Ashen One, be sure to bring more souls.

Ashen One, if my wares are not to thy satisfaction,
bring me umbral ash.
With ash, I'll fashion new wares.
Is it not our sorry fate, to sup on death?

Gracious. Passing fine ash thou'st given.
Let this ash bestow nourishment.
I only hope these new wares content thee...

Gracious. Passing fine ash thou'st given.
And awfully warm, at that.
Almost as if it had lived, mere moments ago...
Oh, forgive an old woman's idle prate.
I'm sure an ashen one such as thee would never indulge such base contrivances...
And even temptation were to prevail...
I'd overlook a little mischief if thou would'st but thy purse-strings loosen...
Kee hee hee...

Ashen One, what woeful umbral ash is this.
This barren dust, stuff of a fool, won't yield aught.
Where did'st thou happen upon the stuff? Tell me, for the sport.
Oh, yes, I see...
Clinging to lofty dreams in this dying world...more's the pity.
It must come from one most foolish indeed.
Would'st thou not agree?

As the Ashen One ought be...
Little time for japery, mm...
(laugh)


Stop that!

Vile brute. I'm but a poor old woman...

A malicious sort, thou art.
But, marvel on. Remember well, I am Undead.
Bound forever by the shrine's curse...
Well, little sense in timidity now.
I'll have thee for all thou'rt worth...


Oh, you've picked a fine time to visit.
I've just come upon some fine new wares.
How is it thou seem'st privy to this knowledge?

Well, fancy that.
A lost lamb wandereth in, with nary a peep from the bell.
Well, thou shouldst my purpose know.
What can this old handmaid provide thee?
Well, thou'rt exceeding lost indeed.
What can this old handmaid provide thee?
Best not tarry long.

To skirt the curse's grasp...
...tarry not for long.
Tis dark for now, and not a soul stirs. But remember, fires are known to fade in quiet.
Or perhaps thou'rt captive already.
Like the poor girl.

Knowest thou of that soppy gossip?
That cordial intrusion layeth the path to embers.
And so thou art in need of a soapstone, ashen one.
Then thy pockets will o'erflow with souls to trade to me.

Well, well, what warm umbral ash have we here.
It's as if thy fate were with death entwined...
But take no note of me, thy business is thine own.
As by now thou surely knowest,
there is little I love more than a gratuity of souls...


Ahh, you're no jailer, are you?
No, no, you're from far away. And judging by the bell...
You must be some of that unkindled ash.
Remarkable. If that's true, then I have a favour to ask.
Below the High Wall is a musty little town.
Not the home of any lord, just a very old settlement of Undead.
An old woman, Loretta, lives there.
Please give her this ring.
I-I'm not asking for charity. In fa- in fact, if you do this for me...
I'll be sure to repay you in kind.
I-I may be a petty thief, but I've more wits than most royalty.
What do you say, then?
Very well. I humbly place my faith in you.
I am Greirat of the Undead Setlement, and I promise to assist you.
Give this ring to old Loretta at the base of the High Wall.
...Do your part, and I'll do mine.
Yes, well, why should you?
But if you change your mind, give me a shout, eh?
I-I'm only a petty thief. I've nowhere else to go.
Not like there's anything calling to me out there...

Oh, what have we here? Changed your mind, perhaps?
You deliver the ring, and I offer my co-operation.
Hardly a shabby deal, hm?


What in buggery!
Damn it, you've lost it, haven't you!

Curses, how did this...
Forgive me, dear...
Oh, hello, you're back.
And in one piece. Well, now it's time I do my part.
Whatever trinket you need, speak up.
Just don't ask me where I got them.

Oh, hello, you're back.
And in one piece. Well, now it's time I do my part.
Oh, hello, you've come at a good time.
It took some prowling, but I've finally made a score.
Go on, have a gander.
Oh, then, we are both safe and sound.
Thank the gods for that. I don't like cutting things so close.
I might've died if it wasn't for that peculiar onion knight.
I might've died if it wasn't for that little knight Anri.
But in the end, it all paid off.
Take a good look. They're sure to be of some use.
Goodbye, and stay safe.
Oh, this place is a bore. What good is thievery if you've nowhere to go?

Good-bye. I will leave for some time. So long for now.
Do stay safe, you hear? Or my efforts will have been for naught.

Do me a favour, and don't forget our promise.
Give the ring to old Loretta at the base of the High Wall.
A nuisance, I know, but it'll help me tie up some loose ends.
Ahh, there you are. I was thinking...
You know I'm a petty thief.
Well, perhaps I'll go on the prowl.
Everyone's dead or hollowed away anyway, right, so...
I might as well fetch some weapons or treasure for you.
Well, what do you say?
Thank you. You will not be disappointed.
Greirat the Thief was once a well-known name.
Until I ended up rotting in a cell...


All right, fine and well.
If that's your wish, I can only obey.
But, feel free to change your mind later.
I wouldn't want to lose my touch...

What is it? Have you changed your mind?
I'm ready to go thieving at a moment's notice. Just give me the word.
Ahh, hello, fine work, I say.
Discovering Irithyll in the Boreal Valley, all in a day's work.
If the tales are true, it is home to old moon-worshipping nobles, and should be packed with treasure.
What do you think? Shall I go and see what I can find?
Mm, a fine choice!
I am Greirat, the thief. What I bring back will be worthy of that name.

All right, fine and well.
If that is your wish, I can only obey.
But, feel free to change your mind later.
I hate to leave a city of nobles ripe for the picking...

What is it? Changed your mind?
I'm ready to go thieving at a moment's notice. Just give me the word.
You know, I was thinking...
About leaving for another round of thieving.
There must be something of use in Lothric Castle.
I-I'm aware of the danger. That castle is a deathtrap.
Not a single man has returned from the castle unscathed, even back in the day.
But I don't want sit around and die a petty rat.
And I consider myself your friend.
Thank you, for placing your trust in me.
Oh, don't you worry. I know Lothric like the back of my hand.

Right, fine. You're very thoughtful, you are.
But, if you change your mind, do speak up.
I meant every word of what I said.
Changed your mind?
I hope you do. I lived a petty rat, but would rather not die as one.
Heavens, she was already dead...
Thank you. I-I'm not surprised, though.
Hmm, almost a relief, really.
You can keep the ring.
As, well, a little trinket of thanks, I suppose.




