Solo To Try For Old Bones

[Alric Lysane]

35th Fall 521 AV - Dust Bed Alric was feeling somewhat chastened and embarrassed about his last visit to the Dust Beds, he had fled like a scared child and he wasn’t sure why. Once he had got home and reflected he had reasoned it was due to tiredness but deep down he knew that the stories of dark monsters, ghosts and worse had been playing in the back of his mind so strongly that he had merely panicked. He was stepping through the gates of the lower Dust Bed once more and this time he was prepared, he wasn’t leaving without an answer – even if he had to talk Jebediah’s ear off. He didn’t relish the idea of probably having to head to the Dust Bed Ridge eventually but that’s what it took to earn gold and prosperity. Not to mention to earn some pride back. Tazrae head into the jungle to search for a gate to another world. If she can do that then I can walk into a damned graveyard he told himself, knowing that at least he was somewhat better prepared than most thanks to Madeira. As he entered he could see that the strange grave keeper was nowhere to be seen and so for now decided to tour his previously investigated area to see if anything had been missed – it was possible after all. He trusted his eyes, he had excellent vision and they were blue, but he was new to investigation. It took him less time on the second go around to investigate the graves – the ones that were there at any rate. The grid system was still fresh in his mind and it seemed a decent way to pass a bell or so. After the follow up circuit he had come away with no different conclusions – Jebediah and the Dust Bed Ridge were his best bests in terms of physical evidence. “And I’d need physical evidence that’s for sure,” he said to himself as he approached the beginning on the ascent steps, “I doubt Madeira will pay without me even seeing something with my own eyes to corroborate her stories. And curiosity” His own curiosity also, he had to admit. After his fateful meeting with the guardian of Syka he had begun to accept, as well as see, his growing curiosity for all things mysterious and old for what it may potentially be – a calling. He was not yet sure of course but he was willing to open himself up to the experience and that meant that he had to show something he wasn’t sure he had shown for a long time – courage. He didn’t think it came naturally to him despite the faith some had shown in him over the seasons. He was willing to try though as he stopped and looked up. The Ridge was a dangerous place and courage didn’t mean suicidal, his eyes moved this way and that, watching the edge of all of the ridges he could see on the ascent for any activity. He didn’t want to end up fighting any wolves this day, he wanted to hopefully be in and out without incident – from either wolves or spirits. His hand gripped the handle of the broadsword he had been given and patted his pouches to make sure all was in order. He sighed and pulled his cloak tight about him. “Back again are ye lad? Thought you’d be running for days” came the voice of Jebediah almost directly in his ear. Though he felt like his heart jumped out through his throat and ran down the hills he remained still and took a few deep breaths to centre himself, imagining the flame Moritz had spoken of to try to keep his mind steady. He failed after a brief, few seconds but it was enough to recover from surprise well meant. “I had to,” he said as he turned to look the taller man in the eyes, “there is no other way to find out what needs to be found” “Fixing to rob some graves eh? You’ll be in one lad…soon enough” “No, I don’t want to rob anything. I just want answers” “Keep coming here and keep leaving empty, best leave dead things lie” “This is a different question. Besides I can’t and you know it well enough. You’ve spoken riddles around me since our first meeting…until last time. Now I want that answer” “Gave you the answer already, luck you lad don’t give many. But you been here lots and never once disrespected…few like that. Most don’t do it more than once” “I need to see or they won’t believe. They don’t believe…they don’t pay” “Pay? PAY?! So you do want the graves!” Jebediah raised his shovel threateningly. “No!” he shouted back in frustration and there was a sudden wind that almost blew them sideways and he had to dig in his heels against it. He almost fled again right then and there, superstitions rising high at the intervention of nature, stopping his legs from moving requiring real effort as the wind died down and he stepped back from Jebediah who was now cocking his head to one side, eyes wild as if he were listening to something demented in the silence that only he could hear. “Oooooh, don’t want you gone just yet lad, not today. Maybe tomorrow. Dira has spoken…but you won’t find what you want here either lad. Name was old but no longer here, gone to the city of sun’s birth for a long long long long time” “But you said tha-“ “Knows what I said lad but you don’t knows what you said” “So there is a grave or there isn’t” “No grave” “But then how’d you know the name?” “Don’t say it!” “Fine I wont but how did you kn-“ “Stones speak lad, stones speak…and they don’t like. Restless are the spirits, going here and there. Everywhere,” then Jebediah looked at him directly, a serious look this time and dark, “won’t stop you going up up up…never stop. But disturb the dead and you won’t leave…never leave” With that the grave keeper seemed to lose interest in Alric and he frowned at his back, hearing him cackling and start whistling as he got further away, Alric wishing for the first time in a long time that he could just throw something at someone. He didn’t know why the man couldn’t just give him a straight answer. He must have been capable of it, he reasoned, or he’d never be able to do any business. Perhaps his workers do it for him? he sighed to himself as his anger abated and he felt nothing but a dull, cold stillness in his chest as he turned and looked up once more.

