Closed Curiosity Kills the Merc [Viszragoneszh]

[Alexander Hamish Moore]

50th Fall, 514

Syna had not yet shone on the world, when Varya of the Still Moon tasked Alex with a delivery. He was large and heavy envelope, sealed with a scarlet red wax, and embossed with the Sitai Rose. He was given very specific orders to not open, examine, or break the seal of the package. The recipient, Caleb Morealis, was to get the sealed package. Varya wanted to be sure that the renowned spiritist examined the contents personally. The Sitai mercenary set off immediately, there, however was no carriage available this early. He did not complain however. Alex enjoyed the long walk from Bloodflower to the city, and he was encouraged by the song of early morning animals, and the idea of having something to do. His peace tied longsword danced on his hip as he briskly walked the well maintained road into the city, while his hunting knife was delicately tucked out of sight.

Alex passed through the iron wrought that separated the swamp from the city proper. The sun was just washing the the sky with soft blues, and oranges. He was given very precise directions to ‘Spectral Solutions’, a small business on Dry Island. It was a place Alex had never visited, nor did he know what kind of service they offered. After almost a bell of navigating the streets, Alex arrived at a small two story building that look like a house, enclosed by a waist high picket fence. It was only a few bells past the rising of the sun, when the mercenary approached the friendly looking door. He noted the shrubbery, and swing on the porch. This place almost felt like a home, and it seemed that a lot of work went into preserving this visage.

Alex gingerly opened the door to the seemingly warm structure, and was unsure what to expect. He walked into a warm reception area, and shook off the chill fall morning. There was a comfortable looking sofa, and a few chairs around a table. All flanked my numerous cabinets. An adjoining room contained more chairs, and a large table. Alex didn’t know why all these tables were needed, he was certainly out of his element here. He looked over the room, looking for what he was supposed to do, and as the door closed, a little bell tacked in the corner rang. Alex jumped, but calmed his nerves. It wouldn’t serve him well if he were to get a reputation as a flighty mercenary.

Alex stood, just inside the reception room, out of the way if the door was to open, and hoped that someone would take this package from him. He could feel the back tip of his nose itch with curiosity. And he knew the only way to scratch such an itch was satisfaction. He just hoped there would be something further for him to do.

[Viszragoneszh]

Goneszh and his boss, Caleb Morealis, were in one of the rooms off the reception area at 'Spectral Solutions' when they heard the bell ring, announcing a visitor. Goneszh was in his guise as a Benshiran boy of sixteen. As yet, no one in Kenash knew he was actually a freshwater Iyvess Dhani, other than his ghostly friend and would-be cohort, Shalita Farlay. Mr. Morealis looked over to the door leading out to the reception area. "Well, young Goneszh, it sounds as though we have a customer. Chances are, I'll be letting you handle this one. Just put these back on the shelf while I go see what they need." Caleb had been showing his new hiree the collection of "dusting" jars. Not many of them held the depleted remains of any actual ghosts, but there were a few. All the jars had glyphs engraved on them, but only those actually holding dusted ghosts had been activated. The glyphs prevented them from being opened or penetrated by any unauthorized hand or soulmist. Goneszh liked that added element of glyphing. He knew his mother would not have approved, but he did not share her every viewpoint. It was not that he'd wish to keep a ghost so imprisoned forever, but he could see the experience of short-term dusting as being something to make a hostile ghost more cooperative. The glyphing made a rescue nearly impossible. "I'll be right out, s-sir." Goneszh said, as he examined the subtle differences between the glyphs on each jar. He supposed that they might indicate the identity of the ghost contained within. He came back from the side room to see a young man in felt pants and low boots showing below a long cloak, standing with a wide brimmed hat in his hand as Mr. Morealis opened a sealed envelope. "Payments arranged in advance, guaranteed by the Sitai. Very good then. Goneszh, I will be giving this one to you. I'm still expecting you to provide your own soul mist, especially since there is no immediate hurry on this. I know you like to use honey, so I can't accommodate you anyway." Goneszh retrieved his two-headed spear, both ends blunted with grommets to equal the "peace-tied" condition of the visitor's long sword. It looked like a walking stick with the decorative covers, and Goneszh used it as one in these circumstances. "You should try it sometime, Mr. Morealis-s. They like a s-sweet treat now and then. I've got more at home, though. I'll only need to get an egg or two." Caleb laughed, "Three or four more like, if you're planning to coat your cloak." he went to one of the many cabinets and pulled out a few charts and a bound leather bundle. "Well, let's see...yes here we are." he unrolled a map of some properties and tapped his finger on one of them. "That should be it right there." He turned to the visitor, "Or were you going to escort my employee to the site, Mr...I'm sorry, but you don't look like blood. What was your name?"

[Alexander Hamish Moore]

Alex could hear motion deeper within the house, and waited patiently for a duo to appear from one of the closed doors. The tallest, a man in his early forties, seemed to be in charge of the business. He was well dressed, and well groomed, obviously Caleb Morealis, the man the package was addressed to. The second person who entered the room was much shorter, around five feet. He looked to be an older teen, but certainly looked to be much younger than Alex.

