Getting to know the Nameless One
Adrianna has been spending too much time in the Bulwark, and it shows. The poor dear has dropped some weight, lost some of her tanned tone, and has the general feel of wearyness to her. She sits on the stairs, looking down to the seals below, with something close to hatred in her gaze.
"You should really get away from this place," Walter says when he starts coming down the stairs. He carries a book in one of his hands, an old general. The leather cover still shows signs of dust, a splash of old dried blood. "It's taking its toll on you, Adri." There's some concern there.
Adrianna makes a small gesture with her hand, and shakes her head. "Someone should remain here, and in the end I suppose I am the one with the least to lose." She offers him a smile, before letting her gaze drop to the book.
Walter sits down beside of her, the book going to his lap. After adjusting his fighting sticks he digs out a pair of sandwiches, wrapped in cheesecloth, and offers them both to her. "Losing any of us would be a bad thing, Adrianna," he admonishes. "And I've found that staring at the same problem, day in and day out, never leads to a solution. Throw in the damnable voices and..." He shrugs.
The bites Adrianna takes of the sandwich are slightly larger than is strictly ladylike. "The voices are damned annoying," she allows, "Along with the rumbling of the floor." She lets out a soft sigh, then nods. "I suppose I will take a day or so off. After today."
A nod is given. "You can go back with me," he says, and there's no real wiggle room in the tone he uses. "Have you come up with anything?" A flask is passed her way next, some dark beer, and then he's opening the book and leafing through to find his page.
Adrianna gives a deep sigh. "No, I've not. No matter how I study them, the seals used refuse to give up their secrets. There's a lot of interest in here, Walter, but I fear exploring too deeply, and freeing whatever it is that's being held." She takes the flask, drinking from it to wash down the first sandwich.
Walter grunts. "I know the feeling. If we knew -what- was in it..." He taps the book when he finds his page. The handwriting of the journal has grown erratic. "The Nameless One." He snorts at that. "Rather trite, if you ask me."
Adrianna arches both of her brows, and leans over so she can better see the writing on the page. "The Nameless One," she echoes, and gives a delicate snort of her own. "Hardly helpful, and so very cliche."
"Even if this is the Nameless One that came before all other Nameless Ones..Yes," Walter agrees. "'He must be locked away at all Costs! Any Karm must take extreme measures, whagever it takes, in order to keep the Nameless One from escaping or all....Shadow is Lost,'" he quotes from a page.
"If I ever come across a Nameless One of my own, I am simply going to name it. It will cut down on the confusion for future generations," Adrianna offers dryly, though she falls silent as Walter speaks. Reaching out, she turns the page, and clears her throat. "So they were using its power, as well. And Bleys and Lilith thought that was such a splendid idea."
Walter nods. "Right. And any ritual that would work for such things would need its True Name, so not naming it has only hampered us further." He snorts, passing her the book.
Adrianna takes the book, and starts scanning through the pages. "Our ancestors failed to be much help in many things," she murmurs. "Yes, we know you struggled, Lord Kevitch. Yes, it was horrible. Oh, so very hard. But instead of all your bitching, could you please write down what you did to stop it? I'm fairly sure you didn't whine it into submission."
Walter reaches out to clutch Adri's shoulder. "You need some rest," he says, as if that might be why she were irritable. Of course, it's around this time that there's a terrible screeching noise, like metal doors being forced open. or shredded.
"I do need some rest," Adrianna agrees, "And Kevitch needs to be more helpful. If I could stra..." Her voice trails off at the screetching noise, and she looks to Walter. "That sounded wonderfully horrid, didn't it?" The book is placed down, on the step behind them.
Walter looks around. "Wasn't your stomach, huh?" He starts to stand, hands going to his fighting sticks. "Was it down, or up?"
Adrianna shakes her head. "Sadly not, darling," she says as she rises to her own feet, and draws her rapier. "I believe that it came from...up. But the room tends to throw sounds, I've found."
"Figures," Walter mutters. He rolls his shoulders and begins to climb the stairs with caution. The shuffling, moaning sounds begin soon after.
Adrianna polietly allows Walter to go up ahead of her, and keeps her blade to the side so there is no accidental stabbing of him. "You've simply got to be kidding me," she whispers at the moaning, shuffling sounds, and a second blade of flame comes to life in her off hand.
"I don't want to be crispy," Walter says in a quiet mutter over his shoulder. The candles that he's placed around keep the room well lit, at least. It makes it easier to see the skeletal figures that shuffle their way. The former guardians of the Bulwark.
"I will do all I can to keep from making you crispy, darling," Adrianna assures. She looks over Walter's shoulder, and curses as the figures come into view. "For once, I want something nice and simple. Human. Still-living," she sighs, and the flames are changed out for a small silver dagger.
"Not going to set them on fire?" Walter asks. He rolls his wrists, swinging his sticks, and then moves towards the slow mass of undeath, ready to engage. Blunt weapons may not be the best for such things, but sending a head flying off to smash into a wall and turn to dust seems to work ok.
"Bones and undead generally don't care much about fire," Adrianna replies, and moves into the fray once she has space to get around Walter and the swinging of his sticks. Crashing it against bone is probably not the best way to keep a sword sharp, but such things are put aside in favor of putting the creatures down.
There are, luckily, not a lot of undead. There were never many Karms here. But the ones that are prove to be a pain.
Even more than she is tired, Adrianna is frustrated. And so those undead Karms begin to take the brunt of it. She swears and insults in Mons under her breath, while working through a pair of the creatures.
And soon there's nothing but two living Karms and several piles of Former-Karms. Walter rubs at his arm, coat torn from a slash of bony fingers. "I think we're losing the place."
Adrianna touches at her cheek, bleeding from contact with the clawlike fingers of one of the skeletons. "I think you're right," she says with an exhale of breath. "We need more than just the two of us."
Walter nods. "Return to Karm and tell them. I'll stay. I can set up the wards to keep them out for a bit."
Adrianna slips her blades back into place, and gives Walter a nod. "I will return to you shortly, and with help," she assures, and places a hand briefly on his cheek. The smile is fond, but tired, before she turns to leave.
"Get some rest before you come back. And food!" Walter pats her hip before he looks for a place to make his stand. Candles. Wards. He has them.
"A sandwich and a nap, yes," Adrianna says over her shoulder, before disappearing out of sight and returning, one would hope, to Karm.