In Artorias' world, there was no true way to defeat the abyss. Try as he might, Artorias took it upon himself to try and hold back the abyss, putting himself on the line to help protect Gwyn's age of fire. He wore a magical amulet around his neck made from silver, that helped deflect the abyss, and the ring he wore on his finger bore his signet. The ring symbolised the Covenant of Artorias, which allowed his to traverse the abyss unharmed by it. His mind thought of Oolacile and New Londo. How they were gradually being consumed by the abyss. How long before it took hold of everything? How long before it consumed the first flame and plunged his world into darkness?
Sif, sensing the knights worry, nudged his hand with her snout and whined at his feet. Smiling softly, Artorias pet her head with his good hand.
He had been able to remove all of his armour, some of it more easily than other parts. He sat in rather plain looking clothing, made from simple cloth but well made none the less, coloured in dark faded blues, silvers and whites.
Artorias paused to look at what she had gestured to. That was when he took proper notice of how much of the abyss had left its mark. He had to remain calm. To hope by the fire flame he could be saved and if not? The abyss would consume him and he would lose his mind. He would turn hollow and no one would be safe. His soul would become corrupt.
"I have very few possession" the knight admitted, lowering his gaze. He had not known a home in a long time and had no need for belongings. Slowly he stood up and accepted the offered robe. "Thou art kind, lady Frigga" he said, bowing his head to her.