Solo More Unexpected Work

[Brandon Blackwing]

Continued from Unexpected Work

Day 53 of Fall 515AV

Motion generated heat, and heat abated the cold Morwen had thrown all over the peninsula Wind Reach was located on. It was one of the reasons Brandon kept walking, taking long strides, a brisk pace pushing him forwards. There was no destination he was aiming for, sometimes he just did things for the journey, for the chase, and not for the reward. His preferred occupation was a nice example of just that. It wasn't the goods he was after -usually he wasn't- but the thrill, the planning, the execution of the plan. The anticipation of the reward was better than actually obtaining it. Well, getting an item was part of the thrill of course, and for a couple chimes, bells if it made him feel extraordinarily satisfied with himself, he was pleased and every time he thought about said item it made him feel a little giddy inside.

However, after a while that feeling passed, the excitement was gone, and he just moved on, planning for the next heist. Or he'd just sit around being bored; something that pretty much described his stay in Wind Reach. As soon as he got the opportunity he'd return to Lhavit... However Dira wanted him here... Although, she hadn't said how long Wind Reach would need him. Besides, perhaps she had just meant the Beast, along with the undead in the market place. Or maybe not; for all Brandon could know there were more such abominable threats lurking around the corner. In the deep warrens perhaps? And there was that strange story he'd heard about a hunting party that had gone missing a couple seasons ago. He should ask around about that sometime; mayhap Sira would know something. Or Khara. Game Scouts did seem to be well informed when it came to such things. Maybe because they were used to track down the missing hunters?

Either way, he would investigate, as he had told Drusilla, and then if he didn't find a thing he'd get out of this annoying city as quickly as possible. Speaking of Dru, he still had to get a shirt that was about the same color as his fur. He sighed, such a drag. Though it would give him another excuse to go rock climbing or go challenge some endals and work up a good sweat. In this volcanic city with its ungodly temperatures ruling supreme, the bat did not want to wear unnecessary layers for longer than he needed to. And yet another possible problem bubbled up to the surface of Brandon's mind; if he left, would he tell Dru or not? She'd probably insist on coming with him if he informed her of his leaving, and to be honest, the Kelvic did not want the Sym in Lhavit. Both for his own as her sake. He'd seen how such things could turn out with Solomon Kriegsfelt.

Or maybe he should just announce he was leaving, tell her of his life in Lhavit, and of his reasons of not wanting her to come with him. Then again, he didn't really want her to stay in this place either, nor did he want his child to grow up here. It'd become too narrow-minded and … Inarta. And those things were qualities he'd rather not see in his offspring, in this child in particular. He'd possibly impregnated a few of the women Wind Reach was rich -such was the nature of this season- but he couldn't care less about them, mainly because he didn't give a shyke about their mothers. For Dru, at least, he did care, and as a result he could perhaps extend the sentiment to the child as well. Though he wasn't that interested; names, gender, alignment and whatnot were not important. What was, was that his child wasn't going to become a birdbrained wannabe Inarta.

Credit goes to Engghaen

[Brandon Blackwing]

While the maelstrom of thoughts raged on in his head, Brandon kept on walking, from time to time bringing the part of his mind that focused on fueling that storm outside of his body and aimed it towards the sky, using it to instead gauge his relative position. From what he could gather, he was still on track, still going south while the sun strolled to the western side of the heavens. It was too bad that he hadn't brought a map, though he had to face reality and acknowledge that the Inarta probably saw no use in documenting the Unforgiving. Oh well, he would be able to find his way back, with or without such an item.

After having covered quite a bit of distance, Brandon decided to take a break, scaling the trunk of a tree so he could rest between its branches. Survival skills he might be lacking, but at least the bat knew well enough it was safer not to take a nap on the ground where just about every predator roamed. Up above between the tree's branches he remained relatively out of sight, and even if he was detected, most couldn't climb that well. Bears could get to him, yes, but he doubted a bear would actively come for him if he didn't do anything to provoke it. He sighed, found a comfortable spot to sit in and closed his eyes. Just a short nap would do. If he slept too long he'd feel all drowsy, but if he just napped for fifteen chimes or so he'd be far more awake than before.

Of course, those fifteen chimes became a bell, and by the time Brandon awoke, his stomach felt empty. The light seeping through the browning canopy was a little too bright for him at first, and his head felt a little fuzzy. And worst of all, he felt like he hadn't slept long enough to be active again, all while knowing well that he'd slept too long. He cussed silently as he got to his feet, balancing on the thick branch, and again as his lower back plagued him with a dull ache. Apparently he'd been sitting against a small protrusion; something he hadn't noticed before he fell asleep. A small click of his tongue resounded as he pressed his fingers on the sore spot, massaging it with basic rubbing. No, trees weren't too comfortable to sleep in while his semblance was human.

