As Adrian headed north toward the church, he traversed the clearing of lush green grass that separated him from his destination, dotted sporadically with majestic yellow trees. The sunlight bathed the landscape, casting a warm glow upon the vibrant hues of nature's tapestry.
It was amidst this picturesque setting that Adrian's eyes caught sight of a figure that stood out from the serene surroundings. His gaze settled on an abnormally large man mounted atop an equally imposing black-furred horse.
The duo commanded attention, draped in glistening golden armor that encased them from head to toe. The armor shimmered in the sunlight, its ornate design hinting at a formidable presence.
The man sat tall and proud upon his steed. His massive frame seemed almost otherworldly, a testament to the supernatural beings that inhabited the realm of Elden Ring. In one hand, he tightly grasped a large, round shield adorned with intricate patterns, while in the other, he wielded a halberd with a gleaming golden blade.
Adrian's heart skipped a beat as recognition flooded his mind. With a thousand yards stare, Adrian met the knight's gaze and recognized him as the Tree Sentinel, one of the earliest optional bosses in the game.
Memories of the many times the Tree Sentinel wiped the floor with his in-game character flooded Adrian's mind, sending a shiver down his spine. Looking at the formidable boss was enough to make Adrian see illusions of the game's death screen overwhelming his vision.
"No thanks," Adrian muttered to no one in particular, shaking off the nostalgic but ill-fated reminiscence. He was no longer the naive player he once was, having learned his lesson the hard way.
There was zero chance for Adrian to even think about facing the Tree Sentinel now that he stood before the golden knight in the flesh. Resolute in his decision, he turned away from the Tree Sentinel, opting for a more prudent path around the imposing figure.
Even as Adrian averted his gaze, he could feel the weight of the Tree Sentinel's presence lingering. The knight's watchful eyes seemed to follow him, their piercing gaze filled with a mix of curiosity and caution. The Tree Sentinel returned to his patrol, his attention momentarily diverted but ever vigilant.
...
Following the glimmering specks in the air, Adrian upped his pace until he reached his destination—the decaying ruins of the once-grand church. Time showed no kindness to this structure, reducing it to little more than a skeletal frame. Stone walls stood precariously, their weathered surfaces bearing the weight of history and the ravages of nature.
The interior of the church was a testament to the passage of time. The floor, once trodden by the Golden Order's devotees, was now reclaimed by nature. Overgrown grass carpeted the ground, intertwining with shrubbery and young trees that had found refuge within the crumbling walls. The vibrant greenery provided a stark contrast against the aged stones, breathing life into the desolate space.
At the center of the dilapidated church, a dormant Site of Grace stood silently, its latent power waiting to be activated. The site emanated a faint golden glow, attracting the golden specks that guided the young man.
Ahead, Adrian's eyes fell upon a man who leaned against a weathered pillar, basking in the warmth of a bone fire. The man's attire stood out vividly against the somber surroundings—a bright red ensemble that appeared heavy and durable. He covered half of his face with a cloth, obscuring his features, but his intense gaze held an air of caution and experience as he played the rebab-like instrument in his hand.
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Behind the man stood his faithful mount, a donkey burdened with a towering stack of luggage. The animal seemed unfazed by the weight it carried, a testament to its resilience and strength. The belongings atop the donkey's back hinted at the man's nomadic lifestyle, carrying his tools and supplies for survival.
Ignoring everything, Adrian wasted no time and activated the dormant Site of Grace, empowering himself with its mystical energy before confidently approaching the red-clad merchant.
Before Adrian could say anything, the man's voice broke the silence, his keen eyes assessing him from head to toe. "You're a Tarnished, I can see it," the merchant stated matter-of-factly. Adrian's appearance gave away his status in these lands, marked as one of the Tarnished—individuals bound to seek the Elden Ring.
The man's gaze lingered on Adrian for a moment longer before continuing, "I can also see that you're not after my throat." There was a hint of relief in the merchant's voice, a testament to the dangers he must have faced in these treacherous lands.
Curiosity piqued, Adrian inquired, "Why would anyone be after your throat?" His confusion was genuine, as the merchant's amiable demeanor didn't seem to warrant hostility.
With a wry smile, the man replied, "Such is the lot of a merchant in these lands. One is bound to have a few enemies when they deal in the peculiar and extraordinary." He paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before adding with a mysterious chuckle, "It's a long, unpleasent story... and maybe you'll figure it out on your own in your journey..."
Adrian shrugged, not wishing to pry further, and instead, he gestured toward the array of items displayed before him. "Alright then, show me what you have for sale," he requested, his eyes scanning the peculiar wares with genuine interest.
The merchant nodded and began showcasing his intriguing selection. There were many peculiar items, but Adrian picked a crafting kit—a leathery pouch containing simple tools for fashioning equipment. Next was a gleaming telescope that promised to reveal distant secrets of the land.
Finally, he picked three cracked jars, each empty and not much to look at but radiating strange energy.
Adrian's eyes gleamed with excitement as he made his choices. He decided on the crafting kit to aid him in his journey through the unknown, the telescope to scout ahead, the three jars for their necessity to craft bombs, and the three cookbooks to learn many recipes.
Satisfied with his selections, Adrian turned to the merchant, asking how he should pay for the items. As a newcomer to the Lands Between, he knew runes were the main currency, but he had no clue how to use them.
The merchant smiled and explained, "Runes are the currency here. It's simple; touch my hand, and the runes will transfer from you to me..." He extended his hand, a gesture of trust, and Adrian hesitated before placing his palm against the merchant's own.
Adrian's hand made contact with the merchant's, and a radiant glow enveloped their intertwined palms. Adrian's eyes widened as he sensed the flow of runes leaving him, dissipating into the ethereal energy that connected them. It was an unexpected turn of events.
The merchant's expression darkened slightly as the glow subsided, a frown etching across his face. Releasing Adrian's hand, he sighed and spoke bluntly, "You're a hundred and twenty-three runes short."
Adrian's embarrassment washed over him as he realized his miscalculation. He had been so engrossed in the array of items and the allure of the merchant's wares that he had failed to account for the cost of his choices.
However, in a moment of quick thinking, Adrian's mind darted to the two-handed sword he had looted from the Godrick Soldier at the end of the tutorial area. Pulling it out from his inventory, he presented the gleaming weapon to the merchant. It was a formidable piece of craftsmanship, a relic of his early exploits in this unfamiliar realm.
The merchant's eyes sparkled with interest as he appraised the sword, running his fingers along its blade and inspecting its intricate details. After a moment of consideration, he nodded approvingly. "This will do," he declared, accepting the weapon as an alternative form of payment.
"I'm Kale, by the way, purveyor of fine goods..." The merchant said as he sat and resumed playing his instruments. "You're welcome here anytime, granted you have the runes..." He added with a chuckle.
"I'm Adrian. I'll definitely be back if I need to buy anything..." Adrian replied with a grin.
With their brief business concluded, Adrian pollitely excused himself from the merchant's presence. He turned his attention toward the anvil in the corner of the ruined church, its surface cluttered with tools and remnants of previous craftsmanship.
Approaching the anvil, Adrian knelt and carefully lifted a small, worn smithing stone at its base. It wasn't much to look at, but it was a good start. He quickly deposited the stone into his inventory and rose to his feet.
With nothing else to do at the church, Adrian took his leave.
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