[Alric Lysane]

He began the long climb with little taste for where he was going but the growing tingle within at the idea of discovering things that had perhaps been forgotten by almost all of the citizens of the anarchic city below. There was a certain thrill to it, he reasoned as he crept along, knowing that he might stumble over secrets lost or knowledge forgotten. Not that he expected anything really, he was only wanting a name to materialise. He wasn’t going to be sticking around for a long or detail investigation. Despite the gold on offer he knew he wasn’t able to do that, he was an amateur and so if Madeira wanted more she’d have to wait until he was more skilled. Not to mention more courageous he noted to himself honestly as he went. It was a slow process as he both climbed the ascent but also tried to be as quiet and unseen as possible. There were dangers here, he knew, even on the path. Largely wolves but he had walked the path before a few times in his search for his parents and had found that a soft step and cautious eye did more than any weapon at his side might do. So he stepped slowly, deliberately and on his toes. His calves started to burn halfway up and his lower back started to complain soon after from the constant bending over to stay as low to the ground as possible. No doubt he looked ridiculous from a distance but he’d rather look foolish and get through unscathed than take no care and end up in a situation he regretted. He kept up his stealthy stance as best he could though he tired quickly and it started to become more loose, his steps crunching more often upon stones carelessly trodden upon. Each time he made more noise than he was comfortable with he paused, crouched down all the way to the floor and listened, watched the rippling tufts of grass here and there and the dust whipping in the wind and trying to scour his skin. After a few chimes of nothing happening he’d continue on his way. Another noise would happen a handful of chimes later and the ritual would be repeated. He had to keep pulling his cloak around him to stop it being taken by the wind as its speed and noise increased as altitude went up. After a while during the gusts it was difficult to hear much beyond the wind so he felt sure his sound was hidden but he still tried to stay out of sight. Bushes and tree trunks dotted here and there were a useful oasis to hunker behind for an extended break but mostly it was just Alric, the path, the wind and the dust. He felt like his tongue was covered with it by the time he came to the first set of older tombs. They were not the oldest by far he knew – that honour went to the ones in the sectioned off mausoleum area proper – no on the outskirts there were clumps of them where they were either not important enough or wouldn’t fit into the rest further along the path. I wonder which one it is? Or whether before the Valterrian and its destruction this whole area was graves but they got crumbled away to sink below with everything else? he wondered to himself, shuddering at the thought as he studies the graves. They were more elaborate than the ones below – all of them weathered stone of a kind he wasn’t familiar with. The names were still there, though faint. He stepped in quickly, eyes darting this way and that, to trace his fingers over them and found they were not the one he was after – Craven. He retreated quickly and peered up the path – he was just over half way. He could see a few more clumps of graves before the main area and he hoped the name he was looking for was upon them. He pressed onwards, crouching once more for a while and noticing nothing, counting to ten before moving on.

[Alric Lysane]

