A practice story that probably could be better. A friend of mine missed one of the best parts of the Dark Souls game, and was pretty surprised to see just how tragic Sif was. After some discussion I said as a joke I'd give something like this a shot, and so here I am. As a little practice I whipped up a story rather than just simple vore. It's weak here cause I ain't in the swing of things yet, and I just kinda wanna throw out something. Like how an artist sketches something that's not meant to have all their effort put into something, this would be my sketch I suppose.

See for yourself
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3f8uoUlEo4c

It Has To Be This Way

You, the chosen undead have conquered all that have stood before you. You have slain the Asylum Demon, and escaped the Undead Asylum to Lordran. You have killed the Bell Gargoyles and rang the first bell of awakening. The second bell required you to kill the Chaos Witch Quelaag, only to take away the caregiver of her dear helpless sister. You bested Sens Fortress, as well as had the phantom of Iron Tarkus topple the Iron Golem. Not even the duo of Dragon Slayer Ornstien and Executioner Smough could stop your determination, despite being the toughest challenge yet.

Once you had rung the two bells, the serpent Frampt appeared before you in Firelink Shrine. Your final quest was bestowed upon you. Collect the Lord Souls for your newly obtained Lordvessel, and most importantly, succeed Lord Gwyn. Fulfilling your destiny as the chosen, ended the madness of Seath the Scaleless, The annoying With of Izalith, and killed the god of death Nito. Other monsters stood in your way, but one way or another; they soon succumbed to your undying will.

Time in Lordran is convoluted. Before you could seek out the final Lord Soul, a dark hand had brought you to an age long since past. This was no waste of time, but a glimpse to see what had fallen of Oolacile. You knew what befell this place, would sooner or later consume Lordran. Your skill had grown substantially as the chosen undead. Not even the Legendary Knight Artorias could stop you. Artorias’ final words spoke of being consumed by the dark. He had clearly not been himself.

Traveling down the Chasm of the Abyss, you sought to face the source of the dark. A strange cat creature caught your eye. It was Alvina, the leader of the forest covenant. Following her lead you an illusionary wall. Following this path you uncovered more of what happened to Artorias. There lay Sif, his wolf companion. He was protected by a massive great shield as humanity phantoms surrounded the pup. Not particularly tough in the least, you killed the phantoms with your trusty sword.

The poor pup looked up to your eyes. Never had you seen such sadness before. Hoisting up the Artorias great shield, the past became clear. Artorias was swallowed by the abyss, but he managed to protect his friend from being consumed as well. Artorias left arm was broken, hence he had left his shield behind as a last defense for Sif. The sad puppy did not know who you were, but he knew what you saved his. He would repay you. You patted the smooth but ruffled fur before continuing your journey.

Manus, The Father of the Abyss had dragged you to the past. There was only one way to go home, and that was through this beast. He proved to be tough. Not only strong, but he proved to be ridiculously aggressive and fast. Win or lose, it didn’t matter, you as the chosen undead were eternal. So long as you held onto your humanity, you would never go hollow. You could die as many times as needed, so long as you bore the dark sign.

Manus proved a great challenge, but your actions had not left you to fight alone. Sif, stood side by side with you. Weary and somewhat short on breath, Sif was going to make sure that the monster of the abyss would pay. For his home, for his fallen friend, but also for you he’d fight. With Manus’ attention divided, his fury was cut in half. Sif was agile, while you were strong. By your combine efforts, Manus was destroyed. A maiden lie cold an alone in the abyss, but he would meet you again in the future. Fighting off the abyss was more important than ever before. Lordran is already a hell hole, but the end of the age of fire would only leave dark to remain.

Now more than ever oh chosen undead, you must collect the abysswalker ring to confront the Four Kings of New Londo Ruins. They lay your final trial before you may seek out Lord Gywn. You must succeed Lord Gywn. You travel through Darkroot Garden, but this time with no thieves and forest hunters to plunder you. You enter the ruined building, being greeted by Alvina.

“Chosen undead. Thou hast done well to get this far. Only a few left stand in thine way. Seek out the abysswalker ring. Thou journey is at an end without it. Seeketh the ring, and you shall not be harmed by the void of the dark. Only then canst thou challenge the Four Kings of New Londo.” she turned her head to the stone gate down garden’s path.

Whatever lay behind that stone gate, you had to overcome. Your journey is almost at an end. Wasting no time at all you walked down the hardly illuminated path. Some mushroom shaped monsters no longer had any interest to attack you. It must have had to do with triggering some event in the past.

You stood now before the giant stone doors. Placing your hand on the old relic caused the door to open slowly. Behind the doors appeared to be a graveyard, filled with countless rusted swords. As you strolled through the ominous graveyard, one large gravestone grabbed your attention. It must have been important if it was the only real landmark of the graveyard. Not only that, but stuck inside the grave was a gigantic sword. Upon closer inspection, the sword was all too familiar. It belonged to Artorias. This sword though seemed cleansed of all the dark of the abyss. No longer was the divine blade cursed. You approach the sword, reaching a hand out to touch the blade.

A large shadow suddenly from above you darkened your sight. Tilting your head up was not a something you were expecting. A gigantic wolf stared down at you, growling before letting loose a menacing bark. This wolf must be the protector of this grave. Its silver fur was all too familiar. Could it really be? The gigantic wolf landed in front of you, shaking the very ground you stood on. No it couldn’t be? That little pup grew up into this beast?

You weren’t the only one who seemed to be troubled. The elegant wolf approached you slowly, instead of initiating an attack. You paced backwards and cautiously tried to not incur the wolf’s wrath. As the snout of the wolf got closer to you, you fell back on your sword. You made a rookie mistake, and now the beast could kill you in a split second as you lay defenseless on the ground.

