Winter 43, 511 AVIf this doesn’t work for ya let me know
Flour, water, cheese, and Ichor the basis of the substance called soulmist. Last season Sunberth was assaulted by numerous ghosts and the town was not well prepared for such an attack. Even Ray did not have the skill to counter them. He was, for the most part, helpless, and he did not like that feeling. No, he did not want to feel that way ever again. Sunberth, so far, has been a most humbling experience, but it also served to drive him in new directions, to better prepare and educate himself. If power came to those who were worthy then he would surely extend his own reach once more and gain the power that so eluded him. He would rise to Sunberths challenge because he was no longer in the safe halls of Sahova. Sunberth was a different breed.
It was the rising to this challenge which brought Ray to this graveyard, the newfound sword at his side. It was the same place he had ventured to during the ghost attack. It brought back less than found memories of wolves though today he found no such evidence of the creatures. That was good. Rising the challenge. Today he would study more on the art of spiritism and try to run into a ghost which would accept his soulmist. It was going to be practice, and ghost hunting aside it would keep him away from the dangerous streets of Sunberth. Alongside him strode his second experiment H2-A, who had been walking calmly by him like any good and trained dog would. H2-A was special though, more so than other animals. He was a product of Alchemy, a mixture of lizards and a dog. The dog with scales instead of fur. On his robed shoulder rode, as usual, H1-A the lizard with fur instead of scales. Together, he thought, the two experiments made an odd pair to an increasingly odd collection of pseudo-animals, one of a kind creation’s from the mind of the Alchemist.
Not quite to the ridge yet the nuit chose a spot in the cemetery to sit and concentrate. Finding his spot the wizard kneeled down, taking the pack from his back and setting it in front of him. The pack contained all the necessary ingredients for soulmist production including a vile of his own ichor nicely prepared earlier today. He had been planning this extrusion for a while now; it would be silly to even think about coming unprepared. No, the nuit liked to be as prepared as possible in all situations. He even has his sword to back up that fact. Not that he is any good with it, but he can use it when the situation calls for it.
As the nuit got situated H2-A laid by his master, and H1-A jumped from his perch on the alchemists shoulder and landed on the dogs back. The two oddly got along rather well. Once planted the furry lizard made itself comfortable on the dog. They were the keys to his research into life. He was close, but yet so far. For now though he needed to concentrate.
Taking the cheese from the bag he broke off pieces and started chewing. Once it was broken down enough he added the flour, bitter stuff, and took a swig of the water. Mixing them around in his mouth he took a moment to clear his mind. All the thoughts of alchemy, of life, of what he was doing here, hopes of what he wanted to do, plans, everything needed to go in favor of a more focused thought. He wanted soulmist, and the more he concentrated the better quality the mist would be. The ‘better’ quality it is, even though he is a novice, the better a stance he would have against any ghosts he would come into contact with.
Mixing the substance around in his mouth rotting teeth grinding and mishing and mashing everything together. He popped the stopper out of the vial and put it to his mouth. Adding the ichor completed what he needed to make soulmist. Now all he needed to do is focus and concentrate on what he wanted to accomplish. He wanted to create soulmist. He repeated ‘Soulmist’ in his mind over and over and over again in his mind. He repeated it like a mantra, helping him further focus on his meditation to create the substance. Soulmist, the one word embellished all he wanted to accomplish. Slowly he could feel the concoction changing by his sheer will. It was not time to falter, just like what he would do in alchemy when he felt change, he would concentrate even harder on what he wanted. Nothing was going to interrupt this process. He was in his own little world now.
Feeling what he wanted accomplished done, the soulmist was created, he stopped thinking of the singular goal, slowly coming back to reality. He bent over his pack which he brought with him and spat the white gooey and slightly glowing substance into the bag. He had done it, it was soulmist. The substance drained from his mouth like it would when he was transferring bodies. Perhaps it was practice or maybe it was out of sheer habit that the soulmist did it just like his ichor. Interesting nonetheless. Now all he had to do was find a ghost, oh the fun was just beginning.
