Dark Souls RP

[Kuro]

And then there was Fire...

---

There was a crash.

Something bright.

A…fire? He couldn’t….He…

The ground…It was hard…and empty…

And there it was.

There was the sword.

---

The giant raven could be seen in the distance by anyone who cared to look, its black shape recognizable to all those lingering in Firelink Shrine. It wasn’t stopping at its nest though; no, this time it flew straight past the bonfire. It dropped something that hit the ground with a thud and circled back to its nest, having done its deed.

Crouching next to the bonfire was a figure clad in leather armor and torn cloth, a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. Slowly, carefully, he stood up, still a little shaken by the impact. The first thing he did was look around. A bonfire burned in front of him, surrounded by barren dirt and stone. He stood in the midst of what appeared to be ruins of some very long gone walls. Perhaps once there had even been a ceiling. Stone steps were near him, a mildly curious man in chain mail sitting on them. He wasn’t saying anything; his eyes simply looked at the newcomer for a few moments before returning their solemn gaze to the ground. The newcomer decided not to say anything yet and continued to find out just where he was. To his right, stairs? To his left, more ruins and somewhat intact rooms. He walked to the room that was most directly opposite of him: Something that was more of a closed room, with water in it. He calmly walked over, not noticing anything else on the way.

Once he was inside, he looked at the room with curiosity and at the water with something…else. It was strange. He couldn’t remember the last time he had consumed anything, and yet…The water had no appeal to him. He looked at his reflection. A man in a full suit of armor, his face unconcealed by his helmet.

A face with shadowed eye sockets, blue lips and the wrinkles of an ancient corpse.

He was disgusted, but somehow captivated by the grotesque image. It was so hard to look at it, but so hard to look away. With almost an angry effort, he turned around and started walking back to the bonfire, but along the way something caught his eye. Several things actually, but the most important one was the person. The newcomer turned to his side and gave his full attention to the one he saw, his face barely showing any expression if only because of physical limits. The newcomer opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, and seemed to think of something for a moment. Then, in a raspy and grating voice that surprised even its owner:

“Hello?"

[Shark a' Pult]

Not a significantly far distance away, a figure wearing rusted scraps of what could be likened to armor stood on the mossy stone floor staring down into a well. Next to him, hanging halfway into and out of the well on the circular edge of it was a corpse. To a keen eye, one might notice that despite being a very weathered and practically rotting body, it definitely had some rags of clothing and pockets. These pockets had already been thoroughly rifled through however.

"Hmmm... I wonder if this poor fellow merely sought a drink?"

The figure promptly dropped a small package into the well.

[Kuro]

The newcomer had patiently waited for a response, but after the figure dropped something into the well, it became apparent that he had not heard or was just ignoring him. He looked more carefully at the person, or tried to. At this angle, he couldn't really see his face, but he could see the corpse in rags leaning near him. Nothing seemed special about the well. His eyes looked past the seemingly busy person and saw some sort of bridge in the distance. No, waterways, perhaps? There were stairs not too far from him and it appeared as if they would take anyone stepping on them closer to the bridge, but near the stairs was something. A person? He...wasn't sure. It moved oddly, and it gave him a shiver just looking at the small silhouette. The newcomer looked away and stepped in a circle to fully look around his immediate spot. So far, the only ways out of this place appeared to be the stairs near the bonfire, a passageway leading out of the room with water, the stairs to the bridge, and another room he had not yet looked in. Instead of investigating all of these paths however, it was better to concentrate on the definite person in front of him. The newcomer almost took a step forward, hesitated like he had when first deciding to speak, and opted to stay in his spot.

"I am sorry to bother you..." He wanted to add "if you are busy", but it hurt so much just to talk. The rasp certainly wasn't for show, and yet he still wasn't thirsty at all. It was best to keep things short. "Where am I? Who are you?"

[Shark a' Pult]

"Ah, were you addressing me? I thought you one of those vile holllows. No I am... not busy at all."

At first the man at the well drew back when he heard the newcomer, holding a short sword aloft. The speaking of the person sounded so raspy and broken that indeed, he thought them to be one of the walking corpses that plagued this land. He knew how to deal with them at least partially well, for he was wielding one of their swords and was wearing their scrap metal armor. They tended to shriek and utter mad ravings from time to time, but it seemed this poor fellow still retained his mind in this inhuman form.

