Solo Grave Encounters [Closed]

[Daedalus Dagwood]

(40th Day of fall, 513 AV)
(Late evening/23rd Bell)

Calender event thread is based around :

40th: Soulmist rolls in from the Dust Bed and Dust Bed Ridge. The result seems to be an especially uneasy series of haunting in the northern part of the city. Jebediah is seen in the city.)

The Gadgeteer's fingers lingered on the cold tombstone for a long moment, seemingly uncaring of the tremble of the twisted feeling that came with being in a cemeteryin the dead of night, as if the man wished to escape the hustle of the city to be in the company of loved ones. Of course, there was no escape for him. And still Deadalus was silent, saying nothing as he turned to sit down on his parents graves with back resting on their singular tombstone. Along the stone read: 'Vanderlay and Anberlin Dagwood. Loving parents, friends, and happy couple.' Grieving was delt with slowly and privately. And while he could make it through life happily living the rest of his days. It were his dreams that clawed at his mind. It was one reason why he decided to leave his home, not wanting to simply lay in bed after waking up from a night terror covered in cold sweat. Daedalus found himself awake. It wasn't uncommon for the Gadgeteer to be unable to sleep for more than a few bells at a time, if at all. He had never been one to be a hard sleeper. Often spending his nights at a table drawing schematic for ideas of items to make.

Pulling his long black coat closer around his body, Daedalus seemed to match the gloom of the cemetery with all black attire. Both his linen shirt and pants along with his scarf around his neck and and boots completely black. He was no fool to travel at night without a weapon so had his rapier holstered neatly set on his left hip. His backpack laid on the ground next to him as he simply lingered around the graveyard with no clear intent to do anything other than avoid restless sleep. Even though he had only arrived a short time ago, then spent five chimes observing his parents grave site he was about to grab his backpack then leave. However, a sudden sound from behind him made his brow quirk as he looked over his shoulder. Leaning to the left of the tombstone that blocked hid him from whoever was on the other side. Only allowing a sliver of his face to peer past the side of the stone. Wanting to stay hidden just in case who ever it was might be dangerous.

"Well, well, well... isn't this interesting." He thought to himself as he spotted two men with shovels nestled around a grave as they started to dig it up. From what Daedalus could tell they were grave robbers looking for loot of any kind. he couldn't hear anything they were saying as their words turned into unintelligible mummers before reaching his ears. Honestly, he had half a mind to just leave them alone to their own devices. However, it was clear that they were not going to stop until they found something and from the distance between them an his parents grave. It would be only a matter of time before they tried to dig up his parents. Daedalus rolled onto his stomach, to enter into a low prone position as he tried his best to stay hidden in the dark of the night. By sheer happenstance, he was suddenly happy his clothing were all black at that exact moment to blend in with the shadows.

From what he could tell the men were both human in appearance. The one just standing around could pass for a Vantha while and the other who was digging could pass for a Myrian male. They were both dressed in a lackluster fashion reminiscent of people who lived in squalor. "Most likely residents of the tent city when not defiling graves". From what he could tell they both carried shovels, the vantha looking human had a morning-star mace, and the other had nothing. Daedalus knew that shovel though could still bludgeon him to death just like any other blunt weapon with enough force. The both looked amazingly happy for some reason, which was odd considering they both looked like generally angry and unhappy people. "What the hell are they so happy about?" He curiously mused to himself.

He kept to the darkest parts of the the shadows, moving in a path that allowed him to crawl within the lengthy shadow of a near grave which blocked some moonlight. As he crawled through the shadow, he suddenly became interested in his own shadow. Halting his crawl as he looked over his shoulder to see that his own shadow was nestled inside the shadow of the tombstone he was crawling towards. With no need to rush to Daedalus's movements were decisively slowly to not be detected. He stopped frequently to wait for a moment before moving forward a few inches. Eventually he found himself hiding behind a random grave. Once he was there he couldn't help but read the tombstone with a smirk. "Sorry my friend, don't mean to disturb you. Just need to hide for a moment." He thought to himself before peering out past the grave towards the men. Daedalus smiled as he could now hear what they were talking about.

"Oh'aye. Seens'it me'self. Ole'jeb ain'there. Seens him in the city I did. Perfect chance ta'grab some loot." The Vantha looking grave robber spoke with glee to the myrian looking fellow digging up the grave. "I know. Twas wit'ya when'ya saw'um. Heck, it was my idea ta'come here in the first place." They both laughed as the Myrian stopped digging to wipe some sweat from his face. "Petch. You dig. I dug the last one." Daedalus watched them both as he listened to the way they spoke. Either common wasn't their first language or they were both idiots. From what he could tell it was the latter option. His hazel eyes watching as the men traded spaces so the person Daedalus deemed 'The Vantha' could start digging.