What's got into you?
Stop that, please, stop!

How could you!
I've gone and run my course, haven't I?
Cold piss, what the devil is it now!
I get caught once, and now this!
One bloody time! Curse the gods!

As they say,
"The cornered rat will lick the balls of a cat."
You're headed for the brink, aren't you?
Well, you won't drag me down.
En guarde, you crusty ash bastard!

Cold piss, why did it come to this...
And I thought we were friends...some friends...
Well, this is unexpected. I don't often have visitors.
What do you want?
This is my study that you've happened upon.
If you haven't any business, I've reading to get back to.
How intriguing.

Very well.
Indeed, I am a sorcerer. With plenty to share.
However...
What champion demands service without recompense?
Clearly, you are not that sort of man.
Clearly, you are not that sort of woman.
So, you will make me a promise.
That in exchange for my teaching, you will bring me knowledge.
In the form of scrolls detailing sorcery's secrets.
Well? Can you assure me of this?
Very well.
You are no fool. I take it you understand the weight of a promise.
I am Orbeck of Vinheim.
Unkindled one, I shall teach you sorceries.
We will learn together, it shall be like our very own school.
I can respect an honest man.
I can respect an honest woman.
But I've already put in more than my fair share of gratuitous service.
Be on your way, then.
Though you're welcome back if you change your mind.
Have you changed your mind?
If I am to teach you, you are to fetch me knowledge.
In the form of scrolls detailing the secrets of sorcery.
Can you make this promise?
You'd better not. Sorcery is not for everyone.
And should never be forced.
You have your own methods. Sorcery need not be one of them.
Don't let it bother you.
Be on your way, then.
You're Unkindled. Shouldn't you get back to your duty?
Oh, I thought you'd already given up.
Well, nothing has changed. You're not inclined for sorcery.
It is either a natural fit, or no fit at all.
Be on your way, then.
You're Unkindled. Shouldn't you get back to your duty?
Well, well... There's something different about you, isn't there?

Yes, I see.
On your way, then.
This is my study, and I've plenty of reading to do.
Oh, enough of you, already.
Do you have business with me?



What's the meaning of this?
Stop while you're still ahead.
Is that how it is?
Then we are through and done.
Enjoy your long sleep!

Gods, this business never did agree with me...


Curses, how could this...
I've lost...my touch...
Oh, I've had it with you!
Not another word will come out of your mouth!
Perhaps this will teach you!
That petty mischief will not go overlooked!
That ought to keep you quiet...
Oh, you're back, then.
Again, I'm Orbeck of Vinheim, here to teach you sorceries.
Let us begin with the basics. The ideal sorcerer bears the twin faces of the dragon...
...Oh, you could at least act as if you're paying attention!
(laugh)
Back again, I see.
I suppose this means that you're after sorceries?
Back again, I see.
Perfect timing, too. I'm in need of a diversion.
Oh, what is it? Forgot something?
That would be quite like you.

Come again.
Promise to stay safe.
Don't forget what you promised.
Promise to stay safe.
It's been nice running our own little school.
I don't mean to seem overbearing, but have you forgotten?
In exchange for my sorceries, you are to bring me knowledge.
In the form of scrolls detailing the secrets of sorcery.
I hope you're not one to break a promise.
Have you forgotten our agreement?
I am starved. For sorceries.
Come now, I've been charitable long enough.
Oh, I have something for you.
You're a fine sorcerer now, no mistake.
You should have something to prove it.
Go on. If I'm giving something away, you'd better well take it.

How do you like gimmicks, friend?
This is a sign, a cipher employed by sorcerers who use quietude to their advantage.

With this, you can be sure to tell friend from foe from your very first encounter.
It's a very old practice at this point...
...but one that you deserve to know.
It is folly to claim lives recklessly, friend. Do not be tempted.
No matter the victim's stature, every killing has a consequence.
Even as I bloodied my hands, I never realised this simple truth.
Hmph. There I was, the very definition of a fool...
In Vinheim, I was an assassin.
A sorcerer only in name, a killer for hire.
What a fool I was, thinking one day I would learn real sorceries.
When I became Undead, I was exiled from the school.
But here I am, now, exploring the depths of sorcery.
All thanks to you, I might add.
You've been very studious.
In fact, I have nothing more to teach.
Well, I suppose it's high time to call it quits.
I would hate to see our agreement end sourly.
Better left tucked away, as a nice memory.
You are no ordinary man.
You are no ordinary woman.
All these sorceries, and you've mastered every one.
If this were the Dragon School, you'd be...
..well, overtly despised, and banished from the place.
(laugh)
Well, I suppose it's time I packed my bags.
I would hate to see our agreement end sourly.
Better left tucked away, as a pleasant memory.
Oh, my... This is stupendous.
Then the Undead Legion of Farron possesses sorceries quite unknown.
Thank you, for upholding your end of the bargain.
I doubt I ever would have made this discovery alone.
Now, let us unravel the thing, so you may put these new sorceries to use.

Oh, my! You've made quite the discovery!
This is a scroll of the prodigious Big Hat Logan.
A masterful sorcerer, long missed in Vinheim.
And now, we have his scroll, right here in my very hands.
Unfathomable.
This is a crystal sorcery, created by the pale dragon,
thought only to exist in legend...
I am ever grateful to you. This is truly sublime.
I am afraid this is a debt I cannot repay, only...
I will be sure to unravel it for you. Just a moment.
Oh, my... This is very unusual.
It's from Oolacile, an ancient land of golden sorceries.
Not even the Dragon School possesses such a long-lost scroll.
What would the xanthous scholars say, with their ridiculous headwear.
They would simply slaver over this find.
(laugh)



What is this about?
Have you lost your wits?
Seems it's too late.
Then, there's only one thing to do.
With regret, I will end this here and now!

Gods, what have I done...
Farewell. We had a nice little school going.


But, why...
Is that all that I'm worth?


So be it...
It was nice while it lasted...
Ah-hah, Unkindled are we?
Welcome to my abode.
I am Cornyx, an old pyromancer.
A crow in his cage, as you see, now.
But here we are, an encounter for the ages!