He kept his eyes open as he went but he had no encounters with anything dangerous as far as he could tell and if anything were trailing him he hadn’t seen it. He kept looking forward and back along the path each time he crouched down but the only things that entered his gaze was nothingness. He made it to the next small collection of exterior graves upon the path and walked up to them, studying them as he approached. They were weathered the same way as the first set had been but they seemed to have stood the test of time better, their edges slightly sharper. He could even make out a little bit of carving, some sort of styled column perhaps on the corners. He gingerly stepped closer, really hoping he wasn’t stepping on anyone of old and keeping his footsteps light out of both respect and fear just in case. His fingers made a tracing pattern but he refrained from actually touching anything, he didn’t want to invoke any spirits. Despite his newly found – and very shaky courage – he wasn’t looking for an incident and he could feel his breath catch at every sound as if it were expecting something to happen. His heart was pounding he knew. Such old things in such a sunken city, standing the test of time better than what lies below…when did we stop building in stone I wonder? Was it stubborn pride or just fear for mining it out? Could we even hope to equal this craftmanship…which I’m sure is rough compared to the older and more grand places? he wondered to himself as he looked for the names and found nothing of the one he was searching for. There was the sound of bushes snapping and he turned to see that along the path came a low figure. He cursed his poor luck and quickly slipped behind the large stone construction, keeping to the corner so he could peer around and be ready if something terrible was about to happen to him. He could try to run at least. After a few chimes the shape of a wolf padded into view, looking as if it were sniffing for something. The wind was harsh and disruptive so Alric held his breath and hoped his scent was dispersed enough to not leave a direct path to him. He held his breath for so long, staying stock still, with barely half an eye peeking around the stone edge, he felt his chest start burning and demand for air. He held on regardless, watching the wolf sniff and snuffle around, circling a few times before its head sways this way and that. There was a gruff throaty sound and after a few more moments it padded off and Alric carefully, slowly, let out his breath and breathed deeply in through his nose. He could feel his heart in his ears but he dared not move just yet. His caution proved wise at the wolf returned once more a couple of chimes later, clearly retracing and trying its own luck. Alric stayed where he was and the wold performed the same routine, albeit quicker, and ran off at a higher speed this time towards the lower graveyard. He felt sure Jebediah would deal with it promptly. He stayed hiding even so for another ten chimes by his count before slowly creeping out and looking up and down the path – he saw nothing and breathed a sigh of relief. It was time to move on he saw, there were perhaps two more collections of graves to try his luck on before the upper graveyard proper. He hoped his luck was better. Secret : Wolf Detection roll: Alric Lysane — Today at 5:44 AM !roll 1d100 Dice Maiden BOT — Today at 5:44 AM Alric Lysane Roll: [20] Result: 20 Alric Hide Roll: !roll 1d100+10 Dice Maiden BOT — Today at 5:46 AM Alric Lysane Roll: [22] Result: 32

[Alric Lysane]

It was a longer creep than he had expected at the beginning, slower in his attempts to stay low and pass undetected. So far, despite the odd event, he had remained as such and he was happy with that. In the back of his mind, however, he knew that the hardest part was yet to come. Yet he forged onwards with stubborn determination, he had made a bargain and in his line of work reputation and his word were pretty much all he had to rest upon. He would be damned, ghosts and magic aside, if he would be spoken of as one who did not live up to his promises. His jaw was set a bit harder than usual, teeth gritted against the cols of both the elements and fear. At the next collection of burials he took slightly longer, lingering around the larger and older stone to cut himself out of the wind for at least a little while – as long as he dared at least. He found little of what he was looking for at the second to last island of graves he had seen on the path, he had one last grouping left before the older and more dangerous parts of the graveyard. Not yet in what the city called the Dust Bed Ridge he hoped he would not have to venture into it properly. He sighed and trudged his slow, crouched and laborious way to the last collection. Stepping into the site he noticed that this was larger and grander than the other ones. He supposed that it made sense given its proximity to the larger proper site further along the path. The closer he was getting the grander it all seemed, putting any modern Sunberthian graves to shame, and telling a tale of having fallen from more opulent times and priorities. None cared for the dead these days beyond Jebediah and his staff. Most bodies didn’t even make it to the Dust Bed and even those that did hardly had thousands of gold to create their own mausoleum in their deaths. How times change and things are forgotten. I know that well, though whether remembering would be for better or worse in the long run…that no one can say I think he thought to himself, cast his memory back a bit before returning his attention to the present. He approached the smaller stones first, dome topped rectangles of corroded and chipped stone. It seemed like a harder stone as the words were mostly legible despite the damage – more legible than those he had seen so far at any rate. The names weren’t familiar and so he moved one, careful of where he stepped and not touching anything. The middle sized graves were once more bereft of useful names, at least for his current purposes. The last one though, his breath sharply entered his lungs when he saw it, blinking a few times in case he were misreading…it still returned the same name. “Daedalus Craven….so you are here indeed. No other names though…a pity. Or…is this more than one grave? It seems large enough for more than one” he muttered to himself. He stood for some time taking in the square building, it might have been large enough for a few bodies but hardly a whole lineage. No, the rest must have been inside the actual Dust Bed Ridge graveyard – his next destination. Perhaps, he reasoned, this was a spill over thing more hastily built or there had been unexpected deaths and few left to build something grander. He didn’t know but he knew one thing – Madeira had been right, there were Craven laying in Sunberth. That alone would buy him riches he hadn’t thought he’d ever have but more than that…this was unknown and lost history. A thread to pull upon one day perhaps. There was the familiar tingling he felt at curious and new knowledge, adventure and discovery. “Hello Craven…I’m sure your ancestors will love to know you exist for true” he whispered. A wind began whipping up from nowhere and he took a few steps back, startled, looking this way and that but seeing nothing. He stepped back further, his fear starting to play at him as he wrestled with it and told himself there was nothing there. Secret : Roll to see if anything of note found: Alric Lysane — 11/24/2021 !roll 1d100 Dice Maiden BOT — 11/24/2021 Alric Lysane Roll: [71] Result: 71 Over 50 by a decent margin - name found and nothing else for story purposes