Except his body not being too glad with his decision to take a nap in the canopy, there was something else that made the bat feel uncomfortable. It was almost as if something or someone was watching him; the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he itched all over, akin to a colony of ants traversing his body. It felt cold too, too cold even for this abnormal early arrival of Winter's freezing temperatures. He frowned, then twirled around all of a sudden, turning one hundred and eighty degrees. Nothing. The bat's frown deepened and he continued pressing onward with caution, ready to defend himself by either fighting or running immediately.

The feeling did not leave the bat's side, even as he found some brambles, a knot of long tendrils with thorns and even some fruit. Were these berries edible, the bat wondered, studying the clusters of small orbs with only half of his usual intenseness. Perhaps they were, but there were three kinds growing from the vegetation; red, green, and black ones. The black berries were the largest, and they looked really juicy. He plucked one and gingerly put it in his mouth, chewing it slowly. It was rather sweet, he concluded, something that his animal nature linked with edible. If it had been bitter he'd have spat it out right away. Bitter meant poisonous, his instincts said.

Not ceasing to continue using most of his focus to scan the surroundings, Brandon ate almost all the blackberries he could reach, and miraculously it was just enough to still his hunger. For now. With that annoyance gone, it seemed as if his unease was only becoming stronger and more pronounced, and once again the bat actively scanned the area, eyes darting to and fro, ears and nostrils attempting to detect anything unusual. Except... a streak of white between a patch of scrubs. It turned out to be a skull. Brandon picked it up with a frown, looking at the sockets accusingly. “Was it you?” he queried, not really expecting an answer. Of course the head was not the source of the feeling of being spied on. His paranoia would have to reach unseen levels before that would happen. “Not you. Then what is?” He pondered for a chime; not quite knowing what to do next. Maybe he could draw out that which was observing him by pretending to let his guard down.

“What to do, what to do,” the Kelvic murmured, “and what to do with you?” He lifted the skull to eye level, holding it so in his outstretched arm that he could stare in the empty sockets of the brainpan. “Do I gaze into those voids you call eyes and ponder my existence?” He let out a sigh, not quite sure what in Dira's name he was doing. “Am I or am I not? Such is the question!” He froze that instant, a shiver running down his spine. He could feel it, something was there, behind him. Had that actually worked? Perhaps the one stalking him believed the bat to be insane, and the thief couldn't really blame them. He too was starting to doubt his sanity. The feeling got stronger and stronger, and the unease reached a whole new level. Brandon couldn't take it anymore, in the blink of an eye he pivoted and hurled the skull to the spot he knew the feeling emanated from.

Credit goes to Engghaen

[Brandon Blackwing]

The skull didn’t hit anything, though saying that he had missed his mark was not correct at all. In fact, it was quite the contrary. He hadn’t missed, but he hadn’t hit anything either, instead it just passed right through the head of the faded out Inarta that stood there. No, they didn’t stand, they floated, just a small bit above the ground, but they floated nonetheless. A ghost. It was, without a doubt, a ghost. Brandon felt his muscles tense in anticipation, the fingers of one hand lightly hovering above the back of the other, above the cold iron that had been attached to his gloves.

Yes, the bat felt less afraid than he’d expected. Perhaps it was because of the mark he bore, or maybe because he now had cold iron on his hands and would be able to affect the spirit. But most likely it was because the shadow of the Inarta was not acting hostile at all. Brandon couldn’t really tell whether it was –had been- a male or female. Their hair was long, their stature was short, the face largely concealed by locks of ghostly copper. And the katinu and bryda obscured the shape of their body. Scent was useless here; they had none.

Slowly the apparition came closer, their motion resembling a stroll, but their feet still didn’t touch the floor. Strangely enough, Brandon didn’t feel threatened at all by this, instead he found it rather… amusing. For the spirit’s legs moved too quickly for their forwards motion, giving the impression they were walking on ice. They failed to notice though, continuing to close the gap with quiet determination, drawing the humorous attitude out of the situation entirely so Brandon started feeling what he had before the ghost had appeared; unease and even fear.

They stopped before coming too near though, leaving a tad bit more than a step and an armslength between the bat and themselves, as if they didn’t want go get close enough for the bat to touch them. Something that the Kelvic gave the cold iron in his gloves all the credit for. “You,” the spirit began, it’s voice sounding hollow and coming from somewhere other than the ghost’s mouth, even though its lips moved to form words. “You must help me chiet.” No question, no request. A statement, spoken with a tone that held some authority. Brandon scrutinized the ghost once again, this time spotting the feathers and beads in their hair. An endal.

