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Priscilla     The group shuffled in this time could be more flavourly called a cabal. A tiny handful familiar with the darkest of curses, one of them far /too/ familiar, one who has made a legend of himself skirting the grasp of the world's oblivion and his contracts with the unknown, and one other dead set on adjudicating, being the only other of this world to go to that place and come back alive, or rather, at all.

    So predictably, it's not one of Anor Londo's bigger, fancier, sunlit halls they meet in. It's still big, by virtue of who lives here, but either down into the mountain, or just enough of those endless floors that there aren't any windows at this point, and a spartan, almost tomb-like grey. It looks, by all appearances, to be a room with no purpose. It's clearly no prison cell or storage area, and kind of chilly since nobody has bothered to install torches or magical lighting on a permanent basis. In all likelihood, it was just never finished, way back when.

    The enclosed space, combined with the sheer surfaces and high ceiling, make for excellent acoustic properties at least. Even an assortment of what appears to be basic church furniture, pulled in just to have some elevated surfaces to sit or put things on, doesn't break up the fact that they can hear each other's breathing, or lack thereof. Artorias himself manages to almost blend in as a statue, with his armour eroded and dull enough to almost be grey rather than silver, but his own gives him away; too drawn out, low-pitched, hollow sounding, and overall spooky to fit a heavenly knight.

    The real spookster of the room of course, is his sword, which has been described to all those present. The nine foot behemoth is laid across an especially long and sturdy pew, where it seems to suck the already scant light out of the room, and its pitted deposits of that black, hardened, almost mineral, liquid, look almost like they're trying to crawl down the handle and onto the wood.

    Priscilla is camped out opposite, standing out much more sharply due to all the white. Her own, newest weapon is with her, but she's not putting it within throwing distance of the once-sacred blade.
Heaven's Armory     Whether it is a matter of the different locale--some secluded chamber versus a monster-ridden cave past the edge of the known world--or simply a difference in the tendencies of the two weapons, where Ari did not appear until bidden by the offering of Psyber's foodstuffs, Svala appears all on her own. The younger-appearing of the two, she may be a half-familiar figure to at least Lezard, having last appeared in public on meeting Hawkeye Gough. Here, she keeps her place by Priscilla's side and her distance from the sword of Artorias, but does give nod of greeting to this second knight. Others, as they may appear in the room, are afforded politely curious looks in turn, at the least.
Reiji Arisu     Reiji Arisu is no stranger to ominous underground chambers with far too impressive acoustics. Shinra HQ, being the awful, sprawling, underground facility that it is has its share of vaulted chambers of mysterious and questionable purpose. At least one of them serves as the seal to some terrible mythological horror. Another serves as Xiaomu's Storage Closet. It's best not to talk about what's kept in there.

    Regardless, he is perhaps not as put-off as he aught to be by the sound of everyone else's heartbeat. The exorcist seems perfectly at ease in this dark, closed-off vault, which perhaps only serves to add to the vaguely occult ambiance. His purpose here is a simple one- to see a great artifact restored to its true nature.

That blade is cursed, and he IS an exorcist, after all.

One might say he's just doing his job.

    To that end, he has taken it upon himself to provide a bit of lighting. Not magical light, but a vast collection of candles, torches, and a handful of portable LED lamps, for reading without risking a book burning. Reiji sits on one of the pews nearest to the great blade, a tome cracked open on his lap. His eye is on the sword, however.

The sword, and the corruption within.

    "The Abyss really has done quite a number on it, hasn't it?" He muses, peering at the strange, almost fluid deposits coating the sword. Like darkened, sickly veins, he imagines, spreading corrupting energies wherever they touch. He's perhaps a little more familiar with the Dark than he should be-- he had to be, to come face to face with Manus, to help reconfigure the great Kiln. But he's likely not as learned as some of the others in this room. "The Pygmy really made an impressive mess. That stuff seems like it's actually /alive./"
Carna     Carna, despite being a resident of a world of Darkness and Death, has existed as a sapient being for a time period she is still not sure of, but which she BELIEVES to be less than that of those around her. Through skill and intuition, she has become a proficient killer, a hunter of Unlit. But there is still so much she does not even know about her own world, let alone this one nor all the others out there. But from early on, similarities have struck her between Lumiere and other worlds, and other realms. Discoveries made in the Library of Murdered Knowledge within Escher have established an even firmer link between Lordran and her 'home'.