Alex handed off the package, and the duo poured over the contents. They briefly talked business before the banter turned to something called soulmist, and then quickly turned to honey and eggs. The second person to enter the room, the younger one, spoke with a thick accent, that favored ‘s’. The younger boy gathered a long walking stick, both ends ending in metal grommets. Alex wondered if the stick was bladed on either end, but held his tongue. He didn’t want to speak out of turn, or ask improper questions. The first man, Caleb went to one of the numerous cabinets, and gathered an armful of rolled papers, and a leather parcel. Alex kept his distance, respecting the space of those working.

Alex answered quietly, but respectfully, “No, I’m not related to the family. Just hired on to do jobs for them.” he didn’t mention what sorts of jobs he had done, he didn’t think the people here would be practically interested. “My name is Alex.” he didn’t think they would be interested in his last name either. He was just a freeborn, barely worth mentioning, a footnote in the city. “If there are no contradicting instructions for me in the papers you received, then I would like to accompany your employee.” he took a pause before continuing, in an effort to show off his usefulness, “It might be easier to get around the plantation unhindered while traveling with a mercenary from Bloodflower.” He wasn’t sure what to expect, but it felt nice to have something unknown going on.

[Viszragoneszh]

Goneszh turned in some surprise to the visitor. "Are you free for entire day, to accompany me, sir? I will need to return to my home at..the...oh never mind, I can shtop and pick up what I need at the Traveler'szh Complexh. I'd hate to add sho much time to our job." Goneszh had found much less pull to drag out the esses, Dhani style, when he made like "sh" instead. The naturally receding tongue position seemed to relieve the instinctive sibilance. He explained to Mr. Moore that it was either that or stuttering on esses, which was what he always claimed, to account for his Dhani "s" pronunciation. "I have honey and flour at home, but I need eggszh anyway. I will just put the leftover in my pack." The young Benshiran-looking spiritist looked over the chart, and the account of the haunting: Every autumn during harvest, there are seemingly random accidents at the compound. Individually, the incidents would be overlooked, but over the last few Falls, the accidents have become more frequent, resulting in a significant loss of product, time, and injuries to several of our top slaves, who tend to our tobacco drying. We cannot say for certain it is ghosts, but the accidents are too directed, and we want these activities investigated, and stopped if it does turn out to be a pair of ghosts. We do not care how they are disposed of, but urgent action is requested, and any costs will be paid upon completion of your services. The contract was signed by the Sitai Family Financial Officer, whose signature Goneszh could not decipher. Fortunately, Caleb was quite satisfied with it. Goneszh gave the mercenary a smile and a nod, "Yes-s, I believe you have a point. If they picked you, then they ought to recognize you on their property. It should make things-s go more...shmoothly." Goneszh led the way south, to Fountain Plaza, where he and his escort, Alex, turned west to cross Oath Island by way of two bridges. By the time they reached the Traveler's Complex, Goneszh had relayed the greatly shortened story of his life. This version made no mention of the additional seventy years of travel and spiritual experiences with his mother, Viszra, focusing only on the time spent in Eyktol after he'd left the hatchling brood. This could very easily be made to account for about sixteen years. This included the inundation of ghostly possessions he was subjected to in Eloab by his mother, to 'condition' his body for the spiritual affinity required to be an effective spiritist. He worded it to indicate that his 'conditioning' began when he was still an infant and that there had only been brief travels after that. He stated that his mother had been killed by beasts on the Sea of Grass, making no mention of the powerful Nitrozian family of Ravok that had been the real villains. He didn't want to suggest such extensive travel for such a young age, nor let slip a hint that he might actually harbor a hatred for powerful families ruling common folk's lives. Of course, he invited Alex to relay whatever amount of personal history he felt inclined to relate. They stopped at the Complex, where Goneszh bought another pint of honey, a pound of flour and a dozen eggs. He decided to add a pound of butter to his purchase, which brought the total to three-and-a-half gold, with a two silver tip for the clerk. He suggested to Alex that he make himself comfortable for a while. he explained that the process of making soul mist was frequently found to be a disgusting sight by non-spiritists, with its requisite regurgitation of semi-digested dough. He admitted that it did not have to be processed so "internally"; that it could just be held in the mouth instead. But it was less effective that way. As he spoke, he mixed a portion of the ingredients he'd bought, and kneaded it into a dough. He gave the man a chance to depart if he chose, and popped the blob into his mouth, kneading it a bit more there before swallowing it whole. "We can walk to the plantation now. By the time we get there, it will be about time for me to...uh...bring it back up. Then, I'll be wiping mosht of it on our weaponzh and cloaksh. The resht will be to offer to the ghosht, if we run into it and it will talk to ush." It was late morning by the time they saw the tobacco fields, rising to a line of trees which formed some boundary within the larger boundaries of the plantation itself. Goneszh examined the chart Mr. Morealis had given him. "It look like the treeline will go to where the slave quarterzh are. And the outbuildingzh are beyond that. That ish where the more rec-sent activity haszh been."