Yes, indeed, it is called Lothric

Where the transitory lands of the Lords of Cinder converge

In venturing North

The Pilgrims discover the truth of the Old Words

"The fire fades"

And the Lords go without thrones

When the link of Fire is threatened

The Bell tolls

Unearthing the old lords of cinder from their graves

Aldrich, Saint of the Deep,

Farron's Undead Legion, the Abyss Watchers,

And the reclusive lord of the Profaned Capital, Yhorm the Giant,

Only in truth, the Lords will abandon their thrones

And the Unkindled will rise:

Nameless, accursed undead; unfit even to be cinder

And so it is - that ash seeketh embers.

* * *

I died. I definitely died. Driven through the gut with a spear, beheaded by an enemies axe, burned to cinders by a wyverns flame. The method of my demise didn't matter. What mattered was the mere fact that I had died at some point.

So why. . .why was I alive, sitting up in my coffin among the nameless dead? Who was I? Where was I? When was I?

All these boggling questions swarmed through my hollow mind until I was shaken to my senses. I needed to move. Something urged me to.

I stood, my scrawny legs nearly buckling after what must have been days of inactivity. I looked at my naked body. A thin, depraved husk of what it might have been once before. My hair had grown out, reaching all the way down to my lower back, and my nails resembled cat claws. I was definitely gone for a long time. But ruminating on it now was no good. I had to move.

Trudging through the wet mud, and passing by the hundreds of other untended graves, I spotted another person. A man, garbed in a black cloak, shambling aimlessly with a drunken and half-dead stupor. I froze, crouching low on instinct and spying the stranger meticulously. Their mouth hung agape, drool spilling down their chin. It didn't take a scholar to figure out this thing was no human. Now, it fell on me to make a decision. Should I fight, or should I flee? Suddenly, spots flittered in my vision, bright, orange runes that lingered at my feet like flames. The moment my eye caught them, memories flooded into my spongy brain. Visions of battles, bloodshed, myself - moving swiftly as if I'd done it thousands of times.

I rushed the stranger, catching sight of the gleaming dagger arcing towards my neck. I back stepped, moving clumsily around the mindless thing. It kept swinging at nothing, so I took the opportunity and went for the take down.

If I'd been even a second late, my throat would've been slit. We went to the ground, wrestling in the inky marsh. I may have been weak and my muscles atrophied, but this creature was many times weaker, and I easily gain the upperhand, prying the dagger from it's fingers and plunging the blade deep into it's neck. The monster gurgled on it's own blood before falling limp. I found that I felt no remorse for the murder. Was I a killer? Maybe I was executed for my crimes, but miraculously survived.

No, I thought, what I killed was a monster. That being said, where had I gained such battle instinct? If I were some milquetoast, run-o-the-mill commoner, I'd have been the one with dagger in my neck. Maybe I was a sellsword. . .or a knight!

I mused on my possible origins until the little orange lights appeared again, pulling my attention farther down the marshy cemetery. I followed them past countless graves and coffins; some of which were empty, and others so derelict they looked nigh ancient.

Ahead, I could just make out the glimpse of a cloudy sky through the narrow cleave in the rock face. Looking upwards, I could make out man-made structures, possibly that of a great partition, but it was too foggy to be certain. I trekked on, leaving the gloomy cemetery and breaking out into open sky.

Despite the grey colour wash, the view was breathtaking. An immensely expansive vista of mountains, spanning out as far as my eyes could see. They were capped in layer of snow, their peaks reaching high above the thick fog below. I knew now that I was somewhere high. A cemetery somewhere in the heavens?

The warm lights beckoned me once again, pulling my attention from the mountain range and towards what seemed to be a massive bell tower off to the left. Refuge, I thought, and maybe some answers. That was my destination, and with determination, I squeezed the hilt of my newly acquired dagger and trekked onwards.

* * *

The path before me was surprisingly void of life, and that included the corpse-like monster I'd faced. I skirted the high cliffs, climbing over the odd casket and taking care not to plummet to my doom. I doubted the mountains below would take too kindly to my body shattering against them.

