Quiet Down Up There [Job]

[Anja Nightwatcher]

Summer 23, 518
Jolly Good Stables
16th Bell

Anja passed the frame of a large wooden door, and stepped inside of the sweet smelling, strawdusted stables. His blue eyes carefully took the location into stride, and what he saw pleased him more than he had anticipated. While the majority of Sunberth was dilapidated and cold both in appearance and in spirit, the man finally felt a fair bit of warmth in this place. It smelled of horse, of course, which was always nice. The smell lingering in the area was warm, gentle, and untainted. Anja had seen, on occasion, horribly diseased and thin horses being forced to carry heavy wagon, trudging through the mud. The horses Anja could see pacing circles in the paddock outside were all bright eyed, uninjured, and healthy. This place smelled of hay, and grain, and was lit with a calm orange light. It was an odd contrast to the loud shrieking coming from the loft up above.

Maisa was of course with Anja. His strider usually only didn’t come with him when she wasn’t actually able to fit inside whatever building Anja was headed into. She extended her head slightly as she trotted into the stable beside him, gently extending her head and inhaling the scents of the area. She gave a soft nicker of approval, and glanced over at her partner. Anja scratched the mare’s neck, and proceeded further into the area. Maisa pinned her ears to her head and glanced upwards with irritation. “You don’t need to come inside if you don’t want to,” Anja told her, emphasizing his statement with Pavi. Maisa snorted. A sort of ‘don’t be ridiculous, if you can deal with the screaming then so can I’. Anja shrugged and called out.

“Excuse me? Is anyone here?”

As if summoned by magic, a young woman ducked out from inside of one of the empty horse stalls. “We’re kind of having a problem here,” she said, voice thick with irritation. “So if you don’t mind then you can just come back after-- oh!”

Both she and Anja had apparently had a similar moment of surprise and delight upon looking at one another. The woman’s accent certainly cinched Anja’s initial suspicion based on the nice condition of the stables.

“Good evening Walota,” Anja spoke and gestured in Pavi, then quickly switched to common. “I understand that you have a ghost problem. Myself and my strider have been sent here to help you deal with it.”

The woman looked for a brief moment with a desperate longing towards Maisa. But business sense quickly took over, probably fueled by intense suspicion that seemed to be a part of the typical Sunberth’s mentality.

“The damn thing started last night and hasn’t shut up for the entire day!” the woman growled. Anja could see dark circles under her eyes. Clearly she hadn’t slept for a while. “It’s scaring all the horses! I’ve had to put them out back so they don’t panic. It’s driving me crazy. I want it gone.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Anja reassured her. “I will take care of the situation. Do you have any idea what could possibly have caused it to come here and start making all this noise?”

This was apparently not what the woman wanted to hear. “No!” she snarled. “And I don’t care! Just get rid of it!” Without waiting for further comment from Anja, she turned from him and walked back outside towards the horses. Anja looked towards Maisa and shrugged. The horse snorted. “Let’s see what we can do then, shall we?” Anja suggested. Leaving Maisa in the stable, the man turned towards the loft to go see what this ghost all enraged.

(Words, 613, Total 613)

[Kynier]

It hadn’t been until the twelfth bell that Kynier decided to go to the Majestic. It had been a long while since he last checked in with Doler and he hadn’t pursued the investigation on the artifact residing in the Baroque Bay any further. The letter he was meant to deliver to Doctor Petricious was still in a drawer in his home. Kynier wanted to say it was because he was waiting for his ability to feel by touch returned. Though that may only be a half truth. Suffering the effects of overgiving aside, something in his mind was warning him away from such a pursuit. Regardless, now wasn’t the time to investigate a volatile artifact’s appearance. And he was feeling a twinge of guilt about not checking in with the wizard. Sunberth’s many schemes rested for no sorcerer. There was bound to be something that he could do.

Inside the web and rat shyke infested shop, Kynier wandered to the far wall and drew his short sword. Using the hilt he banged on the empty shelves. Knock knock… knock… knock knock knock… and stepped away from the hidden entrance. When the door opened the wizard looked him over critically. After a chime he spoke, “You still reek of djed. So you must still be suffering from the overgiving from your Auristics. Have you spoken to the doctor?” Kynier shook his head. Doler seemed to consider that for a moment. “That may be wise. Then…” Kynier opened his mouth to speak but the wizard silenced him. “You’re here for work. Something manageable for your condition.” A chime of silence passed as the wizard looked through Kynier to something beyond him. “Yes. The Jolly Good Stables seem to be having a problem. Go there and find out the specifics. Let me know what you discover.” And just like that the wizard closed the shelves to his living area.

Investigate a problem? Even for Doler that was extremely vague. Kynier shrugged and shook his head as he walked back out onto the streets. Due to the extra precautions he had taken up since visiting the harbor it would take twice as long to get to the Jolly Good Stables. Though the Sun’s Refuge district was on the “other side” of the city it was across the narrow section. After a few bells of carefully maneuvering through the streets and alleys he was approaching the district. Kynier eased his pace and started seeking out the street urchins and beggars of the area. To each one he inquired about the goings on at the Jolly Good Stables. However, none of them had any answers for him. That didn’t stop their pleas for silver as he turned his back on them. Sometimes Kynier wondered what sort of power allowed Doler to know things that so many others did not.

