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[Isaac Iceglaze]

1st of Fall, 521 AV
Early Morning

“Ya, it doesn’t thaw.”

Isaac made a face of disbelief, mixed with a sense of distaste. A stone that’s resistant to thawing but looks exactly the same color as Icestone? He touched the wall and remembered he could feel nothing. He couldn’t feel the beauty of this stone unless he materialized himself. Even then, the touch wouldn’t be the same.

Eyes closed, his arms stretched upwards, Isaac quietly listened to a snow pigeon fly higher until it disappeared out of sight within this building they called ‘The Northern Dovecote’.

“You’re going now, ya?”

The young ghost nodded, eyes still closed, scratching a phantom itch on his back. Force of habit. “I don’t know if I should though,” he answered, a smirk creeping up on his face. “Never really wanted to leave.”

“Oh don’t worry, you’re not leaving, The Outpost is like an extension of us, y’know?”

The voice he was listening to was of a fairly young woman who seemed to be the one in charge of caring for the birds. When he came in, he’d seen her leave out some food for them to eat, and went up to her, at first unsure of what to say. She watched him stare at the wall and stayed silent.

The silence was overbearing, so she broke it.

“I swear on Morwen, you’re really not leaving in the way that you would if you were going to another city in Mizahar. This place, The Outpost, it’s a gift. A blessing. Without Xyna’s place for trade, we would starve. It’s really easy to come back here too, because the way it works is that you can only leave the Outpost through the way you came in. It’s the same for everybody. I learned that there’s a city called ‘Ravok’ in the middle of a lake, and everyone there worships Rhysol, the God of Evil, and anyone who enters The Outpost from Ravok can’t come to Avanthal through the Outpost, see? They can only leave The Outpost by going back to Ravok. It’s designed that way, I think, to prevent war. Or at least, that’s what Xyna promised. No bounties, too. So ya, there’s nothing to worry about, okay?”

Isaac nodded, without a word. He couldn’t tell if she was infantilizing him or not, but the way she spoke about the place seemed to make sense for the most part.

“It’s funny that you swear on Morwen, and then speak so highly of this goddess named Xyna,” he said, looking at the floor. She clicked her teeth. His eyes cast over her form to look at the door he needed to open.

“If you ever get the honour of meeting Xyna, I would advise that you pay her your gratitude. You ever had soulmist? Many of the spirits that have stayed here are only able to thrive because of the food we get from The Outpost. After Morwen left—“

“And do you know why she left?” The ex-mason raised his voice at her, irked by her clear loss of faith.

She stayed silent.

“What’s your name?” He demanded.

“Selvenienne Frostfawn, granddaughter of Tovan,” she answered, softly, recognizing her insensitivity. “And you are?”

“Isaac Iceglaze, son of Lor’eno, alive and well.”

Brother of Marrick, thought the Frostfawn, recognizing the father’s name. Dire Polar Bear, was he?

Isaac narrowed his eyes at her, unsure of what she was thinking to herself before looking back at the door again.

“Nice to meet you, Selvenienne. And thanks, for telling me a bit about this place. Focus your efforts on finding our Queen, will you? It would help. We are a capable people, and our city has been self-sufficient for many years before this Outpost came along. Imagine if this place disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. What would you think of Xyna then?”

It wasn’t as if Isaac knew what he was talking about. A part of him hated having to talk about any of this in the first place, knowing that he’d let his emotions out on this woman. He didn’t care what she did, really. He knew that she was just doing her job.

“Oh, I don’t know,” answered Selvenienne. It dawned on her then, the kind of faith she was holding. “Fine yes, I agree. Morwen. We must help find her,” she answered with a frown, a guilt beginning to build, realizing that she was talking to a spirit instead of a living, breathing being. “Is that why you’re going to The Outpost? I don’t know if you’ll find her there,” her tone was higher, trying her best to gently let him know that others had been trying for years, with no luck.

Isaac nodded slowly, grunting affirmatively. He wasn’t going to tell her much of anything else. She was alive. He was dead.

She couldn’t possibly understand.

