[center][h2][color=Mediumslateblue]Arghast, Herald of the Abyss[/color][/h2]

[hider= ]

[img]http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2010/324/b/e/orc_berserker_by_unsmoking_cigarette-d339bo4.jpg[/img]

[/hider]

[/center]

So long had Arghast been privy to the absolute silence of New Londo; the only voices which had pervaded the confines of that dread helmet were those of Caitlyn, and the whispers which floated about the ruins, forgotten utterances of agony in their ancient fate. He hesitated, perhaps longer than he should have, at these new voices. 

Freeing himself from this vexation, his voided gaze turned from the Firekeeper to each undead as they spoke in turn. Arghast made several small strides to end up beneath the trunk of that withered tree which dangled its appendages above the wispy flame. He'd failed outright to keep from startling the group in one way or another; that grim skull now aimed towards the most anxious of the undead, a young soul clad in practical, unembellished armor, and one who channeled his temperament through the hilt of his blade.

Looking back to the colossus of a man, to whom Arghast stood only somewhat slightly shorter, who had greeted him, he spoke. His words, partially muffled by the sickening helmet encased about his head, were spun from a rough, older voice and manner of speech which carried a fatigued tone.

"[color=Mediumslateblue]I thank you..[/color]", he uttered, "[color=Mediumslateblue]..and implore you not find my demeanor chary.[/color]" Arghast moved, slowly, to sit upon the upgrounded roots of the tree, laying his sword to the stone while keeping a hold of his axe. The empty estus flask, which clanked lightly against the shattered stone steps, settled itself at his side as he sat. His head dipped, appearing to stare into the otherworldly ember of the bonfire, his hidden eyes, however, drifted upwards to examine each undead.

"[color=Mediumslateblue]Nary so many a souls as this have I seen before..miraculous.[/color]".