Itwaskozki

Okay Queelign just gotten more interesting! So user @ereia-lune brought to my attention what Fire Knights really look like:

Very lanky build with arms going below the knees level, like Messmer's body, and red hair like his / curse of the Fire Giants! Like yeah I know I've written like cool analysis on the Fire Knights as characters but I didn't look at the close ups ( 😔 )

Lore says that Fire Knights continue to use Messmer's Fire incantations after his fire failed to find the purchase in them to still share their bond. So, their physical change is apparently result of like.. kinda consanguineal contract with Messmer but flames instead of blood? Or did he give his flames THROUGH blood? Who knows really gfhthc However, Queelign apparently was spared from it! His body type is neglectelable since he uses base NPC model, but making his hair not red is a very bold implication! Perhaps, him not having the red cape like other Fire Knights is also not just a design choice or just for better dexterity, then!

I wonder why he didn't have such contract.. All jokes about even his allies hating him aside, it might be because of him standing out in his fervor. Fire of Ruin (fire giants fire) is literally said to have been an anathema to the Erdtree and thus was the reason Marika wanted to kill it! So if Messmer carries it on, curse karma course of nature conditions of birth whatever is the reason, how would Queelign, THE Marika fanboy, would've reacted if he had a communion with Messmer only to find out that the force to "cleanse" the world of everything going against Marika/Erdtree originates from something that ALSO goes against them like nothing else? It might be not obvious until you sense it in your body, so sure he'd short-circuit upon such an Insight!

Maybe Messmer was willing to spare both Queelign and himself! Black Knight Andreas and his son Huw rebelled against Messmer after learning about his serpentine nature, but Messmer grieved loss of Huw as brother in arms. Maybe he is at the point mentally where he can't handle losing anymore friends, so he'd cherish each and every one even if that meant keeping some things to himself. And like I said before, Queelign feels very much like a window into Messmer's utmost, maybe long regretted and repressed feelings, he is like a little version of himself! He might be annoyed by it, but at the same time maybe wants to protect the absolutely pure, idealistic, puppy-eyed adoration of Marika and feeling like Queelign IS doing something sacred. If he realized the weapon to protect the Erdtree is in actuality the weapon to destroy it, that'd break him, but maybe Messmer wishes he himself didn't know that about his nature. And could still believe he is Marika's true blade. Why not keep Queelign out of it, if at least one of them can remain naive and love her so much and love their purpose so much?

At the same time, it is funny to think about how Queelign is SO absorbed in his purpose that he doesn't even notice he is not invited in the club! XD And whenever he tries to question it, other Fire Knights just go like 'uhhhh noooo you are imagining things..... :/' gfhgfnjn

_________

P.S.: A simpler explanation is probably that he is just new compared to other Fire Knights and is just yet to earn the proper initiation, .....

P.P.S.:

me: Damn Messmer and Queelign are so interesting and I hate it!!! Shipping material if only Messmer and Rellana weren't married XD

ppl who shipped Rykard and Ghiza: I smell stench of weakness?? 🤔

the tyranny of messmer’s flame

Now that i think about it, it's a little funny how Rogier's and D's (Darian) fan mischaracterisation seems to go to opposite directions

People tend to forget (or...miss the info i don't judge, there is a ton of NPC in there can't keep track of all of them) that Rogier's BFF impression is...well an impression. A facade. The few things we learn about him is that he acts with total detachment, and has been doing so for most of his life. His nice smile is as good as a poker face and a deleted side quests shows that being pitied is among the few things that can get him to show some biterness, when not even a terminal disease can get him to drop his facade). His facade has two edges : friendly enough to prevent agression and make conversations easier but distant enough to keep people at arm lenght. Or at least, that's how i see it (for real the last part is just my own interpretation don't quote me on that)

He slighty open up if you follow his questline but he has some manipulative bones in his body ("i can tell a good lie when i want to"). Not saying that the man is evil or something, just that his easy air is a lie. On the other hand people seems to be under the impression that Darian is basically a golden order version of Varré (the man is an hardcore golden order devotee which makes sense in his lore, and there is no doubts it makes him very biased (but tbh not anymore than most people in this story) but also he is never forceful and manipulative (or even mean) about it. ) He is not a walking sunshine but he stays polite, and even praise you sometimes, but he never try to make you join the golden order So basically people forget about Rogier's darker side and about D's nicer side haha

(for real, if you want an actual cinnamon roll, Roderika (Boc too) are there and for forceful cultist and murderous parties, Varré + the volcano manor are right there!)

Don't mistake this as Rogier hate (he is my fave, but his whole psychological mess is part of the package) or as me saying that D is flawless, but it's interesting idk.

I do remember seeing on the dreaded red app some people seeing the "Messmer mourned the loss of a brother-in-arm" quote and the fact that he didn't execute Andreas and Huw as a sign of being merciful but also like. His treatment of them is the opposite of having mercy. He quite literally entombed them alive and left them to starve to death alone if not for the company of stone statues and sorcerers long gone mad

Sheogorath do you have dairy free cheese for lactose intolerant folk such as myself?

no. shit yourself

Hark, Lord Impaler - Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own any of characters or events from Elden Ring.