"You find yourself in Lordran my unfortunate fellow, the fabled land of the Gods. I am Osvalda, a simple knight of the Fivefinger Delta. Who might you be, so lost as you are to arrive in this strange land?"

[Kuro]

The newcomer had stepped back when the stranger took out his sword and raised his own sword in reply. When the stranger spoke, however, the newcomer became less tense. He still held his sword in front of him for a few moments as the other spoke, but eventually he slowly lowered it back to his side. He thought back to his reflection. He did look like a hollow, but surely he wasn't...He wasn't insane, was he? Osvalda...The Fivefinger Delta. He had never heard of these people, but then again, he hadn't heard much of anything back when he was -

...Alive.

Of all the places to be in though; Lordran was a name that he recognized, but he did not believe it. He could not. He, some undead, in the land of the Gods? In the mystical Lordran? Perhaps he was insane.He looked around again, making sure that he was standing on real, solid ground, his thoughts to his surroundings changing drastically. Perhaps this was just all a delusion. It was hard to imagine Lordran as a real place or even something that anyone could really stand on. The place he was in was definitely real, and he was definitely in a place he had never seen before. But, Lordran?

Then again, he remembered what the knight in the aslyum had said to him. What he had told him as he bled to death on the floor. He remembered the promise. The newcomer turned his head away as he remembered the moment, still thinking in silence after Osvalda had introduced himself. It was possible, he supposed. He really could be in Lordran. Or the man before him might be insane. Or he himself might be insane. If it was the second case though, he would prefer not to have any conflict with a mentally challenged being. For now, he supposed that it was best to go along with what the man was saying.

"...Sevroy. Throat hurts." He tugged at his withered throat to emphasize this. "I don't know...anything. Help?" Again, he tugged at his throat to show that of all of his problems, his severe talking disability was what he thought to be the worst.

[Shark a' Pult]

"Sevroy it is then! You will have to forgive me friend, for I know as much about this strange place much as you do. I only recently arrived to this land myself."

Though he wished to help the poor fellow, he grimaced as he scratched at his helmet. He could hold in one hand the worldly possessions he had with him, likely none of which could help this Sevroy person. Though he sheathed his sword, he tried to remember all that had happened since he had been here. It was not much, but perhaps in that the fellow would find some relief.

"If you need aid in felling those foul creatures up yonder, I'm your man. If it's matters of knowledge then you might want to try the figure seated on the wall over there, he seemed to know a thing or two about this place when I asked him."

At first he gestured up to the cliff side behind him with a laugh, where the aqueduct ran across to the colossal walled structure beyond the valley. Rubbing at his chin in thought however, he subsequently gestured over to a crestfallen looking fellow, indeed seated on a crumbling portion of the wall near the fire.

"Unless a drink is really all you need? If so, I believe there is a wading pool just up those steps over there... or perhaps the place is merely flooded?"

[Kuro]

So those are hollows, thought Sevroy. How Osvalda referred to them made it definite that they were not like him; their descent into insanity had been complete. Seeing them only reminded him of the strange nature of his predicament. Was his appearance simply because he was on the brink of becoming a hollow? Everyone else in the aslyum had been insane, save for the knight who let him escape. It was odd that he had not yet turned as his fellow prisoners had in the time that he was there. Time...How long had he been in there? He had stopped counting once he no longer could tell when it was day or night. Had these ruins been something more before his capture? Had their entire process of decay happened during his imprisonment? Had he outlived an age?

No. The idea was ridiculous. Then again, he was in the mystical Lordran. It was unfortunate that Osvalda knew as much of the place as he did, but at least he had a potential ally who pointed him in the right direction. Sevroy tried to smile, but it came out as a few-toothed "grin", if you could call it that. "Thank you." He looked to the crestfallen man he had seen earlier and walked to him, trying not to be as threatening as possible.

"Uh...I need, help -"

"Yes, I heard you and your acquantince speaking over there. My goodness, you are practically hollow, aren't you?"

The man's words struck a chord in Sevroy's heart, echoing the concerns he had thought of earlier. He said nothing in response and waited for the guide to continue, his voice a strange mix of condescension and tired apathy.

