Chance Meetings [Moritz]

[Alric Lysane]

As they left the bazaar, purchases in hand or secreted about their persons, he let Moritz take the lead. The lad knew where he wanted to go it seemed, his own mental map following along and trying to project where it was the Kelvic had in mind. As they moved, he mused upon his own purchases – something that caught his eye and what he had been informed was a Bagh Nakh – a cruel looking weapon that he could used in tight corners with his empty hands. It was basically a set of claws that would extend a couple of inches beyond his knuckles when gripped in his hand, and he hoped he’d never have to use them.

Still, better prepared and not need them than unprepared and needing them he thought to himself as he trailed Moritz, puzzling upon the lad’s problems.

It seemed as if he had been given his own quest, though of a different nature to Alric’s own, but had perhaps given up on it. He could understand if that was the case, it seemed an insurmountable task, and unlike Alric, who would actively be hunted, Moritz had no imminent threat to himself that would force the issue. Perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, everything died eventually – even the divine. It was a sad thought to him, which surprised him given how often he cursed fate for putting him in the position he was in. A world without the divine seemed like it would be a hollow, less magical affair. Winter was a season, it was a natural rhythm that gave time and life meaning, its absence was felt universally and, no doubt, had effects well beyond what a simple man such as himself could see.

Slowly, through his musings, he understood where they were going – the Courtyard Cantina – and as the realisation dawned they were practically crossing into its grounds, seeking out the counter where he looked over the food and reminisced upon the first visit here what seemed so long ago. He didn’t order any food, he wasn’t overly hungry and not knowing what to expect didn’t wish to empty his stomach at the demonstration Moritz aimed to give him. He did, however, reflect upon how many things seemed to come around again. If they weren’t the same, they were similar, a pair he was part of in the same place, learning new things and revelations made whether instigated or not. He did wonder, at such times, whether there was a great plan to everything, and fancied that in moments of crystallised clarity he could even tentatively sense it, brush up against it and see, if only for a moment, the whole – before forgetting once more, a mortal’s mind unable to comprehend what it had felt.

It was a flight of fancy, perhaps, but it provided some form of comfort to him – that whatever happened, there was some plan working itself out and the, in time, perhaps the world would be better and people would not have to worry too much about monsters and dark beings. His thoughts were shaken from such musings by Moritz’s word and he blinked, refocusing his attention upon the lad opposite him, watching what he was doing intently, seeing if he could work it out as it was being presented. It seemed an odd combination of things, but then again, he had said as much back at the Bazaar and so he shouldn’t have been surprised. Still, seeing was more impactful than hearing.

“I have never seen any, but I have not truly looked, so you could be right. It would be a surprise if, where the cities all meet, there were none. Still, it would make you unique of so, which is not so bad,” he suggested as he leaned back and watched him work with a small smile, “this ghost catches my attention though, why on Mizahar were you being followed by a ghost?” he asked, curiosity tingling at the idea.

Secret :

-3gm - Bagh Nakh

[Moritz Craven]

While there were various places to eat in the Outpost in truth this was the only one Moritz knew of. And so it was a bit more expected that it would be the place he would bring another person when food was needed.

It seemed though that unlike Moritz Alric was not hungry, and so did not intend to order any food. Moritz for his part was quite hungry, and after he was done he planned to eat some of the remaining food rather than process it into soulmmist like the other stuff. Also as there was no one sitting too close to them the chances of bothering another guest was low, though not something Moritz had really considered while choosing a seat.

The Kelvic was a bit surprised to hear the man had not seen any spiritists, but then as he thought on it he realized something.

"I mean, a Spiritist won't look any different, just like with most magics. So perhaps you have seen them, and just did not know. Not all magics visibly change the user like my eyes markings. If there are dead people, there are likely to be ghosts, the more troubled the dead the more likely as well... And if there are ghosts, it would make sense that there would be spiritists to deal with them. Otherwise there would be no measure in case one was malicious and had to be dealt with, like a habitual haunter or malicious possessor. What would you do if a angry ghost appeared one day and wouldn't leave you alone? You'd need someone to deal with it, right?"