He waited still, trying to decide if he wanted to get involved. Honestly, would they really attack him if he simply asked them to not defile his parents graves? It was that type of optimistic nature that his youngest sister Gwendoline Dagwood was known for. He knew he had been spending way to much time with her for that to rub off on him. No, the best thing would be to lie, Bluff. Play the right cards if he didn't want to fight on the sacrosanct grounds where his family rested in peace. If he was going to do this, he realized that he would need a plan.

What or who would a grave robber fear? At that moment an idea came to his mind as the smirk on his lips grew into a wide smile. He started to button up his long coat to hide what he wore underneath along with hiding his raiper under his coat. It was unbuttoned at the hip to allow for him to quickly grab it if he needed it. He slowly wrapped the black scarf around his head. Looping it around his neck twice before lacing it around his head to cover his nose and mouth. The remaining length of the scarf was lifted up to wrap over his head to stuff down the other side of his head to cover both his ears. Lacing it through the scarf to then wrap the last of the length around his forehead head to cover all of his head and face. Tuning it into a makeshift mask to disguise himself where only his eyes could be seen through a slit. "Gods, I hope this works." He thought to himself as he stood up.

Standing as at his full six foot two inch height. Daedalus was glad to see he was five to four inches taller then both men. Moving from around the tombstone as he walked towards the men. His hand gripping the handle of his rapier as he spoke out to the men. "What are you two wretches doing." The words were smooth, soothingly confident. Yet, his words carried a threatening undertone.

[Daedalus Dagwood]

Daedalus did not truly wish to fight the two men, though he had a gut feeling that they would fight him rather than listen. So to avoid conflict, he had to become something they feared. He needed to be an example of that fear and act accordingly to the roll. He disguised his face to aide him in his act as to leave himself as physically vague as possible. During his eavesdropping, it provided him with one key source of information that he would base all of his future actions off of. They feared the cemetery gravedigger Jebediah. Which meant they respected people of power and could be intimidated. Too the two men, Daedalus simply appeared from thin air as they both missed his sudden rise from behind the tombstone. Only catching sight of him once he was already walking towards and speaking to them.

Out of instinct for their survival the both made the snap decisions to reach for any weapons they had. The myrian looking male already had his shovel in hand so simply raised the flat steel tip used for digging up like a mace. Even though he knew nothing more about myrians than the fact that they are savage warriors. He knew the man was human from the fact that a Myrian would have a better weapon than a dagger on their person at any point in time. From that point he classified the man as human, though continued to refer to him as 'The myrian' due to his look alone.

The second grave-robber was had his back turned to Daedalus since he was in the middle of shoveling a scoop of dirt out of the grave. At the moment after Daedalus spoke, the man dropped the shovel to turn around to look at who had found them. Even from the distance he stood, Daedalus could see the mans eyes. They lacked the vibrant hues that a true vantha would have, thus classified him as human as well but would still identity him as the race through appearance alone since he didn't know their names.

Before the Vanthan looking grave-robber could reach for the spiked ball of a mace known as a morningstar that was hanging from his belt. Daedalus raised a hand to halt the action, and spoke suddenly with a commanding tone to his voice. "Don't insult me. I could have killed you both already if I wanted too." A stern look filled his features as he could only use his eyes to talk for him since most of his body was completely covered. "We will have none of that you filthy infectious motley-minded ratsbanes." He said with a slight amount of determination in his words. Trying to use his words to force the men into understanding that they were lesser than him in every way. Hopefully, to understand he was someone they wouldn't want to fight.

The tone of his words caused the vanthan grave robber right hand to freeze where it was. The mans fingertips only inches from the morning stars grip before to stand as still as a statue. "I can't believe that worked." Daedalus thought to himself as he watched the two me glance at each other to try and figure out what to do. The myrian held up the shovel after nodding to his partner. The myrian deciding to take the lead in while the other stood still. Unsure if he should grab his weapon or if it would only trigger the strange masked man to kill them both. He decided to play it safe and stood still. "Who'er'ya Suppose'ta'be?"

It was a question that caused him to smile under the scarf that wrapped around his head. Honestly, it was a question he hadn't fully yet found the words to answer. So he avoided it. "Who am I? " Shifting his eye from man to man as he spoke. "I am wearing a mask to hide who I am. Thus, that was a stupid question to ask and I do hate stupidity." The soft hum of his rapiers blade rang out as he pulled it from its scabbard. He held it vertically forward at the level of his waist with the blades tip pointed towards the two men. Out of fear, the vanthan grave robber took a hold of his morningstar to lifting the steel spiked club in defense. The myrian grave robber just held his shovel up with both hands.