The ghost stared at the door. He focused on his form and began to pay attention to his body. Slowly but surely, the materiality began to form, replacing the flickering with more solid lines and color. Selvenienne pursed her lips and moved forward to open the door for him. Isaac put his hands in his pockets, another force of habit, watching her swing the door wide.

With a nod of thanks, he moved in.

[Isaac Iceglaze]

Everything was elaborate.

Isaac took a moment to notice the sculpting, the curvatures, the craftsmanship in the way this side of the dovecote was fashioned.

A shock to see walls made of a different material. Browner tones. Was it a clay?

“Welcome, welcome, come right on in.” A bearded man with a grey-blue, charismatic gaze looked upon Isaac, greeting him with a practiced, friendly voice as soon as he’d blinked a few feet further inside the area. The ghost materialized a hand to shake and provided his name, while the man introduced himself as Paul Resan, outlined how the Dovecote works, invited him to visit the Bazaar, and went to hand him a map of the place.

“Can you tell me where Xyna’s Shrine is?” asked Isaac, before taking the piece of parchment.

Paul’s brows raised, and a grin formed, lighting up his face with crinkles. “Oh, you’re ready to be a devout one?” Zac simply smiled back as the caretaker pointed to the location and further explained that it was also the headquarters of The Keiss, Xyna’s marked followers.

“Just know that you can’t top Zed, our Champion. You’re welcome to try, though,” Paul laughed, imagining a ghost as a Champion.

“Thanks for the info, Paul,” responded Isaac, shaking his head with as polite a smile as possible, not quite sure of the joke.

With a careful touch, the ghost began to form the mist require to push the map up in front of him, to hold it in the air. There was a destination in sight and he knew he just needed to go. Isaac looked around himself one last time, noticing the forms of others walking in and out from the existing gateways. Paul had moved on to greet others.

A bit of fear gripped him as he stayed in place.

Scared of what he might learn, worried about his Goddess, and in a mode of panic, Isaac dropped the misted hold on his map.

“Shyke,” he whispered. The ghost wasn’t too skilled with moving things yet. He crouched down, touching the rolled parchment again, and allowed it to float upwards as he stood. He watched, imagined it unfurl, and it did.

Well, that’s neat, he thought.

Isaac studied the map further.

[Moritz Craven]

1 Fall 521

While Moritz had never experienced a true winter, not counting the odd magical one that had occurred in Lhavit once when he was young, he had not truly experienced the cold. On the other hand he had experienced hot, and having lived in Lhavit without winter had not experienced much in his early life regarding heat.

And then he had come to the Outpost, and had experienced heat. Albeit a dry heat of the sun bearing done on someone, but a true heat. More recent than that he had moved to Syka and had experienced another kind of heat. That was more of a wet heat, a humid heat that seemed to sweep in upon him. Moritz was unsure which he preferred, or which was worse, but he had come to realize the value in being cool. Escaping the heat was an instinctive thing, even if it was done by lying in the shade, burrowing underground, or such. The more he experienced heat the more he understood this, and the more diverse of a concept he understood it to be.

He did not have much on him today, sandals he had purchased before on his feet, a pack on his back, some money inside, and a few odds and ends inside, but other than that and the bracelet permanently affixed to his wrist he was rather devoid of possessions. He had not even brought his weapons today, leaving them back at his home.

Walking once more into that dry heat bearing down on him Moritz held up a hand to ward his eyes and looked about the Outpost once more. As always there were plants. Water, found in the fountains. A respite from the heat was found in this. Just as escaping heat was instinctive, gathering around sources of water was also so for people. This place being full of water was further proof of this. Moritz considered this and knew that, logically speaking, if it was not so full of freely used water it would not exist.

Peering with his odd eyes, square pupil less goat like eyes from his Okomo nature which were further altered and made absurd by the markings and coloration of his Iraso sight. Even inactive they were quite distinct, the sunburst coloration marked Moritz as something other. And when in use, well then they were even ore startling, almost glowing with light and djed.

First thing upon arriving Moritz looked about to find the entrance man, Moritz had forgotten his name but knew he was a worshiper of Xyna, knew quite a bit about the place, handed out maps, and always seemed happy to talk and help facilitate trade. He had discussed things at length with the man before and found him an honest if focused person, but nice enough to discuss things with.

