Hey. Thank you for your support. I know chapters were supposed to be published on Thursdays, but due to changes in my work and personal life, I'll have to move them to Sundays. So, they'll be released every Sunday now, around this time.
Today I should be adding a chapter/file containing all the information about how the system works for Jon, how it scales, etc.
It will also include stats and Jon's equipment in each chapter, and I'll be updating it regularly.
Quests and their current progression will also be posted there.
Enjoy reading!
"Arise now, ye Tarnished. Ye dead, who yet live. The call of long-lost grace speaks to us all."
Unknown
Lands Between, Limgrave
Stranded Graveyard
Jon Snow
Jon awoke to the feeling of a rock and water beneath him. The wounds covering his body and the pain that accompanied them vanished without a trace, and the only sensation was the discomfort of lying in cold water.
He had thought he heard a woman's voice and the neighing of a horse, but it must have been his imagination or a strange dream.
How was it that he had survived again when he should have been dead? Not only did the strange, glowing crimson inscription "You died" suggest this, but also the fall itself from such a height. The fact that he didn't remember the fall itself, only the plunge into the abyss, added even more mystery.
But he wasn't about to dwell on that while lying on the wet stones. He rose to his knees and then he noticed his reflection in the puddle he was lying in. He stared at it for a moment, waiting for the water, churned by his movement, to calm. Despite the dimness of the place he was in—something he hadn't noticed before because it was too bright in the light of day—a golden light emanated from him.
Or rather, from his left eye. For while his right eye still displayed a bright Stark grey, his left eye glowed with radiant light. It had no pupil, iris, or white but was filled entirely with liquid gold or a golden mist that was constantly in motion.
Moreover, in the centre of the eye, a slightly darker gold, was a symbol composed of several circles intersecting in various places, and through the centre of which ran a vertical line, resembling a tree trunk or an axis. And at the top and bottom of the vertical line, two arcs ran across.
"Damn it. What happened to me?" he whispered, dazed. He closed his right eye for a moment to see if he could still see out of it, but he could see without any problem, and what's more, now looking only through his changed left eye, he could see a strange path in the air made of golden particles that led to a pit nearby.
Something was wrong, for he realised he was in a cave, and it wasn't a place he could fall into. He could only see a single crack in the rock ceiling, and it was too narrow for him to fit through.
In front of him was an exit with stairs leading down, so it wasn't a completely natural cave. However, two other things caught his attention: a tiny golden tree, seemingly an offshoot of the gigantic one he'd seen earlier, and a figure sitting on a chair that seemed too transparent to be alive.
He decided to approach it and try to talk to it, but as soon as he took a step, he noticed four shining bottles lying nearby, so he walked over and took them in his hands. The golden letters flashed before his eyes, forming an inscription.
You receive Flask of Crimson Tears x3
You receive Flask of Cerulean Tears
So he mentally summoned them to his hands. A beautiful bottle, made of gold and glass, the size of his palm, filled with a red liquid, appeared in his right hand, while a similar bottle in his left hand was filled with some blue liquid.
He mentally reached out to them as he had with the previous objects, wishing to see their descriptions, if any. And indeed, the golden inscriptions once again appeared before his eyes.
Flask of Crimson Tears
A sacred flask modelled after a golden holy chalice that was once graced by a tear of life.
Filled with crimson tears, this flask restores body to its peak condition.
Rest at a site of grace to replenish.
The one washed up on the gravesite was sure to die, until this flask
offered its gift of rejuvenation. To seek the Elden Ring.
Flask of Cerulean Tears
A sacred flask modelled after a golden holy chalice that was once graced by a tear of life.
Filled with cerulean tears, this flask restores Focus reserves with use.
Rest at a site of grace to replenish.
The one washed up on the gravesite was sure to die, until this flask
offered its gift of rejuvenation. To seek the Elden Ring.
He learnt nothing of value from these descriptions, except that the last part probably referred to him and indicated that he should search for this Elden Ring.
This reminded him of the monologue he'd heard earlier in the fog. However, he wasn't about to try to recall the words now, for he had to get out of here somehow.
He approached the ghost sitting in the chair, but it didn't seem to even notice his presence.