A little after the fifteenth bell he was standing outside the Jolly Good Stables. It had been nearly a season since he was here last, doing his first task for Doler. It was strange that that much time had already passed. Unlike before, Kynier didn’t walk straight up to the main structure. Instead he roamed around and slipped through a side alley. The patrols of the Sun Births appeared a bit lax today. Before he could begin to wonder why he began to hear a loud series of shrieking followed by the perturbed whinnying of the horses in the surrounding structures. The sound made him… unsettled. The noise was coming from one of the barns. At the end of the side alley he could see the open training fields as well as many of the stables the establishment used.

Several stable hands were working on moving horses, all away from where the shrieking was coming from. Though he was dressed in his dark green vest, brown shirt, dark pants and boots, with his short sword and dagger strapped to his hip Kynier ventured out across the field. All the people employed appeared too occupied to pay him any attention, trying to calm the animals down. Kynier waded through the field and did his best to ignore the smell of the animals. Since his sense of touch had been nullified he noticed his other senses had grown more acute. Right not that wasn’t doing him any real favors.

The barn that was the center of the commotion appeared to be one of their larger ones. Kynier roamed around the outside, listening to the noises within. It seemed that whatever was causing the disturbance was coming from the next floor up. Though Kynier wasn’t familiar with horses, the noise didn’t sound bestial in nature. As he circled the barn he noticed an open window that was within reach. Rather than take the obvious ways in and face the possibility to being stopped Kynier decided to use that for an entrance. The climb was very awkward and perhaps not remotely stealthy. The racket from above helped to disguise his intrusion as he climbed through the window sill.

He landed in an empty stall. The straw on the ground wet and smelling of piss. Kynier ducked down and went to the stall’s opening. Crouching down he carefully peered out to see if anyone else was inside. As he did he heard someone call out. Recoiling his head he squatted quietly in the stall. He listened to the exchange between a man and woman. Ghosts? Whatever was occurring they were keeping the stables clear. It sounded as though the man was expected to banish the restless spirit, if that was what it actually was. When hearing the woman’s steps fade away, Kynier peered out from the stall again. The man was with a horse, one that didn’t seem bothered by the incessant noise. He left it where it was and climbing up to the loft. Kynier looked down to the other end of the barn and saw another way up in that direction. Attempting stealth, he wandered out from the stall in a low crouch, carefully trying to set his numb feet down quietly.

As he got to the ladder he could hear thumping coming from up above. Pushing his fear aside Kynier proceeded to climb up. The loft itself seemed to be used more for storage. Extra hay, grain, and various tools and accessories for horse care were strewn about. But it was all a mess. With his head just barely clearing the loft floor Kynier saw the source of all the commotion. It was indeed a ghost. The spectral form of a horse, gaunt with skin stretched tightly across the ribs and lacerations crisscrossing the hindquarters, was stamping around. The apparition seemed to try and eat the extra grain laying around only to have its incorporeal mandibles pass through. Kynier climbed up the rest of the way to the loft and took cover behind a large undisturbed stack of hay. He waited and watched what the ghost did and looked for any more tells from the apparition’s appearance.



Job Thread Word Count: 1,169

[Anja Nightwatcher]

The ladder creaked underneath Anja’s weight, but the wooden slats we're sturdy enough to handle the man’s weight. Yet another nice thing about this location; Anja wouldn’t have trusted the majority of wooden objects he had come into contact with up until now. Maisa, of course, couldn’t climb the stairs with him. So she paced restlessly underneath him as he climbed, her white coat glowing with a faint luminescence in the orange light of the stables. Anja watched his companion head outside of the stables towards the direction the young Drykas woman had disappeared towards just as the man’s head cleared the top of the loft.

The room looked like a storm had blown through. It didn't take any pondering for Anja to determine the source of the mayhem, seeing as it was currently screaming and thrashing in front of him. Anja grimaced at the state of the horse, ghost or no. It’s flesh was stretched as thin as a tanning rack, and ribs poked out of the poor creature’s ghostly flesh. Its screams of frustration as it phased helplessly through the grain it tried to take into its mouth made Anja’s ears ring.

“Hold there wal,” Anja said, making the appropriate Pavi gesture of respect towards the beast. It spun to look at him, shrieking in surprise at the man’s voice. Anja saw in the ghost horse’s eyes a familiar look of uncertainty that every ghost Anja met had. The mark of Dira Anja bore on his hand made the dead and undead a touch uneasy.

“Easy there,” Anja called out again, this time in common, although his hand was still poised ready as if he were to speak Pavi. The ghost pawed at the ground and rolled its head in a circle. The distress was quite evident in the beast’s ghastly red eyes.

“Now now, you know you’re not supposed to be here,” Anja told the ghost, keeping his voice light and upbeat. “The graveyard is the proper place for you. Or if you like, we can try to talk this out and see if we can solve what disturbs you so. If you can show me what’s wrong perhaps I can help, yes?”

Anja wasn’t really sure how much of what he was saying was getting through to the ghost. Anja could have trusted a strider to understand Pavi but this beast was no strider and Anja would be first to admit the considerable imperfections of horses that were not striders. Still he hoped that the even and calm tone of his voice might reassure the creature at least.

Anja had a couple of options available to him to help this poor soul. If he could find the place the horse had died, Dira might grant him a vision of the creature’s death, which could help in him determining it’s regrets. He could also encourage the horse to possess him and try to get it's memories that way, but such an option was probably ...inadvisable. The ghost was a bit too volatile to risk such a maneuver.