Thinking over the various ghosts he had seen and trying to inform the man a bit Moritz continued, expounding on ghosts.

"Honestly though, all ghosts differ. Some are angry. Some are nice. Most seem to have something tying them to life, that I've met, or else I suppose they wouldn't be a ghost and holding on to life once their body perishes. Heck I've even met some that didn't seem to entirely understand that they were dead. And others that did know it. Some would freely speak on how they died, and others it was a touchy thing. Word to the wise, don't bring up a ghost being dead or how they died unless they do first. Just avoid the topic as best you can. Better to ere on the side of caution with such things."

As they spoke and Moritz explained things it seemed their food had been finished, perhaps a bit quicker since Moritz food didn't involve any meat. Though some of the items were cooked, just not meat.

"Why was I with a ghost? I wouldn't say it was following me though, we were just together, both willingly. For a similar reason I suppose with how I met you, and am with you now. I saw a ghost, we ended up striking up a conversation, went to the market, did a few things, bought some sandals while being possessed to let the ghost experience some things, the like. Not too dissimilar to us meeting, albeit she didn't have a physical body. I usually try to talk to a ghost if I see one, just to gauge things, and since most people avoid them most are all too happy to converse."

As normal for Moritz nuance was lost on the Kelvic, and he told this entire story as if it was as normal as donning ones shoes int he morning. Which, perhaps for a Kelvic raised in a Spiritists house it was normal.

Their wait person came over with a tray and set down some items. First was a small bowl with a grinding tool inside it, a mortar and pestle he had seen before. There was also a small blade wrapped inside a clean cloth with just the handle jutting out, and lastly a large platter of food.

Before living and working at a restaurant in Syka there were quite a few things he had not seen before, but many more of the items were familiar to the Kelvic now. Fruit like pineapple. Some cooked pepper and onions. Various other fruits and vegetables. And a bowl of some kind of mixed make which the wait person confirmed was for dipping and was hummus which was a mix of things.

Looking over the ingredients Moritz continued his lesson, trying to decide what to use.

"Okay, so for soulmist making the ingredients are relatively simple. At least three foods of different sources, so you couldn't say use milk from a cow and cheese from a cow since that is one source. You can also use more than three, but it must be at least three. You then mix and crush this up into a pulp or paste, and then mix in some blood. Usually your own for best results."

As he spoke Moritz choose a few items, adding them into the bowl one at a time and inspecting them. A few pieces of pineapple that would mash well. Some of the hummus. The green pepper which would be a bit harder to mush but would be a bit more solid than the other items to help with consistency. He also added in cuttings of blue berries for a bit of sweetness. Overall it would be an odd mix of flavors, but he hoped they would interact and mix well. Taking the pestle he began to grind the items within, something that would take a decent bit of time to get a nice fine mix and pulped nature to all of the items.

"Then in order to use the magic on it to turn it into soulmist, it must stay inside your body while you change it. I generally just hold it in my mouth and chew it for awhile, but I think others have been known to do it other ways."

Opening the cloth Moritz looked at the blade, a nice small one with a single edge. Focusing back on his task he kept on grinding and pulping.

"Once you have the food mixed and made into a paste, and the blood is mixed in, you just put it in your mouth or like and... Well this is the part that is a bit harder to explain, though perhaps easier for someone who knows magic. And then you focus on changing the mix into soulmist by will and mind. Perhaps easier once you've seen it like I have an idea of the end goal. My mother had a specific visualization she showed me, of picturing the mix as a part of you, and then severing it to make it distinct again, but I think that might have just been her way. Anyways you'll know when you have succeeded as it will turn into... Well the best I can explain its a sort of not quite white, sort of glowy... Somewhat solid, somewhat liquid or gel like... Stuff. Its also somewhat cool to the touch, so all in all similar in many ways to a ghost itself. It is basically an artificial version of the thing they naturally create and coat their soul in so as to act and interact with the world, so it makes sense it would be similar. Though admittedly it doesn't last as long as theirs, and mine decays pretty fast."

