Completed An Unclaimed Dance (Job)

Anja's first job in Zeltiva bring him to help a forlorn couple

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

An Unclaimed Dance (Job)

Postby Anja Nightwatcher on July 28th, 2019, 8:13 pm

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Summer 8th, 519
12th Bell
The Kelp Bar

"I need work," Anja summarized.

The dim lamp light of the Kelp Bar flickered bobbing shadows against the walls. The grungy surroundings would be off-putting for most; cracked, mismatched pieces of furniture, unfriendly stares from grizzled sea workers off the docks. But Anja had been used to it years ago, and it was simple enough to be used to it again. He and Logan had both agreed that it was as good a place as any to have conversations without the worry of interruption or inquisitive listening ears

Anja had tracked down Logan hours ago among a crowd of men from the Martial Society. The reunion had been heralded with shouts and embraces and over time the two had fallen into their familiar, companionable, mutual comfort. Old habits had reasserted themselves, and they had made their way to their old meeting place. Brittle stares had eased when the sailors dotting the bar recognized Logan, and Anja's presence had been quietly tolerated. Logan had bought both himself and Anja a kelp beer and they had settled on rickety seats in the lounge. Over the next few hours, Anja had told Logan everything that had happened during his time in Sunberth. Logan was quiet in his intensity and only rarely interrupted when he needed clarification on a point. After the telling had been completed, Anja's kelp beer remained untouched. Logan made no mention of it.

"Seems like the Homestead situation you're working on with your friends is comfortable," Logan said. The Knight was the same as he had been when Anja had left him a year ago. Calm, quiet, thoughtful and practical. He hadn't changed in the slightest. Anja wondered for a moment if he had. Logan hadn't said anything about it, but it wasn't like him to bring it up. "Do you really need a job in Zeltiva, Anja?" Logan asked, tenting his calloused hands. "Maybe you'd be better off working in the wilds with your friends."

"I'd like to have some mizas to bring home and help out the settlement," Anja replied. "Besides, I can't let my Spiritism go stale. If I'm not helping ghosts then what am I even doing here?"

A shadow crossed Logan's expression and he fixed Anja with one of his trademark, piercing stares. "I haven't had luck with the Nuit yet," he said with a slow shake of his head. "Now that you're back I'll start poking harder. If you make friends in the city we might be able to find a few more leads. You can leverage your magic to that end. I'm sure it'll help your new family out as well." He leaned back in his seat and it let out a treacherous groan. "I've heard whispers of the manor of a young lady that seems to be haunted. Strange noises and lights at odd hours, and she's become very reclusive. But she's been very hush-hush about it. Doesn't want to get the Envoys involved. I wonder why that is?"

Anja chewed his lip in thought, and after a moment shook his head. "I can't imagine…" Anja said.

Logan pushed his elbows against the table and leaned forward with his chin in his hands. "She must have a reason for not wanting help, but maybe your brand of help is exactly what she needs. You should go give her a visit, maybe she'll tell you an interesting story."

(Words 565, Total 565)
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Anja Nightwatcher
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An Unclaimed Dance (Job)

Postby Anja Nightwatcher on July 28th, 2019, 8:14 pm

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The door whispered closed behind him, as Anja stepped out of the shade of the building into Syna's light. Maisa was next to the hitching post with Logan's horse, Vanguard. The two were buried in conversation only they could understand, so the Drykas offered his mare a wave then turned to head down the street. A few steps in, Anja felt Morte's weight as the bird landed on his shoulder.

"You get a lead?" Morte asked. The bird had declined meeting Logan. Anja figured Morte would warm up to his mentor eventually, but there was no need to push it.

"Yep. We're going ghost hunting," Anja replied. Morte let out a pleased cackle, and settled against Anja's neck.