Well, first things first. Carefully, cautiously, Anja approached the ghost. “I’m not here to hurt you, wal,” Anja told the horse. A quick glance between the horse’s legs revealed it to be an uncut stallion. Stallions not trained well could be dangerous, so Anja endeavored himself to be extra careful.

A stray brush lay on the ground nearby. Carefully, Anja picked it up, even as the stallion watched him cautiously. Anja reached to his waist and carefully pulled out a vial filled with a strange misty substance that Anja had prepared earlier that day. He uncorked it and the substance spread across the brush, and vanished. Anja offered the brush to the horse, who sniffed it cautiously, then gently touched it to the ghost’s nose. The horse snorted with surprise, startled by the touch. Anja thought it likely the ghost had not touched much since dying. Anja ran the brush over the horses’ neck several times and watched it shiver with pleasure.

“How about it then?” Anja asked the horse. “Show me where you died? You came here for a reason.”

The horse seemed to be considering something. Before it could reply, Anja heard a sharp whinny from down below.

“One moment wal,” Anja told the ghost and he carefully backed up, stashing the brush at his waist and hiding his unease. Anja glanced down the ladder to see Maisa’s white face staring up at him.

“What’s wrong?” Anja asked his companion. She stomped her hooves, and gestured fiercely at the loft with her head. Something clearly disturbed her, but Anja couldn't know the details. It wasn’t the ghost. That wouldn’t be enough for her to get his attention.

Anja might not have noticed a solitary man slink up the stairs and into the loft, but Maisa had smelled him. And she knew well enough that someone who slinks is up to no good.

Though Anja didn’t know exactly what was wrong, he returned to the loft with caution. A small bit of hay was disturbed. It hadn’t been like that when Anja had arrived, had it? The man approached it carefully, and saw a figure ducked behind it.

“Can I help you?” Anja asked, polite enough.

A scream interrupted whatever answer he might say. Anja turned quickly, just in time to see the ghost vanish. A moment later, shrieks of both people and horse echoed down from below as the spirit began to rage.

(Words 915, Total 1528)

[Kynier]

Unlike the other individual Kynier kept his presence hidden from the ghostly stallion. Having experienced an encounter with a ghost on only one other occasion, he wasn’t aware of anything that he could do to the spirit. Though he knew an angry apparition could still affect the world around them. That didn’t seem to deter the man as he took the being’s full attention. Kynier listened closely to what he said. Only pieces of it were comprehensible. Some in a language beyond his knowledge to even identify and other bits spoken in the common tongue. The dark haired individual wasn’t treating the being like a ghost, more like an animal that was still alive.

The most curious thing was the brush. The ghost talker lifted it carefully and placed something on it. Something that disappeared from sight very quickly. Holding it out to the spirit to inspect, the being snorted as it took a step backwards. With soothing tones the man started… brushing the ghost? Kynier’s eyes furrowed in surprise. Suddenly he really wanted to know what that strange substance had been. To grant even a limited ability to physically interact with the incorporeal dead, would be invaluable. Especially if Mariann returned and was in a less ideal mood.

Cries from another horse took the other man’s attention away. In what Kynier thought was a foolish action, the dark haired individual turned his back on the apparition and wandered to the loft’s edge. Kynier watched the ghost grow agitated at being ignored. It stamped its foot as the man abruptly turned in his direction. Kynier took a step back and accidentally brushed against some hay making a soft noise. Listening carefully he heard the footsteps approach and then stop. His position had clearly been given away. When he was about to stand and face the other man the ghost let out a shriek and vanished. While the other individual turned to look, Kynier twisted around and grasped the railing post next to the gap for the ladder.

Squeezing his grip tight he leapt from his crouched position over the top of the ladder. His body spun around in the air as his hold of the wooden post remained firm. His momentum took him under the loft where the ghost talker couldn’t see him. Bending his knees, Kynier landed and rolled over his side, from shoulder to shoulder, and back to his feet. Kynier was about to run in that same direction he was going when he noticed the white mare, Maisa, standing only a few paces away. He stopped and turned to run the other way, stomping footsteps taking him in the direction of the human and bestial screams.

Exiting out the other entrance to the barn he could see a gathering of people and horses not far away. Piercing cries from the equine beasts filled the air as they ran in several directions while stable hands tried to keep them under control with their halters. The ghost was in the middle of the scene. Angrily snorting and biting at the necks and hindquarters of other horses. A few tried to kick the being only to have their hooves pass through harmlessly. Kynier stopped and watched it unfold. The ghost also harassed the people. Running them down and kicking them dangerously. Then it stopped and looked around the chaos. The ghost was searching…

Some of the chaos began to run past Kynier. He started moving again, and for some reason it was to get closer. The ghost kept crying out in what seemed like fury as it started chasing more after the people. After a chime it started trotting around, trying to move through around the living as it seemed to have caught sight of something. A furious unnatural snort rang out as it began a charge. Kynier’s eyes traced ahead of its path. A stable boy, that didn’t look much younger than Kynier, was running. From the look in his eyes, the boy was more scared than most on the field.