I hear the Unkindled make for fine vessels.
Care to learn some pyromancies from this old man?

Most wise. A chance encounter should not be squandered.
To reiterate, I am Cornyx, of the Great Swamp.
The pleasure is mine.


Most foolish. This old crow has a little knowledge of his own, you know.
Bah. No sense in spelling it out.
I will not rush you. You will return, once you are enlightened.
We are, after all, both Undead. And both prisoners, in our own ways.

Well, hello, That was certainly quick.
Well, hello. You certainly took your time.
Are you any more enlightened on this occasion?



What are you doing?
Cease this foolishness.


Hah hah hah hah!
Little bird, what's to be gained?
Ahh, there you are, Unkindled One.
I wish to express my gratitude.
For trusting a lowly pyromancer, and allowing me to gaze upon this majestic flame.
As promised, I will impart pyromancies to you.
But first, you'll need a flame of your own.
Careful you don't burn yourself with it.

Ahh, there you are, Unkindled One.
I am pleased to have a pupil as dedicated as you.

Do not be gone for long.
What is a teacher without a pupil?

To learn pyromancies, you must vow to become my pupil.
I know, I know, but such is the way of the world. Respect your elders, and so on.
And pyromancy, of course, is no exception.

Oh, we'll need a pyromancy tome to learn more advanced pyromancies.
Though unorthodox, that would be the most expedient way to make progress.
If this were the Great Swamp, and you had the luxury of time, we could have trained you the hard way.

If you seek pyromancy tomes, take this sage advice.
The lands of the Lords converge upon Lothric.
The home of pyromancies drifts comparatively close, as well.
At least, that is what pyromancers of the Great Swamp believe.
The place is called Izalith. Oh, how I wish to behold a primal pyromancy.
Well, these are old tales. No one knows where the truth begins, or ends.

Ahh, you found this tome in the Catacombs...
This spell is akin to chaos.
It may even serve as a link to Izalith, home of pyromancies...
Heed my words, Unkindled One.
Fear the fire.
The home of pyromancy, Izalith, was scorched by the very fire it created.
Undoubtedly, it was a flame of chaos, tangled by a witch's hand.
But who's to say that this Bonfire's flame is any different?
Yes, here we are. It's been long indeed.
With this, I can teach you more sophisticated pyromancies.
Splendid. I can boast I am your tutor a little longer.

Well, well...I've never seen anything like this.
This inscription...this tome is from the Catacombs.
Fascinating. On this day, the teacher learns alongside the pupil.

Ah, what have we here! A pyromancy tome from Izalith!
Then you've found the home of pyromancy.
Brilliant. I will never curse being old and Undead again.
Now, now, show it here, quickly. Let us channel them together.
The primal pyromancies known only to old Master Salaman!
Ahh, what have we here...
By the gods. This inscription reads Quelana, the ancient deity, one of the witches of Izalith...
The last of them, who wandered the lands. Then she must have returned to Izalith, after all.
But I regret to say, I cannot accept this.
Quelana's pyromancies are for witches, and must be learned from a mistress.
But thank you, for allowing me to peer upon such a thing.
If only I were a woman.

I'm afraid I cannot accept this.
This pyromancy tome is dark, and delves into the depths of men, where an untouchable flame resides.
I cannot comprehend this myself, let alone teach it to you.
It is a spell forbidden in the Great Swamp, and nearly everywhere else, too.
Only one terribly afflicted, or burdened by deep sorrow, could begin to understand this.



Why? What's the matter?
Stop this, stop this at once!
Fine, fine, I see how it is.
When a pupil strays from the path, the master must intrude.
Prepare yourself, hatchling.
Behold, the pyromancy of an old crow!




I can't complain... This old reverie...had to end...
You've been dabbling in pyromancies, it seems?
Well then, care to learn some pyromancies from this old man?
Oh, the eternal folly of youth...
Spare the rod and spoil the child...
Oh, there you are.
I thought you'd all but forgotten me. How sweet.
Good to know that a skinny little heretic can still turn heads.

Hm? Oh...you're not one of them, are you?
Accept my apologies, for mistaking you for one of those leeches.
So, what business have you here?
This is a land of monstrosities. And I am no exception.
Would I serve you?
Then you must be involved in linking of the fire.
Ahh, very well. I can do very little holed up here.
I am Feria, of the Profaned Capital, and I hereby enter into your service.

You are very frank.
If you've no business here, take your leave at once.
For your own sake.
What is it? Something else?
Ahh, don't fret over me. I'm stuck here anyway.


Why, you're one of those leeches after all.
How dare you feign humanity.


Cursed leech, I await you, in the Abyss...

Ahh, there you are.
As I said, I am Karla. And am grateful to you.
Now, what shall we do.
The only thing that might interest you is my sorcery.
Although my dark arts are a detestable sort.
That wouldn't interest you, would it?

You're a wicked one, aren't you?
Very well. Humans are of the dark, and you are no different.
Some may avert their eyes, but the truth remains the truth.
Be careful though. Few humans are privy to this knowledge.
Let it be a secret, between you and I...

Most regrettable.
I have nothing else, you see, nothing at all.
Have you so soon forgotten? That place is home only to monstrous things, and I am no exception.
Ahh, hello there. I'm sorry to say...
This truly is all I have.
Detestable sorceries that delve into the darkness of man...
Ahh, hello again. Thank goodness.
Yes, yes, you require my sorceries, I presume?

Ahh, hello again. Thank goodness.
One can become quite attached, even to a bumbling apprentice.
Oh, I'm hardly serious.

Do stay safe.
Don't stir up any trouble.
You're my apprentice, don't forget.

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.
Fear not, your choice will bring you no scorn.
Ahh, it's little wonder my kindness is lost on most...

Oh, a pyromancy tome, have we?
Quelana, Witch of Izalith...well, this is a fascinating pyromancy...
Very well. If this is your wish.
I will unravel the thing the best I can.
Besides. It will be nice to play master for once.

Ohh, another pyromancy tome, have we?
Quelana, Witch of Izalith...well, this is a fascinating pyromancy...
I may be a heretical sorcerer, but you bring me nothing but pyromancies!
Fiendish little lad, you...
Fiendish little lass, you...

