A Mistake in the Mist (Solo)

Aello summons a ghost that wanders amongst the living.

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While Sylira is by far the most civilized region of Mizahar, countless surprises and encounters await the traveler in its rural wilderness. Called the Wildlands, Syliran's wilderness is comprised of gradual rolling hills in the south that become deep wilderness in the north. Ruins abound throughout the wildlands, and only the well-marked roads are safe.

A Mistake in the Mist (Solo)

Postby Aello on January 13th, 2012, 3:14 am

Winter 20, 511 AV
Location: Unknown

Aello sat with her legs folded beneath her, in the lotus position. Her back was leaning up against a tree root. A larger one, with a square face; something that led into a broad-backed tree of many years. In its shelter, only a few streamers of golden sunlight managed to travel. Only the occasional wisp of wind could reach her, even though it howled furiously off in the distance, rattling the tree's branches from time to time. Causing them to scrape angrily against each other, or perhaps try to wind themselves around each other for support in such trying times.

Beneath Aello was a simple bed of dirt. The same could be said to sit before her. An endless stream wherever the trees refused to rise. A cold surface upon which to rest, and call upon something equally cold. If not more so.

Across the girl's lap rested a large volume, bound in black leather. It was something she had purchased long ago, in the vile city known as Ravok, but had never truly gotten a good chance to look at. Turning to the first page, Aello would get to peer at the book's name: Bringing Back the Dead. No author was listed beneath the book's title, but the girl didn't mind. She wasn't even remotely interested in such things. She simply, wanted to know how to summon a ghost whose soulmist she possessed. Whose vial was sitting snuggly in her pocket, waiting to be put to use.

Figuring that the beginning of the book could hold little more than an introduction, Aello flipped through the novel until she came to a portion about summoning. She read it over, until she had come to understand the basics, although, there were portions that were still a bit fuzzy. As she turned the page, Aello happened upon a diagram, of a sixteen-pointed star drawn in red ink. Beneath it were a list of instructions:

1- Draw your own blood, and set it in a container.
2- Cover your wrist or whatever you have come to slit.
3- Be sure you spill naught before you continue. Before you draw the star. Nothing too large, nothing too fancy, for as long as it has sixteen points, and you do what you must, the ghost shall come. It shall answer your call.
4- Draw the star with sixteen points, in any space you can muster. Just be sure it is large enough to accommodate your own will, and that of the dead.
5- Place the soulmist in its center, or as close to it as you can make it be.
6- Pull your hand away so the ghost has room to come.
7- Say their name, call them to you.
8- If you didn't fuck up, the ghost should come. The mist having been lost in its place.

Aello smiled, "well that seems easy enough," she whispered, as she reached for her bag and pulled out an empty glass jar. She felt as though it would serve the purpose of collection bin. She eased the cap off of it, and leaned forward, as she extracted her cursed blade from its sheath, sending a nearly inaudible ring of steel into the air.

"Well, here goes," Aello muttered as she lifted her left hand, and held it over the top of the glass jar. Her fingers were held together, her palm towards the sky, as though it could catch the light. Slowly, Aello inched her right hand closer, and then drew it across her palm. A ribbon of red shot across her pale skin, as did a lightning bolt of sharp pain. The pain caused Aello to bite her bottom lip, and wince, as she turned her hand over, and watched red rain into the jar. She could hear the nearly inaudible plop as a small puddle formed on the bottom of the jar. She could see the drops making the blood ripple as more and more fell.

After several chimes, about a quarter of an inch of blood rested atop the glass bottom. The fluid licking the sides of its container hungrily, as the girl simply stared at it a moment, wondering how much having a few questions answered was worth. Sighing, she placed her bloody dagger down by her feet, before reaching inside of her bag. She fished around its contents for awhile, until she found a ragged piece of cloth, which she wrapped around her hand, before tying it tightly against her skin, with the help of her teeth.

With the cloth in place, Aello could only smile. It was warm, but also rough against her skin. Yet, as it lapped her blood up, it grew cool, and sickeningly uncomfortable to the touch. But, with such an important task on her mind, Aello ignored it, as she reached into the jar. All her fingers save for the pointer, curled into her palm as she lowered her flesh into her own blood. As she let her nail brush against the bottom. Her blood to slip against the wall it made, and seep into her skin. She could feel it sinking into her, like ink against parchment.