Kynier took off in a sprint, aiming to cut off the stable hand. The apparition was too fast to outrun and the boy wasn’t going to be able to escape. The mage shoved past the other people and leapt around the horses in his way. As the boy started crying out from the ghost’s approaching charge, Kynier dove and tackled the lad to the ground and out of the way. Kynier couldn’t feel the pain he was sure he caused his body. For the impact against the boy and the ground sounded hard. The mixed blessing allowed him to quickly get to his feet before dragging the boy up with him. The ghost was circling around for another pass.

“This way,” he commanded and enforced by pushing on the nape of the stable hand’s neck. He was leading them back to the closest barn. Though it wasn’t the one he had just witnessed the unusual scene with the other man. Kynier didn’t bother looking over his shoulder. He knew the ghost was coming after them and wouldn’t take long to overrun them. For that reason he was running and half dragging the stable hand with him to the other barn. Why did it have to be petching ghosts?



Job Thread Word Count: 880
Total Word Count: 2,049

[Anja Nightwatcher]

Anja cursed in Pavi, first at the disappearance of the ghost then again as the stranger turned and fled. Anja didn’t have time to ponder over the reason the man was here, or his hasty retreat. He had more important things to deal with. Anja heard a sharp, urgent whinny from Maisa as she watched the stranger flee towards the sounds of chaos. Anja grabbed the loft’s ladder and leapt down, taking the rungs three at a time. He hit the ground hard and winced slightly from the impact, but was on his feet in a moment. Maisa pranced over to Anja and stamped impatiently. Needing no further encouragement, Anja grabbed his companion’s yvas and swung effortlessly onto her back.

Maisa barely needed to be led. Anja could trust the mare to take him where he needed to go. But before she could leap into action, Anja indicated an object hanging from a nail in the wall, a single object amidst a cluster of tools. Maisa trotted over to it and gave Anja just enough time to snatch the bridle from the nail before she surged towards the back of the stable. Anja barely had enough time to uncork his second out of three vial of soulmist and slather it onto the object.

Outside was chaos. Anja barely managed to hang onto his yvas as Maisa charged into the fray. A rush of people and horses fled opposite to him, and Anja winced painfully as his legs were banged up by person and horse alike in their rushes of panic. The drykas was nearly flung forward off of his companion’s neck as she grinded to a halt in the yard, and he felt her foot stamp just once.

A boy was fleeing in desperation, the ghost horse fast on his heels. The stranger from the loft tackled the boy out of the way and the horse had no time to correct its movement before it flew past the pair like a rampaging bull. It spun quickly, nostrils flaring and red eyes glowing faintly. Anja knew he had to act quickly before the creature descended on the pair. A ghost this furious could do real damage.

“A distraction sweetheart,” Anja whispered in his strider’s ear, and then he put his fingers in his mouth and blasted a hard whistle. Maisa, following Anja’s lead, charged at the ghost. The ghost stiffened at the whistle, then turned in a rage at Maisa’s charge. It screamed a challenge back at Anja, hatred fuelling it’s eyes. The beast was enraged that it’s charge was getting away, but Anja was a bigger and more available target. With a scream, it turned and charged them.

The two horses charged at at each other at breakneck speed. Anja clung to the yvas with one hand and clutched the bridle in the other. The two horses ticked closer, almost as if in slow motion. The horses’ red eyes glinted, and it focused in on Maisa. Horse or man, Anja knew that look in the ghost’s eye. And he made a split decision. The ghost was almost upon Maisa, and it took a flying leap at her… And Anja threw the bridle around the horses’ neck and yanked it upwards. Anja felt the spectral body collide with his form, and then seize it.

Anja found himself looking through eyes that weren’t his own, in form that was larger and stronger and faster than he would ever be. Anja was an experienced enough spiritist that he knew when he was feeling the memories of a ghost that was possessing him. He didn’t fight it. He could trust Maisa to take care of things. For now, he needed to see this. He needed to understand what had given this creature so many regrets.

“You’re so petching stupid!” snarled a young voice. “You petching vicious horse! Eat shyke!”

Anja could feel the exhaustion threatening to overwhelm the stallion. He was weak, and tired, and sick and hungry. He hadn’t eaten in days, or been allowed out to run. All around him were wooden walls. His head was held fast by a chain connected to a wall. In spite of this, the stallion was proud. He was stubborn. Every time the boy approached he would snap at him. His throat burned from screaming, but he still screamed.

“Are you sure we should be doing this,” a voice said worriedly from somewhere behind the stallion. “Tieria is gonna kill us if she knows we’re doing this.”

“Petch her, and petch this horse,” snarled the other voice. “This savage horse broke my sister’s head! Now I’m gonna break him! And once I do, I’m gonna break his neck! You hear that petcher! You’re going to die!”

The stallion of course couldn’t understand the words spoken to it. It didn’t understand why it was being hurt, nor did it remember any grievance it might be blamed for. It only recognized the injustice, and seethed with rage even as its body failed. The boy moved in front of the stallion’s face and sneered. Anja recognized his face, even as the sneer warped his features. He certainly looked less frightened now, and a thousand times more confident and cruel.

The stallion screamed a challenge, and the boy yanked the chain attached to his face. “Shut up shyke breath. I’m gonna make you suffer. You hear that you bastard? I’m gonna--” but the boy couldn’t finish. Because the stallion had surged forward in rage, and something in his neck had snapped and now the light was fading, and the stallion could only feel rage. Why couldn’t it’s legs move? Why was everything going black?