Flour, water, cheese, and Ichor the basis of the substance called soulmist. Last season Sunberth was assaulted by numerous ghosts and the town was not well prepared for such an attack. Even Ray did not have the skill to counter them. He was, for the most part, helpless, and he did not like that feeling. No, he did not want to feel that way ever again. Sunberth, so far, has been a most humbling experience, but it also served to drive him in new directions, to better prepare and educate himself. If power came to those who were worthy then he would surely extend his own reach once more and gain the power that so eluded him. He would rise to Sunberths challenge because he was no longer in the safe halls of Sahova. Sunberth was a different breed.
It was the rising to this challenge which brought Ray to this graveyard, the newfound sword at his side. It was the same place he had ventured to during the ghost attack. It brought back less than found memories of wolves though today he found no such evidence of the creatures. That was good. Rising the challenge. Today he would study more on the art of spiritism and try to run into a ghost which would accept his soulmist. It was going to be practice, and ghost hunting aside it would keep him away from the dangerous streets of Sunberth. Alongside him strode his second experiment H2-A, who had been walking calmly by him like any good and trained dog would. H2-A was special though, more so than other animals. He was a product of Alchemy, a mixture of lizards and a dog. The dog with scales instead of fur. On his robed shoulder rode, as usual, H1-A the lizard with fur instead of scales. Together, he thought, the two experiments made an odd pair to an increasingly odd collection of pseudo-animals, one of a kind creation’s from the mind of the Alchemist.
Not quite to the ridge yet the nuit chose a spot in the cemetery to sit and concentrate. Finding his spot the wizard kneeled down, taking the pack from his back and setting it in front of him. The pack contained all the necessary ingredients for soulmist production including a vile of his own ichor nicely prepared earlier today. He had been planning this extrusion for a while now; it would be silly to even think about coming unprepared. No, the nuit liked to be as prepared as possible in all situations. He even has his sword to back up that fact. Not that he is any good with it, but he can use it when the situation calls for it.
As the nuit got situated H2-A laid by his master, and H1-A jumped from his perch on the alchemists shoulder and landed on the dogs back. The two oddly got along rather well. Once planted the furry lizard made itself comfortable on the dog. They were the keys to his research into life. He was close, but yet so far. For now though he needed to concentrate.
Taking the cheese from the bag he broke off pieces and started chewing. Once it was broken down enough he added the flour, bitter stuff, and took a swig of the water. Mixing them around in his mouth he took a moment to clear his mind. All the thoughts of alchemy, of life, of what he was doing here, hopes of what he wanted to do, plans, everything needed to go in favor of a more focused thought. He wanted soulmist, and the more he concentrated the better quality the mist would be. The ‘better’ quality it is, even though he is a novice, the better a stance he would have against any ghosts he would come into contact with.
Mixing the substance around in his mouth rotting teeth grinding and mishing and mashing everything together. He popped the stopper out of the vial and put it to his mouth. Adding the ichor completed what he needed to make soulmist. Now all he needed to do is focus and concentrate on what he wanted to accomplish. He wanted to create soulmist. He repeated ‘Soulmist’ in his mind over and over and over again in his mind. He repeated it like a mantra, helping him further focus on his meditation to create the substance. Soulmist, the one word embellished all he wanted to accomplish. Slowly he could feel the concoction changing by his sheer will. It was not time to falter, just like what he would do in alchemy when he felt change, he would concentrate even harder on what he wanted. Nothing was going to interrupt this process. He was in his own little world now.
Feeling what he wanted accomplished done, the soulmist was created, he stopped thinking of the singular goal, slowly coming back to reality. He bent over his pack which he brought with him and spat the white gooey and slightly glowing substance into the bag. He had done it, it was soulmist. The substance drained from his mouth like it would when he was transferring bodies. Perhaps it was practice or maybe it was out of sheer habit that the soulmist did it just like his ichor. Interesting nonetheless. Now all he had to do was find a ghost, oh the fun was just beginning.
