Completed A Chance of a Ghost

Jad is spooked on the job. (Job thread #1)

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

A Chance of a Ghost

Postby Jadlin Hayes on October 22nd, 2014, 7:09 am

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60th Day of Fall, 514

Jad came from the Infirmary feeling as if all was right with the world. They'd pressed and prodded his ribs, while he bent and stretched in a variety of ways, joking that the contortions they were forcing upon him were more likely to re-injure his ribs than any activities he was likely to indulge in recreationally.

There was no soreness remaining from his run-in with the runaway cart the season before. His employer, Mr. Pelthes, the leather worker, had given him easy duty for the entire period between then and now. He'd only had to oversee the warehouse, or one of the shops that made up the bloc of merchantmen of which his employer was a member. He'd been spared the loading and unloading duty when carts of goods were moved in or out.

If not for the fact that he'd saved potentially thousands of mizas worth of goods from being stolen, and by extension, several paydays' worth of mizas, the other employees might have developed greater resentment than the mere eye rolling and head shaking that was passed his way.

Today was to be different though, and Jad was eager to get back to a more demanding degree of labor. But he was surprised to see what he was due to unload from the cart pulling up in front of the warehouse. There were the usual array of crates, barrels and bundles. But this time, there was a single item unlike the rest. A long, narrow box; sealed and ornate with scroll work decorations.

It was a coffin.

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A Chance of a Ghost

Postby Jadlin Hayes on October 28th, 2014, 3:34 am

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Jad eyed the coffin uneasily, as two of the loaders carried it into the warehouse. He felt a sudden cold draft in the passage it had passed through. He pulled another small crate off the cart and lugged it in. It was marked "Liquids", which accounted for its weight.

The two men walked back out, hugging their arms with a shiver. "Damn!...Hey, don't set those heavy liquids on that petching coffin. Show some respect." One of them called to Jad. The other muttered a vague agreement.

"What's the big deal? It's empty...isn't it?" He asked, the apprehension putting a hint of a tremble in his voice. "Is there a body in it or something?"

The loaders stopped and exchanged a glance. The possibility of playing a prank on the youngster an immediate priority. "Nah, kid, it's me granny's vegetable garden. I just wanted to be sure ya did'na over water it."

Just a little annoyed, Jad offered his defense of the stupid question. "I MEAN, why are they storing it here, if there's a body in it? Shouldn't it be at the preachin' graveyard?"

"Not my problem, boy." The man responded. His partner offered a bit more though, "S'gonna be yours for the next day or two. But hey, they've made big strides in the science of embalming. S'got a special seal on it. Ya won't have any trouble as long as you don't break the seal anywhere. S' why ya don't wanna put nothin' on it. They're real touchy. I've heard tell of ghosts coming out and possessin' a guy because the poor sucker desecrated their coffin."

Jad was creeped out enough from having a coffin in the middle of the main floor. But his childhood, as a hypnotized and mind controlled cult slave, had included a number of bizarre incidents. Enough of them involved Spiritist cult members, using ghosts to do all sorts of sinister things, to convince him of just about anything. What these men were making up was not so far removed from things Jad had actually seen."Y-you mean...they really invade people's bodies? They possess them?"

If Jad hadn't been turning to look, with trepidation, back into the warehouse, he might have seen the additional exchange of glances between the two men, and the quick effort they made to stifle their grins. They didn't realize he'd been a slave of men that had used the gnosis of Cordas to force behavior from their victims. Even after learning the truth of the men who'd "raised" him, he'd never known if some of those incidents might have been caused by ghostly possessions, rather than cordas manipulation.

It was easy for Jad to believe that a ghost could be roused from the grave to possess him.

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A Chance of a Ghost

Postby Jadlin Hayes on November 3rd, 2014, 12:00 am

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Jad's imagination began to populate every petty creak and pop he'd heard in his last season of work, with sinister spirits. "But what's the big deal of setting something on top of it? Is the body inside of it already? How is that gonna break this..."seal" you're talking about?" Jad was slowly shying away from the front entrance.

"Like I said, kid, s'not my problem. Just don't do anything rude to the coffin. If you were waitin' to be buried, would you like it if someone treated your final resting place like a shelf?" Tombo looked toward his buddy, as if for confirmation.

"Waiting to be buried? That's just what I'm talking about. If it's supposed to be buried, why is it here and not the graveyard?" In his anxiety, Jad did not notice that Tombo and Cork were only just realizing that he was truly taking this seriously.