"All that matters to me is that you not dig up any of those graves." He turned to point the rapier towards the general area filled with graves where his parents were located. "I could care less about the other graves. But, If see any of those graves disturbed I will hunt you down. Cut off your arms and beat you to death with the heads that dug up those graves. Is that clear?" It was the fact that he told them that they could continue to dig up the current grave along with others that proved incentive enough for the grave robbers to agree to the masked strangers demands. "Oh'aye. We weren't going'ta dig them up over there were we mate?" The myrian looking human said after tapping his partner on the arm with the back of his hand lightly. "Yah'Stranger, we were just going to dig here an away from there."

As soon as Daedalus sheathed his rapier, the two grave robbers lowered their weapons. "Now that we have come to an understanding, have a good night gentlemen." Daedalus walked away from them, leaving the men to their own devices as he returned to his parents graves to retrieve his backpack full of his supplies. The most noticeable item seen peeking out of the bag was the long wooden handle of his torch.

After removing it from the bag, he rummaged through the backpacks contents to take out his flint and steel. He used the sharp edge of the flint to strike hard against the steel at an angle angle over the torch that laid on the rocky ground. Watching as small pieces of heated steel from the friction landed on the end of the torch which caused soon turned into a burning flame. After picking up the torch he turned to look down at his parents grave. "I miss you both." A sentiment of mourning he had just proven by the fact he just protected their graves by threatening grave robbers, and wanting to keep only their graves safe. He kissed the palm of his free hand before reaching out to place it along the top of the tombstone "I'll be back later with my tools to file and smooth the stone."

He left the makeshift scarf mask on his face as he turned around to walk down a path that would lead back into town. His pace was slow as he walked with a wanderlust, not really wanting to go home where he knew he would be met with a hard night of sleep. However, as he walked down the path he could hear the distinct cries of what sounded like a little girl.

[Daedalus Dagwood]

Trigger WarningGore and violence ahead

At that moment Daedalus's attention was drawn to a light delicate whimpering of a soft voice. His stride down the path diverted onto a patch of grass leading to the hillside towards dust bed ridge, now heading deeper into the cemetery. In some places the pace at which some things were moving seemed to be silently erratic. Likewise, it was the pace of life at which things didn't move that seemed even stranger. This was one of those moments to the masked man as his light foot falls squashed grass that covered a decrepit grave that he had to step on as he followed the sounds of the cries. He couldn't help but notice that whenever he thought he had found the girl, once he moved his torch to cast light on the place where the girl should be he would find nothing in its place. Then suddenly the cries would start again except further away.

The effects of his sleepless night had begun to wear on him as he as his free hand moved to rub circles along both of his eyes. He stopped for a moment to wave the torch around to see if he could spot the little girl anywhere, which he couldn't. With his left arm raised forward with the torch, his full attention was fixated ahead of him. He stood rigid and motionless staring like someone deprived of senses other than sight. His masked face veiled from the moonlight granting the all black dressed man a inexpressibly morbid appearance.

He was contemplating giving up the search for the little girl when something pulled roughly at the sleeve of his free right hand that hung down at his side. It was such a strong pull that it caused him to tilt to one side. Daedalus instantly moved the torch to cast light on what ever it what while turning half round to try and face whatever it was that tugged at him. When his hazel eyes fell on nothing but the empty space of a grave he didn't feel any sort of fear. Only a cold chill that seemed to recollect his self-awareness to not only focused only on what he could see sight which caused him to use all his senses again.

Daedalus started to turn in a slow circle while holding the torch out. All went silent for several chimes. Then, at what seemed a great distance, deathly echos of howling erupted form the darkness around him, the sounds lacing to combine with shallow sadden moans cascaded into the distance. When the howls faded they left a void of nightmarish silence. Then like thunder, a bloodcurdling scream broke the silence from the direction of his parents grave. And as the scream echoed through the night he recognized the voice of the Myrian-looking grave robber. The sounds of their screams caused the metalsmith to take of in a sudden sprint in their direction.

His foot falls heavily stomping against the ground as he ran towards where he last met the grave robbers. He didn't know if his mind was playing a trick on him, but as he ran past one grave he saw something out of his peripherals vision. He saw a woman. She looked sickly, with arms as slender as bone and a narrow frame. Her body draped in a white linen dress that ended down at her ankles. As quickly as he saw her once he turned his head to look at her the woman was no where to be found. The trick of his mind only slowed his pace slightly as he turned to look forward again and enter into a full running sprint again towards his destination.

"That couldn't have been her could it?" He thought as he ran at a rapid pace. He was sure that wasn't the voice he heard because it sounded like a child and the person he saw was a fully grown, yet sickly skinny, adult. Nothing to the normally logical man was making sense. It took him two chimes but he made to where he last saw the grave robbers.

The scene that greeted him was a hectic one as the two grave robbers swung their weapons wildly at three wolves that had surrounded them. They were back to back as they tried to defend themselves. The Myrian-looking man that he had heard yell had a large blood stain soaking at his left calf from what he could assume was from deep bite.