“Gods damn it, the petcher broke his damn neck!” the boy snarled. And the rage was building, and building…

And that was all Anja needed to see. The man seized control of his body back and felt the confused spirit struggle inside of him. Anja quickly took stock of things. He was lying on his stomach on the ground. His chest and ribs ached. A fall then. Anja squeezed his hand and felt the bridal in it. He took a shaky breath and shoved himself onto his hands and knees.

“Alright,” Anja croaked hoarsely. His throat felt sore, as if he had been shouting. “Out then. You’re not going to take me anywhere. Come out and I’ll see this handled.”

The ghost struggled inside him furiously for a long moment, but Anja wouldn’t be overcome by an animal ghost, matter how furious. Finally, Anja felt something push to the back of his throat, and he retched as the spiritmist splattered out his mouth and onto the ground. It forced itself together, finally back into the shape of a horse, albeit a bit amorphous. Before it could take shape completely, Anja jumped to his feet and slapped the bridal on the creature.

“Stranger,” Anja said through teeth clenched from the pain in his ribs. “Can you do me a favor and keep hold of that boy? I think the stable master would like to know who murdered one of her stallions.”

(Words 1184, Total 2712)

[Kynier]

Right when he expected the ghost to making the next charge against the stable boy there was a piercing whistle that rang out of the madness. With a glance over his shoulder Kynier could see that the other man from before was positioned on his horse and making himself a target for the apparition. And though the rampaging spirit took the bait Kynier didn’t slow his pace. The stable boy whimpered as Kynier forced him into the other barn. Before ducking inside himself, Kynier looked out to see the raging spirit be infused into the stranger.

“We may have some time then,” Kynier said to no one in particular. He took the boy by the scruff and walked further into the barn. Horses curiously poked their heads out of the stalls, each with their ears pinned back. Many of them were snorting and flicking their noses up. Kynier had no understanding of their behaviors and ignored them. Besides the two of them there were no other people present in the barn. Kynier stopped and forced the younger, shorter man to face him. “Right then. Now is when you tell me why that ghost is coming after you.”

The lad gave him an indignant look, “Petch you! I don’t know why…” Kynier cut off his words by grabbing the stable hand’s shirt with both hands and drove him back into the wall. The impact was hard and violent. The closest horses whinnied and shifted in their stalls away from the point of impact. Kynier looked down at the lad with eyes that clearly expressed his frustration. This boy had answers and Kynier was going to hear them before this was all over.

“Now,” Kynier said with menace, “I have recently discovered that when it comes to ghosts I have very little patience!” He spat the last word to emphasis his point. “In a field full of people and horses, that spirit picked you out specifically. So you do know. And you will tell me!” He did not soften his grip on the boy, nor allowed him to remove himself from the wall. For a few ticks the boy just struggled against his numb hard grip.

“Take a walk down the mine…” Kynier removed a hand which recoiled to his shoulder before snapping back out. Knuckled struck against the boys nose which caused his head to ram against the wood. It looked like he had struck the lad harder than he should, for he slid down to the ground in against the wall. Blood ran from the boy’s nose and over his mouth. Kynier silently stood over the boy waiting. The sound of chaos from outside still rang in conjunction with the disgruntled snorts from within the barn. The boy’s hand smeared the blood on his face before looking up at Kynier. Eyes portraying a mixture of dread and hatred. “The piece of shyke got my sister killed!”

The words didn’t soften Kynier’s mood nor his stance. The mage continued to loom as the boy spat some blood that had ran into his mouth. “She was supposed to break the stallion, only she got broke instead. So I killed the dumb beast. Not before making it suffer though.” Kynier wasn’t sure but it sounded like there was pride in that last statement. He set his hands on his hips and began to pace. He was near the center of acts of retaliation. How to deal with a ghost was still beyond his understanding. The stranger outside seemed as though he might know. All he could do right now was try to keep the boy safe from his own consequences.

As the stable boy got back to his feet Kynier went to grab him by the neck again. The boy whimpered at his grip as his fingers dug into the skin. Leading him down the way Kynier looked for an empty stall. Upon finding one Kynier opened the half wooden door and shoved the boy inside. The straw on the ground was wet and in need of changing. The boy grumbled in protest but Kynier slammed the door and pointed meaningfully at him.

“You are going to sit in that corner,” he pointed at one of the forward corners that would conceal the lad from sight unless you stood right at the door, “And you will neither make a sound nor gaze out before I tell you. Otherwise, that ghost will be the least of your problems. You understand me?” After a silent moment the stable boy nodded. When the boy didn’t move Kynier gave the corner another indication. Getting the hint the lad moved over and huddled in the corner. For a tick Kynier looked at the blood running down the boy’s chin. He reached down and got a handful smeared on his fingers despite the boy’s protests. Then he closed the stall door behind him and walked to the center of the barn.

With his unbloodied hand he reached inside his vest to one of the hidden pockets. From there he withdrew the Mighty Quill. A ten inch blue feather that faded to white at the tips with an extremely small rune engraved near the writing tip which he still hadn’t identified. Kynier rubbed the quill’s end in the blood before kneeling down. As though it had anticipated what he was going to do, his hand started trembling violently. “Damn it,” he whispered. Kynier steadied his breath and concentrated on doing the same to his hand. It took a while, but the fingers shook less and less. Though they never became completely still he didn’t have time to wait much longer.

