All of it, apparently.
The Raggedy Man, as he had just been named, tried to focus on one voice, one direction, a mouth, a form, and gave up after the first paragraph of hissing speech. Every shadow and crevice seemed to be giving voice to the thing he'd been desperately trying to butcher moments before. Every nook and patch of darkness chimed in, like a chorus that was not complete unless all throats were raised as one... but when they were.
Kasoria swallowed and even that simple gesture seemed to hurt. Blood pitter-pattered from his wounds, down his back, into his boots. He was leaking like a fucking sieve and he didn't have time for lessons in fucking etiquette from some-
That sounded good. Good enouugh for a ragged smile to match his sobriquet split his bearded face, crooked and torn into flesh like a wound with teeth. But it did not last. His guard stiffened and the smile vanished as a flash of light revealed a flash of-
Something else. Something that was a nightmare of a woman. Something too stretched, too thin, with fingers like blades hammered into hands and eyes that burned in the darkness. The after-image was all he seemed to see. His eyes had barely focused, widened in shock, and then it was gone. A very real hiss followed, and Kasoria was sure that whatever these shadow creatures were, that was their true form.
Then the voice spoke one more time - it was hard to think of it was a person anymore - and Kasoria resisted the urge to snort with foul humor. Oh. And he was supposed to just believe that, was he? What fucking world did she think they lived in?
Still... you ain't dead. Best capitalize on that before you collapse, boy.
Kasoria gave his answer with his actions. Steps as careful as if he were dancing with a roused scorpion, he slowly made his way to the doorway, lit by the torches behind hit like a golden rectangle. He turned as he moved, facing it the once, then faced back the way he'd come, unsure where the blow would come. Because it would bloody come, he was damn sure of that... and yet...
His free hand grasped the handle, and ripped it open without any fanfare.
Light spilled inside the black room. Not enough to illuminate it completely, but enough to cast a blaze of illumination around the Raggedy Man in the doorway. Only then did he dare to relax his guard. He briefly considered grabbing a torch and tossing it inside. Plenty of kindling. Paper, wood, parchment, dust, cobwebs... it's burn fast and keen and whatever was inside, well... light was bad enough for their kind, but burning and choking? That would finish what he'd-
Now it was his turn to his. His wounds clamored from his mauled skin. He needed to go, and not waste anymore time. But before he did, he spoke-
-and not to her.
"Hey? Hey?!" Once he had the attention of the bearded man, he jerked his hand quickly to the door and grunted again. "Fuckin' come on if yer comin'."
Murderer he may have been, Kasoria was willing to give the man a chance. A slim one, offhand and no elaborated further, but he'd earned that much... even if the question of why he'd been following did require an answer. Probably not when he was dribbling blood from several different spots.
Once Oberan had taken the hint and scuttled away from the half-dark room inhabited by a fiend from hell (wise man, if so), Kasoria would be left... somewhat along with her. Peering into shadows and nothing, into the abyss he'd read about in a book he'd devoured without remembering the writer. The thought made him sneer for a moment, and his karambit went back into its sheath.
After he wiped it clean, for it was slick.
If it bleeds, it can be killed. If it retreats, it knows fear.
They're not immortals. Not even close.
"Until that day."
Those were the words he gave to her. An old Sunberth saying, challenge and farewell and oath and grisly promise all at once. Fatalistic or good-humored, depending on the speaker, audience, and circumstances. Kasoria had heard it a hundred thousands times. Between old friends leaving the drinking house, hand clasped in hand before their parting. Over a fresh grave, with loved ones leaving their gifts and promises to light the way for the departed, until they could be reunited again.
In the air between bitter rivals, final mortal skirmish delayed until another time.
They, and the slow, definite nod that came after. 'Twas was all the respect the Raggedy Man could give to anyone enough of a bastard to try and knock him off. But he gave it nonetheless. He nodded to the shadows, and then was away, following Oberan, and making damn sure he kept his limping, bleeding arse to the glare of torches.