“You have to help me, chiet.” The apparition demanded, suddenly floating way closer than before, one hand on his shoulder. Brandon flinched away, arms flailing. One hit the spirit in the face with the back of a hand, causing the sprite to shy back as well. A whiff of white smoke separated it from their face, vanishing, though there didn’t appear to be any damage done. Nevertheless, Brandon felt his confidence grow; he’d hit it. It hadn’t felt as if he’d hit something solid, more like a waterfall or something, but he’d hit it! Gods bless cold iron!

For a couple ticks the ghost touched their face and stared at the hand they’d used for said action, as if to check for damage and blood. Their eyes held a smoldering anger for the duration of the examination, but calmed down immediately after it. “The nerve,” they muttered, “though no harm done.” They spoke up then, continuing; “I need your help, chiet. I am endal Amora Chaqe.” A female then, now he thought about it, her voice did sound more feminine than masculine... though the roughness of it didn't help much in making it clear. She stared him right in the eyes, authority blazing once again. “I need you to guide me to Wind Reach.”

Credit goes to Engghaen

[Brandon Blackwing]

Brandon frowned, wanting to cross his arms, but keeping them at his side in order to defend himself if the need arose. “Why?” The ghost cocked her head and crossed her arms, expression depicting annoyance. “Because I am telling you to!” Of course, endals did not have to explain themselves, lower castes just had to shut up and do as they were told. Sadly for just about anyone who wanted to get something done by Brandon, the outsider just didn’t work that way. You either answered the Kelvic’s questions and explained yourself, or you went to find someone else to do it. Period.

“I thought you said you were an endal,” the bat mocked, “can’t an endal find their way back to the city?” The ghost’s annoyance grew, and Brandon almost took a step back. No, he reprimanded himself, I have Dira’s blessing and cold iron. There’s nothing to fear. Instead he just met the ethereal endal’s gaze with his own, and much to his surprise it was she who backed off. Her eyes refused to meet his for about half a chime afterwards, almost as if she’d seen something extremely terrifying housing within his onyx orbs. Or perhaps it was because of their color; the black that was the opposite of the faded gold of her own pair. The darkness that opposed the light.

“I would go by myself if I could,” she admitted, “but I cannot reach Chaqe, and every time I try to leave this area, I just end up here again.” She sighed, staring at the sky. “You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve walked in circles, how much it hurts to be confronted with this … incompetence. To think I was a scout before I was promoted… I know I should be able to find my way back no problem. But this is not normal. It’s a curse.” Brandon raised an eyebrow. If he had to make a guess, it probably had something to do with the endal being a ghost.

“What bothers me most is that Chaqe isn’t even trying to reach out to me. I know he survived the Zith attack, I would have known if he hadn’t. I’d have felt it.” The thief sighed, the realization dawning on him that this ghost either didn’t realize or did not want to admit she had died. “How long have you been here?” he asked, hoping he’d be able to figure out when exactly the endal had lost her life. He wasn’t sure when, but his fear and nervousness had slowly been replaced with pity. “I’m not too sure. A couple bells, perhaps half a day at most.” Half a day at most? But there hadn’t been any Zith attacks –none where any endals had been killed, that is- for at least three days.

“Perhaps the reason you can’t get in touch with your eagle,” the bat offered, having heard about the connection Endal and eagles shared many times during his stay, “is because you’re not an endal.” The Kelvic thought to start with careful treads, not quite sure how to deal with a ghost who did not know or refused to accept they were one. “Of course I am an endal!” Amora snorted. Brandon cut in before she could say anything else. “You were an endal,” he insisted, “but you are not anymore.” She frowned. “What are you trying to say? Be clear about it or shut up.” Well, typical for an Inarta. Alright then, he’d be blunt, he’d get straight to the point. “You’re dead.”

She didn’t appear to be impressed or taken aback. “Is this supposed to be a joke? Don’t be ridiculous.” Amora made an annoyed ‘tsk’ sound and turned around. “Fine, I’ll go by myself. I don’t need you anyway.” Brandon just shrugged; if she hadn’t managed to leave before, she wouldn’t now either. This time could be used to get a good view of what had happened here, and when exactly it had occurred. Not that he’d be able to gather much from a skull –or the rest of the set of bones that were lying in the shrubs where he’d found the cranium. Well, from that he could gather that they had been laying there for a while, and part of the flesh that had once been draped over the skeleton had most likely been eaten by scavengers.