Gingerly, Aello retracted her hand, and then, pushed it towards the ground. Blood dripped off her skin as she drew it across the dirt, in a diagonal line towards her right. She followed the line back up after awhile, until she had reached its starting point, and continued her star in a downwards slant to the left. By then she was out of blood, so she forced herself to reload, and keep on going around and around. Forced herself to make several triangles without a base. Forced herself to draw a sixteen-pointed star using her own blood, so that she may later find the answers.

By the time Aello had finished, several chimes had passed, and all of her blood was gone. Taking the time to wipe her blood off on the ground, before closing the jar's lid and returning it to her bag, Aello couldn't help but smile. She was almost there. Excitedly, she reached into her pocket and retrieved the vial of soulmist. She set it in the center of her star, and whispered the name "Samuel." The wind seemed to pick up as the name was uttered. A chill shot up the girl's spine, just before everything died down.

Aello's brow furrowed as she stared at her work. Perhaps, she had done something wrong. Perhaps, she was supposed to pour the mist into the center of the star, so the ghost could come. Maybe having a piece of itself trapped within a glass vial was binding the ghost, and keeping it from coming to her.

Shrugging, and figuring it was worth a try, Aello retrieved the glass vial of mist from the center of her star, and brought it to her lips. She pulled the top off with her teeth, and spit it into her lap, just below her book. She then brought the vial back to the center of her star, and tipped it over. She watched as the off white gel glimmered in the sunlight. As it cascaded into the center of her star, and splashed into a small puddle. When nothing was left, the girl corked it, and put the vial back into her pocket. "Samuel," Aello whispered, her voice strong and determined, "come to me."
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A Mistake in the Mist (Solo)

Postby Aello on January 13th, 2012, 10:56 pm

The wind seemed to pick up again. Aello could hear it howling. Feel it sweep her hair off her shoulders, make it dance and sway. She thought she could hear the very ground rumbling, rocks tumbling against the rough, uneven terrain. She thought she could feel her bones rattling, as the blood star turned white. As there was a loud clap of thunder, and then a flash, as bright and brilliant as the sun, which caused Aello to avert her gaze. Shut her eyes tightly because they stung so greatly.

When the light had died down, Aello looked up. Her star had faded, and in its place hovered a ghost. His mist circled the ground. Twirled over it, touching its toes down only briefly before it danced away, over and over again. Slowly, the girl's eyes glided upwards, to a pair of simple dark leather boots, and pants the same shade, if not marginally darker. To a simple forest green tunic, and broad arms. Hairy arms. Broad shoulders, and a thick neck. To his face, an oversized square with a wide-set chin. A cleft down its center. Slender deep red lips, fading in death. A large, bulbous nose. Piercing green eyes, and a full head of dark raven's hair, which was kept cropped, and close to the head. A strange sheen, a sort of misty glow, seemed to cling to the ghost. To cause him to fade, and seem all the more brilliant at the same time.

Aello's brow furrowed as she stared at the ghost. Into his deep green eyes. "You're not Samuel," she whispered, her voice betraying her confusion.

"Oh, but I am," the ghost replied simply. A hint of amused laughter in his voice.

"No, you're his brother, Josef," Aello replied.

"No I am Samuel. My brother is named Josef," the ghost responded.

"But he said he was you," Aello explained.

"Only because he was forced to do so," the ghost replied, as he cackled.

"But I took his soulmist because he offered it to me. You never did as much, and even if you had I wouldn't have wanted it," Aello cried. "How is it then, that you now stand before me?"

"Because I switched them, and since you knew me as him..."

"You came here," Aello whispered. "You answered the call."

"Right you are," the ghost commented.

"But why? Why go to all of this trouble just to come to this place?" Aello inquired.

"Oh... just because I like to play with my food," the ghost replied, as his lips curled into a sinister smile. "Speaking of which, it's about time we began our first game. Dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge or die." As the words left his lips, Aello couldn't help but wonder what Samuel meant, and why he had used dodge twice in the title of his little game. She didn't have long to wonder however, for with a flick of his wrist, and a furrow of his brow, the ghost had lifted a nearby rock and hurled it at her, pegging her in the leg.

