Install Steam
login
|
language
简体中文 (Simplified Chinese)
繁體中文 (Traditional Chinese)
日本語 (Japanese)
한국어 (Korean)
ไทย (Thai)
Български (Bulgarian)
Čeština (Czech)
Dansk (Danish)
Deutsch (German)
Español - España (Spanish - Spain)
Español - Latinoamérica (Spanish - Latin America)
Ελληνικά (Greek)
Français (French)
Italiano (Italian)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
Magyar (Hungarian)
Nederlands (Dutch)
Norsk (Norwegian)
Polski (Polish)
Português (Portuguese - Portugal)
Português - Brasil (Portuguese - Brazil)
Română (Romanian)
Русский (Russian)
Suomi (Finnish)
Svenska (Swedish)
Türkçe (Turkish)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
Українська (Ukrainian)
Report a translation problem
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.
But when I recall, I see it true.
On a night of wint'ry fog.
The rune of death was stolen
And the demigods began to fall, starting with Godwyn the Golden.
Queen Marika was driven to the brink.
The Shattering ensued; a war that wrought only darkness.
The Elden Ring was broken, but by whom? And why?
What could the Demigods ever hope to win by warring?
The conqueror of the stars, General Radahn.
And the Blade of Miquella, Malenia the Severed.
These two were the mightiest to remain, and locked horns in combat.
But there would be no victor.
And so, we inhabit a fractured world.
Awaiting the arrival of the Elden Lord.
Unless of course, thou shouldst take the crown?