Credit goes to Engghaen

[Brandon Blackwing]

Figuring out just what had happened proved easier than the bat had expected. At first he was just walking around a bit, searching for clues he suspected were long since gone. There was no blood sullying the soil, there was no strong scent of death in the air. Fragments of clothing weren’t present either, and only a rusted through talon sword was found after a good couple chimes of scanning the area. Nothing that could tell him more than just ‘a Zith attack’. For some reason, Brandon couldn’t ignore the roaming soul of the dead endal; mayhap because it felt as if Dira would want him to try and lend her his aid. And maybe because angering a ghost was a bad idea, even if he had cold iron on his fists.

Whether it was a coincidence or not, as soon as the Kelvic set foot in a certain spot near that patch of vegetation where he’d found most of the scattered bones, Brandon found himself no longer in the present, and yet, he still was. For a moment too brief to be labeled with a measure of time, a moment during which time did not seem to move at all, visions flashed before the bat’s eyes. As if memories were bubbling up from the deep, vast ocean of his mind they appeared. It was as if he was recalling events he hadn’t been involved in, and yet he could clearly see what happened. A memory of the dead.

For an instant too brief for time to pass it flashed, it appeared in his mind, and then he was starting to remember, to see. He was in the present still, hearing and seeing and smelling everything he had been all along, but now his mind projected the final chapter of a person’s life for him to witness. There was no need to close his eyes to see, nor did he cease to see one or the other. Both the dream and reality were observed, the former playing over the latter. Both were just as clear, and despite this contradiction Brandon could still see both the death scene and the present.

The trees were still green in their foliage, no browns or reds to be detected. It appeared to be summer, or late spring perhaps. It was getting dark, and a long-haired Inarta stared around, scanning the area. There was no mistaking her for anyone else; her appearance was exactly like the ghost’s. She spoke, no sound leaving her mouth, but Brandon could see her lips moving, forming words. He tried to read what she said, but from the looks of it she was speaking Nari, and except the occasional word or sound he could link to the shape of her mouth, he didn’t understand a thing. She nodded to the eagle standing a couple feet away from her, then suddenly tensed, drawing her bow and nocking an arrow. A swarm of Zith burst out from the darkness, speeding towards the lone endal and her bird. She launched a volley of arrows their way, but most didn’t kill, only slowing them down. It was enough for her to turn around and mount the Wind Eagle though, and they took to the skies quickly.

Amora replaced her bow for her talon sword, slashing at the incoming Zith while they gained altitude, Chaqe doing his best to drive them of with his own set of talons, but there were simply too much. Both eagle and rider suffered a multitude of injuries before the flying nightstalkers managed to push the endal out of the saddle and off the bird she rode. She screamed, free falling as her eagle tried to maneuver and catch his bonded rider, but the ZIth didn’t give him the space or time to do so. They were everywhere, clinging to the majestic avian creature’s body and inflicting more wounds with claws and teeth. But the focus of the vision was not the eagle, but the rider, and it lasted only for a couple more ticks as the bat witnessed Amora fall to her doom, hungry-looking Zith in her wake.

Brandon sighed as his vision returned to normal, the overlap of present and memory becoming undone. So these were Amora’s bones; he’d been suspecting as much, but now the confirmation had been given. He stared at the scythe decorating his left palm, wondering just when those visions came to him, if there were conditions he had to fulfill before gaining access to the knowledge. His ponderings were cut short by the uncomfortable tingle running down his spine, the sudden rush of cold that had warned him when Amora had first appeared before him. Indeed, there she was, looking frustrated and helpless, though quickly changing to a more confident expression when she noticed the Kelvic staring at her. “Can I ask you a question?” informed the thief, waiting for the ghost to nod before continuing. “Why are you so desperate to get back to Wind Reach? Except for it being your home, I mean.”

Credit goes to Engghaen

[Brandon Blackwing]

“Why?” the endal repeated, baffled, not believing her ears. “Because it is my duty to do so. Because I am an endal and I have sworn to protect my city.”
“Protect it?” The bat thought about it for a while, Amora not responding or clarifying in any way. “Ah. By delivering a message, is that it?” She nodded, staring at the sky, as if she’d see her eagle soaring there. “What would you inform the city of, then?”
She stared at him as if he was stupid. “Of a swarm of Zith bigger than usual making the area unsafe.” even if she didn’t say it, Brandon could clearly hear the ‘obviously’ following the rest of the sentence.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re already too late.” Once again she stared at him, realizing he was not joking around. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve told you already, you’re dead. You died.” She shook her head in denial, float-walking a couple steps back. Bran continued; “That large group of Zith you encountered? They killed you. They probably ate you too.” The endal’s eyes were widening, the shaking of her head became more violent, as if she were trying to prevent the bat’s words get a grip on her. “No! You’re wrong! I wouldn’t lose to such … beasts! Especially so with Chaqe nearby!”