After hopping down some small ledges, the lights urged me towards what appeared to be a cobblestone gate. I made my way overtop roots, going through the gate and stepping out into circular amphitheater; the only spectators being the dried skeletons of generations past.

That's when my eyes fell on the hulking brute kneeling in the center; like a judge awaiting his challenger. I took a shaky step, instinctively raising my dagger and studying for any sign of movement. Thankfully, the thing seemed dead, a hefty sword shoved all the way through it's armored gut. In a stroke of bravery, I glided my fingers along it's hilt, the rust flaking off and falling to the pool at my feet. I eyed the dead warrior's armor; massive, with ornate carvings and an expertly crafted helmet that depicted a chiseled face, now worn and rusted with age.

That sword. That alluring, spell binding sword. I don't know what it was that enticed me, but when my fingers began wrapping around it's hilt, I found I couldn't sate them.

Before I even realized what had happened, I held the sword; it's blade coiled and dripping black ooze.

And at that very instant, I also noticed the black, churning growth at the base of the colossus' neck.

Then the goliath itself began to churn, awakening from it's slumber and rising to it's feet. It towered over me, blocking out the sunlight and bathing me in a grim shadow. I instantly knew that I'd made a grave mistake. One that would undoubtedly cost me the new life I'd received. It hoisted a massive glaive from the earth, one that I'd failed to notice previously, and brandished the thing like a true warrior. Meanwhile, I meekly lifted the old, nigh unusable sword I'd purloined, and trembled not only because of how heavy the weapon was, but because I was down right terrified. The orange lights buzzed around me like locusts, trying to get my attention, but to no avail. I was completely and utterly gripped with fear.

The glaives bladed end raced towards my head, and any second I'd find out what death was truly like.

My body moved on it's own, dropping to the floor and scrambling away just as earth and rubble exploded where I once stood. I was blinded for a moment, water and debris shrouding my attacker, but in one mighty sweep, the cloud was dispersed, and second attack thundered towards me. I raised the coiled sword, and moments later I was weightless, flying through the air from the sheer force of the impact. I felt my wrist snap, and when I hit the ground, my ankle. The pain wasn't unbearable, thanks to the adrenaline coursing through me, but the sight of my hand twisted backwards made me sick.

The judge was relentless, leaping through the air and plunging down in an attempt to skewer me. The lights filled the right side of my vision, and without thinking, I rolled over like a log. I felt the impact through the ground, and was blown even farther than I wanted to go. The sword left my hands, skittering beneath an old coffin. I heard the warrior stomping towards me again, and panicked, forcing myself up without so much as a pause to think. It was do or die, and those inborn senses I had stored away kicked into full drive now of all times. With my one good leg, I hobbled like my life depended on it; because it did.

The judges pounding footsteps thundered closer and closer, and I knew for sure if I took any longer to reach my destination, I'd be torn asunder.

I saw his massive shadow casting down ontop of me, and without even seeing it, I knew his glaive was directly above my head.

I dove, rolling beneath the same coffin my sword had skittered to. I felt the shock of his weapon crashing down on the rotted wood, and saw as a sliver of silver steel emerged above me. But the coffin was enough to slow the fall of his weapon, and in that split moment, I knew what I had to do.

The coffin exploded in a shower of splinters and dust, and from the dust, I emerged, the coiled blade position in my one functioning hand like a herald's spear. With all the might that resided within my frail body, I drove the spear forth, my throat quaking with a primal battle roar.

The judge fell to one knee, the sword firmly implanted within his helm. I adjusted my feet, got in close, and tore the weapon brutally from his face. Dark, putrid blood flowed like I'd struck oil, blinding me and filling my mouth and nose. I gagged, retching and purging the vile stuff from my mouth and eyes.

I felt the orange lights trying to draw my attention, but the thick sludge obscuring my vision was unmoving. I bent low, running my hands through the puddle and splashing the water into my face.

I heard a distinct churning, like rushing water. Only. . .the puddle at my feet remained stagnant.

I dragged my eyes upwards, towards what should've been the warriors bloodied corpse. Well, whether he was a corpse before or after I felled him was irrelevant, because the black growth on the nape of his neck writhed. A cry akin to steel scraping against steel split the air, and in a massive explosion of tar and waste, the growth erupted from the warrior's shoulder, engulfing it's entire arm and lifting it off the ground. Now, I stared into the inky face of a demon, the black growth spawning a serpentine face, with eyes like points of hellfire.