"Hah hah hah hah." A sad, mocking laugh. "You want to be human again, don't you? Well, there are a few ways to go about it. Collect it bit by bit from corpses, which you can make out of hollows, or - and I would never do it - kill a healthy undead, and pillage its humanity. By healthy undead, I mean someone like the priest in the room you haven't seen yet, or even someone like me. Simply kill them and take their humanity. Coveting thy neighbor is only human, after all! Hah hah hah hah..."

The nameless guide was now disturbing Sevroy. The methods he so casually proposed were horrific and unthinkable. To steal someone's very humanity...What a wretched and nonsensical idea. But...

He took out an odd object from one of his pouches, in fact the thing was more akin to a light than any physical object. It was a small, completely black "light" with a completley white outline, the simple and singular colors of the thing in severe contrast with the environment around it. It floated in Sevroy's hand, and the crestfallen guide looked at it with a knowing smile. "Oh yes. That is a humanity, something you must have picked up from the aslyum, I suppose. The secret to your poor, parched throat. Simply go to the bonfire over there and offer it. The motion should come naturally to you; it always does. Hah hah hah hah..." Sevroy didn't fully grasp the oddness of that last remark, and went to the bonfire as instructed. With the humanity in hand, he wondered just how to offer it.

And then it came naturally, as it always does. Almost without knowing it, as if he was doing a regular motion, he knelt down one knee before the bonfire and held out the humanity in his hand. With his hand in the flames, he crushed the black and white light. He was alarmed at first - did he do something wrong? Why did he crush the humanity? But then it happened; before he could worry any more, he was bathed in a green light that covered his entire body. For a moment, he was hidden in the sudden color and his figure was unseen. A moment later, however, and the green light faded away as quickly as it had come. He was still kneeling and his hand remained outstreched, but he stood up with something distinctively different about him. He gasped and took in a deep breath, but exhaled slowly. He felt different. His eyes no longer seemed too small for their sockets. It no longer hurt him to breath. He smacked his lips and felt, for the first time in a long time, saliva in his mouth. He continued to simply breath, still unsure of what had happened, the crestfallen guide smirking at the man's reaction to life. Sevroy looked at his gloved hands and started to raise them up to his face...but chose to instead look at his reflection first.

He practically ran past Osvalda to the pool and saw in the water, himself in the flesh. His black mop of hair drooped down from his face, which was itself pale and gaunt. His eyes were brown - brown, he had forgotten what color his eyes had been - his eyes were brown, and there were dark bags under it. His neck was now wrinkle-free and his throat fully functional. As if to prove the reflection correct, he now fully brought his hands to his face and felt it: It was no longer a valley of creases, but smooth - for the most part. He had not led a life of luxury in his life, and his angled face was proof of that. But anything was better than the red skull it had once been. He walked out of the room with the water and meant to talk to Osvalda next. However, someone else beckoned.

"Don't you want to hear about the Bell of Awakening? What you came here for...?"

Sevroy stopped in his tracks and thought back to the knight. The one who had saved him. The one who had given him a second chance at life. His last words...

He walked to the guide and stood in front of him, his mouth now ready to speak, after all of these years. "What do you know about the Bell of Awakening?" His voice was deep, firm, authoritive. It resounded through the ruins, and almost impressed the crestfallen man. Almost. "So, you can talk. Oh, how wonderful. I wonder if you can hear too. Listen carefully now.

The Bell of Awakening is up above in the Undead Church, but the lift is broken. You'll have to climb the stairs up the ruins, and access the Undead Burg through the waterway."

So, it was a waterway. It would be just his luck that the lift was broken, although he had not yet seen such a lift.

"Wait. How do you know of this? I did not hear it in the prophecy."

"Hah hah hah hah hah. Oh, a prophecy? Is that what you call it? You are the first one I know of to have spoken of such a thing. Usually the people know of the Bells through family words and passed down legends. You are an odd one...aren't you?" Sevroy frowned at the man's mocking words, but resisted the urge to yell at the valuable guide. "Well, I have a surprise for you. You are not the first one to come here. So many have been sent here by the Raven to Lordran, all of them convinced that they were the Chosen Undead. Much like you. You are but another warrior dropped off and soon to die...again. Hah hah hah hah."

Die. No. He had already died once. He had been sent to the Aslyum. He had been freed from it. He had gotten a second chance and had been sent to a mystical land. No. He would not die. The information on the previous "Chosen Undead" was surprising, but not as important to Sevroy. He did not care about them. He cared about his journey. He cared about his promise. Without a word, he left the smirking guide and walked back to Osvalda. His human face was apparent now, and it held a resolute and serious expression.

