0ttonomous
Self-Proclaimed Seeker of Truth
A man in rugged leather armor trudged through the depths of an abandoned tomb, torch in one hand and spear in the other. Beneath him were countless bones, and every step he took resulted in a dreadful crack that echoed across the room. "Damn... what did I come here in search of?" Patches mumbled to himself, his eyes squinting in the darkness. He could feel the last drops of his sanity fading with every breathe he took. It made him shiver. But he forced himself to keep moving, searching for something he couldn't even remember. The only thing he knew was that he had to keep moving.
His leg tripped over something metallic, but he caught himself just in time. He stared down at the bloodied armor that he had stepped on, his eyes appraising the various trinkets that adorned its fingers and neck. Suddenly, it all came back to him, and he smiled wickedly. "Sorry, old friend," he said, aiming the point of his spear to the corpse's neck. The body twitched and moaned suddenly, reaching for Patches, but was swiftly impaled. "That treasure's no good to you now, is it mate? Guess I'll be taking it back then." He rummaged through the various bags and pouches, looting anything he could find and putting it in his own rucksack.
That was, until, he heard the sound of weapon slicing through the air. He immediately got up and turned around, trying to deflect whatever it was that threatened his life. Before he could do anything, he tumbled to the ground, blood spewing from a laceration on his chest. A blue specter, no doubt an Arbiter of Vengeance, walked toward Patches, its longsword dripping with blood. "Curses... I'm finished..." Patches gasped as blood drained from his mouth, feebly planting his hands on the ground in an attempt to push himself up. He closed his eyes as the spirit prepared its blade again--
--
A jolt of pain. Eternal darkness. So this is what it felt like to be Hollow.
Or so he thought.
Patches snapped up from his bed like he was late for a day job. His eyes darted around the room, a scowl on his face. He looked down at his hands, flexing each individual finger. Eventually, his expression softened as he let out a deep sigh. "Haven't lost my marbles yet! Heh heh heh," the bald man cackled, covering his face with his hand.
He returned to a normal sitting posture, scooching to the edge of his bed. He looked around the surroundings with a curious look on his face, thinking that it was ironic finding himself trapped in a labyrinth of someone else's creation. This did not phase him, however. He took a deep breath and sighed away all of his doubts. A new awakening, a new opportunity.
His eyes eventually locked onto the small girl that rested upon a duplicate bed. "Well, you look reasonably sane," he muttered to himself as he approached. "Oi. What business does a young girl like you have around these parts? ...Wherever we are."