Author’s Notes: A little 800 words as a start. Just a little setup for the story that our main character will reminisce on quite often. Also, thanks @asianbutnotjapanese for being one of the few people interested!

Summary: Messmer saves a human child during an attack on a hornsent settlement.

Warnings: Violence, depictions of blood/wounds, depictions of war

Smoke swirled in the air like an evil veil, heavy and black, shrouding the town once bustling with everyday activity in a menacing darkness. The light illuminating the streets was not that of the setting sun, but the red glow of wild flames. The air was thick with the smell of burning; burning buildings, burning flesh. Charred bodies littered the ground, others were still dying. The wailing of women and children pierced through the clashing of steel and shouting of soldiers like the swords and spears ripping through bellies.

Messmer the Impaler watched this chaos ensue with no expression. The hornsent at his feet spasmed, attempting to curse his killer with its final breath, but all that came out was gurgling nonsense as blood bubbled from its mouth. The leader of the crusade pulled his wicked spear from the hornsent– its blood pooling at his feet– death throes now finished. 

Be it one man, be it a whole city; even the most horrific killing could become nothing more than a chore, given time.

The red serpents craned their heads around, observing the genocide– for this was no battle– on behalf of Messmer. Messmer saw through their eyes, as they were one with his body since birth, and he had no eyes of his own. Not anymore. Not since his mother gouged his only working eye and replaced it with her own seal. His fist gripped his spear tighter as his mind drifted to that memory. 

No, he should not feel anger, or dare he say hurt. That had been for the best. He was a danger to his mother and her Golden Order otherwise. He was a monster, and she had been right to seal that dark serpent away inside of him. Mother understood though, and would let him into her golden lands soon enough. Just as soon as he avenged her people.

A serpent hissed and Messmer blinked his way back to reality to see a child, wrists bound in rope, raise a dagger and plunge it into the back of her captor. The demigod raised his hand to kill her with his cursed fire when he realized she slew a hornsent, not one of his men. Not just a child, but a human child, and therefore someone he was obligated not to kill, perhaps even save.

The girl was rather scrawny, covered in grime and blood, and could be no older than four and ten. Perhaps the hornsent had taken her to be stuffed in a jar and melded as the savages did with so many.  Her eyes were wide with fear that was only amplified tenfold when she saw Sir Messmer. She trembled from terror and exhaustion but otherwise didn’t move, torn between awe and horror at the sight of the demigod until something finally pulled her attention away from him and had her try to run. She didn't make it far before she tripped over an object concealed with soot. The ash plastered to her skin as she wildly turned around to see a towering horned warrior of the hornsent slowly approach her, raising its great iron sword to cleave her in half, paying Messmer no mind, if it had seen him at all.

Messmer threw his spear at the warrior, killing it in a single shot. The spear skewered the hornsent with a splatter of blood and lodged itself firmly into the ground until the Impaler summoned it back to his hand. The body fell to the ground with a thud. He ambled to where the girl had fallen and let a serpent extend to allow him a better look. Her body lay limp and unconscious, her breathing rasped softly, the only indication of life in her yet. Blood– whether it was her own or another’s– had seeped into her clothes, dying the shawl around her shoulders a dark red, as if a gruesome mockery of Messmer’s own garment. Perhaps it was a sign from Marika. If so, it was a cruel one, but– he thought with a grimace– it was not outside of his mother’s nature to be cruel…far from it.

Her eyes fluttered open briefly and she groaned in pain. Messmer took a moment to locate one of his men, simultaneously noticing the battle was beginning to dwindle like the flames devouring the buildings. 

“Soldier,” he addressed the first of his men to come close, “Dost deliver this child unto one who may tend to her health.”

The soldier nodded in acknowledgment and came to carefully lift the girl in his arms and carry her off. Messmer watched as they faded out of view into the mist of cinders and ash. Once he had gotten to regrouping his troops and having it made sure that no hornsent remained alive, the girl was quickly forgotten. She did not cross his mind again until they were far from the smoldering ruins.

The Impaler looked at his most trusted knights, their armor gleaming, scarlet capes flowing behind them, untouched by most of the filth of battle. He thought again of the girl’s blood-soaked cloth and decided to thank his mother for the supposed sign.

Perhaps there was use to be made of that child yet.

Drew my new profile picture on Procreate. Still can’t figure out digital art, but I’d say I did pretty good. Couldn’t make the colored version of the eyes look good, but this looks alright.

Yea. It’s great. Mhm.

People playing Elden Ring and looking for the "good" demigod to root for are missing the point. Pick your favorite mass murdering war criminal megalomaniac with mommy issues and endlessly simp for them like the rest of us, cowards.

Since Messmer is descendant of shaman flesh, he was not born with the two buddy snakes. They became friends in his childhood, getting close to him by sensing his serpentine nature and some sort of kinship. They were not physically attached to him then, but in time, when his flesh started to see spontaneous wound (because of the suppression of the base serpent’s power in flesh), they stayed close to him for support… a bit too close… at the point to becoming fused with him. It was willingly. After that thy were trying to be of service as his eyes, and comfort, as his friends and advisors, already deciding to follow him even toward a doomed path. It was loyalty at first, It was for love at last.