"Oww," Aello muttered as she sprang to her feet, the book slipping from her lap and falling to the forest floor. Samuel merely chuckled as he floated a little closer.

"Don't tell me you don't like this game Aello," he called, "I always have so much fun with it." Inwardly, Aello groaned as she tensed her muscles. She could feel them rippling beneath her flesh as she bent her legs at the knee, and lowered herself into a crouch. She held her hands out at her sides, bracing herself as she stared the ghost down, waiting for whatever was about to come. She was just about to reach for her dagger, the cursed one that could cut through the dead as easily as it could cut through anybody else, but she soon came to realize she couldn't feel its cool bite against her skin. Startled, the girl glanced down at her thigh, only to find that her dagger was resting on the ground, close to the area where her star had once lain.

"Looking for this?" Samuel asked, as the dagger began to move off the ground. Slowly. Aello could see the metal shaking as he guided it up with his powers. Inch by inch, it turned to her. The metal sparkling in the light as its point came to face her. Aello gulped. This cannot be good, she thought, as Samuel extended his hands towards her, forcing the dagger forward. Startled, Aello's heart beat like a drum in her chest, as she sprang to the side, only to have the metal rake against her side. Her leg, just below the scabbard where it once lay.

"Petch!" Aello growled through grit teeth, as her skin began to sting, as droplets of red bled from the shallow incision the ghost had created. She could hear her dagger clatter off in the distance, causing her to relax for but a moment. For it meant that for the time being, while the ghost gathered his strength she was safe. Although, she was starting to think that the slits in her clothing were going to be a problem.

OOCI hope you got the dodgeball reference.
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A Mistake in the Mist (Solo)

Postby Aello on January 15th, 2012, 1:09 am

"Is this really necessary?" Aello asked. "You do realize as soon as I get a hold of that dagger, you're dead."

"It's a bit late for that missy," the ghost responded as he lowered his hands, and then slowly brought them back up. Aello could see them trembling alongside his concentration as he guided them along. His fingers curling into his palms. His ghostly muscles tensing. His old, white veins bulging around his knuckles. His nails jutting out of his skin as though they were claws. Shaking with the pain in her leg, her heart hammering, Aello simply stared at those hands. Her brain hardly capable of comprehending everything that was going on around her. Hardly capable of putting some sort of plan together to get herself out of this mess.

As Samuel lifted the dagger then, bringing it off the ground, shaking as he tried to steady the use of his ghostly abilities, Aello didn't bother to look back. Didn't bother to see. She simply stood, transfixed on his hands, trying to string together a series of thoughts and decide what to do. Should she leap for it? Leap for him and hope he entered her? That she felt the familiar cool, and could trap him inside until she had prepared for him? The extraction of her revenge?

Shaking her head lightly as the dagger inched higher, Aello's eyes grew wider. Her breath seemed to be catching in her chest as she waited. She thought she'd know from the subtle movements of Samuel's hands. His fingers, the occasional flick of the wrist, just when he had readied himself for another attack. Her muscles tensed in anticipation, rippling beneath her flesh, as she stood silently. Her heart speeding up, just as she felt the cool metal against her right leg, just below the knee. Sliding across her skin in a silent stream, releasing beads of red water onto the cold, scorched earth. Devoid of life and love.

Aello winced. She didn't understand how she could not have seen his hands move. Could not understand how she was losing to a ghost. Startled by it, by the searing pain in her side, Aello's eyes scarcely seemed to follow the projection of her own dagger. Her hand fell to her leg, trailing down its cool length, the bones which poked out of her skin, around her knees. Warm blood fell against her flesh, as she put pressure on the wound. Smearing the red into her paling skin.

"This is only the beginning," the ghost cackled, as he lifted Aello's dagger off its dirt bed. Growing all the more frustrated, Aello grit her teeth as she slid her right foot out a bit more, and leaned into her left foot, allowing it to brace her body. As her boot skid over small grey stone, and hardened earth, Aello's magic flared into life. A dark spider's web grew over her dagger. Expanding, ever expanding, until it reached her. The thick black lines, which seemed to drip with a sickly silver venom, crawled across the ground, as though it were filled with an endless stream of arachnids. She could feel them winding around her skin. Feel their filth seeping into her. Feel the sticky strands clutch her in their grasp. Form endless rings around her arms, her legs, her hands, every limb imaginable. The worst of it around her thigh where it always rested, the right hand, the one that always carried it in battle.