"Good man, can you hear me?" he asked, reaching out to touch the old man's arm, driven by curiosity. His hand, however, went straight through the man's body. His question seemed to provoke some kind of reaction.
The words emerged from the ghost's mouth: "Brave Tarnished. Take the plunge. Of learning and remembrance. Recall the arts of war. And your warrior's blood."
Jon waited for more, but it seemed he wouldn't get it. When he touched the ghost again, it repeated the exact same words, only to fall silent again. He remembered old Jeor's raven, repeating the same words.
So instead of trying to get something more out of this spirit, he decided to ponder its words. The spirit called it Tarnished, a word he had encountered in the description of a withered finger and heard beyond the mist, but there the voice spoke of many Tarnished Ones.
Fia, some Gideon, Horah, or perhaps Horoah Lux? And Tarnished of no renown. He had an uneasy feeling that the latter might refer to him, suggesting he had been brought here by this whole long-lost grace thing.
He looked around the place again, seeing two tunnels high above him, beyond his reach—though he could probably climb there somehow—leading somewhere deeper into the caverns. And of course, the pit in front of the seated spirit was hard to miss.
He also spotted a message carved into the ground, glowing in silver letters. He approached it curiously, wondering how he had missed it before. But the symbols were incomprehensible to him.
He leaned forward and placed his hand on the stone on which the message was carved, tracing the shape of the carvings. But then the letters glowed brighter, and another message, engraved in gold letters, appeared before his eyes.
The Cave of Knowledge lay below.
"Cave of Knowledge? Hmm," he muttered to himself. It sounded disturbingly intriguing in his situation. He needed nothing more at that moment than knowledge. Knowledge of where he was and what had happened to him.
He approached the crevice and immediately spotted a ledge to his right. The wall itself was also uneven enough that he could climb down it. After scaling the Wall on its vertical face, any other climb seemed easy, and the pit couldn't be more than fifty meters deep.
'Well, all that's left is to go down there,' he thought, then immediately turned right, descending first to the protruding ledge. Ultimately, the descent took him no more than a few minutes.
Only more water and cracked stone coffins awaited him at the bottom, but ahead of him, in the tunnel, a golden light glowed, to which led a bright luminous trail floating in the air.
Dazzling and radiating warmth and security, it reminded him of those rare evenings in Winterfell when Jon was still a few name days old and their father would sit with them by the blazing hearth fireplace and tell them stories of the Starks of old.
As he approached, he saw a golden spark hovering a few centimeters above the ground, but as he got closer, he realized it was shimmering particles of light, forming a golden haze that formed a long teardrop as long as his forearm.
It was the same strange energy in which the defeated spider-like creature transformed after death, but also from which his left eye was now made.
It was as if this luminous energy were emanating from a tiny, rather flat mound of interconnected roots, no more than a few centimetres high, with a hole in the centre, directly above which hovered that golden spark.
Jon, sensing the safety of this place, approached and knelt, subconsciously reaching out to touch the mist of light dancing there.
As soon as his fingers touched this energy, warmth spread from his eye throughout his entire body. It erased any fatigue or even the scratches he'd sustained while descending half-naked to the pit.
The golden letters he'd grown accustomed to reappeared before his eyes.
LOST GRACE DISCOVERED
Site of Grace
Flasks
Status
Laeve
So this place is called 'Site of Grace,' interesting. He moved his hand to the sign that said 'Flask,' and even before touching it, more signs appeared beneath it.
Site of Grace
Flasks:
Create new Flasks:
Flask of Crimson Tears
Flask of Cerulean Tears
Status
Leave
He immediately looked it up, of course. It turned out he could create more bottles of red or blue liquid, but it required something called a Golden Seed. However, he had no idea what it was or where to obtain it.
Then, as he thought of the sign that said 'Status', suddenly a few words in front of his eyes changed into an entire wall of text.
Name: Aerion Sand
Title: Tarnished of no renown
Level: 1
Runes: 25600
Runes required to level up: 336
Lineage: Song of Ice & Fire – You were born with magic flowing through your veins and under the watchful eye of the Outer Gods.
You have an extraordinary facility in learning Spells and Incantations; they are more powerful, faster to cast, and their effects are prolonged. You don't have to limit yourself to memorizing just a few. You have an innate increased resistance to fire and cold.