As his eyes found the man Moritz paused and began to squint, seeing the form out in the sun... And not seeing. Having seen a fair number of ghosts, and this one being out in the sun, he almost immediately knew him to be a ghost. It also helped that he seemed to be holding or floating a paper over his hand without actually touching it, quite an odd sight.

At least for a moment, before the paper fell. Moritz was also somewhat sure the paper had clipped through his insubstantial hand at one point, further proving the man was a ghost.

Heading over to the entrance man and the ghost who was having trouble holding his paper Moritz waved at the entrance man before turning to the ghost. When he spoke it was in a somewhat bored manner devoid of excitement. Neutral some might say. In truth Moritz was not bored. Of course neither was he excited... He just simply... Was.

"If you would like, I can hold that for you. I'm in no particular rush today, so would not mind assisting."

Moritz would give the ghost a few moments to respond, gazing at him to meet his eyes. In his head he silently counted, one, two, three... Ensuring the proper amount of eye contact he had learned, or at least once more attempting the appropriate amount which he was attempting to refine till he had mastered the practice. He saw it was a type of math, though rather than numbers he used social norms and interactions to form an equation and solve for his actions.

For a moment his mind wandered off on math, doing some sums mentally in preparation for negotiations, before returning his thoughts to the current interaction. Though it was rather quick and all happened while he held the ghosts gaze- or tried to.

Thirty four gold mizas plus seven makes.... Six makes forty, plus one, so forty one. Seven boxes times three gold mizas each... Seven plus three was ten, plus four more made fourteen... Plus six made twenty, plus one made.... Twenty one.

If the ghost accepted Moritz would take the offered map and hold it up for the spirits inspection, alleviating the need for them to waste their precious soul mist simply holding a piece of paper.

Whether said spirit accepted or not Moritz would nod once before introducing himself.

"Hello, I am Moritz Craven. And you? And I would assume you are a ghost, are you not?"

WC: 886

[Isaac Iceglaze]

Isaac’s hands went up to rub his eyelids, as if he needed to clear something in his vision before looking at the source of the voice speaking to him. The vague memory of a habit completed, he noticed that he was still holding the map with a wispy tendril of mist from his being.

He wasn’t noticing that the effort was tiring him out, and instead worked to hold it steady as he looked upon a young lad with eyes he’d never seen before, and hair like it belonged to an old woman, seeing how pale and patchy it was. His eyes were unlike any other Vantha that Isaac had known. They were strangely shaped and bursting with contrasting colour. The ghost looked away towards the gate that was closest to the path that led to the shrine.

It was a kind offer, he admitted to himself.

“Thanks. Working on this for the first time, so,” the ghost paused, using his will to gently bring the map further out for the both of them to see, spread out. “I think I’m getting used to it.”

Feeling a bit more confident now, despite the growing fatigue, he gently introduced himself as well.

“Nice to meet you, Craven. I’m Isaac Iceglaze, entering from Avanthal,” he said, looking back at his gaze for a moment to give the lad a polite smile before focusing once more on his form. Isaac did not recognize the name, and guessed that it meant he was not Vantha. The ghost did his best to materialize some of himself and most of his hand as he offered a shake as a greeting.

Whether it was returned or not, Isaac would drop his smile and continue holding up the map. He hadn’t learned much about the mechanics of his present state as a ghost, so to hear someone ask him so bluntly about it felt achingly foreign.

“I guess it’s hard to hide,” he said grimly yet jokingly, aware of the slight sarcasm in his tone. ”Doesn’t matter what you assume, I’m still me. Came here to learn a thing or two from someone named Eliah at Xyna’s Shrine.” Isaac paused, checking to see if he could memorize the route. It didn’t seem obvious, and it looked like it would take time to get there.

“No rush, you said? Where are you from, Craven? With what purpose do you find yourself here in this place they call The Outpost?”

The questioning was slightly habitual, his tone void of terseness yet verging on intrigue, since he’d been a Kelvic guard for some seasons with the Watch. Isaac found it hard to be the kind of ‘social’ that most people would deem friendly. His demeanour had only gotten worse since death, though most who knew him never dared to bring up how much moodier he’d gotten. Bringing it up made it worse.