    So a large part of why she is here is simply enlightened self-interest. If there is a link, perhaps learning about this world will help in her own. But there is also the attempt to change who she is. To be more 'heroic', whatever that means. To help others for reasons other than selfishness. More than a few have stated outright that their interest in Lumiere was the same as Carna's is in Lordran. That they were not there to help her or her world, but to benefit themselves. That not only was this not a world that could be saved, it might not even be one that could be mended to a state of functionality.

    This world is the opposite. This world, from what she has gathered, had things that were broken, where there was a precipice being headed towards, and the 'Elites', for whatever motivations, managed to pull it back and change the course of fate. To see the options laid before them and find another path.

    Is it truly saved? When one will know when a world is 'safe' from destruction? When do the dangers to said safety end?

    The dead woman approaches Artorias and the blade laid out nearby cautiously. She has hungered for Light. Something to fill the emptiness inside of her. Perhaps something to fill her broken world. Will she find it here? In Lordran? Is there something that could be transplanted from this realm to hers, that would change a fate that has already come to pass? She doesn't know. But when she looks at that sword, there is a different urge. One she doesn't like, but that has an undeniable appeal.

    "Yes. Alive, but lifeless." Carna mutters thoughtlessly in reply to Reiji. "Hungry with need to fill it. Or to empty others." She thinks she understands perhaps a bit better how a group like those 'Stone Devils' that Kord mentioned could form. Because the pull of a hungry Darkness, a hollowness formed of unknowable fear, is very real. There's an emptiness inside of her. And the possibility exists, that Darkness within says, to not try to fill the hole in her being, but simply to spread it.

    It's possible someone stops her before she gets too close. But if they don't, Carna has to stop herself when she realizes her hand is reaching for Atorias's blade. Either way, she withdraws a short distance, and looks to Sylva and Priscilla, and then to Artorias. "What is required to remake this weapon?"
Lezard Valeth Lezard is quite present. He's had a keen interest in the blade and its curse ever since the return of the Knight. After all, Lezard himself seems to have all but attempted to inherit the power of Manus, taking up the Father of Man's gnarled staff as his own.

He bows to Priscilla and Artorias as he arrives, and nods in greeting to Svala, though the unusual being is not familiar to the Necromancer of Midgard. That is, while he's /seen/ the being, he is ill informed as to what it /means/.

Lezard doesn't like not knowing things. He is, however, polite to the woman, only turning at Reiji's own comment. "That's because it /is/ alive, Reiji." He states simply. "After all, is the Abyss not a pit that houses and reflects the endless hunger and Dark that makes up Mankind?" He chuckles at that, and steps towards the blade, leaning in towards it for a moment. "Were this any lesser weapon, it would surely have been utterly consumed. It is a testament to the, ah... skill of its creator."

He nods to Carna. "Quite right, Carna... Care to attempt to take up the weapon?" He chuckles... But then interposes a hand with a sweep when he sees the hand begin reaching out. "I would advise against it, actually. That was a mere jest, and I would be disappointed to see you be consumed by such a force."

He then steps back, and considers, tilting his head. "Do you believe this curse might be dispelled through your workings, Reiji? How much do you understand of the nature of the Abyss and how it afficts that which are suffused too deeply?"
Priscilla     "Even if one is to make peace with that which dwells there, the very nature of the place . . ." Artorias begins haltingly in response to Reiji. "Even left alone by the creatures of the ocean, the water itself will still rust iron." His armour clacks very faintly, audible only by virtue of the room's blankness, when he inclines his head at therest. "Pygmy? To whom do you refer?" It's likely he knows who that is, if Reiji really breaks it down for him, but terms like that are Occult history that only beings as old as Gwyn and a handful of multiversals are privileged with.

    He looks as if he's about to move first, before Lezard makes the wise move of stopping Carna, leaning back against the wall again in mild relief. "To remake it, requires the forge of the gods, the blessings of the true divinity, and some of the oldest titanite, but it is not beyond the means and skill of those who have returned. As it is, however, what grips it, refuses to be changed, wishing only to inflict, rather than receive." He puffs out his chest very subtly at Lezard. "Truly I am glad to have ever been proved worthy of the confidence required to bestow such a gift, even if only once upon a time."