[Alric Lysane]

His hollow words were proven as such within a few chimes as the wind continued to whip, seemingly focusing upon him. He kept stepping back slowly, eyes darting everywhere but seeing nothing. A small crack into his shoulder startled him and he all but jumped out of his skin, Something hit his foot and he looked down, it was a very small pebble. It had hit him hard enough to cause bruising he thought but it wasn’t a deadly blow. A flicker came from his right and he moved his head just in time to only get a glancing blow to the side of his head. His hand slapped at his head and felt a small damp patch, a sharp edge clearly having clipped him. He shook his head to clear the momentary swimming of his vision and when it cleared he dove to his left and went into an awkward, last minute roll like Moritz had shown him, shoulder rolling onto hip and coming up to his feet somewhat shakily. He had just avoided a slightly larger pebble and his gaze searched for anymore. He caught a flash by the tomb and for a moment couldn’t make out what it was, when he did his heart dropped through his stomach and he felt his skin had surely become quite pale. “Oh….shkye” was all he could get out as what was clearly some sort of spirit – though rough shaped and rippling as if it had no true substance to it – seemed to float forwards. It brought with it a collection of other small projectiles. They started to move and it was all he could do for a few chimes to dance around them, jumping this way and that, some slow enough to bat away with his palm but most he just dove out of the way of. He thought he heard a melodious laugh as he was forced to dance on the spot when several came for his feet. That made it worse and the hairs stood up on his neck so quickly his courage started to fail him. Not that he had much time as the thing rushed at him and he had a moment of pure, horrifying panic just before it entered him. He fell, hitting the ground hard and rolling around as he felt the alien presence start flooding through him like he had been dumped into icy water. Fingers moved against his will before he balled his fists and took back control. Not for long though, there was a battle going on with something and it was all he could do to stop falling prey to a panic that would surely lose him the battle. Instead he found a deep, bright ember of rage. “How dare you! Get! Out!” he managed to shout, or he thought he had but it came out with less power and with grater effort as if he were shouting through a wall, dulled in its audibility. He was aware and unaware of rolling around now, he was trying with all of his mental might to imagine expelling the damned spirit back into its stupid crypt. There was a wavering in its will, he felt it as surely as if they were arm wrestling and he mustered his anger, fear and need for survival and threw it mentally like a javelin, slamming it into the spirit. There was a momentary acceptance, an attempt to hold the line and then it was sent spewing forth from him and he rolled away, shaking and coughing as if it had tried to drown him. Chilled to the bone and with only one thought able to properly form. Get away He had less strength than before but sheer desperation forced his arms to push him up and his shaky legs to stand firm, pumping him though they felt distant and numbed, gaining distance and heading back down the path. After a while warmth started to creep back but he stumbled many times along the way, rolling and flailing as he went until he was back down in the lower graveyard, making it to the gates. He stumbled and his shoulder clipped the exit, spinning him around and sending him sprawling. He scrambled, panic lending him energy for now, and kept running until his chest heaved and he could not run any further. Finding a dark nook he slumped into it and curled up into a cold ball, cloak pulled around him as he rocked back and forth without even realising. “N-n-n-n-nnno…mm-re….gr-gr-grrrra-ves” he said to himself with chattering teeth before falling silent and hoping he could soon begin to make his way home to a warm fire and his bed. He had found what he needed though he had found something that would no doubt given him nightmares for seasons to come too. He was not sure it was worth it. Secret : Roll for ghost possession: Alric Lysane — Today at 12:47 PM !roll 1d100 Dice Maiden BOT — Today at 12:47 PM Alric Lysane Roll: [57] Result: 57 Resolve Roll for Alric: Alric Lysane — Today at 12:48 PM !roll 1d100+26 Dice Maiden BOT — Today at 12:48 PM Alric Lysane Roll: [69] Result: 95

[Alric Lysane]

Your Grades Alric Lysane Skills Acrobatics - 1 Interrogation – 1 Investigation - 3 Observation – 3 Running - 1 Stealth - 3 Lores Dust Bed: Daedalus Craven’s Grave Ghost: Can Throw Stones Ghost: Resisting Possession Graves: Dangerous Spirits Within Knowledge: Recovering The Past Stealth: Holding Breath Sunberth: A Past Worth Searching Sunberth: Disdain For The Dead