Daedalus drew his rapier in his right hand as he ran forward to help the men. Managing to cut a deep slash into the hind leg of one of the wolves as he caught it by surprise. While standing behind it, he then kicked it on the side of its body. Planting the tip of his foot hard into its rib cage to try and force the wolf to the side. His kick managed to make the beast topple over since it couldn't stand on its back leg. Once it was laying on the ground on its side, Daedalus lifted his arm to hold the blade vertically then pushed forward to stab the tip of the blade through the wolves neck. He aimed for the spine but missed and only managed to cut the the neck open as it bled out on to a patch of grass on a grave.

He quickly moved to help the grave robber who was wounded by waving the flames of his torch at the wolf in front of the man to fend it off. "GO! HA! YAH!" Daedalus tried to scare it off with the fire. It only served to anger the black wolf as it bared its teeth at him. "Thank the gods." The myrian said as he held up his shovel he was using as a weapon. "I... I can't walk!" Daedalus glanced down to see that it was much worse then a bite. He was missing a chunk of his calf and at that instant he knew if he wanted to live he would need to see a doctor to most likely have the leg removed. The man barely standing as he balanced on his other leg.

He turned placed the shovel on the ground to use it as a cane to keep himself upright. "Take this." He said as he handed his torch to the wounded man to use as a better weapon. The vanthan was fairing far better as the man managed to hit the wolf in the face with his morning star causing the wolf to topple to the floor. Only managing to bust one of its eyes with a spike on the spiked club. The beast not even whelping or showing any sign of pain as it stood back up to attack again, bleeding from an eye socket as blood soaked its fur.

Daedalus now focused on the wolf in front of him, taking an attack stance as his feet shifted to a shoulders length apart with his right foot taking the lead. His body was turned slightly to the side as he held the rapier at the level of his chest with the blade pointed vertically forward with his palm facing towards the ground.

[Daedalus Dagwood]

Daedalus kept his eyes on the wolf with lethal intent. Now that he was the key focus of the wolfs attention, he adjusted his stance and guard accordingly. Since he wasn't fightning a human with a sword, he dropped the tip of the blade to run diagonally pointing towards the ground running parallel to the bend of his led right leg. It was a strategic placement of his blade to defend low lying attacks. After witnessing the extent of the Myrian looking graver robbers legs Daedalus took the precaution of defending his own lower body. The wolf seemed to notice this as its slow creeping stalk towards him halted. Forcing the beast to back pedal a few feet before snarling as he started to pace from side to side, never once letting its gaze divert from the masked Daedalus.

The wolf looked to be content enough to wait him out in a stare down that started to become a battle of attrition. Daedalus didn't want to be the first to attack or break his defense to leave an opening for the wolf to attack. He needed to come up with a plan of some kind to gain the tactical advantage. He could hear the vanthan looking grave robber behind him slam the morningstar into the ground. From the sound alone he could tell the man had just missed a smashing attack. "STOP ATTACKING! You are just wasting your stamina, only defend and counter." Yelling as managed to come up with an idea that the wolves had used which appeared to work since it caught the grave diggers.

"Listen up. You with the torch, I am going to circle around the wolf then attract its attention. Once I have it, I need you to lite the wolfs fur on fire with the torch. I make it back up towards you." The grave robber holding the torch nodded as he received the masked strangers orders. "That petching monster ate'me leg! I'm going'ta roast yer'petching arse!" Daedalus began to compassing to his right following the path of circle to move wide around the wolf. Moving his leading right foot about four inches at a time while pivoting his front foot to keep his toes point at the wolf. It allowed him to never give up his back to the wolf as he kept his low defense with the blade held downward. He slid his back foot to the right shortly after moving his lead leg and always keeping his stance at a shoulders width apart. It took a moment as the wolf slowly turned with Daedalus until its tail was to the torch wielding grace robber.

He was now be facing directly opposite of the grave digger who readied the torch in his hand like a sword. Holding the base of the long handle in preparation to attack. Daedalus lashed out with a backhand cut, performed with the tip of the blade running at a horizontal arch. A wide attack to cover a large area. He truly aimed to cut a long slash along the wolfs face, trying to slash along its eyes.

The wolf practically lunged backwards to avoid the slash as it was in range of the torch fire. "NOW!" He shouted out the command as the Myrian looking male slammed the tip of the torch into the tailbone of the wolf which acted as a club to force the tail end of the animal into the ground. However, what was most important was the way he held the torch to its body. The flames slowing spreading along its fur as it went up in flames. Specifically, its tail first went up like a candle.

