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My journey beyond the Asylum walls has been...unwelcoming. I've encountered many, their faces etched with the same weary resignation as my own. A few, however, show signs of a different path. Petrus, bless his soul, offered his guidance. He spoke of miracles, of bolstering faith in the Lords. Though I wonder, are there any Gods left to believe in, in this forsaken land?
That Crestfallen Warrior, he mocks my quest relentlessly. He scoffs, calls it a futile endeavor, his laughter echoing through the hollows. I am a fool, he says, a child playing at heroism. But even he cannot snuff out the fire in my heart. His doubts fuel me.
Undead Burg. What a grim name for a grimmer place. I pushed onwards, only to be met by a terrifying specter—a red ghost! Petrus had spoken of such things, 'Invaders', he called them, undead like myself, yet from another world. It was a harsh lesson. My life was forfeit before I could reach the next bonfire. But...I will return. The fire of Firelink Shrine awaits.