“They outnumbered you, there were too much of them. You tried to flee, Chaqe tried to carry you out of the fray-”
“STOP! STOP IT!”
“You couldn’t get away, they were everywhere. You fell, and there was nothing Chaqe could do. There was nothing you could do…”
“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” she yelled, hands covering her ears as she crouched low to the ground, ghostly tears streaming from her eyes. The Kelvic did not stop though, as he believed the first step to helping this spirit was getting her to accept her demise. “You died there. You died here-” he pointed at the forest ground “-back in Summer. That large group of Zith has already reached Wind Reach, they have already attacked it.”

A cross between a wail and a shriek tore itself out of the sprite’s throat, going through bone and almost deafening the bat. She collapsed on the spot, crying. “Please,” Brandon spoke in more calming tones than his emotionless description of the events just ticks prior. “Just look at yourself, listen to your voice. Don’t you see how your feet don’t touch the ground? Don’t you see how the shrubs reach through your body as if you’re not even there? Can’t you see the leaves on the trees are not green anymore? Can’t you hear the odd direction your voice comes from? You’re dead. You’re a ghost. You haven’t been here for half a day, but for a whole season.” He sighed. “But you died protecting the city, a death worthy of an endal, no?”

Amora looked up at those words, her face wet with tears, looking more pitiful than ever. “I failed…” she sobbed, “I tried to be… I tried to stop them. I foolishly thought I could take them on, but… but there were too many of them. I was scared, Chaqe said I should run, and… and…” Tears flooded her eyes once more, the words she’d tried to form meshing into one wail. “He said… he said we should retreat and warn the city. He’d said so from the start, but I … I-”
“Shhhhh,”attempted the thief with soothing voice, surprising even himself with the compassion and empathy he expressed. Was it because she reminded him too much of himself? Of how he’d felt when Dira had appeared in front of him? “It’s okay. You did your best.”
“It wasn’t enough!”
“At least you tried. You thought of the city, of keeping it safe.” But the endal vigorously shook her head, eyes clenched shut. “I only thought of myself, of my ambitions! And because of it I failed to do my duty. I failed the city! I failed Chaqe!”

Once more she burst out in tears, and after a moment of hesitation, Brandon drew the spirit in a hug –surprised to find he didn’t pass right through her- rubbing the back of her head with a hand. It was meant to comfort her, but she only started to cry louder and more intensively. The longer he held her, the colder the bat felt, as if he was hugging an ice statue, but he didn’t let go. “I am sure he did not think of it that way.”
“I should have- I should have-”
“Shhhhhhh… You did what you thought was best. It wasn’t your fault there were too many Zith for you to handle. It was an ambush, you wouldn’t even have escaped if you’d retreated right away. But does that mean you failed? Not necessarily. The city still stands. The Zith were chased away. If anything, you slowed them down enough so they didn’t attack when all eagles were sleeping.” That would have been really bad, even now said group of Zith had slaughtered a large amount of people –a fact he purposefully did not mention to the endal.

“So calm down. You didn’t fail anyone. You did great.” She nodded against his chest, but the sobbing continued. It was fine though, Brandon wasn’t going anywhere. He’d comfort this poor soul, set her mind at ease and guide her to Dira’s hands. Dira, was I such a mess myself when you marked me? But… I really did fail, did I not? He could still feel the bitterness in his mouth when he thought about it. He could still feel how much it had stung, how much it had hurt when Dira had confirmed his words. So I will spare this one from that misery. Misery is for the living, not the dead.

Continued in Finishing Up Some Unexpected Work

Credit goes to Engghaen

[Dove Brown]

Your Grades!
Brought to you on the wings of a Dove!

Please remember to edit your grading request. If you have any questions, comments or concerns regarding your grade, please do not hesitate to send me a PM.


Name: Brandon Blackwing
XP Award:

• Philosophy 2
• Land Navigation 1
• Climbing 1
• Wilderness Survival 2
• Massage 1
• Rhetoric 1
• Intelligence 2
• Interrogation 1

Lore:

• My child shouldn't be a birdbrained Inarta
• Trees: safe for sleep but not confortable in human form
• Blackberries: a sweet treat on brambles
• Amora Chaqe: the ghost of an Endal
• Comforting a ghost

Notes: Be careful not to overplay your Eiyon abilities - touching ghosts is usually reserved for Eiyons with 2 or more marks.