The sounds of his whelps of pain were like a sweet sound to each of the men. The wolf dropped to the ground as it started to roll in pain form being burned. Daedalus wasted no time stabbing the tip of his rapier into its chest, not specifically aiming for anything as he just wanted to kill the animal quickly. He retracted the blade from its body then made a downward cut with the tip of the blade along the wolfs neck. The now one-eyed wolf that the morningstar wielding grave robber was fighting quickly retreated to to run away after hearing the sounds that its fellow wolf pack mate's sequels of pain and resulting death. Daedalus reached to take his torch back from the wounded grave robber as his friend aided him by letting him wrap a arm around the other mans shoulder. "Aye'dun'think my leg'll heal right." The wounded man groaned as he hobbled down a path that led out of the graveyard.

"Thanks for the help stranger." The other grave robber said as he helped his friend walk. Daedalus didn't really know why he had went to the aide. Maybe it was due to the fact he had spoken to them and went through all the trouble of lying to them, hiding his face, threatening them, and putting in work to avoid himself coming to harm or by extension him having to harm them that forced his actions in wanting to save them Otherwise all of his past work would have been for no reason. "You both did as I asked in not digging up those graves so consider this a favor repaid."

He made a slashing motion in the air to fling the wolf blood from his blade then sheathed the rapier into its scabbard on his hip. Holding the torch in his left hand as he glanced backwards to the dead wolves. Its one that was lit on fires fur having burned away leaving only a smoking carcass as the flames died away.

[Daedalus Dagwood]

The two men walked down a rocky path overgrown with grass that laced in swaths around various graves. Every so often they would stop after a few paces to adjust the wounded mans arm along his fellow grave robbers shoulder which slowed them down drastically. Standing behind them, Daedalus stood patiently, waiting. He knew that it they would be going slowly but the pace was painfully time consuming. So, he simply walked past the two men deciding to lead the way with the torch light as he followed down the path. Daedalus found that he had seen enough of the grave yard for the night, and even his typical night-owl nature yearned for the warm comforts of his bed, nightmares and all. He wondered about the strange woman he had seen as he walked down the path, and where they little girl who was crying was. It was all just too strange.

As Daedalus shook the thoughts from his mind, he was about to reach for his face to pull the scarf from his head when a sound caught his attention. There was a whimper; a smooth and melodic cry of a little girl that actually seared into his mind enough to trigger an emotion from him. It was a cry that he head his own sisters made when his parents died, and the sound of this cry broke his heart just like the cries of his siblings. It took a moment for him to realize just how much it effected him; that it had caused a swell of sudden sadness that made his eyes water slightly. He began to blink profusely, trying to do away with the water occluding his vision; an act that seemed to work as he decided to leave the path way. Going to search for the source of the cries.

For the first time since he began looking for the little girl, he could see her from a distance sitting on a grave. From the looks of things the little girl was sad and terrified all at once as he moved closer to invade the the dim moonlit darkness with the bright light of his torch. With the purpose of wanting to seem nonthreatening Daedalus's free hand was raised to show his palm towards her as a sign to be calm and that he meant no harm.

By the time he reached the grave where she sat, his eyes widened as soon as he gazed down at her. She couldn't have looked more then seven years old, with blond locks that hung down to her shoulders. She wore a simple dress with a yellow dress with a red floral pattern on. However, it was the fact that the outlines along her skin were made of transparent worn edges that caused his skin to flickering in and out of existence that made it clear that the girl was a ghost.

She began to make sniffling sounds and pulled her knees upward against her chest; and there in the darkness, she spoke her first words to him. Her voice quivering slightly. "I saw you mourn for your parents. It must feel nice to be missed." Her somber words causing Daedalus to feel nothing but caution at the fact the ghost had been stalking him. "So? You knew I have been looking for you this whole time and you led me around like a dog chasing its own tail because?... You want someone to miss you?" He held the torch out in front of him to cast a bright light onto the ghost.

The little ghost shook her head from side to side. "No. I liked how you protected their graves. It made me miss my mommy and daddy. Could you help me find them? I miss them." Daedalus was off put by the request as his face formed a sour expression of disbelief that was hidden by the scarf. "What is your name?" He asked simply. Now curious about the little ghost girl. She looked confused at the question as she canted her head to the side. "I... I don't remember? I don't remember? I don't remember? " She started to repeat over and over again.

"Uh..." He looked ahead to the tombstone she sat in front of to read the words etched into the stone. The only legible thing on the stone were a date of death and the picture of a flower. His eyes glanced from the flower on the stone to the floral pattern on her dress. It took him a moment before realizing that it was her grave. And she had died way before even his parents were born. "I'm sorry but I can't help you, they are long dead sweety." At his words the ghost started to cry loudly. "But...But... But. I helped you? I saved you from her I led you away from her trouble making! NO! I don't believe you. I will see mommy and daddy again!"