Thinking over things Moritz tried to recall if there was anything else to say, before continuing.

"Also once its made, you have to give permission for a ghost to take it in. But once given, that right cannot be revoked."

With his talking done Moritz chose a spot on the side of his arm, far from any main points where it would bleed to much, and clenched his mouth as he made a small and shallow cut with the blade. Holding the spot over the bowl of pulped food Moritz let the wound drip a bit into the bowl, keeping going till a fair number of droplets were inside the bowl before holding the clean clothe against the small wound.

Using his free hand not holding his wound Moritz mixed the ingredients some more until the blood was well mixed in, before taking up a good chunk and popping it into his mouth.

With that done Moritz then focused his mind, mentally imagining the material in his mouth. Only now he pictured that was a seed from a tree, and he was placing the seed back inside the tree and letting them mix... He pictured this over and over, visualizing the colors of the tree and the colors of the food mix and mesh, willing them to become one on their way to becoming the off white material of soulmist.

WC: 1,455

[Alric Lysane]

He listened as Moritz talked about Spiritism, his memory slinking back to that day he had been walking the Dust Bed Ridge, not quite to the gates of the ancient graveyard, on his quest for the Okomo’s mother, no less. He had yet to see her again, she had vanished and not kept their meeting as arranged. Perhaps she was simply indisposed, but it was also possible the whole thing had been some elaborate way of having fun at the expense of a poorly educated Sunberthian. Smiling slightly, he wondered what Madeira would think of him now, should they ever meet again, and she learn the truths he had learned.

“I was attacked by a ghost once…or at least I’m pretty sure it was a ghost. Didn’t have a solid form…was a sort of, grey cloud? Threw rocks at me, small ones. Was looking into Craven buried in Sunberth. It tried to…enter me? Some sort of battle of wills, felt like I’d been dipped in icy water…ran all the way back to the city after that, never went back” he shared, wondering if Moritz might have his own thoughts upon the matter, seeing as he knew more about such things than Alric did, it seemed.

He didn’t have to wait long to get a quick, if direct, lesson upon ghosts in general. As was usual with Moritz when he found a subject he knew, and that he liked, he had words pouring from him. Alric didn’t mind, he liked to learn new things, and everyone had their own particular idiosyncrasies. The corners of his lips curled up as he leaned back, taking it in and watching Moritz carefully as he spoke. He raised an eyebrow at the fact he discussed an afternoon with a ghost as if it were similar to the afternoon they had spent together. He supposed, to someone like a Craven it might be, though he doubted everyone could be so nonchalant about such things.

“What would a ghost shop for? Do they need clothing and so on?” he asked, curios but mostly seeing if the humour would stick and give the lad pause to laugh, “wait…ghosts get lonely? If they are lonely then why linger on? Couldn’t they just…I don’t know…die properly?”

In truth he wasn’t sure why he asked that question, it certainly sounded slightly callous after what Moritz had said, but he meant no offense by it. It was more that the idea of a ghost being lonely seemed somewhat self-defeating. As far as he knew ghosts were solitary things, usually malevolent in nature but almost always alone. It was the point of a ghost haunting. Or, rather, he reflected that that was what the Sunberthian creed might say upon such things. Such received wisdom had been proven to be quite shallow to him, so he supposed the same might be said for ghosts also, though he had never considered it up until now.

Regardless he watched Moritz work, grinding and cutting, then grinding again. Pouring in the liquid items and then grinding some more. It didn’t look appetizing once he was finished mixing it all, in fact Alric thought it must taste quite terrible indeed, wincing slightly as he felt his taste buds rebel when Moritz put some of the concoction into his mouth. It sounded somewhat like Shielding, in the sense that you had to mentally will something to change, transform and then mould into what you wanted it to be. He found himself wondering if all magics shared base principles of Djed transference, suspecting that it was probably so, and that that was why most magics had been developed using such concepts as their backbone.

“So…the Djed of the stuff changes instead of your own Djed…that’s…familiar, yet strangely weird as well. Affecting the external, even if held within yourself briefly, rather than the internal. Interesting” he mused aloud, watching Moritz and waiting for him to finish his demonstration.