The great grey wolf placed a paw on your left leg, trapping your movement. The wolf’s nose approached your body, giving your scent a sniff. His warm breath made you sweat in your armour a little. A low growl emitted deep in his throat as he sniffed you. His menacing eye then changed. The wolf’s expression was different all the sudden. He removed his left paw off your leg, starring coldly at you for a moment. If you listened closely, you could hear the wolf whimpering, saddened. He was that wolf from the past. He was the wolf that traveled with Artorias. He was the wolf that lost his master to the darkness of the abyss. He was the wolf whose eyes showed true sorrow. That sorrowful look back in Oolacile for his master, now radiates towards you. You reach your hand out to comfort the saddened now grown up pup. He must be guarding the abysswalker ring. You could settle this peacefully.

Sif turned his snout away from you, and raised his head towards the moonlight sky, letting loose a painful howl. A loud long howl filled with emotion. He shouted towards the heavens. Sif’s eyes remained closed. His jaw remained shut in the shape of a frown as he turned away from you. Sif sulked back to the giant sword in the ground. He gripped it slowly, and then leaped before you. Sif wielded the great Sword of Artorias in his maw. He swung the sword to his left and gripped onto it tight. Sif’s breathing slowed, and his eyes mourned. As you stood up, you knew he was not going to let you have that ring. Sif was going to stop you one way or another.

Sif dashed for you, tossing aside his emotions. He swung his sword across the ground in a clean sweep. You roll under the attack, saving yourself some stamina instead of trying to block. Wide open you slash at the beast’s leg a couple times. Sif counted by pulling off a leap away slash. Your armour held up, but the damage still hurt. After every monster you fought before, Sif wasn’t really that tough compared them. Sif though seemed to be quicker on his feet than other enemies. Waste too much stamina attacking, and he could overwhelm you.

It was your duty as the chosen undead to succeed Lord Gywn. You cannot let the dark overtake Lordran like it did Oolacile. The age of fire must continue. Sif wouldn’t let you fall to the dark. His eyes bared witness to the fall of Artorias. Sif watched as the dark consumed his master. He wouldn’t let you suffer the same fate, even if it meant killing you. A fate such as Artorias’ was worse than death.

Sif continued to counterattack, but you figured out his fighting pattern. Sif tried a multiple slash sweep to break your guard, but you didn’t need to defend. So long as you stayed close to his legs, he was going to have a hard time hitting you. Sif would attack, but you would continue to dodge close to his leg and attack. Sooner or later fatigue would set in. Even if Sif managed to land a critical blow, your trusty Estus Flask would heal you up. You’re too experienced for this fight now. If you had stumbled into Darkroot earlier, Sif may have posed more of a problem.

Damage took its toll on poor Sif. One swing of your sword later, and Sif was badly wounded. His left front paw hurt too much. Sif just wouldn’t give up though. He limped with his remaining 3 legs. Fighting Sif no longer felt right. Honour just had no place in Lordran anymore. Lordran is only a shell of what it once was just from the hollow outbreak. If Sif wouldn’t yield and stay out of your way, he’d have to be killed.

Sif swung his sword against your shield, but barely affected your stamina. Sif couldn’t even threaten you much anymore. You wanted him to badly just give up and stop fighting, but Sif refused. Sif swung his master’s back again for a counter attack, only to lose balance and fall onto his side. Sif squirmed and kicked helplessly as he could no longer get up. The damn wolf just wouldn’t take defeat for answer. His master’s sword got stuck in the ground as he whimpered in pain

Such a graceful creature, reduced to such a pitiful state. Even if you hadn’t met Sif beforehand, it still wouldn’t be satisfying to defeat any creature in such a helpless state. Lowering your guard, you walk towards the downed Sif. Sif must have the ring on him somewhere, so he must be put down. For the sake of your destiny as chosen undead, Sif must die.

Sif’s fur felt very scraggy and worn out after all these years have passed. The mutt must have felt nothing but suffering since he had no one to look after him. Death would at least return Sif with his fallen friend. You had already slain what was left of Artorias and brought him peace, so now it has come to you to give Sif peace as well.

You drew your sword once more to end Sif’s suffering. Another attack oughta bring the wolf everlasting peace. But Sif would not have any of this. He would not let you fall to the abyss and become another pawn of the dark. Sif growled and snapped his jaw around your left arm. Your armour protected you, but you could feel the grey wolf’s teeth start to break through.

Sif yanked you by your arm and opened his maw once more. This time he snapped it shut against your back. Sif was desperate to stop you, even if he had to resort to a primal tactic like this. Saliva leaked into your armour as Sif had your upper body trapped in his maw. You reached for your sword, only for Sif to pull you away.

The great grey wolf tilted his head back and allowed your body to carefully slide down his throat. If Sif really wanted too, he probably could have chewed you to bits. You could fight back, but what was really the point? Sure maybe you could escape and free yourself possibly, but death was meaningless to you. Numerous foes have killed you before. You have died many times. Dying was but a learning experience. Going hollow was an impossibility for you and you alone. Sif could try as he might, but sooner or later you’d put him down.

Sif swallowed hard, sending your small body to the back of his throat. The wolf’s throat pulsated and pushed against your armour, as they tugged you down to the beast’s gullet. Sif took no pleasure with his prey. This was no hunt. This was not fun. This was a different kind of pain. The pain of killing a loved one. Sif is unaware of the undead curse, so he’d sooner or later realize just how futile his efforts were. Why not just let him win this once. Let him feel like he succeeded at something.

Moments later you collapsed inside Sif’s stomach. Nothing compared to the Undead Asylum, so this prison was all but meaningless. Sif limped back to his masters sword and curled around it. He had you close to him, as well as Artorias’ sword by his side. He would rest well knowing he at least saved one companion. At least you had not been corrupted by the abyss.