    Priscilla speaks. "Not that thou art likely, but I wouldst advise thee very much the same, Svala." That doesn't sound like a lack of formality. Parsed how Reiji's culture would: 'first name basis?!'. "I am certain thine father hast imparted thee with a healthy sense for self-preservation, but I am even more certain that, shouldst the taint that lingers upon the holy sword remain so alive, it wouldst like little more than to transition to be more like thee. Thou the blade is powerful beyond compare, it is not so . . . useful to it as thee." It's a little bit odd to hear her using the high latin of this world while Artorias is comfortable speaking the lingua franca, though the reasons for why are obvious.
Heaven's Armory     A nod to Svala is returned, but for all her apparent interest in and (relative to Psyber's sword) greater warmth toward the figures around her, Svala shall still remain a mystery to foreign magi while there are such pressing matters as a cursed sword to exorcise, at the least. On the other hand, perhaps some measure of mystery will fall off through proximity, as she speaks readily enough. Her voice would be quiet in any hall less still than this one, yet still gives the impression of one hushed, while easily audible.
    "An unknown corruption carries a great risk." And for any being that wishes to exist for a long period, risks must be taken when needful, less otherwise. Svala tilts her head up, to look at Priscilla. "'Transition,' you said? I would expect it to be a thing that spreads." It's safe to say she's had no personal experience with the Abyss, having come to this land but recently, relative to such tales as that of the Abysswalker.
Reiji Arisu     "I suppose you might think of it as alive, in the same way that a virus could be called alive," Reiji answers Lezard. "All it seeks to do is to consume and multiply, to spread and devour the light. The abyss is no mere darkness- it's like... It's to darkness what chaos is to flame." He turns a page, eyes slowly scanning through the contents of the tome on his lap. "As far as exorcising it goes, I believe it's possible- but only if we can somehow draw it out of the blade. Letting any of it fester inside would only allow it to reassert itself over time. Any removal would need to be complete and final."

    "As far as the Abyss' influence on living things goes, I have read through what the Archives have to say on the subject. And I'm well aware of its... transformative nature. But I've never experimented with the stuff. Seemed like a bad idea." He does not particularly like the idea of being turned into a giant gnarled root monkey thing. "I know that the Abyss is consumptive, first and foremost. It's hungry, avaricious, and that it twists the physical body to better accomodate its needs and to reflect its nature."

    He glances up at Artorias, then. "The Pygmy. You've met him before, I think. He was also called Manus, Father of the Abyss," Reiji shook his head mildly. "The one closer to the dark than any other. But the water analogy is interesting, now that you bring it up. It does seem to... flood whatever container it's offered, doesn't it? But it never dilutes, it just keeps growing and spreading."
Lezard Valeth "That fear is what limits you, Reiji." Lezard replies, smiling. "However, one cannot blame you, one supposes. It is only sensible. But then, consider the edge between genius and madness."

He looks to Svala and nods. Oh, to be sure, it would absolutely seek to infuse itself into anything it can. Such is the nature of the Abyss. To withstand it requires either a titanic will and powerful protections..." He gestures to Artorias at this point. "But behold, even this paragon of nobility and divine protection was unable to fully stand against it in the end. No, this is no simple matter. One would need to find a way to plumb a way to scatter the curse away..."

And then he pulls out a small, simple pendant. "Or a way of dealing with the problem in an alternative fashion." He tucks away the object, instead rummaging in a pouch and pulling out a small, mottled grayish stone which bears a small skull-imprint. There is an unsettling aura about the object. "Lordran is a land full of curses, I would note. There are many creatures in this place that can provide rather... unpleasant ends that would etch themselves upon thy very soul. The people of this land had learned something valuable however. While a curse may not be broken, it /can/ be transferred. Nothing of value in Lordran comes without sacrifice. Stones such as these have been used to absorb the curses of Lordran... to a point. They were useless against the Darksign, and would be similarly impotent against something such as this. However... The principle remains."
Carna     "Yes... Just a jest." she repeats Lezard's words. She doesn't want to seem... Too eager to take up that thing. It could limit her options and her involvement if people are suspicious of her. So she tears her shadow-obscured eyes off of it and onto Reiji as he describes something about a pygmy and a man-thing. "Is this Manus an authority on the Abyss we could consult?" Carna turns her head this way and that as she peers at the instrument they seek to reforge. The concern for Svala being consumed by whatever is in this sword is not fully understood by Carna, beyond the basic idea of not wanting people to be corrupted and destroyed. So it simply plays in the background of her thoughts, likely to be forgotten by the time this conversation is over if she doesn't write it down.