"Osvalda, knight of the Fivefinger Delta. I am Sevroy, former mercenary or wandering sellsword. I do not know if you heard anything the guide said. I do remember you saying that you would help me fight the hollows above the steps. I intend to go through the waterway and go to the Undead Church to ring the Bell of Awakening. I do not know much of this land, as neither do you, so we do not know what awaits anyone on that journey. It may be hopeless. You do not have to follow me if you do not want to, for I do not wish to place an unwilling man in peril. If you want to, follow me into danger. If not, I understand. I am knowledgable of the sword and shield. But I ask for your help." He sheathed his sword and extended his hand to shake. "Please. Will you help me?"

[Shark a' Pult]

"Ah hello friend, I believe you already told me your name. I can see that you have reclaimed some of your old life however, this is most splendid!"

When Sevroy had left, Osvalda had gone right back to examining the well, missing the events of what happened to the poor fellow after that. This well though, there was just something about it, so conspicuous and precisely placed. Perhaps it led somewhere? He would have to find that out later. Sevroy soon returned however, looking not unlike a normal person rather than a nasty hollow. As well, along with his humanity he seemed to have gained some higher purpose now, with talk of the church and a bell.

"I did speak to the dour fellow not long ago, but he had only to offer some drivel about an undead fate. It all seems like hogwash to me so I nodded my head and paid him no mind. If you speak of the same things however, then perhaps there is some truth behind the words?"

He gestured a shrug.

His short time in Lordran was largely marked with confusion and being lost, but he could not deny the supernatural qualities of the place. He did not believe in such things as fate and fabled journeys, the common people of the Delta were not so well off as to afford such superstitions. Not like those snooty Vinheim personages. The Way of White taught faith and not much else, and were he a more pious man such as a cleric, this might have all sounded like heresy. But Sevroy was headed off to follow his destiny, with speak of perils and other danger, and Osvalda knew a thing or two about that.

"Well then friend, never you mind about me! Danger is not a high priority for a knight such as myself, and a wayward hollow or two does not present much in the way of peril. I would wager that is all we are in for after all, a few ruddy mad undead, why if it isn't so, I'll eat my gloves!"

With that, Osvalda warmly shook the newcomer's hand with a laugh. This looked to be the start of a promising partnership marked with much victory and treasures, not to mention Sevroy's destiny along the way.

"Before we take our leave to head up yonder however, have you considered searching these ruins for any beneficial items of interest? Who knows what sorts of odd trinkets may come in handy, that one could turn up in a place such as this?"

[Kuro]

Sevroy smiled when Osvalda shook his hand. To have an ally in such a foreign place was a true blessing. And yes, there couldn't possibly be more than some hollows in their path. "I hope your gloves remain uneaten, my friend. Thank you.

Searching the ruins...I didn't think of that. Honestly, I would have just walked straight up to the waterway if you hadn't said anything. Ha. You're helping already. Let's go."

He walked into the room he had not entered yet, which at first glance held stairs, pots, and a portly man who somehow had the air of a priest or cleric around him. Sevroy just thought that the person seemed rather like the average holy man: His bowl-cut hair, his beak-like nose, his mace and his...girth. Sevroy took a few steps towards him, not noticing the discomfort on the man's face as he did so.

"Hello. Do you know anything about Lordran or the Undead Church? I would be grateful for any help you can -"

The cleric put up one hand, signaling the man in front of him to stop and back away. He looked at the warrior with a condescending, judging look as if he was looking at something most unappealing. "Oh my, you are talking to me, are you? I am Petrus of Thorulund. I do not know the answers to any of your questions. Unless you have business with us, I would ask that you keep your distance, if possible." Sevroy raised an eyebrow at Petrus's manner and decided to just walk away rather than waste time fighting with the rude man. Of course, he wouldn't kill him, unless if was in self-defense. He had only seen three people so far, one of them hopefully following him. For all he knew, they would be his only source of human contact.