Trait: The Prince That Was Promised - You are part of the prophecy and inextricably linked to another world. Under the right conditions, you can travel between the two worlds.
Blessing: Eye of the Grace - Graeter Will has rescued you from the influence of two other Outer Beings to make you It Champion. It locked a fragment of Elden Ring in your eye.
The cost of increasing your level with your Maiden is halved. The number of runes you gain is also doubled. You are no longer limited to a single Great Rune.
Focus Points: 221/221
Attributes:
Vigor: 9
Mind: 18
Endurance: 10
Strength: 9
Dexterity: 10
Intelligence: 16
Faith: 26(+10 from Eye of the Grace)
Arcane: 14
Resistance:
Poison - 9%
Scarlet Rot- 9%
Madness - 26%
Sleep - 26%
Blood Loss - 10%
Frostbite - 60% (+50 from Song of Ice & Fire)
Death Blight - 14%
Damage negation:
Holy - 26%
Fire - 59%(+50% from Song of Ice & Fire)
Lightning - 26%
Magic - 16%
Jon stared at the information before him in disbelief, wondering if some god was playing a joke on him, because nothing he read here not only had anything to do with him but also made no sense.
Not only did his first name and bastard surname not match, but the words about some song of ice and fire, innate magic, prince, and being a champion of some Greater Will made no sense. He wanted to scream that this was some kind of joke.
He sat down heavily next to the Site of the Grice, taking his head between his hands. He had to think, because this was too much even for him, especially since he was beginning to realise that this whole status had to apply to him.
Everything was starting to make sense now. Aerion was a Valyrian name, and Sand suggested he was born in Dorne. The only reason he could imagine that name appearing in the status instead of Jon was because Eddard Stark wasn't his father, and the name had been given to him by his real parents.
He knew where this was heading, of course, and now that he thought about it, it all finally made sense. Why his father wouldn't tell him who his mother was, and how on earth the honourable Ned Stark had even fathered a bastard?
His mother was Lyanna Stark, and his father was Rhaegar Targaryen. It was so obvious it was a miracle no one had discovered it before. Eddard Stark should be thankful Jon wasn't born with silver hair and purple eyes. He would probably be dead then.
However, he was still a bastard. Was that because he was the product of rape? So why had his mother, for it must have been her, called him by his Valyrian name? He didn't know, and dwelling on it wouldn't help him at the moment.
Perhaps he would never be able to return to Westeros, though his title suggested otherwise, confirming that he had indeed found himself in some entirely different world, separated from his home.
If he ever managed to return to the Seven Kingdoms, perhaps he would solve the mystery of his birth, or perhaps there would be nothing to return to, for the Others would kill everyone and usher in Eternal Winter.
This time, his gaze fell on the whole Lineage and trait. Melisandre kept calling Stannis the Promised Prince, and this whole song of ice and fire thing might have referred in some way to his Valyrian and Stark blood.
Although he didn't know what they meant, he understood that in a world filled with magic, her training was necessary or at least offered an advantage. He wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
But this whole blessing and what it actually meant to him bothered him. The fact that this Greater Will had taken him in and made him some kind of champion without his consent both worried and irritated him.
He already felt like a pawn of his own gods, who only demanded and gave nothing in return, nothing but his most loyal friend.
This Greater Will had at least given him some meaningful help. He didn't know exactly what this levelling up with the help of some Maiden was all about, but it sounded like some kind of boost.
If what he'd read here was true, the runes he'd received for defeating that previous monster were twice as large as they should have been. He had no idea how it worked yet, but he guessed that if he wanted to use them, he'd have to grow stronger.
He slowly scanned his attributes. He was level 1, so he concluded that it was some sort of lowest rank, and his attributes were interesting. He wondered how something like that could be measured, but he supposed a god had some way of doing it.
So his physical stats were quite weak compared to those clearly related to mind and magic. Mind, and of course, Faith had the highest, which was interesting, because he'd never considered himself a deeply religious person. He believed in the Old Gods, as that's how he'd been raised, but he found himself cursing the gods more often than praying to them, especially lately.
While his high resistances to frostbite and fire pleased him, seeing how low his resistances to something called Madness, Scarlet Rot, or Death Blight were made him anxious. He didn't want to experience any of these things.