Any answer that the lad provided would be met with nods, and an occasional raise of a brow if it was something particularly surprising.

Chatter from behind encouraged visitors to keep moving and flowing through, and Isaac followed course. A ghost couldn't quite feel temperatures, and even the materialized form was just a denser version of a substance without the fullness of senses. To Isaac, the warmth of The Outpost was nothing more than a change of scenery. He felt no particular way about the change, and really only kept his thoughts to whatever the next step was. After a long time, he'd gathered the motivation to take action on the information Marus had given him. It took more than the average amount of effort to stay locked on finding out more about what he wanted to know.

Today, he was avoiding his usual, brooding existence in disassociated misery.

[Moritz Craven]

While the question to an outward observer would seem quite obvious, Moritz knew that when meeting a ghost it was important to confirm. Not the answer itself, since he knew the answer.... But rather the answer the ghost gave. After all not all ghosts knew they were dead, and if the man instead of agreeing tried to correct him and explain things then that would tell him something about the ghost as well.

Regardless of the answer Moritz would learn something, and so had decided to ask that to the next ghost he met, way back a half a chime before he asked it.

If that question did not work, or even if it did, he would try to further refine his approach to talking with a ghost and garnering simple but important facts from it.

When the spirit denied his request Moritz was a bit surprised for a moment, after all the task was easy for him but constantly draining for a ghost. But once it was explained why he understood. After all he of all people understood training and such things. He was constantly training and practicing odd skills, even during his current conversation, and so a ghost doing so made sense to him.

Of course.... Moritz pondered... Without a body what all could a ghost practice? Voicing his train of thought Moritz spoke, as much to himself as to the ghost. Though if the spirit answered him he would be somewhat pleased.

"Hmmm.... I had not thought of a spirit doing such things to be honest. Though it does make sense to me. What sorts of things can you practice and train as you are? I would be interested to know... Its always good to have new data sets from a new source as well... As well as what limits there are on training such things. I suppose that would be the drain on soulmist... Have you noticed such limits hindering you before? Ah but then another reason why sometimes Spiritists offer soulmist to a ghost... Just as I train on making such things, the ghost would need it to replenish after training... Any thoughts?"

The name Avanthal vaguely sounded familiar to Moritz, but he could not recall where from. He half remembered hearing it, but it had not been a striking enough conversation, or perhaps had been too long ago and not said often enough, such that he could not recall. Isaac though was a name he thought in his head a few times, working to remember it. Names were important for placing people, and so he endeavored to recall this one. Isaac Iceglaze. The last name made Moritz think of some kind of cold pot covering but he imaged this train of thought was off.

Moritz took the proffered limb summoned into sudden fullness, or an approximation of it, and shook it. As usual it was quite odd interacting with a semi firm spectral limb, but he was used to such things growing up around ghosts. He kept his expression neutral as they shook, though his eyes wandered from the ghost, where their hands met, the map, and back to the ghost in short order.

At the ghosts replied question Moritz shrugged before responding.

"I'm from Lhavit originally, that is where I was raised. But today I have come from Syka. Its similar in some ways to this place, just as hot, but wetter. As for why I'm here, I suppose its the same as most of the people here. Shopping. Though nothing specific, just a general browsing. You don't now what you don't know until you know that you don't know it. The same goes for things. You don't know of the things being offered you would want until you see them. As for what I would look for... Well... Most likely weapons, I tend to check those when I visit more than anything else, but I've nothing specific I'm looking for."

While Moritz was many things close lipped was not one of them. He had yet to find a situation where he could not find ten words to fill the need of two, and so erred on the side of saying far too many things than too few. He would not often bring up unrelated topics by himself, though how he connected two things was often confusing to others, but once brought up he would answer honestly and wordily.

"That being how it is, if you needed some assistance or accompaniment I've nothing to stop me from doing so, nor any particular reason not to. Or to I suppose, but I find reasons to do things are easy to find than reasons not to."

WC: 781

[Isaac Iceglaze]

Practise and train.

Those were words that he was familiar with, having volunteered as a guard and ambitions to work alongside their Queen…

Isaac shook his head gently and handed the floating map over to the lad.