The directions that Logan had given Anja sent him down uneven cobbled streets, whose stonework grew more detailed and polished with every advancing step. Around him the buildings changed from simple stone and wooden structures to branching estates. This area, so Logan told him, was called the Ancient Quarter. It was where everyone who was worth something in this city lived. The terraced mansions and lush rainbows of gardens were certainly evidence that this corner of the city was well loved by the people. Or at least well funded. Perhaps it was the unique architecture of this part of the city, but something about it felt old to Anja. Like each breath of air he took carried the dust of centuries past, ready to whisper secrets.

There wasn't time to ponder the secrets, however, as Anja's steps soon led him to a small manor tucked in the corner of the city. Compared to the extravagant buildings surrounding it on both sides, the home was quaint. Or quaint for a multistoried, massive manor anyways. Anja was pretty sure he had never set foot inside a building as fine as this one before. Steeling his sudden nerves, Anja rapped his knuckles against the door. Morte touched Anja's cheek briefly with the tip of his skull beak. "Call for me if you need me, okay?" Before Anja could protest, Morte had taken off for the roof. A moment after the bird had vanished, the white door in front of Anja creaked open, and a thin man with a long nose peered out at Anja from a crack in the door.

"Yes?" said the man. He was a thin, gaunt, and well dressed elderly gentleman, and looked like all the meat had been sucked out of him and left only bone and gristle in place. In spite of that, there was an air of refined dignity about him that was slightly muddied by a surly curled lip. Anja was suddenly intensely aware of the dust on his clothes and the fact that he smelled rather strongly of horse. Anja cleared his throat to hide his sudden burst of unease. "My name is Anja Nightwatcher," he said. "I am a Spiritist. A friend of mine mentioned you had been having trouble with a ghost." From the stale air drifting from the crack in the door, Anja could swear he heard music. It was like a slow, winding, melancholy waltz. Anja gently touched his Gnosis mark hidden beneath his glove and felt it throb.

(Words 536, Total 1101)
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An Unclaimed Dance (Job)

Postby Anja Nightwatcher on July 28th, 2019, 8:15 pm

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The gaunt man recoiled backwards and for a moment Anja thought that he was going to slam the door in the Eiyon's face. "Are you with the Envoyers?!" The words came from his mouth in a snarl, but there was also a touch of fear in his wide, anxious eyes.

"No no, I'm not with the Envoyers." Anja spoke soothingly with his hands extrnded, and watched the man just barely relax. "I'm just a solitary Spiritist trying to make a living. If you need um...discretion, then I'm just the man you're looking for." Anja watched the man's eyebrows dance up and down as he debated the possibilities. After a moment, he sighed and cracked the door open. "Come in. But if you want to be paid, tell no one what you see here."

Motes of dust played in the beams of light streaming from the cracks in the shuttered windows. The furniture was immaculate, the floors clean and shiny without a speck on them. And yet, there was something old about this place, as if the cleanliness was a mask for the skeletons buried beneath. The place didn't feel wrong, not in the way Sunberth had where every corner was touched by murder. But it felt different all the same. Crossing this threshold was a little bit like entering another world, a place different from where he had been moments before. The air here breathed differently.

"Follow me, Sir," the elderly man said. He was somehow even stranger here. Was it a trick of the light or something else? Shaking his head, Anja followed him. The interior of the manor was strangely quiet. Uneasy, Anja attempted to break the silence. "Who all lives here?" Anja asked.

"Just myself and the Lady," the man replied. Silence once more returned. Anja let out a soft sigh, and turned his focus inward, centering on that well of power in his center. He closed his eyes briefly and when they opened, trails of light decorated the room. Anja saw only three distinct trails. The first he recognized easily enough, seeing as the faint forest green light was currently emanating from the man leading him and pooling behind him as he walked. The second was a vibrant violet, as bright and intense as a field of wildflowers. The third caught Anja's attention the most, for it was a smooth and creamy off-white, decorated with crimson sparks. The majority of the color matched what Anja had seen when he had used Pathfinding to track a ghost before. Anja's eyes traced the paths against the floor, and his tongue clicked against his teeth thoughtfully. There was something about the pattern of these trails that was odd, but the mage couldn't quite put a finger on what that oddness was.