As the venom dripped off the dark silk, and fell to the forest floor it sparkled, like the light of the stars, and when it splashed across the ground, it turned red. Matching the color of Aello's freed blood. The web seemed to multiply, spreading over her lips, sewing them shut. Aello wanted to scream. She thought she could feel Rhysol's eyes on her. Dira's too, and she knew she was disappointing her. She didn't want her looking now, seeing her so weak, as the dagger flung for her again, making a line across her left knee. She could just make out the sound of it clattering against the forest floor, as a sense of pure dread overcame her. It was as though Rhysol held her heart in his hands. She thought she could feel him crushing it beneath his weight. Cackling as he did so.

"Let me go," Aello whispered as she watched the ghost lift her dagger again. She could see it wobbling, as its dark web tried to drag it back down, or perhaps, back into its scabbard. "Let me go!" she screamed, as he hurled it towards the center of her back, forcing her to dart to the side before he paralyzed her, or perhaps, finished her once and for all. So they could finish the rest in an endless dual of the dead. A dual which she could never win, knowing nothing of how their kind's bodies worked or moved.

Through the din, Aello thought she could hear them both cackling at her. It was only a matter of time before she was theirs.
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A Mistake in the Mist (Solo)

Postby Aello on January 15th, 2012, 3:14 am

Frantic, Aello wondered if she could get to the dagger before it got to her again. Of course, with time, it would return to her hand, or its scabbard, but, by then it may be too late for her. By then the ghost may have picked her off as she had done to so many people before. To so many animals, monsters. As she had done to so many ghosts, by torturing them back into the cycle, or even, kindly guiding them along.

As Aello's stomach churned she stared at the dagger resting across the ground. She thought she could see the ghost's mist slithering over to it, preparing to strike. As she watched it, her muscles in her heels flexed, causing the skin to jump as she sprang forward, towards her dagger, her feet pushing wildly against the terrain propelling her forward, as her arms swung, and dirt went flying in her stead. She thought she could have it in her grasp, with another spring, and a wild dive to scoop it up, but the ghost was too fast for her. With a subtle flick of his wrist, the dagger went flying for her, swiping across her right arm, in a small diagonal line, close to the wrist. It wasn't deep, more than a nick. Like a shallow paper cut, but a bead of red still fell.

Biting her bottom lip, Aello darted after the flying dagger as the ghost brought it back, towards her head. Her eyes growing wide as she realized she had lost her chance, Aello ducked as the weapon sailed over her head. She thought she could feel the wind rush over her, as the blade came to a halt, and the ghost forced it back, towards her right hip, causing her to curl her body. Her chin tucked into her chest as she pushed up against the ground with her feet. As her body circled forward, and her hands shot forth to catch herself. She felt them hit the ground, the cold, even terrain. The impact was hard, sudden, something that made her hands sting as she pushed against them lightly and tucked her legs into her chest. Rolling across the ground, and as swiftly as she could, getting back on her feet with the momentum she had built up to face the ghost.

Aello's legs trembled with her mounting fear. With her blood loss. She could feel the web of her magic, of the dagger's aura, dragging her into the ground. Her legs felt heavier and heavier by the minute, and as the dark silk seemed to thicken, it only got worse. She could hear the venom plopping against the ground, sense it seeping into the earth. Sense her dagger splashing into the red sea it had formed, even as the web built a bridge across it, connecting the three dueling forest entities: the lost girl, the murderous ghost, and the cursed blade.

Even though she couldn't physically see it with her own two eyes, Aello could sense the dagger. She could see it, through its link of magic, rising off the ground. Wobbling as the ghost strained to keep on controlling it, and cutting away at her. She could feel the dagger's web compressing her chest, keeping it from rising and falling quite as rapidly, as it tugged on her limbs, as though it were a child, begging for its mother's attention. I need to get to you, Aello thought, as she watched the dagger levitating a few feet away from where she stood. She wondered what the ghost was waiting for, and why it hadn't come for her yet. Maybe he was biding his time, enjoying her frenzied fury, and her fear. Perhaps he could taste it on his tongue, or sense that Aello was using more than her natural five senses. She simply could not tell.