Kynier set the tip on the ground and began a glyph. The thin blood on the tip etched itself better than he had expected it too. The rune he made, Dala, would amplify his magic. Dala was about altering, improving, and changing. The finished symbol on the ground was slightly larger than a foot in area. Kynier stowed the Mighty Quill back to its hidden place and closed his eyes. He sought inner peace. It was difficult to move through his own frustrations and the anxiety of the situation he was in. Such emotions made a hurricane in his mind that he had to journey through to reach the center. Precious chimes passed before he finally reached the eye. In there he found his djed waiting for him.

Summoning the power with his will brought it to the surface of his skin. What flesh was exposed turned slightly luminescent as he mind began to form a shield weave. Kynier knelt down and rested his hands on the Dala glyph. The luminescent glow flowed from every part of his body to his hands before infusing itself to the amplifier. Mentally Kynier began to stretch the weave to cover as much area as it could. A translucent barrier rose from the ground eight feet into the air and stretched out to the sides. It was very very thin and didn’t block the entire distance of the barn. The simple weave couldn’t block anything physical from passing through it, but ghosts weren’t physical. As Kynier finished he looked up to see the rampaging spirit galloping towards him.

”Just in time it seems. You really should gamble with something other than your life with this sort of luck,” said that voice in his mind.

Kynier got up and back peddled as the apparition came closer. The shield itself was barely noticeable, like a hazy distortion in the air. The spirit either didn’t see it or didn’t care as it came headlong towards him. Heart racing he watched and hoped that the shield would hold. When the time came, the apparition passed right through it like it didn’t exist. “Petch!” Quickly he dropped down and leaned over. Kynier rolled sideways from hand, to shoulder, to shoulder, and back to his feet as the ghost ran by. Kynier was running out of options. The only two things he could think to do right now risked exposing him more than the shield did.

The horse was turning around and glaring at him with fiery red eyes. “I hate ghosts.”



Job Thread Word Count: 1,362
Total Count: 3,411

[Anja Nightwatcher]

Anja cursed softly as he realized the stranger had fled somewhere with the boy. The ghost stallion pulled at the reins that Anja held in his hands and screamed at him. Granted, the man could sense that the ghost was weaker than before. Possessing and then being regurgitated by a spiritist couldn’t be good for it. Anja could swear he still felt spiritmist clinging to the back of his throat.

In spite of its weakness, the ghost was still putting up a fight. The bridle that Anja had put around the horse’s head provided some manner of restraint but it was hardly enough, and especially with Anja’s hurt ribs he didn’t have the strength to get control over the stallion and calm him down. The ghost screamed again and jerked it's head backwards, ripping the reins from Anja’s shaky hands. The spiritist braced himself for another charge, but instead the horse turned away from him and charged in the direction of a nearby stable.

Maisa trotted up beside Anja and snorted urgently. Anja grimaced and reached up to grab his companion’s yvas and yanked himself onto her back with a wince.

“Don’t push it too hard friend,” Anja warned her. “I’m hurt.” His companion nickered in agreement and started into an easy trot towards the barn. But a thought occurred to Anja and he sat down on her back hard to get her to stop. Maisa flicked her ears at him in question. “We need to handle this more delicately,” Anja told her. “Only fools rush in. Can you find the woman we met before? The drykas?” Maisa nickered in agreement and trotted towards a group of people lingering fearfully nearby.

The woman Anja had spoken to before was barking out orders to a group of stable hands attempting to gather the fleeing horses. She turned towards Anja as he approached and glowered at him. “A fine job you’ve done so far,” the woman snarled.

Anja didn’t have time for explanations. “That stallion was one of yours. A stable boy killed it, and he’s back for revenge.”

Anja’s statement slapped the anger right off of the woman’s face. A moment later, her expression was filled with fury. “Who?!” she snarled. Anja had known she would be furious. Harming a horse was among the worst crimes among the Drykas.

“I don’t know his name yet,” Anja replied. “But apparently this stallion killed the boy’s sister. And he killed it for revenge.”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “That was Exodus!” she replied. “He was an amazing stallion. Would have been great breeding stock, but he went missing. We thought someone stole him.” Her eyes narrowed. “And the boy. That would be Farn.”

Anja nodded. “Who cared for Exodus? Were there any people he trusted? Got along with? Who raised him?”

The drykas woman’s eyes closed. “He was my pet project. I raised him from a foal. He was part of a big breeding project. I...do you need my help?” The woman was clearly afraid, and she spoke with great hesitancy.

“I won’t ask you to risk yourself,” Anja reassured her. But I have a spiritist trick I can use. Can I know your name?”

The woman swallowed. “Tieria,” she replied.

Anja nodded. “This matter should be solved soon. Just hang in there.” Anja gently nudged Maisa with his knees, and the mare turned and trotted back towards the barn at a hasty pace.

The pair made it to the barn just in the to see the ghost stallion charge straight through the stranger. Maisa surged forward like a lighting bold as Anja gestured to his companion in Pavi. 'Protect’.

Anja leapt off of Maisa’s back and cringed once more at the pain in his ribs. The mare stood fast in front of the stranger, and Anja stood in front of Maisa. Then with a breath, Anja yanked his last vial of spiritmist out of his pocket. This was their last chance. If this didn’t work, then all he could be expected to do would be to flee.