Before I could even pray - nay - before I could even blink, I was being lifted off the ground, the coiled sword falling from my grasp. My last hope of survival splashing into the pool below. I felt the things inky talons dig into my flesh, but the pain was only an afterthought.

They say, when you stare into the face of death, your entire life plays out before you in an instant.

I saw nothing.

I thrashed, biting and clawing and spitting like a caged beast.

I didn't want to die. I didn't want to face my death without a life to remember.

Then I was weightless, the monster growing farther and farther away.

It wasn't until I hit the ground that I realized I'd been tossed away like trash. I couldn't move. I couldn't even cry out. My broken body simply lay there, unresponsive, as if my very will had bled out. It was also oddly blissful. Watching the behemoth lurch closer and knowing that the pain would soon end. My short life was one of death, suffering, and return to death. Maybe this time. . .I wouldn't awake to this nightmare again. . .

The beast thundered towards me, and as my vision blurred and swam with vibrant orange hues, I actually did catch a glimpse of something. A memory, maybe? A mother, holding a child in arms, and like a candle that's been burning for an entire night, the image began melting away. A gloved hand reached out for them, until that to, melted away like candle-wax.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, your wings will burn in anguish. Time after time. For that is your fate. The fate of the cursed.

I was cursed. Cursed to watch the fleeting enigma of a memory fade from existence as my death grew closer. Death. Did death even matter? Would I. . .would the suffering truly end?

I felt a soft, sudden warmth in my chest, like an ember from a flame once great. That ember flickered weakly within my bosom, an insignificant speck, yet with the potential to become something great.

I was reminded of my desire to live.

My desire to die with a happy memory to hold on to.

The monsters dark talon rushed downwards to land the coup de gras.

I would not die. I'd cherish this new life I was granted.

I rolled to the side, so that the attack crashed down just near my face. The beast, enraged, channeled its power into the fallen armor, and rushed towards me with glave in hand. It moved like ice, and without hesitation, I simultaneously twirled away from the weapons blade whilst drawing that meek dagger from my belt.

Seconds later, it stuck out from the black beast's hate-filled eye. I had to end it now. I raced for the coiled blade lying on the ground. My very lifeline only a finger's reach away. If I made a mistake now - I'd be dead. Simple as that. But I would not die. I must not die.

I felt monsters breath against the back of my neck.

I spun around, thrusting the coiled sword forwards with a powerful roar.

Silence.

I dropped to my knees, my fingers slipping from the weapons charred hilt.

"Fall, vile beast."

The black mass retreated back into the warriors armor, and like a stone, the armor dropped to the ground. Dead.

I hit the ground, my shallow breaths the only indication that I hadn't died of exhaustion. My vision went in and out of focus, but still, I was able to discern my blood pooling around me from the dirty water I lay in. Funny enough, I felt no pain, even as I lay broken and bloody. It was as if my slaying of the brute had ended my suffering. Even without happy memories, at least I'd die knowing I'd achieved a single victory. . .

Like I flame being ignited, the small speck in my chest roared to life. Warmth rushed over my body, and for an instant the orange lights flittering in my vision blinded me like the sun. It felt like I was flying. Like I'd grown the wings of a dragon and took to the sky. Like I was one with the sky. I was just reminded of my desire. I was consumed by it. I wanted to live. I wanted a happy memory.

I rose to my feet, my wounds seemingly healed and my mind clear. I peered down at my body. What once was a near skeletal husk, now had form. My breasts had swelled considerably, along with my legs, arms and hips. I wasn't overly muscular, but I found that my body was lean and toned, as if chiseled from titanite. Not only that, but I felt stronger. I went to retrieve the coiled sword, hoisting it almost effortless with both hands and throwing it over my shoulder.

Slaying the brute must have activated some form of sorcery, I thought to myself. Maybe now I'd stand a chance. 

I peered forth, at the mighty belltower in the distance, and wasted no time heading for it. I was long overdue for some answers. 

And I'd wager I'd get some soon.