After what felt like an eternity, the dagger came flying for Aello, but instead of moving in a relatively straight line, the dagger dove after its initial thrust towards its target. As it moved, Aello could see it was headed for her right foot, so, she brought it up, dragging the web along with her. Some of the sticky strands snapping against the strain of movement. Even more of them severing as the weapon cut through their length. Aello could see them falling. Spilling, curling into themselves as they tumbled to the ground, only to be swallowed up by the massive aura, and reincorporated into its structure.

The dagger slid across the ground, inching closer and closer to the ghost. Maybe now is as good a time as any, Aello thought, as she made a mad dash for it.

OOCI realize that the auras of objects tend to be thinner and smaller than say a human's but I figured, given Aello's level and the nature of the dagger, and her as a person, it may not seem quite so small.
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A Mistake in the Mist (Solo)

Postby Aello on January 16th, 2012, 12:36 am

Her arms swung as Aello forced her feet off the ground, urging her body forward. She could hear the strings snapping as she extended her arms, as she came closer and closer to her weapon. Her fingers seemed to stretch out towards the dagger. The cool winter air gliding between them soundlessly as she kept her eyes on her prize. Yet, as she was about to wind her fingers around it, it came off the ground, towards her. She could see it coming, even before it cut across her bare flesh, about her left knee. Inwardly the spirtist cursed, frustrated by the web which seemed to be dragging her down, and slowing her movements.

The ghost seemed to cackle all the more furiously as he lifted the dagger again, and guided it against Aello's flesh, deepening the first line he had made. Even before the dagger had settled back down on the ground, Aello was biting her bottom lip. She could feel her own, warm blood, trickling down the length of her legs, splattering the forest floor. She could hear it plopping into the red pool cast beneath the bed of sticky black. The nature of her weapon's aura. The one thing she could never truly rid herself of.

As the aurist glared at the weapon, she balled her hands into tight fists. Seconds later, she had sprung for it, darting across the forest floor just as the ghost was lifting it. Sending it wobbling upwards. But Aello would not stand for that. She pounced on it, her hands winding about the hilt. The strands of black silk gluing her to the bed of black. Her knees aching, shaking, from the sudden impact on the hardened dirt beneath her. Her body trembling with it, as she felt the ghost trying to will the weapon upwards, away from her, or perhaps even, into her.

The silk seemed to wind through Aello's fingers as she watched it. They seemed to suck her hands into the earth, as she gripped the blade awkwardly for dear life. The cursed thing hovering a few inches off the ground now, the bloody metal turned towards her, resting in a place that was directed just between each of her knees. "Stop this now," Aello hissed through grit teeth, as she pushed the blade back into the ground so roughly, that fresh dirt imbedded itself in the underside of her nails. Its touch so cool, so uninviting and harsh, that she felt as though her hands had plummeted into the depths of Rhysol's soul itself. A feeling so familiar, and so haunting, that it seemed almost, even more painful when the web tried to draw the foreign entities back out, replacing their presence with its own.

"Enough," Aello growled, as several beads of sweat appeared on her brow, despite the cold. She could feel herself losing strength, as she tried to keep up every ounce of her will to fight. But she was losing blood, albeit slowly, but it was running away from her all the same, taking a trail seldom traveled into the distance. Her heart had not stopped hammering, and the cold was relentless in how it bit at her skin, nibbling away small portions until she felt as though her head would explode. Her entire body.

As she fought, Aello could feel the dagger inching higher and higher. Levitating even though she was trying to drag it back down, and the web was trying to push it into its grave. Whether that be within her own flesh, or the cool terrain, the spiritist could no longer tell. "Please," Aello whispered, only to have her voice drowned out by Samuel's maniacal laughter. It scared her, chilling her to the bone so greatly, that slowly but steadily, the dagger was able to make its way upwards, until it rested against her flesh once more. Against the side of her neck, just below where an Adam's apple would rest on a man.

The girl could feel the dagger push against her flesh. She could feel it pressing her skin in, without releasing more blood, and yet, Aello knew it was only a matter of time before its cool grip overcame her, creating a final, ruby necklace to adorn her flesh, before she fell.

