In the shadow of the towering cliffs of Torrent lies Roundtable Hold, a place shrouded in mystery and darkness. The once grand fortress now stands abandoned and forgotten, its walls whispering tales of a tragic past. Amongst the ruins, a lone figure wanders, his eyes haunted by the memories of what transpired within those cursed walls. This figure is known as the Warden of Roundtable Hold, a guardian of ancient secrets and a keeper of forbidden knowledge.
Long ago, Roundtable Hold was a bastion of power and glory, a place where knights and warriors gathered to discuss matters of great import. It was here that Mohgwyn’s Sacred Spear, a weapon of immense power and legend, was said to have been forged. Crafted from the heart of a fallen star and blessed by the gods themselves, the spear was said to hold the key to unlocking the Elden Ring, a source of untold power and chaos.
But as with all things of great power, jealousy and greed soon consumed the hearts of those within Roundtable Hold. Betrayal festered like a wound, and a darkness descended upon the fortress, twisting the minds of its inhabitants. The once noble knights turned on each other, their blades stained with the blood of their brothers.
In the midst of this turmoil, the Warden emerged, a figure clad in tattered robes and wielding a staff of twisted wood. His origins were shrouded in mystery, his purpose unknown to all but himself. Some whispered that he was a sorcerer banished from the realms of men, while others believed him to be a lost soul seeking redemption.
Regardless of his past, the Warden took it upon himself to guard the secrets of Roundtable Hold, to ensure that the horrors of the past would never again be unleashed upon the world. He patrolled the crumbling halls and dilapidated chambers, his eyes constantly scanning for any signs of intruders or would-be plunderers.
But even the most vigilant guardians can be deceived, and the darkness that dwelled within Roundtable Hold was patient and insidious. One fateful night, a group of adventurers stumbled upon the fortress, their minds filled with thoughts of treasure and glory. Ignorant of the dangers that lurked within, they pressed forward, their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors.
As they delved deeper into the heart of Roundtable Hold, the adventurers came upon a chamber bathed in an eerie blue light. At its center stood Mohgwyn’s Sacred Spear, its blade shimmering with an otherworldly glow. Entranced by its beauty and power, the leader of the group reached out to claim the weapon for himself.
But as his hand closed around the hilt of the spear, a terrible scream pierced the silence. The walls themselves seemed to groan in agony, and a chill wind swept through the chamber, extinguishing the torches that lined the walls. The leader of the adventurers staggered back, his eyes wide with terror as he beheld the spectral form of a knight standing before him, his armor black as night and his eyes burning with malevolent fire.
“You have trespassed upon sacred ground,” the knight intoned, his voice like the rumble of distant thunder. “You seek power that you cannot control, knowledge that is beyond your understanding. Leave this place now, or face the consequences.”
But the leader, consumed by greed and arrogance, refused to heed the knight’s warning. Drawing his sword, he advanced upon the spectral figure, his companions following close behind. The Warden, sensing the intrusion, appeared suddenly before them, his eyes flashing with a fierce light.
“Begone, intruders!” he cried, his voice resonating with power. “You have no right to defile this place with your presence. Leave now, or suffer the consequences of your folly.”
The adventurers, undaunted by the warnings of the Warden and the spectral knight, pressed forward, their weapons raised and their hearts filled with a lust for power. The air crackled with tension, the very stones of Roundtable Hold seeming to pulse with a malevolent energy.
And then, in a flash of light and shadow, the chamber was consumed by darkness. The screams of the adventurers echoed through the halls, their voices twisted and distorted by some unseen force. And when the darkness finally lifted, Roundtable Hold was silent once more, its secrets sealed within its crumbling walls.
The Warden stood alone amidst the ruins, his eyes staring into the abyss that lay before him. The echoes of the past whispered through the corridors, a haunting reminder of the price of greed and folly. And as he turned to leave, a single phrase echoed through his mind, a warning to all who dared to seek the forbidden knowledge of Roundtable Hold:
“Beware the shadows that dwell within, for they hunger for the souls of the unwary.”
And with that, the Warden vanished into the mists of Torrent, his duty fulfilled and his watch eternal.