"What?!" The words slipped from his mouth naturally out of pure confusion. "Who are you talking about." The tone of his voice growing rougher now that he knew he wasn't speaking to a child, removing the softness laced in his words. The ghost child smiled. "The nice lady in white who was watching you with me." Daedalus was about to ask her another question when the little girl simply vanished into thin air leaving him alone in front of her grave.

"Hello?" He said casually as he waved the torch around around now slightly disturbed at the fact that he wasn't going crazy and he had seen the ghost other ghost dressed in white. As he turned around he found himself a few yards from a wolf. Its eye right eye socket was bleeding and he quickly recognized it as the last of the wolves that had attacked the grave robbers. It did nothing except sit down where it was and stare at him for a extended period of time.

Out of caution, Daedalus's right hand gripped the handle of his rapier and drew the blade from its sheath.

[Daedalus Dagwood]

The wolf She looked up at him, expression quizzical, gaze appraising. That was when the beast started to stand up onto all four of its legs. It then ran away at a quickened pace to run in a large circle around a few grave stones. He watched, out of eye's corner, as the beast vanished into the shadows of the night. He took the defensive stance that he used before when fighting the previous wolf, holding the blades diagonally downward towards the ground in front of him. He slowly started to spin in careful circles to look around as he held the torch out in his free hand. His back straightened as his feet moved and pivoted in a way to stay in an attack stance even as he turned.

The noise and clamor of a body in motion at high speeds cause him to suddenly make a complete spin to turn around, he watched between the slits of the scarf that made up his mask as the wolf made a dead charge right towards him and was only a yard away. His shoulder with his rapier moved in an upward arch as the wolf lunged into a jump at him. Its fangs bared and ready to bite into flesh. The body and motion of the wolf was to close for the man to dodge so he continued with his attack. The tension in his arm as he swung to slash at the beast with the sides of the blade causing the muscles in his arm to ache. He hadn't even realized that his blade had started to slash up and open the wolves stomach while it was in mid air. All he could see were the fangs of the wolf as it bit down onto his left shoulder making puncture wounds causing him to drop his torch.

The animal died before its teeth could sink in deeply, though he now had four puncture wounds that bled profusely. Two atop his shoulder and to under them bellow the collar bone. The animals bead body slammed into him as which caused it to fall to the ground atop of him. "Gah! Get off!" He said as he had to let go of his rapier to unlatch the teeth of its jaw from his shoulder the kicked the beast away from him. His pants were now covered in wolfs blood from kicking into the wound to push the beast off of him. He looked at he shoulder as he shook his head. "I hate wolves..."

He stood up, grabbed his torch and rapier and made his way back to the path way that he was walking on with the two grave robbers. Managing to actually catch up with them again, and was shocked with how slow they were going. The vathan looking grave robber who was supporting his wounded friend glanced to the masked stranger covered in blood with wide eyes. "What in the bloody blazes of Ivak happened to you?" Daedalus squinted his eyes as he looked at the two men while still holding his rapier. "All you need to know is I petching hate wolves..." It was a sentiment that each of the men now shared.

[Daedalus Dagwood]

Ghost NPC's noteFor OOC reference. Even though they are one time NPC's I am playing both the ghost at as if they have possession (26), Materialization (14), Soulmist Projection (10)

Daedalus walked with just as slow, if not slower, than the pace of the two men as he trudged along the path. He was no longer going to divert from the main path or try to be a hero and save anyone else for the night. He believed that he life now owed him for his good nature to give him a break and a bit of good luck starting tomorrow. Still holding the rapier tightly in hand, he lifted it so that one of his fingers along the handle to press the fabric of clothes into the wounds to work as a makeshift pressure bandage to stop the slow bleeding that now soaked his shoulder under his coat. "I am buying or learning how to make armor tomorrow." He thought to himself as he made a mental note to stop by the library to take notes later on armorsmithing.

He examined the man in front of him, mouth drawn in a thin line as he watched them make their way closer and closer to the exit. His eyes shifted from one mans back to the other as he lowered the torch slightly. "Why didn't you save me?" They were words spoken at the level of nearly a whisper which caused Daedalus to spin around, not wasting any time as he attacked first. Spinning with a back handed slash which only ended with his blade missing as the ghost blinked away. "I don't even know you?" He responded to no one as the ghost simply vanished from his sight.

While Daedalus was facing the other direction, the woman in white possessed the grave robber with the morningstar. The man started to gaga as if he were drowning as the ghost fought for control of the mans body. As a result of the conflict, the grave robber ended up dropping his wounded friend to the ground. "Wh..wh..Why?" The man spoke as his hand started to begrudgingly move to take a hold of the morning star. "Why would you save the other graves? But leave mine to be defiled and plundered?" The ghost spoke through the man as she took control of him. It wasn't so difficult a challenge since the grave robber had weak willpower to begin with. "And why would you save them? They are trash."

