Svari kept his shoulder braced against the door for a few moments, not certain if the blast of snow would throw it open again if he let up. He had barely managed to force it shut in the first place. "A damned blizzard, inside the tower?!" he yelled incredulously. "Maybe ... maybe the wall is rotted away, and it's open to the elements in there?"
He glanced over at where Kort had fallen. Despite his confusion and shock, he couldn't help but laugh at Kort's appearance. "You uh - you look a little cold, my friend," he managed to get out between chuckles. "Here, let me help," he said, reaching over and brushing the majority of the snow off with a few forceful pats.
Post by forg3ttablexs0ul on Nov 19, 2022 20:39:40 GMT
There were a few moments of minor disappointment that Kavalkad had experienced in his life that he noted. One, the first time he wielded a knife, and cut his thumb open on accident. As a matter of fact, Kort had been there, and his words verbatim were, monotonous and bored, "You absolute fool." Another was when he had tied his shoes together when he was half asleep. The moment his forehead hit the floor, his only thought was how much of an idiot he could be at times. A similar feeling of a general "sherpas damn it" was when the magical blizzard door(or whatever this waste-forsaken thing was) blew open, knocked Kort on his rear after turning him into a snowman, and letting forth a gust of wind and snow so unexpectedly violent that it simply ripped the cigarette in half in his mouth, the only thing remaining being the stale filter he had pinched between his incisors. When Svari finally used his bulk to force shit the door, and Kavalkad had a moment to gather the event, all he could do was pinch the bridge of his nose. He sat quietly like that for a few moments before simply sighing, "So... now what?"
As Svari helped wipe the snow off of him Kort had to realign his thoughts. "Well certainly not back out through there!" Kort said as he shook his head. Kort could feel something on his chest and it wasn't removed until Svari gave him a big pat. There sat Sparsams tome in his lap. "Considering how everything else goes in this tower, a spirit could have just handed me this instead of trying to kill me!" Kort yelled as he stood back up. Kort put the book into his bag, "So I refuse to go back down I guess we'll head up. Ain't no way anyone is in that room alive." Kort said they started to walk up the stairs.
They checked each floor again but something was different, these higher up floors were somehow emptier and yet nicer than the floors below. Like instead of tight cramped cubes each floor has more separated rooms. Perhaps this was for the more important people, but wouldn't the more important people want to be with the others? It didn't seem like a useful set up usefulness wise. On floor 36 one room caught Korts attention. A skeleton in fine clothes holding onto a jug of frozen black liquid. "Do, do you think the liquid kiled him? Cause if so why does it look like he wanted so much? A faster death?" Kort thought aloud to his companions. "Whatever it is I'm not touching it, the last old world thing I touched didn't stay in long and I rather not have that happen again.
And with that they continued back to the top, towards the light.
Svari eyed the dark bottle suspiciously. "I don't know if it is what killed him, but don't want to consume something left here all this time with the restless spirits of the dead. Who knows what evil curse it might carry by now," he said. "Every other room we see here has some horrible aftereffect of the dead."
Just as he was backing away from the desk, a screeching noise pierced the group's eardrums, and two bats soared down from the corner of the cieling and over their heads, flapping off to Sherpa's knew where. Svari shivered. "You see?! Bats are an ill omen! Elder Tjonka always used to tell me they portend death, because they survived the coming of the endless white by taking protection from dark spirits."
He wasted no time leaving the room. If anyone else wanted the bottle he would leave it to them.
Post by forg3ttablexs0ul on Nov 19, 2022 22:03:20 GMT
Well, Kort had moved on, and Svari was being superstitious; They had just encountered what Kavalkad could only describe as spirits but a rock still sat inside him, and he rested his good hand on the handle of his revolver inside his jacket as he took a heel-heavy step into the room, trying to use the louder steps to draw out any unknown surprises. That demon that carried the priest was one thing, the spirit echoes that attempted to ravage their minds was another, but bats? No. Damn the wives tales, he would feel fear against true death, not old omens. His slow steps stopped beside the frigid skeleton. He unscrewed the lid and sniffed it, letting the bones hold their belongings, and the jugs faintly rotted stench that somehow held through the ice made his nose scrunch. With that, he tossed the lid aside and turned to the rest of the room. He sifted through a couple of the metal cabinets along the wall that held his exit to test his luck, but it was all faded writings he could not read. That was until, he opened a bottom drawer, and discovered a wrinkled, thin plastic bag of sorts, with a pendant inside. At least, He thought it was a pendant. It had a metal ring, and a little colored rope holding a charm of sorts. He wasn't exactly sure what the iconography represented, but the blue winged animal with flowing rainbow hair was definitely.... different. Perhaps he could trade it off as a child's gift or even to one of those ladies into 'cute' things back home for some extra friendship points, whatever benefit that would help him with, he mused. He stepped out of the room and held it up to his friends. "It's a bit too colorful for me, but it's well made, and still an old world artifact. Perhaps it will fetch us something decent in a trade?"