"With a great jolt of sudden energy, I awoke. A knight, clad in rustic armor, peered at me through the grating above. In this world, light was a scarcity. The knight blocked my only sense of warmth. Surrounded by the moans and cries of ghouls and hollows, one quickly loses track of time, and the world of sanity and insanity begin to intermingle. If you weren't mad, the asylum and its residents would have made you.

The knight paced back and forth. It was clear he was looking through each of the cells from the grating above, but the visor of his helm hid all countenance, his intensions unknown. In his final lap, the knight's gait grew slow. His large and cumbersome (fat) fingers fumbled and dropped the keys into my cell. Damn, he cursed.

The keys fell before my sprawled body with a great clink. There it laid, my salvation, my freedom. However, the ring of keys laid there, untouched for a matter of days. After spending an eternity in a cell, undying, depraved of all sensations in that dour prison, haunted by the screams of your neighbors, and resistant to maladies, it was difficult to muster the courage to step out of the cell. Here, I knew all four corners of my world. I knew of every grime covered tile and named every rat. The world beyond my cell door was too expansive and frightening.

Finally, upon the fifth day of contemplation, I reached for the keys and unlocked my cell. With each step, I felt invigorated, life returning to these foreign limbs of mine. I nearly stumbled a few times avoiding their clutches of claws and limbs that grasped at me through the cells, each one beckoning me to stay.

What awaited me at the end of the hall was a ladder. It was moss-covered and a few steps were missing, but still climbable. Rays of sunshine shone through and I knew this would be my salvation.

Sunlight enveloped me and as I lit my very first bonfire, a heavenly voice said 'Checkpoint reached.'

I had never taken a good look at my body before then, the cell offered too little light. I could now see all that adorned my undying skin and bones were a few strands of a ripped tunic. Though, it hid what needed to be hidbut, with the starved carcass of a man, there was not much to hide.

Grand oak doors stood before me. 'My very first challenge' I thought. However, the two doors were not as heavy as they seemed and my frail body pushed it open with little difficulty. Hope renewed, I could see a grand adventure before me. I stepped into the courtyard with a great stride and vigor until a great shadow covered me.

I looked up to see a grand posterior quickly closing the distance. Crushing under the weight, I had my first experience with a BAM.

YOU DIED"

The warrior finished his reminiscent tale of his first adventure, albeit with his own twists and turns for added humor. He had hoped to entertain the Fire Keeper, who was his eager and captivated audience.

The warrior turned his head to now face the Fire Keeper. She was fast asleep. So much for the grand story of my first adventure, the warrior thought to himself. Oh, well… My stories could be told time and time again. But there weren't as many chances to gaze upon the serene face of the Fire Keeper.

The warrior whispered, "Pleasant dreams, my dear Fire Keeper," as he reached his hand through rusty metal bars and grasped hers, to ward off nightmares. His eyelids grew heavy, consoled by their touch, and soon drifted off to sleep.

A/N: BAM is a reference to the MMORPG Tera, meaning, quite literally, "Big Ass Monster." I have dabbled with creative writing before (only horror), so this is my first experience with fanfic. I wasn't sure how I wanted to craft this world of Lordran in my story, so chapter 1 described the world and chapter 2 is dedicated to recount the warrior's first experience in this world. From a more realistic perspective, Lordran is a dreary world filled with nothing but dangers and lurking motifs. But anyone who has actually played Dark Souls knows how playful and comical the community is. I tried to instill some of that "humor" into the story, though it may sound a bit forced. I'd like to say that the forced humor was a result of the warrior telling the story, but in the end I am the narrator, haha. There also wasn't much Anastacia in this chapter as it was supposed to be a "peek" into the future of the warrior's relationship with her. The story had a different feel to the one I imagined so I will end it here. I have ideas about continuing this relationship between the chosen one and Anastacia, but that will be through her perspective and in another story.