Up the stairs he went and two door-shaped passageways could be seen in the wall. They both led to a dark bottom and seemingly had no end in the top. Sevroy leaned over one of the holes and appeared to be thinking. One could not tell whether or not the hole was a safe drop, for it was so dark. Indeed, there was the chance that -

Sevroy spit into the hole and heard a plop only a second or two later. "Alright, it's safe." He dropped down the hole and, as he thought, no damage was inflicted. He walked out of the hole area and was very surprised to see several treasure chests, all of the closed and unprotected. How strange...was this tradition in the land of the gods? He waited for Osvalda to be near him and spoke when was, gesturing at the treasure. "You should open them first. It was your idea to look for them. Hopefully, we can share, but you can have what you want. After that, I think the way back is down this slope.", which he walked over to. "I don't see any hollows...Only graves and bones. Actually, I think I see a weapon or two over there. Let's look at that after we look at this." Free and unprotected items were scattered all over the place. Perhaps the journey to the Bell would not be difficult at all. He couldn't be overconfident, though. He had to succeed in his mission. He had made a promise.

[Shark a' Pult]

He had already opened the chest at the back of the water-filled room when he arrived, but Osvalda took the chance now to more properly explore the ruins. Near to where the stairs led up to the elevator passage Sevroy had found, he noticed a small side passage and followed it. It turned out to be a dead end, just a mossy pathway into the natural stone of the cliff where a body was seated at the end. As he approached he noticed there must have been some sort of supplies on the body, but he knelt in reverence.

"Is this eerie land too insurmountable for the likes of us? You have my condolences friend, I hope I can have your forgiveness."

With that he sheathed his sword and searched the body. Finding six firebombs, he uttered a short prayer before headed to catch up with Sevroy. Along the way he bowed to Petrus the cleric, whom he had met and spoken with prior.

---

"What?! Pray tell how you managed to find yourself in that dark pit, did you jump down or some other unnatural means? I wonder why you would even think to go down there in the first place, it looked like a fatal drop to me..."

Osvalda nearly lost track of Sevroy when he went up the stairs, and had the fellow not spoken out then the knight would have walked right past and continued on up the stairs. He ended up stopping near the edge of the dark elevator shaft, looking down at the invisible bottom. He wasn't one of those clever sorcerer types from Vinheim, but he knew a bad idea when he saw it.

"Tell you what, you can have whatever treasures you find down there, and I will meet you on the other side. We can meet up by those graves you mentioned, I think I did see a graveyard when I took a look around earlier."

With that he proceeded to head back to the water-filled room and out the side door to wait for Sevroy at the top of the staircase leading down into the graveyard behind the old ruined church. Once his wayward hole-diving friend emerged and Osvalda saw him, he'd head down to meet him and back him up if necessary.

[Kuro]

"Wait. What?"

When Sevroy had jumped down the pit and reached the area with several treasure chests, he had looked away from the chests as he had spoken, assuming that Osvalda had followed him. He turned around at Osvalda's odd words and indeed saw no one there. "Uh..." In truth, this was an awkward and comical moment. Sevroy couldn't help but have a little smile. "Very well then! I will meet you there!" He shouted the words, but he didn't know if Osvalda had heard them. Well, time to open the treasure chests.

Hm...Four orbs, each a cracked, nearly broken red orb. He believed they each had an etching of an eye on them. A talisman...He think he saw a cleric using this once...and a morning star. Wow, a new weapon already, just lying around for someone to use it. How generous. ......Six....bones? How odd. He was beginning to think that a senile person or hollow put these things here. So random, but so useful. He silently thanked whoever had hidden away such treasures for others to use. Of course, if they had not intended for others to use them, then shame on Sevroy.

He was now near the edge of the treasure area; he was atop a slope that led down into the graveyards. He slid down and turned his head this way and that to see if there was any treasure when a sword came slicing at him.

"Ah! What?"

He ducked on reflex and the sword went straight over him. He rolled out of the way and stood up, his shield and sword ready.

Wait.

The wielder of the sword was a skeleton. A set of bones was walking and trying to kill him. How...How was this possible? Skeletons couldn't - And another swing of the sword, trying to cut his neck. Sevroy also dodged that strike by backing up, and now he was more focused. He would wonder about this later. For now, he could do what knew well of: Fighting.