Oh, a pyromancy tome, have we?
And one that resonates with the dark, yes, well suited to me...

Very well. If this is your wish.
I will unravel the thing the best I can.
Besides. It will be nice to play master for once.

Oh, another pyromancy tome, have we?
And one that resonates with the dark, yes, well suited to me...

I may be a heretical sorcerer, but you bring me nothing but pyromancies!
Fiendish little lad, you...
Fiendish little lass, you...

Oh, is this a Divine Tome?
What on earth are you thinking?
I wouldn't go near a Divine Tome or any so-called miracle.
And casters of miracles are sure to steer clear of me.
So, please.
Don't torture me so.
Ahh, you, how could you...
Ahhh....
I know, I know. I owe my life to you.
Fine, then. Just this once, I will tell you this tale.
But do understand, it will be my first time.
I'll have no sniggering, should I err.


What's wrong?
How could you?


You're a fickle one...
And vicious...

You're here to save me...?
But I am guilty. A wretched child of the Abyss.
Is that something you can forgive?
Oh, really. You are no ordinary man.
Oh, really. You are no ordinary woman.
Very well. Besides, I've grown tired of imprisonment.
I am Karla, and I accept your proposal.
Oh, are you lost on your journey?
No matter, today's lost are conquerors tomorrow.
It only demonstrates the makings of a champion.
And besides, whatever your choice...
It will not change my sense of gratitude, or how I think of you.
Ahh, who's there?
Is someone there, anyone?
Ahh, please, whoever you are, touch me.
The dark surrounds me, nibbles at my flesh.
Little creatures, they never stop biting.
So please, hold out your hand, and touch me...
Ahh, yes, there you are, so close, indeed.
Then I am not entirely alone, just yet.
Praise the merciful gods above...
Oh, forgive me.
I am Irina of Carim.
I came to this land so that I might be a Fire Keeper.
Your touch has freed me from the darkness. You are a Champion, then?
I am weak, and unfit to tend the flames,
But if it would not trouble you, might I enter into your service, instead?
Oh, thank you, sweet Champion.
I shall take my vows.
I, Irina of Carim, solemnly swear to serve you.
Ahh, yes, of course, I understand.
Even so, I thank you deeply. For your touch.
I will never forget it, not ever.
Oh, sweet Champion. You still wish to converse?
Don't worry about me. I've long dealt in dark. It is my calling.




Have mercy!
Please, stop this!


Ohh, great gods, forgive me...
Oh, Champion of Ash. Welcome back.
You truly are all the tales said you would be.
I was not meant to be a Fire Keeper, but I am honoured to serve you beside the Bonfire.
The gods are ever-merciful. My gratitude lies with them, and with you.
I am yours now. Your wish is my command.
Oh, Champion of Ash. Welcome back.
Do you wish to hear a tale? You only have to ask.
Have a pleasant journey, Champion of Ash.
I pray for your safety.
You know, in my home of Carim, I was a nun.
I would be pleased to share the tales of miracles with you.
Although to be honest, I only know a few.
But if I had a divine tome, I could tell you many tales and more.
Ahh, only I cannot see...
Terribly sorry, but you'll have to find me a Divine Tome in braille.
Ahh, you've brought me a braille Divine Tome.
Now I can tell new tales of miracles.
Tales of the greater miracles can be quite the epics...
What fun we will have.

Ahh, you've brought me a braille Divine Tome.
Now I can tell you new tales of miracles.
Tales of the old dragon hunters.
Perhaps the kind you might enjoy...
Oh, what's this...
Champion of Ash, this Divine Tome is forbidden...
These are dark tales of things that lurk deep within men... These stories would not please you...
Of course, if you insist, I will read them for you.
Only, ahh, ahh, they frighten me so.
The little creatures that nibble at me in the darkness...
Ahh, ahh, sweet Champion. Where have you been?
Please, your touch...
The little creatures, how they nip and bite...
Ahh, sweet Champion. Leaving so soon?
Please, come back in good time.
I am frightened. Of the dark that gnaws away at me.
Ahh, you've brought me a braille Divine Tome.
Now I can tell you tales of miracles, forever and ever...

Ahh, ahh, someone, please, touch me.
The dark, surrounds me, nibbles at my flesh.
Little creatures, they never stop biting.
So please, hold out your hand, and touch me...



Have mercy, please!
Please, stop this, sweet Champion!


What have you done, sweet Champion of Ash...
I only wanted to...
Thank you ever so much, sweet Champion.
May your solemn duty conclude in triumph.
Godspeed, Champion of Ash.
May your solemn duty conclude in triumph.
Ohh, is there no one near to touch me?
Keep these things from eating away at me.
(sobs - several versions)
Ohh, you again, touch me, one last time.
And kill me, as you promised you would.
(giggle)
(giggle - longer)
Ohh, sweet Champion of Ash.
Let souls be your strength...


Ahh, thank you ever so much.
For your touch...


Ohh, a knight of Carim...
...is always true to his word...

Hmm... Another one of those Unkindled, are you?
All you faceless Undead, behaving as if you deserve respect.
Hmph. No matter. Heed my words.
If you've any sense, you'll go find a coffin to huddle up inside.
You here, in this land of Hollows, you're like a frail maiden on the front lines.
If like the others, you're fool enough to play the champion...
Then go on ahead, traipse right past the abandoned church.
You'll face death, and it won't be pretty.
Enough death to leave you broken, time after time.

If like the others, you're fool enough to play the champion...
Then go on ahead, traipse right past the abandoned church.
Hopeless, the whole lot of you. Like little moths, flittering toward a flame.

You like poking around in cells, do you?
How very genteel!

Ah-hah, taken an interest in her, have you?
Well, she's a lost cause. Couldn't even become a Fire Keeper.
After I brought her all this way, and got her all ready.
She's beyond repair, I tell you.

The woman's a lost cause.
Couldn't even become a Fire Keeper.
She's beyond repair, I tell you.

Hmm... Another one of those Unkindled, are you?
All you faceless Undead, behaving as if you deserve respect.
Now you're poking around in peoples' cells.
How very noble!

You've gone and rescued her, have you?
How very quaint, pitying creatures that are beyond help.