The ghost lifted the morningstar, to used the mans body to smash the spiked ball of steel into the other grave robbers face. A visceral cloud of red erupted as pieces of skull and brain matter splattered against the ground as if it were a canvas for an abstract artist. Crazed with wrath, the ghost was as bestial and blind shell of a spirit, driven mad.

Daedalus could only stand there and watch as the ghost gripped the morningstar in two hands as it lowered the weapon to get some leverage before swinging the spiked ball upwards towards the mans head. Caving his own face in as the grave robber collapsed to the floor with the weapon embedded into his head.

[Daedalus Dagwood]

Daedalus began to feel a strange sense of been denial; a refusal to allow himself to feel any true connection to individuals and lives that were just taken from the men he so vehemently defended from the wolves. He couldn't allow himself to feel any sort of familiarity to the grave robbers. They neither knew his name or what his face looked like anyway. And so the typically efficient gadgeteer had to now live with the fact that all of his efforts had been wasted which resulted in nothing but negative results for the night. It was like crafting impure metal, so much time of his life wasted to only find himself as the target for a crazed ghost.

He was beyond torturing himself over it. They were dead strangers. Now he had to focus on the dangers ahead of him. The first question that ran through Daedalus's mind was how could he defend himself from something essentially incorporeal? As an Animator, Daedalus started contemplate what he knew about the soul that he used when creating the Life Principle of a golem. "Okay so what is a ghost?" He contemplated as he noticed that the ghost of the woman in white was no where in his field of vision. He could just stand around any more so he began to run. He ran with all of his might because his life depended on it. The strain in his legs wouldn't stop him, the sudden crapping in his stomach wouldn't deter him.

He accepted the intense pain as the a necessary sacrifice to ensure his survival as he managed to escape the cemetery. "Keep running Keep running." The torch in his hand was held high to avoid burning himself as he put his Rapier was put back into its sheath before he had begun to run. "The soulcore is what gives a soul its template of being a soul, a blank slate of life with no true aspects of the concept of life." He didn't notice, but his legs had slowed from its rapid pace into a slow jog. His mind racing for an answer as he didn't know if the ghost was still chasing him. "The second part of a soul is the persona, the information needed to give the core its personality, feelings, skills and memories."

Daedalus thought about how the little ghost girl couldn't remember her own name, or how long ago she had died. "Did the persona of a ghost slowly lose its information of 'being' over time after death?" It was a question that logically seemed to make sense since he had seen the effects of time on a ghost memories for himself.

Daedalus's legs slowed to a brisk walk once he found himself slowly entering Sunberth from the norther part of the city. "The third layer of a soul is the Astral body. It is the control. The key that allows the soul to unlock the the body to open is physical form and control it." The third layer caused Daedalus to pause his thought process to speak softly to himself. "Ghost don't have bodies?" He began to walk past several buildings on a path that would lead the born and raised Sunberthian on a path that led to his his apartment in Daggerhand territory.

Daedalus started to walk past the scattered amount of people who made up the nightlife of sunberth. A few shady characters whispering to each other in secret, a man drunkenly wobbling down a street singing a song, a woman trying to sell her body for profit as a large warrior looking type of man next to seemed to be her protection or the one forcing her to sell her body. He turned down a path leading between two buildings that formed an an alleyway that quickly grew bright from Daedalus's torch light.

It was a light that caused several rats to scatter as he had to step over the remains of a half eaten body to continue down the path. Even though he disliked rats, he understood why they were important to Sunberth's way of life. They slowly ate away at the rotten flesh of the dead that laid in the back alleys as waste management of those unfortunate victims of the cites culture. It was a morbid thought that caused him to shake it away to return to contemplating the anatomy of a ghost.

"The astral body is meant to control a body, if out of a body than the physical body would be dead." He remembered how the ghost could control the two grave robbers as it killed them through possession. "Those men were living and had an Astral Body of their own. A body wouldn't have two astral bodies which means a ghost that a ghost either, One. Doesn't have an astral body? Or, Two. the have some inherent ability that allow it to control the astral body of another. If so? What allows this to happen? What is this unknown part of the soul after death that allows a ghost to exist in the physical world without a body...this..This... unknown soul 'Layer-X' " Daedalus felt safe now that he was out of the graveyard enough that he slowed his brisk walk down to a sluggish meandering crawl. He would get home eventually.

[Daedalus Dagwood]

As he made his way through the solemn stillness of a fall night; his slow footfalls proved to be the only sound that he listened too sound. The further he went into the alley the deep shadows of bordering the edge of his torch light was consumed by the dark. As he could see a dim street lantern lit on the other side, he began to approach the exit with a mind full of questions about the metaphysical nature of life. It was a train of thought that caused him to think about the base principle of magic. Djed. "As 'existence' dictates, Djed is within all that is. Thus, that would make a ghost's 'Layer-X' must be a purer form of djed."