[Moritz Craven]

His mouth full, Moritz could listen be he could not speak very well. Trying to concentrate as he was though he was not overly focused on listening at the moment, as it did for now take a considerable amount of his mental focus and effort to properly envision the process and get it to work.

He also kept a general awareness of the material in his mouth, waiting for that telltale change of sensation. Temperature, texture, feel, all could tell that the conversion had occurred properly and he had achieved his goal. He certainly felt more able than his first try, but it still often took him awhile to get it right. As it was he silently chewed on the food for several chimes before he felt the right mental shift, all the while focusing on the mental image of the imagined food pulp in his mouth shifting state...

From gunk to soulmist... From a seed in a tree... To a part of a tree... And washing each djed's "color" mixing over and over until they were the same... He pictured each ripple and wave of this color overlapping with the action of slowly shifting it into soulmist, imagining both things at once. Sort of like, he felt, slowly shifting from red to white by subtly shifting the shade one notch at a time or by adding more white into the mix until it was the new color...

Finally he focused on a blade, and pictured it slicing downward, the newly colored seed that was now of the same djed as the tree being cut off and plucked out.

He was unsure when exactly it happened, the entire thing being so gradual, but after a fair number of chimes he felt a bit of coldness in his mouth.

Spitting the material out of his mouth into a fresh clean bowl instead of spewing out a pulp of food what came out was soulmist... Or at least, close enough to be called soulmist if only of the basest most unrefined variety. Certainly not as refined as the soulmist a master like his mother made which could hardly be told apart from the real thing, but changed enough to be considered wholly natural stuff. A bit of a glow if only faintly. A bit cooler than normal, particularly considering it had been in Moritz mouth. It also didn't appear quite the same as before. Where before the processing and refining it had been a puree or pulp, now it was something not quite a gas and not quite a liquid or solid, something in between almost.

Chewing on a bit of fresh food to clean out his mouth of the odd taste Moritz moved the food around before chewing and swallowing, his jaw a bit sore from the repeated motion of chewing without swallowing for so long.

Now freed of things in his mouth Moritz gestured at the substance in the bowl, giving Alric a chance to look at, touch, or otherwise inspect it.

"There you go, soulmist. Feel free to examine it however you wish. I don't see any ghosts around to give it to, so it'll probably just be thrown out and left to decay out of usefulness quickly enough, so do whatever you want to it. It probably wont even last the day, as I said I'm pretty new at making it. At best I'd think maybe a few days... My mothers is strong enough that once its used the effect lasts, but I'm no where near there."

"Attacked by a ghost eh? Must not have been too malicious nor powerful then, from what you said. Not if it let you leave and didn't do more or say permanently haunt you. A ghost can use their soulmist to do things, including interacting with physical things. So throwing rocks would be possible, even for a weak ghost small rocks wouldn't be too hard. That is one of the reasons for needing soulmist, to heal and replenish them after expending it on things like that. Though if you as someone untrained in Spiritism were able to fight off its possession, it had to be a pretty weak ghost. So either new and unskilled, or weakened severely when you ran into it... Though if it was strong but in a weakened state, and wasn't trapped somehow where it was when you left, and it really wanted to harm or follow you, then it probably would have just bade its time till it was strong again... So... Probably just a general weak ghost, if it let you be like that."

At the questions on ghosts and shopping Moritz shook his head, trying to explain.

"The ghost shopped with my body, while possessing me, but the things were for me. Ghosts don't need things. She just possessed me for... I suppose the experience, of buying the shoes. To be able to feel and do the actions again with a physical form. Normally a ghost can't do those things, since they don't have a body. And its not quite the same, without one."

At the question on ghosts and lingering Moritz let out a sigh, feeling for a moment a bit sad...

"I think the fact that you and I don't understand it, why they cling as they do, is probably a good thing. A ghost is not a normal thing. Dira cares for them, but wishes for them to pass on. A ghost... In order to exist, they must cling to a semblance of living. The fact that they cannot let go, cannot move on, is what lets them be... Well ghosts. So it'd make sense that they would all have their reasons for being around still. They used to be people, so they can still feel things. Why couldn't they be lonely? To want things."

