Knocking on Deaths Door

“Payback for haulin my sorry ass round earlier.” She replied to Soul as they entered the spectral version of the cathedral. “Next time it’ll be yer turn again and just so ya know… I plan on nappin the whole way.” The chuckle in her voice lasted until Soul told her not to touch his body. Kit raised a questioning brow but before she could ask, the familiar tones of Karthus resounded throughout the room.

Not a moment later a disturbing sensation enveloped her being. It reminded her of that time she got stuck trying to crawl through the broken slot in the fence back home,  being pushed and pulled at the very same time through an opening that was much too small.

As quickly as it had come, the feeling was gone.   Kit exhaled in relief to find everything had returned to its normal state of solidness.  Well,  everything except for the pack.  Only Kari and Soul had come back with her this time but unlike before, the huntress wasn't worried about the others.  Their presence still lingered in the back of her mind, as if somehow they were with her even if they couldn't be seen.

Smiling at the thought, she shifted her weight to keep Soul braced up and  listened as the Boss continued speaking.  The huntress accepted the praise with a bow of her head.   The gesture  might have been humble gratitude if it weren't for the truth.   Kit had absolutely no idea what she had done or how she'd done it.

Luckily Karthus seemed to be alright with her asking and boy did she have questions, lots of them, a whole head full.  Only one query really stuck out though.  To her credit she kept her fidgeting to a minimum and waited till she was sure not to interrupt before speaking. “Fore I get to askin bout other things, I think Soul is hurt.  Can ya fix em up?”

Karthus descended fully to the floor, the edges of his crimson robes just barely brushing across the masonry. Try as they might to denote their own injuries, Karthus was unfazed. He had observed the battle, and knew that they were both in worse shape than they led on to be. The mote of blackness in Soul's essence did catch his eye, however, as Karthus' bony hand lashed out to grab the wisp of dark flame as it flickered about Soul's form. Soul would feel a great discomfort, very much like when Alasdair was attempting to gouge out his entire essence...But this was more acute, much more localized, as Karthus held down and examined this single mote of Soul's essence. After a few minutes, the Deathsinger released the flicker. "It should not spread, but I cannot remove whatever taint the Ruined King's lapdog has seeded you with. All I can say is that the should not grow within you. Now, for you physical ailments..."

Karthus held forth his orb, which seemed to drain all light from around it. This unholy glow grew darker and darker, suffusing the area with negative energy and revitalizing the bodies of the nearby undead, healing any bodily wounds they may have. Satisfied, Karthus ceased channeling the spell and lowered his orb as he turned back toward Kit. "One thing you must always remember in your unlife is that this is the only second chance you will get. It is incredibly difficult to retrieve a soul from beyond Death's Door once...But impossible to do so twice, without fell magicks that are beyond even my capabilities. Furthermore, while you will no longer feel as much pain, and your body has grown much more resilient, your undead form is much weaker to the magics of light and flame."

Karthus turned and hovered back toward the center of the cathedral, where the air veritably thrummed with dark power. Assuming that Kit and Soul had followed him, Karthus did not turn back to face them when he once more spoke. "You also cannot heal naturally, although your gifts may make up for that deficiency, given practice...Your body is fueled by negative energy, which can be channeled in specific spells or found here, in my Cathedral of Unlife. However, I cannot re-attach a lost limb...But we may be able to work around that in other ways.....Regardless, try not to deal yourself any permanent damage."

Soul cringed as Karthus reached inside him, and although it certainly wasn't a fun process, when Karthus told him it wouldn't spread, he almost breathed a sigh of relief. Patting his chest and taking a deep breath, he followed behind Karthus and Kit, listening in silence.

The topic soon switched to weapons, and his eyes lit up a bit. "Well...uh, not a bow, but it's better than two fists when it comes to fighting, right?" He clumsily removed the sheath of his knife from his waist, flipping it over and handing it to Kit with the handle facing her. "I'd give you the sword, but...a hunting knife seems more your speed. That and I'm still learning how to use my sword myself."

He smirked a bit and stepped back after she assumedly took the knife, resorting to thinking to himself and daydreaming a bit. Not so much daydreaming, but certainly not paying attention to the others and just following idly. Occasionally, his hand would wander to his chest and pat it idly as if to make sure everything was OK.

With each new bit of information Kit was given, she held her head just a little higher, weary shoulders drew back and she walked a little taller. To be the hunter, granted leave to pass into the realm of the hunt was a gift. She accepted it with a sense of responsibility and no small amount of pride.

The side effects also made complete sense. Rest was defiantly needed, though six hours did not seem like nearly enough. Kit felt like she could sleep for a month straight and still be tired. As Karthus continued to answer her questions she did her best to stay alert and pay attention.

“Now there’s somethin ya don’t see every day.” Kit quipped, her head following the movement of the skeleton as it went walking across the room.

Kari did not find the trick nearly so amusing. The alpha growled threats at the corpse till it finally flopped to the ground. The dog gave a snort as if to say that this was satisfactory, trotted over to the skeleton and began attempting to gnaw on a femur.

Once Karthus had answered her questions, Kit answered his about the bow she left back home. She kept it short, simply a mumbled no and a shake of her head. The bow itself held no value, sentimental or otherwise. It was a tool, no more and no less.

"That aint gonna be a problem"  She responded when told she would be expected to remain stocked up.   "Just gotta get the hang of it is all."  The idea of being able to craft a bow, the kind of bow she had always wanted but never could afford held far more value to her than the cheaply made weapon she had left back home.  Kit walked over and sat down cross legged on the floor next to Kari. The wolfhound hadn't made any headway at all on the bone she was trying to gnaw.  Her muzzle passed right through every time.

The huntress suppressed a chuckle and let her spectral companion keep trying while she focused on something smaller. She picked a skeletal hand up by one finger and paused a moment, her head listing first to one side and then the other. Puzzled brows drew down in a look of concentration and then, as if remembering they were still there, she looked up at Karthus and Soul. “Um… I ain't ever made a bow before.” She told them with an apologetic look. “Y’all might wanna get yourselves a sandwich or somethin.   This could take awhile.”

Karthus would have raised an eyebrow toward Soul - if he still had eyebrows to raise. He simply resorted to glancing Soul's direction briefly. "It would be wise to save such temper for your enemies." The deathsinger chided briefly, unsure what was prompting such a radical mood shift in his minion. He simply assumed that he would handle the matter at a later time and looked back to Kit. "As Soul said, we do not need to eat, nor do we need to rest under normal circumstances. We have an eternity to wait."

Soul looked at the molded bone and let out a low whistle. "Wow. Remind me never to tick you off." He idly touched his shoulder as if he was imagining her doing that to his body.

"But that's a good start. Looks like you'll make a good bow." He almost reached out to touch it, then decided that she needed the material to work with, pulling away.