“I think I’ll need help,” he answered simply, with a small smile. “I haven’t been doing as much as I used to, and haven’t felt like my usual self. What is this soulmist you speak of?”

Isaac took in the question regarding limits and saved it to answer later. He was not about to admit weakness in the ways that would hinder his goals.

“Weapons,” he said, his tone lower now. “I can’t help you with that. Not yet, I suppose. I’m doing my best to be the sort to handle issues through talking about it, instead of through violence. I’m not, what would you call it,” he paused, blinking forward once before wondering whether he wanted ‘accompaniment’.

“Well, I’m doing my best to be more sociable nowadays. Looking to learn from a man at Xyna’s Shrine. I’m told he’s dealt with spirits like mine, so,” Isaac did his best to unfurl the map. It barely worked, but if the young man was indeed helping, Isaac would point out the location.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m looking for an alternative to,” he paused to calm the storm within. “Uh, to action resulting from anger, I guess, to put it lightly. I figure some prayer might help. The Gods are supposed to know more than us, so I’m openly asking for help, and seeing where I could offer my skills as well, since I carry no coin. Would you care to join me?”

Hearing about new places like ‘Lhavit’ and ’Syka’ wasn’t fazing him in the slightest. He was aware that other places existed, but was convinced that none of them were as great as Avanthal. Even here, in this place that had more tones of warmth, he felt nothing like the kind of welcome he felt at home. Isaac simply nodded when understanding what it was that the Craven was here for. Shopping was practical. It was just like the Frostfawn said: a place for trade.

Isaac only hoped he had what it took to trade for the kind of training he wanted.

If the lad agreed to join him, Isaac would move through the area in the direction of the temple devoted to Xyna.

[Moritz Craven]

Moritz frowned, unsure if the ghost was being obtuse, or perhaps simply did not know much about being a ghost. Was it perhaps recently deceased? Or was it the term that was the problem and not the concept? Surely, Moritz reasoned, a ghost would know what soulmist was just as a person would know what flesh and blood was even if they did not know their names... Or so Moritz reasoned.

"Soulmist? Uh... Its the... Well ghost stuff. What makes up ghosts. How to put it... That sort of misty bit that clings to you, makes up your form, that you use when you touch things, that stuff. That is a ghosts soulmist. A spiritist can make soulmist of a sort... Its sort of like food for a ghost, and replaces that lost soulmist. The sort a Spiritist makes, just think of it like food for a ghost, and you aren't that far off. From what I know and what you have said, it seems reasonable to assume that just as a person fuels themself with food to make exertions, a ghost would do the same with soulmist. And I would think that just as with a person, if you exert yourself too much and use up your soulmist, you would be weakened just as a starved or overexerted living person."

Pausing for a moment Moritz scratched his nose, inspecting the ghost.

"I can make soulmist, but honestly I'm not very good at it. It would be better than nothing, but not by much... Though I have been trying to practice... I'm nowhere near as skilled as my mother, she can make amazing soulmist."

"As for combat, that is fine, I was just saying looking for weapons is why I usually come here, but I don't specifically need to do so. I prefer talking things out as well, but I also want to be able to defend myself and my friends and those I care for, so I learn such things for self defense and such things. Talking is first, but it doesn't always work. Or it might just not work, say with a wild animal. You can't talk a hungry wolf out of attacking you. In that case, fighting is the only option."

Nodding along Moritz considered the ghosts words, not finding his words untrue.

"I try to avoid fighting or acting out of anger. I don't think I would attack or fight for such things. That seems as good a reason as any to seek out knowledge. I wouldn't mind learning of such things either. I wouldn't mind going along for that."

As the ghost headed off Moritz followed after, letting him take the lead as he seemed to want to.

He had met a fair number of ghosts, mostly around his mother, and knew some were quite different from others. This one seemed a bit more calm, more reasonable, but he also knew they were still a ghost. Helping them made sense, but he was still going to be cautious. Better that than other possible

Looking around as they walked, Moritz pondered for a moment before turning back to the ghost.