"That feeling, that driving need to exist, is what holds them as they are. The goal of a proper spiritist is to help them let go and move on. Maybe they want to make a friend... Or see their loved ones avenged... To see a certain person die, or to make sure a house they loved isn't besmirched. I suppose a ghosts reasons for living are as endless as the things that drive you and I and other people. Though I suppose it takes a certain type of person to do it, to live on in a half state after they die."

At Alric's questions and comments on his work Moritz paused again, considering his words, wondering on how to explain...

"Yes, external Djed not your own, that would be how it works. Spiritism certainly isn't personal magic, where it uses your own Djed and directly drains you. In some ways I suppose that means its freer, less dangerous, while also having its own dangers different from a personal magic."

Once their talking was done Moritz wiped his mouth, polishing off some more food before letting out a sigh. After his exertions of the day he was quite hungry, and had managed to eat quite a bit of the food provided by himself after he was done making soulmist.

"Well, I should probably get back home before too long... Though perhaps we could meet up again sometime and talk and things? Perhaps even plan a time? Maybe next season? I've been away for awhile, so should probably get back to Syka..."

"I'll be a year older by then, my birthday is the first of spring."

WC: 1,247

[Alric Lysane]

Alric leaned forward to inspect what Moritz had created, curios as to its consistency and colouring but still making sure to not touch it. He no longer feared magic but that didn’t mean he interacted with it outside of the context of his own body. Still he nodded his appreciation for the creation at Moritz and took a good long while studying it. It was a misty white in colour, almost silvery perhaps, and it definitely possessed a thickness to it that went beyond water. It had a slight glow to it and, when he dipped a finger close to it, he could feel a slight chill that reminded him of that time upon the Dust Bed Ridge.

“You might be right,” he conceded at the talk of ghosts and their strengths, “or perhaps it just wanted me away from the graves I was investigating. You’d know more about that than I would, I tend to stay away from the dead…where possible. I like the idea of not being haunted…not that the living can’t do much the same to you anyway” he said with a sad smile this time, looking into the middle distance as his own problems flickered in his mind for a few moments.

“I can’t say that I’d be brave enough to let a ghost take over my body,” he shuddered, that dark feeling creeping upon him, as in his nightmares when he was taken over by his nemesis despite how he resisted, “no one ever will. I won’t be a puppet for some…thing. But you have the magic for it, so perhaps you have more control over the thing” he conceded eventually, once his own hard words for himself had faded.

“As for their lingering…I have been reliably informed that we each control our destinies. But I am not so sure anymore…I think our lives are…woven in with the lives of others…ghosts might be some form of proof for that. Tattered remnants of lives ripped apart, devoid of links physically…but emotionally...perhaps they still feel linked to things unresolved as you suggest. Perhaps you should do what you’ve been trained to do, find them and deliver them to…whatever comes after”

He spent a few chimes reflecting upon that, knowing that, even if they met infrequently and their time together was brief, there was still a connection that tied Taz and himself together there. There were others too, a handful of souls whom seemed so removed and individual at first but when he thought upon it, he did wonder at times whether, beneath the veil of reality, there were little strings that tied them together too. He hoped, for many reasons, that if they did exist that they did not draw them into danger alongside him. He’d hate to see others hurt on his behalf.

“But you are right…we have lingered a while tougher and no doubt you have important business to attend to. My birthday is also in Spring…though not on the 1st…the anniversary of the Valterrian…you are either lucky or not…not sure which,” he chuckled and looked at the man a few moments longer before pushing himself up to his feet, “you can come find me next season. I’m not sure about the first…it’s a festival date in Sunberth and I’ll probably be needed to make sure people don’t get rowdy and burn down where I work. How about the day after? Meet here midday and see where the day takes us. I can get you a birthday present, perhaps”

With that their meeting was concluded and with one last nod for the Kelvic he was stepping back into the flowing crowds and out of site within a moment or two, lost to the Outpost…which these days was just how he liked it.