He could sit here for hours, though, and it wouldn't change a thing. His primary goal should be to find someone who could help him navigate this world, and he already knew that. Ideally, he would find this Maiden, but one thought nagged at him, raising more questions.
Who was that dead woman in the place where he woke up? Why did she have the finger of someone called Tarnished, just like himself? Was she a Maiden, and if so, was she supposed to help him transform runes into power? And so who killed her… and why?
The answers to these questions would have to wait, however, as the Cave of Knowledge now awaited him.
So he rose, reluctant to leave the safety of the Site of Grace. There was no escape, however. His footsteps carried him deeper into the cave.
He summoned the Ornamental Straight Sword, grasping it in both hands, and didn't have to search long for his first opponent, but this one proved downright weak compared to the Grafted Scion.
It was slow, had poor reactions, and, quite frankly, looked like a living corpse. Withered skin, vacant eyes, an emaciated figure. He had no doubt that this thing had once been human, but now he didn't know what it had become.
However, there was a problem. He and five more similar opponents vanished into thin air, leaving behind no item and, above all, no clothing.
This caused him consternation, which nearly cost him his life. As he emerged from the corridor into the larger chamber, he failed to notice the crossbowman standing on the stone bridge running across it.
And he could only be grateful for the crossbowman's lack of aim, as the bolt missed his left shoulder by mere centimetres.
However, lacking any ranged weapon, he had no choice but to quickly get to the other side.
He hid behind the corridor wall and peered out to check that there was only one crossbowman. Once he was sure, he leaned out to provoke another shot.
Indeed, as soon as the crossbowman noticed him, he aimed his crossbow and sent a bolt in his direction. But whether it was Jon or Aerion - he wasn't sure - he broke forward and ran to the other side of the cave chamber. More enemies were waiting in the corridors, of course.
Of these, only the one with the spear and shield posed any real challenge. No, seriously, he wasn't one. Jon simply grabbed the spear shaft and ripped it from his hands, knocking him off balance, and then severed his head.
And finally, he met the crossbowman, this time face-to-face. He reached him faster than the man could even aim his crossbow and kicked him to the ground, then drove his sword blade into his chest. Like the others, however, he vanished completely, and with him, even his crossbow.
In reality, a truly worthy opponent awaited him only at the end, in an oval chamber filled with water and numerous stone coffins. He might not be exceptionally strong, but he was definitely stronger than the men of Westeros and stronger than himself, and he clearly possessed refined technique and keen intuition.
And although Jon never found himself in a life-threatening situation, constantly controlling the fight, he had to admit that it was the first time in this world that he had actually enjoyed it.
As he plunged the blade of his sword into the gap under his opponent's groin, the golden inscription appeared again.
ENEMY FELLED
Soldier of Godrick
You obtained 4000 runes.
You obtained Spirit Ashes of Rick, Soldier of God
Jon's mind drifted to this new object, which immediately reminded him of the feather he had found earlier that had the word 'ashes' in it.
Rick, Soldier of God
Legendary ashen remains.
Use to summon the spirit of Rick, Soldier of God.
Ashes of a young knight forced into service to a cruel tyrant when he only wanted to serve the true and just God. In the service of the one he will become an indomitable servant.
"Sorry, but it's you who attacked me. And believe me, nothing good comes from serving the gods; I learnt that firsthand. They only demand more and more of you until there's nothing left." His words echoed in the empty cave.
And as for this item. Could he possibly learn in the future about these Spirit Ashes? How use them? He slowly left the cave chamber, and the corridor led him to a ledge overlooking the place where he had awakened. Below, he saw a small golden tree and a spirit sitting in a chair.
Jumping off was out of the question; he wouldn't survive the nearly twenty-metre jump. So he climbed down the rock face, grateful once again that it had so many places to grab onto.
He then headed for the stairs, flanked by carvings of robed figures. When he reached the door, he braced himself and pushed. The thick gate swung open.
He moved slightly to the left, then up a flight of stairs that led him to a large grey stone chamber. In the centre of the chamber was another Site of Grace, which he immediately headed for.
When he touched the floating Grace, the chamber glowed gold for a moment, and the now-familiar inscription appeared before his eyes again.