"So what sorts of things have you tried learning or getting better at? I'm unsure what sorts of things you can do, pr can train and get better at, at least without possessing someone. I mean you can't learn how to climb a building or do a flip without a physical body."

WC: 576

[Isaac Iceglaze]

“I’ve just been trying to get better at talking to people so far.” Isaac scratched the back of his neck and stretched a bit. A habit. The Kelvic had been dead for some time… and mourning it.

Basically depressed. Deep rest was needed, perhaps… but impossible.

He wanted her back first.

But Isaac kept confusing himself about ‘who’ that was.

He shook his head, another habit, like he was shaking away past memories.

“Thanks for explaining all of that about the, uh, fuel I guess? I didn’t know much about this soulmist that’s been given to me sometimes. Maybe someone talked to me about it before, not sure. Good to know that it’s like food. Not sure if I know how to make it. Hard to remember some of the past, I don’t know why. I mean, I know I’m not…” his voice trailed off. He wasn’t sure how to admit to himself about the fact that he wasn’t traditionally ‘alive’. Instead, he pictured Kaivanna’s face and it somehow morphed before it disappeared.

“Sorry,” muttered Zac, smiling. He walked and talked, taking in the surroundings. The architecture was so different. He admired it… because it was more artistic than protective. Soaring arches, open courtyards… which reminded him a bit of the way homes were designed in Avanthal. There was lush greenery almost everywhere.

It was slightly unnerving.

“I see what you’re saying. I know what it’s like to have to defend oneself and others all the time. Especially friends. Things can go haywire pretty quickly,” he said, shrugging.

“But I guess it all depends on how skilled you are. Or how lucky you are,” he smirked, looking at the lad. “Have you ever been possessed?” asked Isaac, half jokingly. “I can’t say that I remember the last time I’ve possessed someone. I avoid doing that. I don’t have a reason to do so. It’s odd, hearing you talk about my lack of a body. I’m right here, you hear me, I’m made of this soulmist you speak of, so it should be enough for me to be who I was, and yet you point out a fact about learning…” his voiced trailed off again.

“I don’t know how to think about that. I don’t need to climb up a building if I can just walk through it. If I missed having a physical body, I would have moved on by now. I don’t care about learning to do physical stuff.”

Isaac paused for a moment, thinking through his words carefully.

“I care about my love for my people. My people in Avanthal. I feel like we’ve all just been forgotten by the Gods. I’m here because I care and I’ll continue to be here until I know how to help them. Maybe that doesn’t make sense to people. Does it make sense to you? I don’t even think it makes all that much sense to myself, but I’m told I can talk to someone about it, so I will.”

When they got to the elegance of Xyna’s shrine, Isaac was struck immediately with awe. The beauty was nothing like Avanthal but it was still elaborate in its uniqueness. After asking around, they were directed through the grounds towards the public chapel, being told that they would find Eliah there.

After some more questioning, they were told that he was actually within a communal workshop room. Isaac frowned at this, not sure what to do.

“Craven,” he began. “Do you mind if I pray for a bit first before we go to find Eliah? Not sure if you want to join me in prayer to this Goddess. If you do mind, I'll pray in silence. Like I said, I’m not here to do business, but if this entire place exists because of her, I would like to offer my gratitude. It’s all I have. Plus, I don’t think it hurts to ask for help in prayer before going to someone. Are you okay with that?”

With the lad’s answer, Isaac would continue forwards. He floated over a kneeling pillow in front of the guilded statue of Xyna.

Prayer :

Goddess Xyna, thank you for creating this place they call The Outpost. It is beautiful. Everything seems to be created with artistry in mind. I see that you have created a place of opulence within this place of profit. I see life and growth. I see details and designs. Thank you. I am grateful to be able to visit.

I pray to you because I know I am in your domain and I have temporarily left Avanthal, which is Morwen's domain. I know that she disappeared. I pray that she is found. I pray that I can learn the skills required to negotiate her return. May I please learn in your domain? May you please show me the way towards Morwen's appearance in Avanthal once again? I don't know anything about why she left. I don't need to know why right now, but I wish to help the people of Avanthal... and right now, I don't know how.

I will speak to Eliah as my first step.

Praying for your glory, Xyna.