Anja uncorked the vial, and slathered it over his face. As he did so, the man concentrated intensely on Tieria. He imagined her appearance to a dime. Long waves of brown hair. Pale complexion. A stubborn chin. Callused, hardworking hands. As he did so, he repeated her name over and over in his head. Tieria, Tieria, Tieria, Tieria.

The ghost horse snorted in surprise, and the anger left it’s eyes replaced by a mild curiosity. No wonder, seeing as to the ghost his appearance had changed to that of the woman who had raised him.

Anja couldn’t speak, as his voice would not have changed the way his appearance had. Instead, he gestured in Pavi, gestures that Tieria must have used while dealing with the stallion. He made slight gestures for 'calm’ 'easy’ 'gentle’ and ‘slow’.

The ghost nickered softly, a friendly noise that made Anja’s heart soar with relief. The fact that Anja’s appearance had suddenly changed before the ghost’s eyes didn’t see to bother it. The stallion, like all ghosts, wanted to believe the Lie. And the horse wasn’t intelligent enough to discern a difference.

Carefully, Anja approached the stallion once more. The reins hung limply down off of the ghost’s head. Gently Anja took them and began to walk the stallion slowly out of the barn and towards the paddock area. The stallion followed compliantly behind. He made a quick gesture to Maisa as he went. He couldn’t speak to the stranger with his voice as it was to let him know what was needed. But he could rely on Maisa to handle the details.

Kynier would find himself suddenly seized by his collar and dragged about a foot before being released. Maisa gave the man a piercing look, and scraped one of her feet urgently. Then she moved over towards the stall where the stable boy lay hidden. Effortlessly, Maisa unlatched the stall door with a flick of her nose and a moment later the screaming stable boy was dragged out and deposited at Kynier’s feet. Maisa seized Kynier’s collar again and dragged him towards the stable door a few places. Then she gave one more urgent stamp of her foot, and trotted towards the barn door. After a moment she glanced over her shoulder, waiting with anticipation.

(Words, 1058 Total, 3770)

[Kynier]

His feet moved slowly to take him away from the ghost. Kynier attempted to reach inward in order to conjure some res, but staring down those inferno eyes of the apparition was proving to be too distracting. If he knew as an absolute certainty that it would work it would probably be easier. But he didn’t know if it would work and was hesitant to all the consequences of its failure. Before anything happened Kynier heard the galloping of corporeal hooves approaching. He didn’t dare remove his gaze from the being before him. Not until the mare of belong to the stranger set itself between the apparition and him. Kynier didn’t know why but he felt reassured with the best acting as a shield for him.

Whenever he tried to move the beast did as well. Kynier eventually had to bend and peer under the horse’s neck to see what the stranger was doing. What it was he didn’t get to see, but the man was rubbing something on his face thoroughly. Whatever the substance was it seemed to be working. The apparition’s bod… behavior changed. It no longer seemed prepared for violent action. The stranger didn’t say anything, to anyone, but cautiously approached the ghost. Taking it by the halter the stranger led the being out of the stables.

The horse before him turned and grabbed at his collar. Large blunt teeth pinched his shoulder as it dragged him a step towards where the stranger had gone. Kynier would’ve gasped in pain and rubbed his shoulder had he the sensation to feel the pain his body just experienced. Then the horse stared and stamped pointedly. The beast then when and… opened the stable door? Clearly it was much more intelligent than a standard horse. It fetched the stable boy and dumped him at Kynier’s feet. When the horse came to grab Kynier again he wasn’t compliant.

“Hey!” he shouted leaning away from the beast. Then it took the sleeve of his arm instead and pulled without tearing his shirt. The horse released him, stamped again, and trotted off towards the door. Before exiting it stopped and looked back at him with that expression only a horse could make. Kynier understood the message. Still rubbing his shoulder he took hold of the stable boy. “Let’s go boy,” he grunted as he dragged him to his feet. The youth begrudgingly came with him.

Outside of the stable had been calming down. That was before the stranger was leading the apparition back through the field. Panic rekindled in the animals still present. The stranger didn’t seem to be bothered by it, and the ghost remained calm somehow. Following the horse that followed behind its owner, Kynier came up the rear with the lad. They were being led to another stable. Kynier wasn’t sure why they were going there. But if the apparition was calm and the boy was coming along too, he suspected that they were on their way to the stablemaster. What was her name? Kynier had spoken to her once early last spring.

When entering the other stable Kynier could see the drykas woman. Apparently the stable boy understood what was about to happen, better than Kynier did, and immediately started to struggle. Before the boy could turn to run with a shout of protest, Kynier enveloped him in his arms to restrain him. With a violent twist he threw the younger man to the ground and quickly drew his short sword. Unphased by the weapon the boy, Farn, started to get to his feet. Kynier wasn’t in the mood to deal with the hassle and swung his sword at the boy’s leg. Cold blue tinted steel sliced through flesh and muscle as Kynier hamstrung the stable hand. Blade coated at the tip with blood Kynier took hold of the boy and dragged him the rest of the way.



Job Thread Word Count: 649
Total Word Count: 4,060

[Anja Nightwatcher]

Maisa waited impatiently for the stranger to follow, stomping in place as she waited. When the man finally picked up the stable hand and made for the barn door, she fearlessly led the way.