Very well. I'm sick of looking after her at any rate.
I am Eygon, a knight of Carim.
I am allied to you as long as you assure the girl's safety.
And only for that long...
What's the matter? My terms are very simple.
I am allied to you for as long as you assure the girl's safety.
And only for that long...

Hmm... Another one of those Unkindled, are you?
All you faceless Undead, behaving as if you deserve respect.
Now you've gone and rescued the wench...
How very quaint, pitying creatures that are beyond help.

Hmph, very well. I'm sick of looking after her at any rate.
I am Eygon, a knight of Carim.
I am allied to you for as long as you assure the girl's safety.
And only for that long...
Ahh, I know you. Been some time, since we met in person.
Ahh, I know you. Been some time.
I just dropped in to see how she's getting on.
Now, what are you playing at with this circus?
This cesspool of doddering oldfolk and degenerates.
Couldn't be better. She must fit in perfectly here.

This place is a cesspool of doddering oldfolk and degenerates.
Couldn't hope for better. She must fit in perfectly here.

I made myself very clear.
My allegiance remained only as long as you assured the girl's safety.
This knight of Carim does not forgive betrayal.
Even a broken woman deserves her dignity...



What is it now!
Curse you, damn fool!
Lost it, have you?
Then I'll take care of you.
As many times as it takes!

Stay dead this time.


Deluded Hollow bastard...

Remember. A knight of Carim does not forgive betrayal.
Not ever.


You monster. Just how many souls have you eaten?


Oh, hello. How do you do.
I am Anri of Astora. Unkindled, like you.
This is Horace. A friend and travelling companion.
Are you too in search of the Lords of Cinder?
We are well along the road of sacrifices. Below us is the Crucifixion Woods.
Beyond the flooded woods lies Farron Keep, home of the Undead Legion. Further yet is the Cathedral of the Deep.
We seek the cathedral, home of the grim Aldrich.
We may go our separate ways now, but we are both seekers of lords.
The next time we cross paths, one may find the other in a time of need.
May the flames guide your way.
Oh, yes, Horace...
He's not very talkative.
But don't think ill of him. He's an upstanding, kind-hearted knight, a fine partner for this gruelling journey.
Without his help, I would have cursed this onerous duty long ago.
We are well along the road of sacrifices. Below us is the Crucifixion Woods.
Beyond the flooded woods lies Farron Keep, home of the Undead Legion. Further yet is the Cathedral of the Deep.
We may go our separate ways now, but we are both seekers of lords.
The next time we cross paths, one may find the other in a time of need.
May the flames guide your way.
Oh, and we meet again.
We spoke before on the road of sacrifices. Anri of Astora.
I am well pleased to see you safe.
We reached the Cathedral of the Deep, but Aldrich's coffin was empty.
The man-eater must have left for his true home.
The little doll in the empty coffin told me.
Aldrich is said to hail from Irithyll in the Boreal Valley, an ancient fabled city...
A pilgrim told me that the city lies beyond Farron Keep.
And so becomes our destination...
Aldrich's honest home is Irithyll in the Boreal Valley, an ancient fabled city...
A pilgrim told me that the city lies beyond Farron Keep.
And so becomes our destination...
Oh, hello, how very fortunate.
Have you seen my companion, Horace?
To my shame, I was snared by a trap, and we've become separated.
I've not been able to find him since.
Yes, I see.
Horace is a valiant knight. He can look after himself, no question.
He's probably searching for me right now, with twice the resolve.
If you happen upon him, please tell him.
That I remain in the catacombs...
And will lay prism stones to guide him, as always.
Please send him my word, I beg of you.
May the flames guide your way.
If you happen upon Horace, please tell him.
That I remain in the catacombs...
And will lay prism stones to guide him, as always.
Please send him my word, I beg of you.
May the flames guide your way.
Ah, hello, we meet again.
Have you seen Horace anywhere?
Goodness me.
To think there'd be a lake so deep within these catacombs.
What a relief. I knew that Horace was alive, and wouldn't stray far.
Thank you. We are both in your debt.
This hardly expresses my gratitude, but it'll have to do for now.
Please, take it. And may the flames guide your way.
I will soon head to the lake.
Thank you. We are both in your debt.
May the flames guide your way.
Oh, yes, I see...
I've searched high and low, with no luck. Perhaps he's left the catacombs.
Oh, Horace. Where have you run off to?
Oh, Horace. Where have you run off to?
Have you abandoned me? No, what a horrible thought...
Oh, I thought it might be you. Good to see you.
I never managed to find Horace.
But my duty must be done, even alone. As an unkindled Lordseeker.
For the children I knew, bless their souls.
We all have our reasons, don't we?
Please, take this. Recompense for my foolish request.
And also a token of protection. May the flames guide your way.
Ahh, you are brave indeed. To face your duty alone.
I would do well to learn from you.
May the flames guide your way.



What's happened to you?
Please, stop this!
You've gone Hollow, have you?
Then I shall put you to rest.
Horace! Join me!
And may the flames watch over us!

Oh, Horace, why...
Don't leave me, not you...
Not like the others...
Oh, Horace, Horace...


Forgive me, Horace...
It pains me...to leave you...