    Speaking of which, she pulls a journal forth from within her cloak and starts making notes, trying to draw the weapon before her as accurately as possible. Blast, she's already forgotten parts of things said since she first arrived here. She should have been writing long ago.

    "If this Abyss is as fearsome as described, I wonder if it might not be better to leave the sword as it is. To find a way to wield it safely rather than to remake it." She does not glance up as she writes. "There are things that need killing. Does the nature of the instrument truly matter if it is fit to the task?" Perhaps realizing by some small amount of social interaction she has learned since encountering these Living, that she may seem to be questioning those who know far more than she does, she looks up and bows her head respectfully to Artorias. "I seek only to understand the options available. It sounds as though the journey to restore your weapon will be filled with hardship and time-consuming. If there is the potential to avoid unnecessary or complicated negotiations with beings deemed 'gods', while still making the weapon usable, then muting the effects upon the wielder might be a more viable option."

    Carna glances to Lezard and says, "Perhaps, though intended a jest, there is some merit to the suggestion that another might take up this 'curse'. Some have less to lose than others. But if returning it to holiness is the more prudent choice, then I will do all that I am able to support that task. I simply have seen evidence that divinity, real or imagined, does not necessarily confer a desire for cooperation or charity, nor an absence of intent to manipulate and deceive." The Wall of Cruel Customs thought it was a god too, after all. Who knows which gods are really just a mass of parasites leeching off the work of others?
Reiji Arisu "No, Manus is very much dead," Reiji answers. He flips to another page. "Lezard and I were part of the group that killed him. Or at least, I hope he's dead. I'd be concerned if he wasn't. He might try to take back his staff if he was still skulking around somewhere."
Priscilla     "The curse that plagues mankind, is not an overpowering desire to spread. Such is the domain of unthinking animals, following only their nature. It is to want. To desire to becometh, or else to compensate for what one cannot. I doubt it wouldst ever relinquish the old for the new in such a fashion, but even as little more than a stain of its former originator, I can imagine little else than that it wouldst hunger for thine . . . form and agency. To becometh something more coherent than a mere mark." Priscilla, obviously, responds in full detail to Svala. The words are probably extra meaningful to the Lantern in the room as well.

    Artorias doesn't actually shudder, but a kind of sense that he would pervades the room for a moment after Reiji uses the more commonly known, and widely feared title, though only 'commonly' and 'widely' in the sense that double digits of people have heard them. "I can think of nothing of that thing to be referred to as dimunitive. For all the strangeness that permeates that realm, I can call little of it horrors aside he. I believe not even the most belligerent bow to him as sovereign, not much else than an unspeakably powerful madman, thrashing about his cell, and expanding its walls until whatever it was he desired so keenly fell within them."

    Priscilla almost laughs at Carna's legitimate, and pertinent, yet ill-informed question; she doesn't because of the former two attributes and that the last can be excused for obvious reasons. "An authority in the sense that an Unlit is an authority upon what lies beneath Lumiere, and about as easily consulted." She draws parallel to. "Unfortunately, that which Knight Artorias was tasked with, were best slain by this weapon's original design, specially built for that purpose. Though I shalt hardly assert that our gods art so humble and easily spoken to as to be desirable first choices, Knight Artorias is a treasured champion of most, and many owe him favours as a battle companion, to say little of his 'progenitor' being recently their king."

    Artorias gives off the posture of being mildly leery of what Lezard has in his hand, knowing perfectly well of its origin in Carim, but not nearly as much as you'd expect a knight to be on the subject of the human sacrifice that went into making that frequently appreciated token. Priscilla is completely indifferent, having long lived in a harsher and more practical age, though the age before it was hardly a fantasy tale for children. "I cannot ask you to sacrifice anything of worth for this purpose. That is of your volition and yours alone. All the same, I will not begrudge anything of the sort. I wish only for it to be done. This is the step of which there is nothing within my power to accomplish."
Heaven's Armory     Svala, still looking up at Priscilla as the latter speaks, tilts her head to one side. Presently, she nods. "I see. It is like a living thing, in the nature of humanity, rather than a disease made for destruction." What a spear can do about this is uncertain, but at least some aspect of her curiosity has now been sated. What it could do to /her/ is something best left undiscovered.
    Carna receives a look for her peculiar speech, though it is less jovial than bemused. Svala has already attained some familiarity with Anor Londo, city of the gods, in the company of another who was more inclined toward faith than most present. The contrast of presumption is striking. It is to her suggestion that the armament responds directly. "Without knowing what effects it would have, it is difficult to suggest that any given person would be deserving of taking on this curse, if that is even possible."
Reiji Arisu     "Hmn. Fear and caution might look similar at first glance, I suppose," Reiji answers with a shrug. "I'd personally rather not take the risk, or to subject living things to this stuff." That seems like the kind of thing Ouma would do, and that puts him all kinds of off.