He paused in his tracks as his shoulder wounds started to burn with a sharp sting. It forced him to switch holding the torch to his right hand. He stood still in the glow of the light of its fire as he finished his train of thought. "As Djed cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed. Just like all things a ghost's 'body' could be disrupted. But by what?" That was when an epiphany struck him as his eyes snapped to the flame of his torch. "The 'Layer-X' is vaporous Djed, fire can disrupt it to harm a ghost." Daedalus didn't know the true names of what he had discovered, believing it to simply be imparting high heat onto moist vaporous djed like drifting fog to force it to turn change in to something else, most likely a gas. However it was called Daedalus now understood that a ghost using its soulmist to materialize could be harmed by normal fire.

As Daedalus smiled at the conclusion of his thought he was about to continue his journey home, he was unaware of what lurked behind him. It was there, though incorporeal, invisible to the naked eye. The woman in the white dress had followed him keeping herself to the plane of ghostly existence in which the physical world couldn't touch or see. And as Daedalus motioned his foot to move forward, the ghost entered into Daedalus's body fully intent on using possession to take control of him.

[Daedalus Dagwood]

It's the power that goes first in a deceptively non descriptive feeling; the way the body reacts to the sensation of something alien boring its way into the soul. The ghost had a simpler time taking control of the two grave robbers because their willpower was weak. However, Daedalus was not one to give up control so easily as he felt the alien sensation stir and grow within him. In the absence of what he had been, the way the ghost inside of him worked to rend the control of his arm from him felt like a sudden vibration running through his muscles until the sensation collectively focused on one the limb the ghost wished to move.

Inside of his body, there the internal war for control turned into a checker board game match of sorts. Daedalus could only nullify the vibration that the ghost stirred up within him as it tried to move his body. Blocking the sensations as he attributed it quickly with the ghost wanting control him. Like how one piece on a checker board moved behind another of the same color to halt the opposing piece from jumping over it and halting any forward advancement. By feeling for where the ghost wanted to control, then countering by concentrating on being as inactive as possible. His body simply stopped all major movements. From any outside spectator, it would look as if Daedalus was a masked statue, froze in place since that was all he could do to block the ghost from doing anything with his body.

Then suddenly, DAedalus's left arm jerked as if he was having a muscle spasm to rigidly swing upwards and reach out to grab at nothing but air. He could only halt the arm from rising any higher. Daedalus's left should burned like fire from the bleeding bite wounds on his shoulder causing him to groan in pain from the way his arm was outstretching. The low groans started to shift into scattered singular sounds as the ghost took the advantage of his shoulder pain to lessen his willpower to take control of the processes that control the bodies function of speech. "You didn't save me." It the woman in the white dress spoke through him in a rasped whisper.

Daedalus wished that he could lower his arm to lessen the pain that surged from his shoulder. However, he started to focused to stop the ghost from using his mouth which caused the ghost to get madder. His head began lashing from side to side, jerking violently, as his back arched in defiance. It burned through a good portion of its soulmist to force him to move. Daedalus concentrated on using all his willpower to simply keep his body from jerking. However, the pain his body now felt did cause his focus to dwindle giving the ghost moments of advantage. His arm would jerk every so often, his leg would bend, and his head would jerk from side to side as several chimes quickly past.

It wasn't hard for the ghost to control his lower body after the amount of running he had done to escape from the Cemetery. Both of his legs ached with blistering pain in his calves. Luckily, the ghost was unaware of how his body ached since it couldn't feel pain to take advantage of those facts. If it only knew to focus on his legs it could have lessened his willpower drastically. But, for Daedalus's for fortune, It only knew that his shoulder was injured since the Ghost in the white dress had possessed the wolf that had previously bit him.

With a war of attrition taking place within his body, the ghost began to grow tired from struggling to make her host body move resulting in nothing but attrition. Daedalus blocked his body, preventing the ghost from doing anything until it would leaves. It gave him the the advantage of time as the ghost Soulmist dwindled away until it finally decided that possession was the wrong way to handle the situation and left his body. Daedalus fell to his knees once from the sheer amount of stress that the possession had put on his body. He began to breath heavily while still holding the torch in his right hand. "Fire." He thought to himself as he moved the torch close to defend himself.

The ghost had materialized in front of him taking the form of an emaciated woman in a white dress. She spoke angrily like poison was laced in each word. "I have wasted enough of my soulmist on you." The ghost looked to the scarf around his head then to the torch he held. She decided that if she could only set it on fire than she would have gotten her vengeance by lighting his head ablaze. Only able to use what little soulmist she had to preform basic push with soulmist projection, she practically charged at him until she was within arms reach to try and touch the torch handle to push it against his body. He watched as the ghost charged at him from his position on his knees. "This is my chance"