The fallen leaves of the Golden Tree tell a story of several ages ago. A moment in history that would change the order of the Midlands from what it was before.
The great Elden Ring was shattered. At the hands of Queen Marika, The Eternal.
In our home, on the other side of the mists, the Midlands.
Now, Queen Marika, The Undying is nowhere to be found, and on the Night of the Black Knives, Godwyn the Golden was the first to perish at the hands of the witch Ranni's assassins.
Soon, Marika's descendants, all who called themselves demigods, claimed the shards of the Elden Ring, seeking to extend their dominions into our lands.
The mad taint of their newfound strength unleashed Devastation in all corners due to the war that raged in that dreary age.
A war from which no lord emerged.
A war that led to abandonment by the Greater Will.
Rise up now, 'Tarnished'.
Ye dead who yet live.
The call of long lost grace speaks to all who are worthy to bow before the Elden Ring.
Hoarah Loux, chief of the Wastelands.
The ever-brilliant Golden Mask.
Fia, the deathbed companion.
The loathsome Dung Eater.
And Sir Gideon Ofnir, the All-Knowing.
And one more. Whom grace will bless again somewhere, sometime.
A 'Tarnished' without renown. Whose origin and transcendence no one will know.
Crosses the mists, into the Lands Between. Gather the fragments of the Elden Ring scattered among the descendants of Marika, to be able to stand before it, and become the next Lord of the Elden.