    The Curse Stone does draw Reiji's attention like... Well, like a curse. But that's not all he has his eyes on. That pendant, he'd seen it somewhere before. Months ago, now. "...That thing you just brought out. Is that the same one from the Abyss?" The gears in his head begin to churn. A pendant capable of deflecting and pushing back the Abyss, and a repository to contain it. That's what they needed, wasn't it? The problem is, though, that coaxing the Abyss from such a perfect container will be... difficult. But-- "Hmn. Is there something- someone within Lordran capable of creating a more... effective version of those stones? What about the Goddess of Sin?"

Because all plans can be improved with the addition of Velka.

    "Or, possibly, a pendant like the ones Lezard once used could be capable of driving the curse out-- or at least encouraging it to leap to a less desirable vessel. Sort of like a catalyst, you see?" He thinks for a moment more, brow furrowed slightly. "A combination could be the most effective. But there is... another way. Possibly."

    "Firekeepers," he says, hesitantly. "Their souls draw in the dark, don't they? I'm not saying we use one who is still alive, but the way souls linger in Lordran... It could be possible that we might find one that still holds that power, even after death."

"Or."

"Knight Artorias," Reiji asks, looking to the divine warrior. "You said that Manus desired... something, right? What was it do you think he might have been looking for?"
Lezard Valeth The explanations cause Lezard to nod. When Artorias shows the limits of his willingness, Lezard nods. "Thus it falls to us." He turns away from the Knight at that, looking to Svala.

"That would be true... In a sense." He agrees. "However, what if I proposed storing the curse /elsewhere/ than a person?"

The mention of Velka causes Lezard to scowl. "Depend not on such beings, Reiji. Velka keeps her own counsel and desires. I see no reason to share ours with her."

He shrugs. "One supposes we could use a Fire Keeper if you were willing to find one who is willing to stand as a sacrifice. My own plan is... Somewhat more direct." He gestures with the stone. "This stone would be worthless in attempting to take on a curse that powerful. However..."

He smiles. "Were one willing to craft something on a larger scale, combined with the ancient techniques of Seath the Scaleless... He did, after all, craft golems specifically designed to contain... samples. We could combine our approaches, perhaps."
Heaven's Armory     Svala turns her attention from Carna to Lezard, thinking for a moment before giving a nod. "A curse that contains a wish to become something." That could be used against it, as already considered. "It need not be a person." Perhaps Reiji's pursuit of Manus' motivations would be relevant. Svala turns her curiosity in that direction, in case Artorias has an answer.
Carna     Carna understands the meaning of what Priscilla says, and accepts the explanations offered as to why her proposal isn't a good idea. So she bows her head in acknowledgement and does not further push it. She isn't certain why she felt so compelled to protect such a curse anyway. Beyond that... Nagging inside. Lezard's proposal still seems to have merit, however, so Carna moves to seat herself on one of the benches provided and listen. And write. She has said more than she usually does, and that is quite enough for now.
Priscilla     "The silver repulses the Dark, not the damage it has caused." Artorias notes simply to Reiji. It's unclear why he doesn't want that pendant back. Can he just get another one? Has he lost his attachment to it after so long? Does he feel like it failed him? "As for the Abyssal beast, I couldn't guess. All I know is that he seethed with a kind of . . ." Oddly, the bitter edge of his voice falls off. "Longing, I supposed. Something he missed, and would do anything to reclaim. I'm not certain it even exists."

    He shifts a little uncomfortably with the mention of Firekeepers and Seath, but Priscilla gets up first. "Such matters art beneath the responsibility of a Knight of Gwyn to pursue. I shalt see that it is done properly. I hath little left the palace as of late regardless." Artorias seems mildly torn on whether to accept that, but probably remembers that Priscilla got to this position by being a Union adventuring type, and so concedes the difficult matter of honour to someone else, taking it off his shoulders. "Very well. I shall await patiently and in good faith for what it is your trusted comrades are able to do."