[Moritz Craven]

The more the spirit spoke and reacted the more Moritz was left feeling he was confused. This puzzled the Kelvic for a moment, finding it odd that he was more easily able to figure out what a ghost was thinking or feeling compared to a living person. He was unsure if this said more about the ghosts or himself, though... Moritz admitted to himself, with his odd upbringing it was probably more related to him than the ghosts.

Plus being dead perhaps they were less likely to hide such things as their reactions, losing their filter in death... It made sense to Moritz, but he was unsure if that was all there was to it.

"And how has that been going? Improving talking to people? And are many people open to talking to ghosts? In my experience not many people are too used to it. I'm sort of an exception, but then I grew up around ghosts."

He was surprised the more he learned about how little the ghost knew about things he considered ghost related, making him wonder again how long the ghost had been dead. He was careful about asking that though, knowing that for some ghosts the method of their death was a touchy point for obvious reasons... While he could be blunt as a person, Moritz also knew from experience some of the common things that troubled ghosts, namely their being ghosts, which he found much simpler than a living person and their diverse reactions and triggers.

At the question on possession Moritz nodded before looking up, trying to mentally count the times and remember the occasion..

"Sure, a few times. I've actually been possessed here at the outpost before, though I gave the ghost permission first. We bought a pair of shoes if I recall... While she was possessing me. Sandals actually. Like I said, my mother is a Spiriitist, so most such things others find odd or off putting with ghosts I'm used to. Though in regards to the actual skills involved in dealing with ghosts, I'm much newer. I've only had a single lesson, and only made soulmist a few times. So I'm not all that skilled. Hopefully in time and with practice I'll get better. I'm still pretty rough on being possessed as well, I didn't do all that well. I think its the instinct of most people to force the ghost out, and I've got to learn to fight that natural impulse. Kind of like figuring out how to ignore an itch on your back."

Moritz spoke on such things in his normal blase manner, speaking both matter of factly as if discussing the sunny weather while also speaking in a rather neutral tone.

"Though as I was saying before, I would thinking possessing someone would kind of be needed. I mean after all, there are many things you need a body to learn to do. Even talking, it has things with the mouth and stuff, the hands, so can you learn those when not possessing someone? I'm not sure, though I'm curious if you know. I'm always looking for new information."

Looking at the spirits ghostly body Moritz nodded, understanding what he meant.

"You have a body, just not a physical body. I suppose I'm just in the habit of speaking of bodies as the physical one. You still exist though, as does your presence, or else you wouldn't be you. You are your presence, and a body is... Just a shell for that presence I suppose."

At the mention of speaking Moritz puzzled for a moment. How did ghosts speak? They didn't have a throat, air in their body, nor a physical mouth, so how did they speak? He was unsure on that, though found the idea interesting as a concept.

"And I was just using climbing as an example, I am sure there are other things you would need a physical body for, those are just the first things to come to mind."

Listening to the ghosts words Moritz nodded along, noting his response. He was there... Because he felt he and his people... Were forgotten... Forgotten by the gods... And his need, his reason for pressing on, was to try to address that. That was this ghosts particular need and reason for staying on. He was there to help his people... A reason as unique as any he had heard for a ghost.

"I'm not sure. I think the idea of having a driving need to do something, that does make sense to me. I have some of those of my own. If I died now, I'm not sure what I would do... Its hard to say for sure until it happens to you, isn't it? I think I would pass on, try to live again anew but... I cannot say that for sure unless it happened. But if its your reason for being, I think my understanding of it doesn't matter, just yours does."

Moritz tried to talk casually to the ghost as he would any other person, while avoiding certain topics if he could. But soon enough their feet carried them onward, and they were at the temple the ghost wanted to see. Moritz followed along with the ghost and to the given directions, taking in the temple but not being overly moved by it.

At the ghosts question Moritz nodded, waving away the ghost.

"Sure, that's fine, take your time. I'll just look around, maybe pray a bit myself."

Turning and walking off a few paces to give the ghost some room Moriz silently made a prayer as well, though not to Xyna but Dira. The oddity of praying to one goddess in another ones shrine did not occur to Moritz, and so he did so without a second thought.