"Stop this," Aello pleaded, as Samuel's eyes came to a rest upon her, as opposed to the dagger and his endless stream of work. She could feel his gaze boring a hole in the center of her forehead. Silently, she wondered if her sweat would sink through, into her center. Chilling her as everything else burned, whisking her away into the next realm. "Please..."

The dagger continued to tremble, much like Aello's hands as she tried to force it away from her skin. But she and the ghost seemed evenly matched, causing neither of them to gain any true ground for quite some time. Eventually, however, the dagger seemed to sink, drawing the first speckle of blood from Aello's inner workings. A ruby pendant, for the elegant necklace the ghost was preparing to carve.

"Please," Aello pleaded again, as she winced in pain. The dagger having shed another red tear. The girl's teeth clung together, as the web circled her flesh like a snake, drawing her hands and the dagger even closer. Please Dira, deliver me from this evil, Aello pleaded, as the first of her tears fell. First from the right eye, and then the left. She thought she felt them freeze in the center of her cheeks, turning to icy shards as cold as the ghost's spirit. Please, Aello begged, let it come back to me, she thought, as she simply knelt in silence, waiting for the inevitable. More tears falling, and freezing. More silken strands forming, only to entangle her in their snare as the ghost began to flicker. His body fading momentarily before it came back into view, clear as day.

Please, Aello thought, one final time, when she had begun to lose all hope of surviving the day. The battle with one who simply, could not die. Her body was beginning to feel as though it had frozen over. Despite the occasional shake in her hands, everything about her seemed so rigid. So very lost to this world. She knew then, that it could not be long before she went out. Before Dira, hopefully, accepted her into her open arms. And yet, as chime after chime ticked by, nothing seemed to change. The dagger rested in the same position, as did each entity trying to wrest control of it.

Until finally, the dagger disappeared, causing Aello's arms to fly outward. "Where'd it go?" Samuel yelled as the web rejoiced, as Aello felt the dagger's familiar weight against her leg. She knew, somehow, even before it reappeared, that it would wind up in her scabbard. Smiling to herself, Aello forced herself off her knees. She could hear her bones cracking as she pulled the ice and webs apart. As she forced her hand past the folds of fabric, and wrapped her hand around the hilt. As she forced herself, with every bit of strength she had remaining, to move forward, into the ghost, as she whisked the dagger upward, and thrust it into the center of his flickering chest.

Samuel's eyes growing wide only as he began to realize what happened. As his mist tumbled over Aello's hand. Freezing the black strands of the dagger's aura, halting the subtle fall and incessant plopping produced by the venom it carried. The girl's flesh paled as the ghost floated back, screaming his head off as the dagger rested in his center. He flickered all the more wildly as time passed, and Aello simply watched. Her body wavering for a time before she fell to her knees with a low grunt. As the ghost backed up some more, and lifted his arms, stretching them towards the sky in rage. Aello watched as Samuel closed his eyes and flickered away. The dagger falling from its fresh sheath, and to the forest floor, into a bed of black lace and warm blood. Poison.

As he left her, Aello could scarcely maintain her smile, as she collapsed, flat on her face. Her neck turning, so her cheek rested against the ground, as she closed her eyes. The dagger clattering to the forest floor as her head fell. Falling close to her outstretched hand. As the web crawled over them both. Encasing each in a cocoon, sheltering them from the elements. Although its touch was cold, Aello could not sense it, lost was she, in a place between sleep and wakefulness. Safety and fright. Life and death.

And although the web seemed to caress her skin, licking her with its poison, as it tried to get her to wake, Aello felt nothing. Even as it faded away. Even as her body fell away into the darkness.

OOCNo, Aello is not dead. But I know you'd like to think so. She is just... wiped and uh... probably in a state of shock. She will wake soon enough though, and be as well as she can be.
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A Mistake in the Mist (Solo)

Postby Chevalier on January 20th, 2012, 3:10 am

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Aello


LORE
  • Self Inflicting Injury
  • Summoning a Ghost
  • Summoning the WRONG Ghost
  • Near Death Experiences




EXPERIENCE
Skill XP Earned
Spiritism 3
Meditation 1
Rhetoric 1
Acrobatics 3
Evasion 3
Auristics 1
Dagger 1


Storyteller Notes


Secret :
I like this one a lot more. There something fun about watching a character be truly challenged and put into a disadvantageous spot.
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