He raised his shield up and blocked the skeleton's next attack, which caused the skeleton to stagger. He took his chance and thrust his sword forward, looking to fatally stab his opponent in the heart. He realized his folly when the sword went straight through the skeleton's torso and hit nothing at all, not even bone. It would have worked on a regular, human foe...But this foe was decidedly not human. Sevroy took his sword back and raised his shield again just in time to block the skeleton's attacks, although this time he did not stagger. Sevroy continued to block the hits, but they were taking a toll; his shield arm was becoming more battered and strained with every cut. After one more hit, the skeleton staggered again and Sevroy attacked through a different method. With the skeleton vulnerable, Sevroy hacked and slashed at his opponent, intending to rid it of its bones. He could easily break some of the bones with his sword, especially with no skin or muscle in the way, and that he did. The skeleton stepped back with every hit, losing some of the bones that had made it up. One particularly heavy strike came crashing down on the skeleton and went straight through his....bones around the neck area, along with some of the torso. He wasn't cutting as much as he was just simply breaking, which made him think that the morning star was a better tool against these creatures. He grunted and yelled with each strike, not stopping until he pulverized his opponent.

At one point however, his sword arm grew rather tired. Sevroy started huffing and panting now, but his opponent still wasn't down, although it was close. The skeleton sliced and he once again ducked out of the way and then swung his own sword at the skeleton. It connected with the creature's spine and it collapsed onto the floor, falling into pieces that rolled away from each other on the stone ground. It was now that he realized that Osvalda had been near the whole time, maybe watching it or even trying to assist. Sevroy had automatically gone into a battle state. There had been no one around him as far as he knew, just him and his opponent. It was useful, but if wanted to work with his new ally, he would have to fit the idea of assistance into that state. He was still a little tired...He supposed that all of his time spent in the asylum had made him somewhat rusty. However, the dark thing had been vanquished. Perhaps now he could contemplate whether or not to search the -

...Sevroy noticed the other skeletons, all of which were now walking towards him, each seeming just as malicious as the first. Sevroy began to take a few steps back. As he did so, he saw the bones of the first skeleton reform to once again be an enemy. A drop of sweat went down Sevroy's face as he thought of what to do in this situation.

He ran up the stairs, the skeletons following him in close pursuit.

"Osvalda! Run, go back to the bonfire, anywhere but here! Do not fight the skeletons! Just get to the bonfire!" Sevroy followed his own advice and sprinted to the bonfire, going through the water room as he did so. He was getting close...He could hear footsteps behind him. When he got near enough, he jumped to the bonfire, startling the crestfallen man. He sat in front of the bonfire, calmed himself down...and breathed.

The creatures of bones faded away, vanishing as if they had been but a dream. All of Sevroy's wounds and fatigue were healed or taken away. The fire burned before him with a warm, appealing glow. He was safe...He stood up and looked around for Osvalda, hoping that he had managed to at least avoid battle until he sat at the bonfire. "Osvalda?"

[Shark a' Pult]

The wayward knight was seated not far from the bonfire, on the rim of the well where he had first been found. Turning one of the new firebombs in his hands, he spoke to Sevroy without actually looking at him.

"You know friend, I'm not completely useless in a fight. Engaging those skeletons alone wasn't the best of ideas, but if you'd have just asked..."

Getting up from the rim of the well, he pocketed the firebomb and looked on back towards the water-filled room, half-expecting a number of skeletons to be following after Sevroy. It was odd that they weren't, he had not yet encountered enemies in this land who gave up a chase once their attention had been attracted. Then again, he had not encountered anything like animate skeletons before.

"Where to then, I take it we aren't headed back to the graveyard? What did you manage to find after you dove down that hole anyway?"

[Kuro]

Sevroy had on an odd expression on his face in response to Osvalda's first words. It seemed to be a mix of awkward guilt and embarrassment. He glanced at the firebomb, knowing of their use, and once Osvalda finished talking he took out the items he had retrieved.

"I got...a morning star...a talisman, four cracked red orbs." He sighed. "And some bones. That were in a treasure chest." He laid them out on the ground for Osvalda to see and possibly comment on. Before the man in scraps of armor could comment on anything though, Sevroy glanced around for a bit and then spoke to him.