Oh, Horace, everyone, forgive me...
I was weak on my own...
Ahh, I thought it might be you.
Then I'm afraid Horace...
...No, this only bolsters my resolve.
Please. Lend me your strength.
Help me vanquish Aldrich, the man-eating fiend.
Yes...we did it...
I owe this to you. Thank you. Truly.
Horace, we've done it, we really have...
Oh, hello. How do you do.
I'm Anri of Astora. Unkindled, like you.
This is Horace. A friend and travelling companion.
Are you too in search of the Lords of Cinder?
We are well along the road of sacrifices. Below us is the Crucifixion Woods.
Beyond the flooded woods lies Farron Keep, home of the Undead Legion. Further yet is the Cathedral of the Deep.
We seek the cathedral, home of the grim Aldrich.
We may go our separate ways now, but we are both seekers of lords.
The next time we cross paths, one may find the other in a time of need.
May the flames guide your way.
Oh, yes, Horace...
He's not very talkative.
But don't think ill of him. He is an upstanding, kind-hearted knight, a fine partner for this gruelling journey.
Without his help, I would have cursed this onerous duty long ago.
We are well along the road of sacrifices. Below us is the Crucifixion Woods.
Beyond the flooded woods lies Farron Keep, home of the Undead Legion. Further yet is the Cathedral of the Deep.
We may go our separate ways now, but we are both seekers of lords.
The next time we cross paths, one may find the other in a time of need.
May the flames guide your way.
Oh, and we meet again.
We spoke before on the road of sacrifices. Anri of Astora.
I am well pleased to see you safe.
We reached the Cathedral of the Deep, but Aldrich's coffin was empty.
The man-eater must have left for his true home.
The little doll in the empty coffin told me.
Aldrich is said to hail from Irithyll in the Boreal Valley, an ancient fabled city...
A pilgrim told me that the city lies beyond Farron Keep.
And so becomes our destination...
Aldrich's honest home is Irithyll in the Boreal Valley, an ancient fabled city...
A pilgrim told me that the city lies beyond Farron Keep.
And so becomes our destination...
Oh, hello, how very fortunate.
Have you seen my companion, Horace?
To my shame, I was snared by a trap, and we've become separated.
I've not been able to find him since.
Yes, I see.
Horace is a valiant knight. He can look after himself, no question.
He's probably searching for me right now, with twice the resolve.
If you happen upon him, please tell him.
That I remain in the catacombs...
And will lay prism stones to guide him, as always.
Please send him word, I beg of you.
May the flames guide your way.
If you happen upon Horace, please tell him.
That I remain in the catacombs...
And will lay prism stones to guide him, as always.
Please send him word, I beg of you.
May the flames guide your way.
Ah, hello, we meet again.
Have you seen Horace anywhere?
Goodness me.
To think there'd be a lake so deep within these catacombs.
What a relief. I knew that Horace was alive, and wouldn't stray far.
Thank you. We are both in your debt.
This hardly expresses my gratitude, but it'll have to do for now.
Please, take it. And may the flames guide your way.
I will soon head to the lake.
Thank you. We are both in your debt.
May the flames guide your way.
Oh, yes, I see...
I've searched high and low, with no luck. Perhaps he's left the catacombs.
Oh, Horace. Where have you run off to?
Oh, Horace. Where have you run off to?
Have you abandoned me? No, what a horrible thought...
Oh, I thought it might be you. Good to see you.
I never managed to find Horace.
But my duty must be done, even alone. As an unkindled Lordseeker.
For the children I knew, bless their souls.
We all have our reasons, don't we?
Please, take this. Recompense for my foolish request.
And also a token of protection. May the flames guide your way.
Ahh, you are brave indeed. To face your duty alone.
I would do well to learn from you.
May the flames guide your way.



What's happened to you?
Please, stop this!
You've gone Hollow, have you?
Then I shall put you to rest.
Horace! Join me!
And may the flames watch over us!
(Attack sounds - several versions. He/she wields a long sword)
Oh, Horace, why...
Don't leave me, not you...
Not like the others...
Oh, Horace, Horace...


Forgive me, Horace...
It pains me...to leave you...


Oh, Horace, everyone, forgive me...
I was weak on my own...
Mmm, I thought it might be you.
Then I'm afraid Horace...
...No, this only bolsters my resolve.
Please. Lend me your strength.
Help me vanquish Aldrich, the man-eating fiend.
Yes...we did it...
I owe this to you. Thank you. Truly.
Horace, we've done it, we really have...
Well, you look reasonably sane.
I am a knight of Catarina.
I've managed to track down this cathedral's store of treasure.
It's right over there, across that narrow part.
Treasure...hmm. Always so close, yet so far...
I'm in quite a pickle, indeed...
Hmm... Hmm...
Just hold your horses a moment.
I know, I know, treasure is so sorely tempting...
Hmm... Hmm...
Shame on you, you greedy guts.
Shame on you, you insatiable wench.
Shame on you, you rotten cleric.
Shame on you, you rotten nun.
Thought you could outwit an onion?
Well, say hello to the nice giant! He adores visitors.


Huh? Where's the old giant?
What! Where's the bloody giant!
Just what have you done?!
How dare you! Have you no shame!
Damn! Damn! Damn!
Oh, yes, oh, hello, I don't believe we've met.
I'm Patches. Unbreakable Patches.
You seem to be Unkindled.
Do you have business with me?
Ah, oh, yes, of course...It's coming back to me, now.
Oh, I am so sorry. That was my hand, as you know, but the deed, well, that was the armour's doing.
Regrettable, truly. But behold, I'm stripped clean of that unruly attire.
And look at you, not a scratch!
All's well that ends well, right?
Yes, we'll be fine, I can tell, it's that rotten curse, it is, the untidy mess.

Oh, ahh, yes, now, it wasn't me, but you still deserve an apology.
Just a little trinket. Go ahead, it's yours now.

You should know, I'm a kind of traveling merchant.
If you're as Unkindled as you look, you'll find plenty of good stuff.
Oh, yes, yes, what can I do?
Can't resist it, can you? My sumptuous selection.
Oh, hello again. Welcome to Patches' boutique of wonders.
Can't resist it, can you? My sumptuous selection.
Thanks, good compeer.
Thanks, sweeting.
Can't find anything you like?
Well, you could try looking a little harder...
Of course not, we have just met, after all.
Sorry, I've been a bit on edge. Forget I even asked.

Ahh, but this is your lucky day.
I happen to be a world-renowned travelling merchant.
If you're as Unkindled as you look, you'll find many a useful thing here.
Sorry, friend.
Be more careful! By the gods, curiosity is going to kill you kittens.
Some places are better left alone, you know.
Oh, sorry, am I a tad too late?

Have no fear, there's beauty in death.
Besides, you're surrounded by ladies. Every man's dream, right?
Besides, you're amongst your own. Plenty of company, right?
Besides, you're surrounded by ladies. Every rotten cleric's dream, right?

Oh, no matter, I'll look after things.
By stripping every last trinket off your corpse.
You're going to make some lucky customer very happy!