Tombo feigned indecision, and muttered to Cork, just loud enough for Jad to hear, "I don't know if we're supposed to tell him. What do you think?"

Jad piped up in alarm, "Tell me what? What's going on with this thing?"

Cork groaned and acted like his partner had just opened a huge can of worms. In truth, he had no idea what Tombo's prank was, but he knew how to play along. "Damn it, Tombo! you and your big petchin' mouth! You better tell him now. I'm washin' my hands of it."

Tombo adopted an air of embarrassed resignation. "Okay, kid, look, keep your voice down. That's as likely to set this off as settin' stuff on his coffin." The loader put on a look as if he wished he could take his words back. In truth, he could hardly keep from laughing as he went on. "The fact is, we just brought this FROM the graveyard. The family is all pissed off because this guy was supposed to be buried on their property. Got some family crypt or some such. So look, we just assumed the spirit could be restless, okay? We don't really know anything. besides, it's got all the spiritist seals."

Cork shrugged, "I'm not that sure that the seals matter. Those only keep it from being tampered with from the outside. If the spirit inside gets angry enough, it's probably capable of breaking through the seals from the inside. They can overpower most anything. So you don't want to be around when one comes out."

It was impossible to say whether this simple laborer knew anything about ghosts, spiritists, or any details of any actual incidents involving either. But he would probably not have mentioned them anyway. It was all he could do to keep from cracking up at the terror etched on Jad's features.

Tombo approached Jad, placing a chummy arm around his shoulder. "Look son, you'll be fine. You see the symbols on the side? Those are the seals, I expect. Something some spiritist probably put there to..."calm" the spirit into its restful state. It's them what's keepin' it asleep-like. You don't have to do nothin'. I suppose if you start to smell rotten meat, THEN you can start worryin'."

There was an ongoing exchange, with Jad pleading for confirmation that respectful treatment was sufficient to ensure that nothing could go wrong. Tombo and Cork gave him these assurances without hesitation. All confidence and experience. The only element of doubt they repeated was for Jad to be aware of any smell of rot, as this could indicate that the body is somehow not staying fresh, which would suggest that the seal had been broken.

Naturally, they discounted that as an utter absurdity. But still, they mentioned it more often than anything else while they unloaded the rest of the wagon. They could see by the way Jad sniffed the air whenever he went inside, that the seed had been planted.

When the cart was unloaded, they shook hands and wished Jad well, telling him once again that he had nothing to worry about, and knowing that this was the surest way to KEEP him worrying. As they drove the wagon away from the warehouse, their mischief was discussed openly. "So are you gonna put that rotted meat right on the front landing? Right by the door?" Cork asked.

His partner chuckled, "Naw, that'd be too easy to detect. There's a loose panel on the front siding of the landing. I'm gonna put it UNDER the front door, so he won't see it when he looks out."

They laughed for a moment, but soon enough, Cork turned to the other. "You know, I like the kid. I don't want him to freak out or anything. Ya know, get so spooked he abandons his watch. He could lose his job."

Tombo scoffed easily. "Bawww, it ain't gonna come to that. It's not like there actually IS a body in there. I like the kid too. And mostly because he's a good sport. When he realizes we're just funnin' him, he'll laugh as much as anyone."

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A Chance of a Ghost

Postby Jadlin Hayes on November 5th, 2014, 6:03 am

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It was not long after Jad was alone in the warehouse that his mind began to mold the mundane into the macabre. Every creak, the press of evil feet upon the flooring. Every hiss of wind, the hiss of venomous snakes, slithering among the dust to sink their fangs into his legs. Every sound from outside, a feint to cover the telltale scrape of movement INSIDE. Every shadow a warning of monsters just beyond sight, or darkness the embodiment of sentient tainted djed, searching to clamber over him and invade his every pore to magnify the Leech taint he ever sought to purge from his soul.

It targeted him for corruption. It came from the coffin, he was sure. Could this be the work of the 'Mage Silencer'? Was the body in the coffin a leftover from the reign of bloody terror visited upon the city the season before? Had the villain ever been captured? Had he eluded justice by somehow feigning death, and being hidden in this coffin? Preserved by magic seals to rise again at the bidding of some minion waiting for the opportunity to present itself?

Was it the body the Mage Silencer himself, or a victim's body? Was the Mage Silencer a member of the family in question? Had it ever been determined? Did the body have some magic effect imbued upon it? Was the monster coming to claim this coffin to further some vile agenda? Could the Mage Silencer himself be a possessed body, victimized by some powerful ghost?