LOST GRACE DISCOVERED
Now he could focus on the wall of white fog between the pillars to his left, which seemed to block the passage. He approached it and gingerly placed his hand on it.
For a moment, it seemed as if his hand met no resistance, but a second later, the fog seemed to thicken under his touch, forming a solid material.
He examined his surroundings carefully, noting the stone figure of two creatures sitting one on top of the other, jutting out slightly to the left of the fog wall.
He touched it, and a message appeared before him.
You do not have the Stonesword Key in your inventory to open the passage.
"Stonesword Key? Well, I don't know what that key is, but if I can find it, I'll try to return to this place," he muttered to himself, genuinely disappointed. He supposed that since this place was so secure, it must have hidden something valuable.
He also finally discovered the word this Mercy, or Greater Will, called his magical armoury. "Inventory. So be it."
He looked away from the wall of fog and spotted a desiccated body just outside the chamber's exit, but nothing about it caught his attention. So he headed to the next chamber, in the centre of which, surrounded by a colonnade, stood a stone platform.
He also noticed a mechanism with a lever rising from the ground nearby, likely controlling a lift. They had an elevator on the wall, of course, but he couldn't imagine the force it would take to move that stone slab.
He stepped on the protruding slab in the centre, which activated the mechanism. The elevator started to rise, though he was still ready to jump back down to the floor at the slightest hint of a trap.
A moment later, something ground, and the platform stopped, surrounded by more columns, all illuminated only by the strange white flame of a torch.
Seeing the stairs ahead, Jon headed toward them, reaching the metal door. There was only one problem. It had no handle, and what's more, it wouldn't even budge when he tried to push it.
Only when he looked closer did he realise it had no hinges but was instead recessed in the wall.
"You've got to be kidding me. Don't tell me to lift this door up. There must be some kind of mechanism here somewhere," he said with a hint of irritation. Of course, even the stupid door had to be an obstacle here.
And he wasted another few minutes carefully searching each wall but found nothing. So he returned and, as a final act of desperation, stuck his fingers into the small crack separating it from the floor and tried to lift it.
At first, the metal plate serving as the damned door didn't even budge, but when he dropped to one knee and braced himself, it gently lifted.
That was clearly enough, however, for he heard the grinding of a mechanism, and the door began to rise on its own. Jon stared at it in disbelief, for there were a gap about the width of his hand. How on earth had it even budged?
But when he saw what awaited him outside, he immediately forgot about the door.
He could now see the golden tree on the horizon, Erdtree, as he deduced from the inscriptions he'd read. He was certain it must have been at least ten kilometres high, if not more, much more. It was beautiful and radiated an almost palpable warmth.
It lay far on the horizon, slightly to the left, and directly in front of him was the massive castle he had seen earlier, situated on a high plateau. From it stretched a massive stone bridge, kilometres long, leading to a tower that was probably hundreds of metres high, for it clearly towered above the Wall, and Jon had had a good look at it for a long time.
The details of both the castle and the tower were lost in the distance; they must have been dozens of kilometres away. Between them lay plains and hills covered with green vegetation, trees with yellow leaves, and, surprisingly, ruins.
A whole mass of ruins, the most distinctive of which was a clearly ruined temple, or sept, perhaps two kilometres ahead.
To his left stretched the sea, and to his right, a vast lake, also covered in ruins. Its far shore was barely visible on the horizon. He could only see it because it looked like a smaller version of the Golden Tree lying on the other bank, though it only had radiant leaves. It must still have been hundreds of metres tall to be able to see it.
His gaze finally landed on another Site of Grace, a few dozen metres away, and on a figure dressed in white standing even further away.
His first instinct was to approach it, but something held him back. Instinct told him this person was dangerous; he felt the hair on his arms stand on end. Moreover, when he closed his normal eye, leaving only his left eye open, he saw a strange aura, like a red mist pouring from it. And this something gave him a repulsive feeling.
So first, he approached the floating Grace cautiously, keeping his gaze on the figure while simultaneously feeling its gaze on him. He knelt cautiously, his eye gleaming, and the Site of Grace came alive, spreading a golden glow all around.
LOST GRACE DISCOVERED