"I am sorry for anything I did. I had not seen the skeletons though, so I had not expected to fight them. Of course, they also...They also put themselves back together when you defeat them, and there were many. I was too worried to think straight, what with coming to this new land and seeing the skeletons and all. That is my bad. However, I really did not think that we could beat them. I am sorry if I underestimated you. I will definitely ask your help in future fights."
He looked at the waterway up above and at the hollows guarding it. "We go to the waterway next. According to him", gesturing his head at the guide nearby, "that will lead up to the Undead Burg and then the church. There, we'll ring the bell and come back here." He had already said this, but saw no harm in saying it again. "When you are ready, we will go. Take your time." For now, he just wanted to rest.

[Shark a' Pult]

"Don't be too hard on yourself. I might have done the same were I in your situation... to see the bones of the dead animating themselves and forming together to attack the living! In all my years I've never seen such a thing!"

Osvalda looked over the items Sevroy had obtained but he didn't much react to any of them. The morning star the fellow could have, he was a swords knight himself. The cracked orbs though and the talisman, and some bones? Perhaps he got them from the graveyard during his short visit. Either way, the knight had no clue what any of them did or were for. Ergo, no need to spend time stressing the brain on what their design and purpose was, let the one who found them make good of their use.

"I was ready the moment I found myself in this land. By the look of this armor, I daresay I can handle anything we might come across. After all, after animate skeletons, it can't get much worse! Ha!"

With that he drew his sword, holding it with both hands and turned to point upwards at the waterway.

"Lead the way friend! Let us make short work of any villains who stand in our way!"

[Kuro]

After hearing Osvalda's encouraging and dare he say, amusing words, smile appeared on Sevroy's face - or at least, a corner of his lips curved upwards. "Thank you, friend." He replaced his sword with the morningstar and stood up. He made a few swings with the heavy weapon, gravity contributing to his attacks much more than its fair share. The warrior looked at the weapon with an odd expression and placed it back on the ground, holding his sword again. "Its a bit too different from the swords I'm used too. I'll just stick with with this blade for now." He stuffed the orbs and bones into various pouches and pockets, but hesitated with the Talisman. He turned it around a few times in his hand, examining it. He had a thoughtful expression for a moment, and then shook the talisman.

Nothing happened.

He shook the talisman up and down and left and right a few more times, and then sighed. "I never was a faithful man..." He put the talisman into one of his pouches. "But a lucky charm never hurts. Let's go." And with that Sevroy walked to the waterway, sword and shield in hand.

He noticed two nearby hollows and some more up the stairs. Once Sevroy got close enough, it seemed, the hollows immediately reacted to his presence. The nearest one made some sort of horrible, guttural, gasp or growl, he wasn't sure, and charged towards him. Sevroy blocked the novice attack easily enough - it was if some drunk was clumsily swinging a sword at him - and blocked a few more of those attacks before seeing a chance to safely attack. He let the shield down and made a horizontal swing of his sword at the hollow in a single, quick, powerful motion. The hollow made another guttural sound, but didn't seem to be very affected by the blood pouring out of the fresh and large gash on its abdomen. Sevroy's eyes widened for a moment- and then he made another horizontal swing, slicing the hollow's neck and almost completely chopping it off. Perhaps it was the blood loss or the fact that its head was almost literally hanging by a thread but either way, it fell.

The human warrior sighed and looked at the hollow soldiers up above. "...Osvalda, you take the soldiers up the stairs, try only taking one at a time. I'll be there to help as soon as I take care of this one", and after he gestured to the other soldier on the same level as them, he walked to it, his shield raised. He certainly did not expect the sudden explosion on his head.

"Agh! What the - ah! Gah!" He jumped up with a fright and scrambled for his helmet, his fingers sensing the fire that had caught on his helmet out of nowhere. He took several frantic steps back and finally got his leather helmet off and threw it onto the ground, gasping. He took a few more breaths, clawing at his hair to see if there were any burns. None; the helmet did its job, although it had been too close and his head still felt uncomfortably warm from the fire. Another small explosion in front of him, which also made him bounce back. He looked up and saw one of the hollows holding a bomb in its hand. Sevroy glared at it with as much hatred as he could muster and picked up his burning helmet. He was about to throw it at him - and then he stopped, and threw it at the remaining hollow on the ground level. It hit its head with a dull thud and made the creature stumble and fall back, over the edge and into the valley below. Thankfully, the helmet was still there, albeit on the very edge of the place. Sevroy frowned, but didn't walk to it. He would get it later. For now, he walked towards Osvalda, watching how his ally fought and ready to provide assistance.