Tombo and Cork had said quite casually that the coffin was being shipped out. Was it being shipped to this villain? Did they know? Were they part of it? Had he finally become the target he'd feared he might ever since his arrest? Had the coffin been brought here specifically because of his presence here this night?

Plots of insidious evil and complexity began to take shape in his imagination. Plots that took the shape of the coffin. Jad could practically see the vessel slowly opening, cruel laughter paralyzing him, a ghostly form rising from the casket, beckoning him irresistibly to give himself up, his personal damnation being the awareness of the evil to be done by a horror wearing his body. His visage being forever remember in song, story and sketch as the embodiment of malevolence.

A sudden thump behind him struck trembling fear through his spine, nearly causing his heart to burst in his chest. He spun to see what abomination was about to beset him. But there was nothing. Everything was in order. Everything was in place. Except...what?...something was different.

His heart hammered in his chest as he took slow silent steps to circle a large stack of crates. The coffin was behind him, and he not forgotten about its presence. But the sound he'd heard had not come from it. Then it dawned on him...A Distraction! he whirled back around to face the coffin, and whatever unholy denizen of Uldr's dungeons would be standing there beside it, the smile of the grave gracing its face...

But again, there was nothing. Nothing but a slight odor. It tickled his memory. What was it about some smell was he supposed to remember? His mind was in such turmoil that it did not occur to him until he placed the smell without his memory's aid...Rotten meat!

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A Chance of a Ghost

Postby Jadlin Hayes on November 7th, 2014, 8:38 am

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Jad's mouth stammered in silent plea. No words could suffice as his jaw bobbed uselessly. He took stapes back, away from the coffin, assuming the smell was from inside. But it seemed to follow him. It seemed like had to make a conscious effort to blink, his eyes were so bugged. Another slight bump and he turned with his skirmish sword ready to strike.

Again, there was something different. Again, he couldn't place it. No, he knew what it was. it was a ghost, or undead something-or-other. Something after him. Something jealous of his life, envious of his warm flesh, his existence. It would possess him and take his soul. Leave him a limbo of cold void-like nothingness. Knowing no better, Jad assumed a ghost's possession was never-ending.

Something clattered behind him and he screamed and dove forward, spinning around and slashing the empty air. Then back around again with another slash. It was out-guessing him at every turn. Toying with him.


"Come out then, fiend! Show yourself! I'll put steel up your unholy ASS!" Jad brandished the pole arm menacingly in one direction after the other. He had no idea if his weapon could injure an undead. He jabbed the air left and right, spinning and crouching to swing the blade end. Jabbing it against the floor to vault himself to his feet, thrusting the spear point in the air above him.

"COWARD! I can smell your rotted flesh. You won't get MINE!" Jad shouted, his voice cracking. He held the weapon level, blade pointed forward. Suddenly jabbing the spear point end behind him, he whipped around, pivoting on his heel and swiped with the blade in a crossing pattern as he took several steps forward, occasionally whipping the blade in the space overhead.

"What, are you afraid of a little steel? What are you going to do against a Spiritist? Leave this place and I will say nothing." Jad had no idea if there was a Spiritist in Zeltiva, but he figured it to be a good bluff. Most large towns had them. For all he knew, Zeltiva had three.

This went on for several chimes, Jad's arms and aggression eventually tiring from the lack of response. He sat on a crate, still very tense, but determined not to go swinging his weapon aimlessly anymore. He had taken a few chips out of the sides of several other crates, and broken a few ceramic items he'd knocked off a shelf. There was a silk tapestry with a large slash in it.

He scowled into the dim area beyond the coffin and the stacks of barrels and crates beyond it. The smell of rotted meat had become slightly more noticeable, but he was beginning to suspect he'd been played.

Then suddenly he saw what he'd noticed out of place before. His eyes glared, part in fear, part in anger. There were ceramic figurines set in a row atop one of the crates. He'd taken note of how some of them were positioned in the order of a dance he'd become somewhat familiar with. He'd wondered if the loaders had placed them like that on purpose. He'd been planning on asking them when the notion of ghosts and possession had driven it completely from his mind. Now one of them had changed its position.

He stood, his gaze drilling into the little statue as he took slow steps toward it. He stopped when he was within his pole arm's reach of it and started to bring the weapon up to touch it. His heart nearly stopped when the thing suddenly swung its gaze up at him and sprang over the statuettes to its side, making a bid to escape.