Ah, oh, you, you're alive...
Now, hold your horses, let's have a nice talk about this.
I'll come clean, I did you wrong. I didn't mean it, though, not one bit.
You get these...urges...running the business and all...Oh, and I hate myself for it, I do.
You know what I mean? Terrible, really. But I can see you'll forgive me.
You're alive, after all, and that's what counts, right?
Oh, fantastic! A wily second chance!
I knew you'd understand, I just knew it.
The heart of a lion. A model for the rest of us. A true friend, forever.

Oh, for heaven's sake, no need to jest with a face like that.
You're still alive, and I'm here grovelling in the dirt, so to speak.
Oh, I know! Here, a token of my sincerity. Right and proper, eh?
We're just a couple of outcasts, let's make the best of it!

Oh, yes yes, what can I do?
Aren't you glad we made good of things?
Oh, hello again. Welcome to Patches' boutique of wonders.
Can't resist it, can you? My sumptuous selection.
Thanks, good compeer.
Thanks, sweeting.
Can't find anything you like?
Well, you could try looking a little harder...
Well, look at you. The luckiest man in the world.
Well, look at you. The luckiest lass in the world.
I just got hold of some truly fine treasure. And for you, I'll practically give it away.

What do you say? Brilliant stuff, eh?
I won't ask for thanks, but I certainly deserve it.

Now, just wait, that's the best you can do? Bloody hell.
Yeah, keep those purse strings nice and tight. So tight they choke you.
Ahh, I see you've met Greirat.
The slinking rodent. But he did me a good turn back in Lothric dungeon.
Doubtless I should do something about that little debt, or...maybe not.
Well, I can hardly believe he's still standing.

Hey, what happened to Greirat, anyhow?
I haven't seen him at all lately.
If you know where he's scurried off to, be sure and tell me.
I need to stock up, and if he's gone and croaked, he'll have left a gold mine.

What? Gone all the way to Irithyll, has he?
Well, there can't be much left of that frozen sprawl.
The old rat, he's gone off the deep end this time...
The old rat, he's gone off the deep end this time...
Hmph. Off to Lothric, the castle of no return...
That old thief's lost it if he thinks he has a chance in there.
It's not like he's new to this game, what's gotten into him?
That old thief, he's really lost it this time...
Right, yes, I see how it is.
Some things can't be divulged. Even between friends.
It comes with the territory, I know.
But if you happen to recall any details, do be a saint.
Do it for old Patch's boutique of wonders, at least.

Well? Happen to recall anything important?
About where that old rat scurried off to.




Oi, calm down, please!
Forgive me! I'm on my hands and knees!
All's well that ends well, right!
Oh come on, you know it's true!
Damn, you heartless, good-for-nothing oaf!
Damn, you heartless little harlot!
Well, now it's my turn.
I'm Unbreakable Patches, nobody can crack me!
Rot in hell!



Gods' piss, just my bloody luck...
What did I ever do, anyway?
Cough 'em up, every last one of 'em.
Confess your sins.



What's happened, friend?
Stop this! Stop this at once!
Gods' spit, I knew something was wrong!
Well, now it's my turn.
I'm Unbreakable Patches, nobody can crack me!
Rot in hell!



Gods' spit and piss and blood...
Why me? Why me?!
Close call, blimey...
Hmm...
Mmmmmm...
Hmm... Mmm...
Oh!
Pardon me. I was absorbed in thought.
I am Siegward of Catarina.
To be honest, I'm in a bit of a pickle.
Have you ever walked near a white birch, only to be struck by a great arrow?
Well, if I'm not mistaken, they come from this tower.
Whoever it is, I'm sure I can talk some sense into them.
But I have to find a way up, and that's just the trouble.
This lift only goes down, you see, and...
Well, that doesn't get me anywhere...
Hmm... Mmm...
This lift only goes down, but you know...
With a little warming up, eventually... No, no...
I've got to use my head. And think.
Hmm... Mmm...
Hmm... Mmm...
Ah, oh!
Don't disappear like that. You had me downright worried.
But thanks to you, an epiphany has struck me square in the head.
I've unravelled the riddle of this inscrutable lift!

On some days, I begin to doubt myself.
I went up the tower, so I thought, then somehow ended up here.
I'm not exactly sure what happened.
Anyhow, do you see that? That humungous beast.
I'm no coward, and I've a steady hand, but that thing makes my skin crawl.
Now, now, think twice before you go down that road.
I could try talking some sense into him...
No, I think not. He's far too over-heated.
I've got to use my head. And think.
Hmm... Mmm...
No! You should have waited!
Well, it's too late now.
I, Siegward of the Knights of Catarina, fight by your side!


That was quite the performance.
But you mustn't get in over your head.
We Unkindled must put our duties first.
But for the moment, we've a toast to make.
To your valour, my sword, and our victory together.
Long may the sun shine!

Well, I'm going to have myself a little nap.
The only thing to do, really, after a nice toast.




Hello! Hello!
Anyone there? Anyone at all?
Oh!
I know that voice. Just how long has it been!
It's me, Siegward of Catarina.
I'm loathe to admit it, but I've been had.
Someone's swiped my armour.
Did you happen to see it anywhere?
Ah, oh! My armour!
My deepest gratitude! I, Siegward of Catarina, salute you.
With my trusty suit of armour, I'll be out of here in a jiffy.
Until we meet again, comrade!

No need to worry about me.
With my trusty suit of armour, I'll be out of here in a jiffy.
Until we meet again, my good friend!

Oh, yes, I see...
Not to worry. Great planning begets great fortune.
An old tenet of the Knights of Catarina.
And I am a master planner, I do say!

I'm in quite a pickle indeed.
Maybe I can fashion a replacement...from the...hmm
I've got to use my head. And think.
Hmm... Mmm...



Ah, ohh!
Excuse me. I must have dozed off.
It's rather warm in here.
Well, well, hasn't it been all too long! It's good to see you.
Oh, I seemed to have missed my chance, so...
I, Siegward of Catarina, offer my deepest gratitude.
And a little surprise to go with it. It's all yours.
I know. Won't you join me for dinner?
I make a fine estus soup. I've got some stewing right now.
Even we Undead deserve a little normalcy, from time to time.
And finally, upon this rendezvous, let us make a toast.
To your valour, my sword, and our sworn duties!
Long may the sun shine!