Dear Dira, thank you for your blessings. Please guide me on this day as I am with one of your lost children. I do not know that I can guide him onward, though I will try, and I ask that you aid me in any way you can. Thank you, and continue to watch over me until it is my time to meet you.

WC: 1,030

[Isaac Iceglaze]

Isaac felt a bit bombarded by the questions.

Perhaps the lad was just a curious sort, but to Isaac, the Craven struck him as the kind that wouldn't put a bowl of honey down after finding that it can stick. It would never be about the sweetness. Why that analogy came to mind, he wasn't sure. What the ghost was sure about however was the potential for help with his goal for learning.

Reflexively, Isaac felt himself bring in a warmth. A shift, a heaviness, feeling grounded. Slowly, he began to materialize his form. It still flickered, and patches of greys and deep blues existed where it shouldn't if he were alive... but... a practice, 'twas all. Talking to the Craven made him think he needed to be more than a shade of himself.

"It's been okay. I don't tend to want to bother people with my mood. People talk. And I'm happy to talk. I just choose not to, most times. Been thinking, is all. Tired of most topics. All I cared about feels like its just disappearing. So here I am, pushing forward to figure something out."

Isaac was aware of the tone that the lad was speaking in. It wasn't an unusual one. His brother had a way of speaking neutrally as well, so it felt somewhat familiar.

"You speak of possession like it's something you want to continue to feel, eh? Strange. Like I said, I can't think of a reason to possess someone. Don't need shoes. See me talking?" The ghost smiled as if he'd made a joke.

"I guess my ability to talk is more like speaking to someone in your imagination. You can talk to yourself in your mind, I assume, and you don't need to use your mouth or hands for that."

He chuckled, hearing the lad speak of using a physical body.

"You know what? I guess I do know one thing you would need a physical body for." He paused. "Violence," said Isaac, grimly. Then he laughed. "And real hugs. Make that two things." The ghost spoke more like a child in that instance, forgetting his family and friends, forgetting the way he'd died, and forgetting the people that now aged while he stayed forever the same. In spirit.

While learning.

If the Craven was avoiding topics, the ghost couldn't tell. He was right, in a way, about Isaac lacking a filter, in some sense. He lacked a certain version of care he'd once had, when he was alive. What others thought didn't matter to him so much anymore, unless it had something to do with his people, his Goddess.

After they'd both prayed, Isaac made his way over and entered the workshop room.

The door had been open, but curiously, though it was deemed to be communal, there was no one else there except for a man dressed in all black attire. He was standing in front of a lump of some kind, as tall as him, made of what looked to be a stone or a metal of sorts. Hands burning with fire, the man seemed to be shaping it before realizing that there were additional presences in the room.

"Ah, greetings! I don't believe I recognize the two of you," declared the man before them. "I am Eliah, a mage at your service, should you need anything from Xyna's camp. And you are?"

"Isaac," replied the ghost. "Isaac Iceglaze, from Avanthal. And this is," the ghost paused, letting the young lad introduce himself, since he'd briefly forgotten the lad's first name.

The ghost continued. "Marus told me about you. He said you could explain something about negotiation to me. Said you've dealt with spirits like myself before. Craven here has familiarity too, it seems, and we're both looking to learn."

"Ah well," began the man in black. "Is this your first time at The Outpost, Isaac?" The ghost nodded. "I see. Seems you're not too overwhelmed with the place, which is a good sign," Eliah began to pace around the ghost. "And your materialism is holding up adequately, though I see some faults here and there. You might want to work on that. You're here to learn negotiation? What does a spirit like yourself need that for? You're carrying no items other than this map you've been given, which frankly, I'm curious to know if you're feeling tired by now, holding that thing."

The ghost frowned, suddenly aware that he was in fact a little tired. "No, not really. Maybe a bit. Hard to say. Just focusing on being here to learn. Doing my best for my people. Been a Dire Kelvic Polar bear, in line to help our Queen, but I died by accident. Hoping to learn a few things before," Isaac paused, not really wanting to continue the thought of vengeance in the presence of a man who reminded him so much of Kai.

"Hm. Interesting. And you," directing to Moritz. "What are you here looking to learn?"