Back outside, Anja stoicly led the ghost steed towards Tieria. Around him people screamed and fled, and horses panicked but Exodus remained calm, believing his beloved person to be leading him. The horse paused however, confused, as Tieria came into view.

“He’s tame now,” Anja said, releasing the reins and allowed the Lie to slip as he stepped a few paces away. Tiera stared at the ghost in shock. Her hands trembled. “That’s really Exodus?” she murmured.

The ghost nickered, and Anja watched as tears pricked at Tiera’s eyes. The two of them stepped together, and the stallion butted at Tieria’s hand, shaking his head as his nose passed straight through her. She pawed at his neck helplessly, then tightened her mouth.

“Where’s Farn?”

Anja glanced behind him, just in time to see the stranger cut the stable boy through the hamstring and drag him forward even as he screamed and struggled. The ghost turned its head, and it’s mood changed in an instant. It whined and shook its head furiously, and scraped it's feet.

“Shush,” Tieria told the ghost sharply, causing him to drop his head and roll his eyes. “I’ll take care of this. Don’t you worry.” She dropped the stallion’s reins and stepped towards the struggling stable boy and the stranger. The stallion waited faithfully where he had been left.

Tiera eyed the stranger’s shortsword thoughtfully as she approached. “Mind if I borrow that?” she asked. She took the sword once it was offered, and without ceremony she plunged it into the boy’s chest. “No one kills my horses,” she growled through the boy’s garbled, blood soaked screams.

The stab was messy and unpracticed, inflicted by an amature hand but it did its job. After a few minutes, the boy stopped struggling and fell still. Anja watched the boy’s invisible ghost leave him, and approached him. “You could go find your sister now,” Anja suggested. Although still in the agony of death, the boy considered. “Yeah,” he said finally, in a voice only Anja could hear. “This place is a shyke hole anyways. Gotta be something better somewhere else.” And with that the ghost faded.

Anja turned in time to see Tiera handing the bloody shortsword back to the stranger. Then, hesitantly, she glanced at the stallion.

Exodus was barely a shadow now. His form seemed ready to vanish at the slightest gust of wind. Tieria sighed. “Get going now,” she told it. “You’ve got better things to waiting than this.”

The horse couldn’t understand what she said, but perhaps the spirit of her words created an understanding. Or perhaps he just needed one final word from his master. Regardless, it was enough. The ghost vanished, the bridle and reins clattering ceremoniously to the ground.

Anja exhaled in relief and looked around him. Stable hands nervously hovered near Tieria as she explained what had happened. Anja caught her eye, and the woman gave him a nod. It was a simple thing, but Anja knew he had earned the woman’s respect.

Maisa trotted over to Anja and nudged his shoulder gently. Anja stroked her pale head, then finally turned to the stranger. “I have a few questions, if you don’t mind,” the Drykas told him. “If you’re so inclined. I’ll buy you a drink for the trouble.”

(Words 583, Total 3953)

[Kynier]

Almost as soon as he tossed the boy forward for judgement, the stable master approached and requested his short sword. The ire in her eyes was clear to Kynier, that if he didn’t hand her the weapon she would take it or another one anyway. The boy’s fate was sealed and he didn’t care if it was his weapon that brought this to a conclusion or someone else’s. Kynier gave her the blade and she immediately plunged it into the boy’s chest. He remembered when the gurgled sound of death used to bother him. Now it had no effect.

At last when the boy finally passed the other man began speaking. Kynier looked up to see the man staring at nothing. The ghost of the horse itself was already beginning to fade from view, though not entirely. The stable master struggled to withdraw the cold iron blade from the corpse. When she finally had it removed she gave it back to him. Kynier flicked it a couple of times to remove the blood before wiping what was left on the corpse before him. Then with only a few words from the stable master the once rampaging spirit was gone.

The other horse, the white one with a dark mane and legs, approached its master. Kynier sheathed his weapon as the man spoke to him. He eyed the man and his blue eyes. Whoever he was, he had the ability to initiate interactions with ghosts. That would be invaluable. “Tomorrow. No Man’s Land Tavern at the thirteenth bell. I’ll have a few questions of my own.” Without any more word he turned and left the stable. Though it had been an ordeal with a ghost, Kynier was in better spirits.

Over the next few bells he wove his way through the alleys and streets of the city. Kynier entered the Majestic and saw the sunberthan rat squatting to make a new contribution to the already horrid smell. Drawing his short sword again he knocked the required pattern to get the wizard’s attention. After a chime the shelves opened and Doler stood there in the opening. His critical gaze took in Kynier. He hadn’t realized there was a considerable about of hay imbedded in his clothes, and that the horrid smell came from what he’d stepped in at the Jolly Good Stables. “What is the situation at Tieria’s?” the wizard asked.

“The spirit of a horse was creating a scene. While it was alive it had killed a girl. The brother was a stable hand and had taken revenge on it. The spirit came back seeking revenge on him.” Kynier stated. Doler looked at him expectantly. “Someone else was there dealing with the situation. The man managed to calm the apparition enough to witness the Tieria kill the stable boy. Then it vanished.” A moment of silence passed between them. “Apparently, there’s now a ghost hunter in Sunberth.”

Doler was expressionless, “I knew that already.” He retreated to his domain and closed the secret passage. Kynier glared after him indignantly.

“Seriously?”



Job Thread Word Count: 509
Total Word Count: 4,569