The violet light grew brighter and with more intensity as the two of them wound their way up a grand staircase and towards the upper floor of the manor. The air up here tasted older and more dry, and the song echoed in the distance grew louder. Finally, the man paused at a door and pulled it open, gesturing for Anja to go inside first. Anja felt a strong pull of tension, perhaps a remainder of the anxiety from his days in Sunberth, but Anja pushed forward. His surroundings felt strange and old, but not hostile. As Anja stepped inside of the room the music rose in pitch and volume and a strange scene met the Eiyon's eyes.

(Words 581, Total 1682)
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Anja Nightwatcher
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An Unclaimed Dance (Job)

Postby Anja Nightwatcher on July 28th, 2019, 8:15 pm

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A solitary lamp sat on a table in the center of the room, dim warm light shining in a gentle sphere and casting flickering shadows against the walls. The room was mostly empty. Scuffs against the floor suggested there had once been furniture here that had been taken away, leaving the room devoid of color and voice. Goosebumps rose up against Anja's skin as a cold gust of air swept through the room. Anja's palm throbbed, just once. A man and a woman were dancing inches apart in the glow of the lantern. It was strange, like something from a dream. The two of them spun circles in the lamplight, and when the woman's face turned to face Anja he could see that there were tears in her eyes. Eiyon and woman's eyes met, and she gasped. Instantly, the man vanished. Anja heard the door click behind him, and turned to see the elderly gentleman standing vigilant at the door, face void of emotion.

"An Anja Nightwatcher to see you," the gentleman said. "A Spiritist not associated with the Envoyers."

The shock drained from the woman's face, and the woman knitted herself back together, standing tall. She wiped her eyes against the back of her arm and took a deep, steadying breath. "Sadie Nueller," she said. "Of the Nueller fortune." The woman's pale face was still creased with red under her eyes, but there was pride there that refused to show weakness. Her gaze at Anja was fierce.

"And thank you, sir, for your concerns but we have no need of such a person as you here. We are perfectly happy here, thank you." The woman's words were absolute, but a quiver of uncertainty shivered on the edges of her voice.

"I'm not here to drag him away to the graveyard," Anja said softly. He wondered if the woman could hear the sincerity in his voice. Certainly there was a flicker of uncertainty there, bound up in all that unease. Sadie clenched her jaw and drew herself up again. "Then what could you possibly be doing here?" she said. A quiver in her voice. Only just noticeable.

"My job as a Spiritist is to help ease regrets," Anja said. The air shuddered. A mist was collecting in the shadows beyond the lamplight. "It is my hope," Anja continued. "To find the things that bind ghosts to this world and to help them move to the realm beyond this one."

The woman's lip trembled. She said nothing, paralyzed with indecision. Anja wondered what cruelties she had faced to make her paranoia so great. "I have been told that there are men who can bind ghosts are carry them away," she said. Her voice shook.

"Perhaps there are," Anja said. "But that is not among my skill set. And I would never dream of harming a ghost unless it attempted to harm me."

She looked exhausted, done. How many hours had she struggled over this? Behind her eyes she was struggling to know whether or not she could trust Anja, whether it was worth it. But in the end, her opinion on it didn't matter. The decision was made for her.

"Dear, it's all right." A soft tenor of a voice echoed from the shadows. The music Anja had heard before grew louder. It was gentle, melancholy, weaving. The light in the corner of the room grew brighter, and a figure appeared. A young man, ethereal and white. There were no distinguishing marks on him that Anja could see. He was dressed in fine linen silks and a knee length peacoat. His expression was somber, but lucid.

(Words 605, Total 2287)
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Anja Nightwatcher
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An Unclaimed Dance (Job)

Postby Anja Nightwatcher on July 28th, 2019, 8:16 pm

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"Gregor Nueller," he said, confirming Anja's suspicion. "And before you ask," he added, glancing briefly at his wife. "I perished a month ago. A silly accident, never should have happened. But I was...unable to keep a promise." He looked towards Sadie, and her gaze was bleak. "I missed the wedding night. Our dance. I had hoped that I could make up at least that to Sadie, but…" Gregor moved towards the table and his hand went through the top of it. "It seems I can't even do that much."