Have you heard?
Somewhere, hidden right here in Irithyll, is a deep dungeon.
And even below that, the Profaned Capital.
Home of Yhorm, the reclusive giant lord.
That reminds me, I've a grave promise to keep...
Oh, sorry, I'm afraid I've cast a cloud over things.
Well, I'm going to have myself a little nap.
The only thing to do, really, after a nice toast.




Hmm...
Mmmmmm...
Hmm... Mmm...
Ah, oh!
Pardon me. I was absorbed in thought.
Look at me, trapped like a rat.
But you needn't worry.
I've just been sitting here, weighing my options.
The moment has almost come.
...I just need a bit more time.
My liberation requires a key.
But the key is outside...
Hmm... A riddle for the ages...
Ah! You are a saint!
Once again, you are my valiant saviour.
I, Siegward of Catarina, express my deepest gratitude.
Take this, a token of my thanks. Go on, it's all yours.
Ah, no, please, go on ahead.
I've my own road to take.
And a duty to fulfil, very soon...
Yhorm, old friend.
I, Siegward of the Knights of Catarina, have come to uphold my promise!
Let the sun shine upon this Lord of Cinder.


It seems I'm in your debt once again.
My thanks, I could not have kept my promise without you.
Now, for a final toast.
To your valour, and my old friend Yhorm.
Long may the sun shine!

Well, I'm going to have myself a little nap.
The only thing to do, really, after a nice toast.
You are a true friend. Best of luck with your duty.


Forgive me, old friend...
I've failed, in everything...



What is the meaning of this!
What's happened to you!
No sense in holding back now.
Witness the fury of a Knight of Catarina!




How did I ever let this happen...
Forgive me, old friend...
You were a poor match, friend...
Oh dear, another dogged contender.
Welcome, Unkindled one, purloiner of cinders.
Mind you, the mantle of lord interests me none.
The fire-linking curse, the legacy of lords, let it all fade into nothing.
Ill-starred are they who take the throne. I shall not stand among them.
You've done quite enough, now have your rest.
The royal sword of Lothric shall grant you peace.
Oh, dear brother...
I'm on my way...
My brother, unyielding sword of Lothric's Prince.
Rise, if you would.
...For that is our curse.






This spot marks our grave.
But you may rest here, too, if you like.


Mark my words, Ashen one...
You remain among the accursed...
Ahh, the wait has been long, Unkindled One.
I am Emma, High Priestess of Lothric Castle.
Allow me to speak frankly.
You will not find the Lords of Cinder here.
They have left, gone.
To their churning homes, converging at the base of this castle.
Head to the bottom of the High Wall.
Forge on through the great gate, and raise this banner to proceed.
Unkindled One. Head to the High Wall's base.
Go through the great gate, and raise this banner to proceed.
But beware. The dog keeps a close eye on things.
The vile watchdog of the Boreal Valley.
What is wrong, Unkindled One?
Are you not a Lordseeker? Head to the base of the High Wall and seek the Lords of Cinder.
Is this not the calling of your kind, since ages past?
Ahh, Unkindled One.
The fire fades, and awaits its one last Lord.
Please, take this...
Prince Lothric is in your hands...
Please, save his soul.
Tell him what he must be. A Lord...


A Lord, he must be...
My dear Prince...Lothric...
This farewell gift is for you.
It is the insignia of an old covenant.
If you fear tresspassers, dark spirits drawn by the embers.
Then etch this upon your heart.
And the old concord will beckon noble Blue Sentinels to hunt these foul spirits.



What on earth?
Whatever is this about?
Ahh, you ignorant slaves. Finally taken notice, have you?
Of the power of my beloved Ocelotte, child of dragons.
Well, I will not give him up.
For he is all that I have.
Ahh, dear little Ocelotte.
Where have you gone? Are you hiding from me?
Come out, come out, don't be afraid.
You were born a child of dragons, what could you possibly fear?
Now, now, show yourself, Ocelotte.
My dear, little Ocelotte.









Ignorant slaves, how quickly you forget.
The strength of dear Ocelotte, child of dragons!



Another nana disappeared
So the grandson carries a cage
He ever has his cage
And nana's never coming back
So come into the cage, and become nana's shade
You, you.
Me, me, pickle-pee.
Me, me, pump-a-rum.
You! You!
Me, me, pickle pee!
Me, me, pump-a-rum!
Pickle pee, pickle pee!
Pickle pee, pickle pee!
Pump-a-rum, pump-a-rum!
Pump-a-rum, pump-a-rum!
You, you.
No, no.
That no pickle pee.
That no pump-a-rum.
You, you.
Not that.
Enough, enough.
Oh, my, I see you're Unkindled
For a pilgrim such as I, all tucked in and awaiting death, to have this honour.
This presages a most glorious death indeed.
Praise thee, praise thee.
Oh, my, you are...!
But I'm afraid we require more time.
As long as it takes a dark droplet to fall, that is all.
Our gracious Lord...
Welcome, our gracious Lord.
Your spouse awaits you, you are very near.
Please, take the Sword of Avowal.
May you be the truest Lord of Londor yet.
Your spouse awaits you, you are very near.
May you be the truest Lord of Londor yet.


Whatever for!


But, why...
Lady Yuria...


Ahh, our gracious Lord...
Make Londor whole...
Well, what's happened here?
This pit is for Hollows, not for the likes of you sane folk.
Or perhaps you are a Hollow, posing as otherwise?

Yes, yes, then we're just fine.
It's important to know who you are.
But we'll all be mad, soon enough. And should you be Undead, well, all the more so.

No, no, of course you're not.
That's what you mad fools always say.
But we'll all be mad, soon enough. And should you be Undead, well, all the more so.
Beware, the shackles of the Gods are fragile.
You might need this. Etch it on your heart if you feel your sanity slipping.
Come here to pile up your victims, for that will form your anchor.
You'll see when you go mad. They'll be your family.

You'll go mad one day, but not today.
Take my advice. Use this bone, and leave this place.
This pit is for Hollows, and for the occasional madman fond of piling up victims.
You've better things to do, I'd hope?


I knew it, I knew you were Hollow!
Well, that's just fine.
You can join my little family!

Right, onto the pile with you. You're family now...


Ahh, my family...
Dear little Sirris...
Who are you?