"I took his name because it was meant for me!" Sadie said. The rush of emotion all but dared Anja to argue.

Anja smiled at her reassuringly. "I'm not here to argue," Anja told her. "And if a dance is all you need to move on then I think I can help."

Both ghost and woman looked at Anja in a beat of shocked silence.

"Please," said the man, and at the same time the woman said "No…"

The two looked at each other. Anja could only catch the briefest glimpse of the novel told in the pair's eyes. Anja felt almost like an intruder, invading on an intimacy that only they two could understand. He hoped his presence wasn't too jarring, and he waited patiently while the two concluded their silent conversation. There was some conclusion there, and the ghost finally spoke. "Please," he said softly. "I love my wife, but being unable to give her the things she needs is misery. Watching her waste away, locked in this house…"

Anja glimpsed the barest nod from the gentleman behind him.

"Please give us the dance. Let me go." The words were half to Anja, half to Aside. His eyes trailed between the two of them.

The woman hiccuped, her walls breaking down. "I'm not ready for you to go!" she cried out.

"Will you ever be?" the ghost asked.

The woman sobbed into her hands. Anja could feel the empathy building inside him, but feared if he moved to comfort her that she would recoil from him completely. Delicately, Anja reached into his sash and pulled a vial of soulmist out. He held it out towards Sadie.

"Soulmist," he said. "It will give him the strength to take physical form." Hands shaking, she took the vial and stared at her husband blankly. There was more novels there, thousands of them hidden behind her eyes. The ghost's eyes begged her. Let me go.

Choking back a sob, she uncorked the bottle of soulmist. Gregor grabbed it eager, and Anja watched as it flowed into him, making his silhouette bright. He closed his eyes and slowly his form tightened. In a matter of moments, he looked no different than your average human man. He reached for Sadie and the two of them touched. Sadie gasped, then sobbed. They intertwined their hands and pulled each other close. As they began to sway to silent music only they could hear, Anja turned and walked out of the room. The gentleman followed behind him. This was a moment for only them.

(Words 517, Total 2804)
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Anja Nightwatcher
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Joined roleplay: February 15th, 2018, 3:26 pm
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An Unclaimed Dance (Job)

Postby Anja Nightwatcher on July 28th, 2019, 8:17 pm

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Anja watched the notes of light play against the ground as he sat on the top of the stairs. The gentleman stood nearby. Both of them were silent. This story was familiar to Anja, almost too familiar. He was fighting melancholy as he watched the shadows. He hoped he would be able to speak to Sadie later. Help her to heal, as Logan had done for him.

A considerable amount of time had passed when Sadie finally returned. Her eyes were red, but dry. That quiver in her jaw had all but vanished. Anja wondered if she was emotionally dry. How long had it taken Anja to properly grieve when Syla had died?

"Pay the man, Hubert," she said. Her voice didn't tremble. She just seemed tired. Anja stood to face her, taking the pouch of coins offered without even glancing at the gentleman. Anja demanded nothing of Sadie, but she answered the unspoken question anways. "He's gone," she said. "Like he wanted."

"My wife perished years ago," Anja told her. "I know your grief. If you need someone to talk to, you can find me at the World's End Grotto."

She almost broke then, but held herself together. "I will consider your offer, Sir," she replied. "Now if you don't mind, leave me."

Parting was such a bittersweet sorrow. Anja hoped that he had helped in some way to purge the pain. He headed outside, blinking in Syna's light, and felt as if he had stepped out of another world and back into the real one. He hoped that she could escape her entrapment, and that with healing her life would be better. But there was no guarantee. Anja could only do what he could. With a sigh, he endeavored to write her a letter, then headed back towards the Kelp Bar to tell Logan of his bittersweet success.

(Words 310, Total 3114)
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Anja Nightwatcher
Ghost Hunter
 
Posts: 262
Words: 298384
Joined roleplay: February 15th, 2018, 3:26 pm
Race: Human, Drykas
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