Had Jad's shriek not been slightly strangled in shock, he might not have heard the thing squeal, "Don't Kill Me!" as it darted for a space to hide.
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A Chance of a Ghost

Postby Jadlin Hayes on November 9th, 2014, 2:58 am

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In that instance where Jad perceived that the tone of the little figurine's voice indicated that it was at least as scared as HE was, he'd already taken irreversible steps to the rear, toppling a stack of exotic bundled leather. Trying not to step ON the bundles doomed him to trip and fall, his only focus being to make sure the blade of his skirmish sword did no damage to any of them as he landed, face-first, on the floor.

A high pitched howl brought a grimace to his face, as it was no more than a foot from his ear. Covering the offended ear prevented Jad from getting to his feet as quickly as he might. But his elbow, swung up in the process of plugging his ears, caught on something leaping over him and sent it tumbling into the jumble of scattered leather.

He saw one of the bundles move, seemingly on its own, and brought his boot down on it. There was a pitiful "OOF", and he hooked his boot to kick the bundle, and whatever was under it, toward his other foot. He didn't quite manage to trap the slippery figurine between his boots, but he did limit its escape routes to ones that made it plainly visible.

As the little figure squeezed out of the jam, and ran for the darkness around the edge of another pallet of goods, Jad stared in astonishment. It was a living, decorative figurine! Like something found in the niches of some rich merchants home, perched on a pedestal. Admittedly, it lacked the colorful look of fired glaze, seeming more to be all one color, but it was detailed to a degree beyond any statuary he'd ever seen before.


"WAIT! STOP! I WON'T HURT YOU!" Jad called after the retreating figure. It did not really surprise him that it did not respond, but he decided it was best to stay where he was. "Look, I'm sorry if I scared you, but, you scared me too! I thought you were some kind of possessed vessel for a ghost or something, looking to take my soul. I won't chase you, okay? But you can't stay here. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't just leave, knowing you're in here."

"I'm not a preachin' ghost! I'm hiding from someone and I think I'll be safe here. Can't you let me stay? I won't hurt anything." the little voice begged from the darkness. "And I sure as Hai can't steal your soul. I know those guys were telling you stuff like that, but they were just pullin' your leg. They're the ones that put the rotted meat under the front steps. I heard them say so."

The lack of any actual monster arising from his fears had given Jad to suspect he'd been the butt of a joke already. But it was nice to have it confirmed. He had to laugh though, swearing mock retribution. "I had kind of figured that out now myself, but thank you...uhhh...May I ask, without offending you...just exactly...what you are?"

Jad actually knew, or suspected anyway, that this little oddity belonged to that unusual species of magically created creatures called 'Pycons'. But he thought if he gave the little fellow a mild jolt of indignity, it might shed its apprehension and come out where Jad could see it.

It appeared to work. A scowling face appeared around the edge of a crate, steadied by four hands. Jad held his hands up in the classic display of bearing no weapons, and the creature came fully into view. It had the appearance of an Eypharian warrior or guard, with some sort of Jackal-faced armor. "Are you serious? You've never seen a Pycon before." Now it warmed up to the situation, deciding to exaggerate its renown.

It cocked all four arms on its hips and tilted its head with a swagger, "Well, you should consider yourself very lucky to have your first such encounter be with the glorious 'Prince of the Pressorah's Palace Pyve!' I am the unquestioned ruler of the entire Pycon population of exotic Eyktol."

Jad hid a crooked grin at the little fellow's bluster. "So, how...uh...your highness...did you end up hiding with a load of rotting meat in a warehouse in Zeltiva? Plots by your Vizier lead to Imperial betrayal? Did you have to hide in a manure wagon to make your way out of Ahnatep?"

The little clay figure took an angry step forward from the shadows, "Are you calling me a liar? You DARE? Why, I'll have you flogged and run through the gauntlet, you insolent peasant!" he had now covered half the distance between them as he continued to take angry steps forward, rebuking his detractor.

Now Jad laughed outright, "A thousand pardons, oh exalted one! Is that the royal armor you wear? Can you tell me the Pressorah's name? I may not be that familiar with Pycons and their pyves, but I have been to Ahnatep with the merchantman 'Bethany's Badge', and we heard of no coup being perpetrated against any mighty prince of the palace. Surely such a momentous event would be the talk of all the southern coast."
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A Chance of a Ghost

Postby Jadlin Hayes on November 13th, 2014, 7:24 am

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The little statuette suddenly brightened. "You're only newly arrived here?" relief flooded the little fellow's leather-hard expression. "Oh, well then, I guess you're alright. Yeah, you're right, I'm not a prince. I'm just a guy trying to get food for his little group."

"What do you eat?" Jad asked. He had an inkling, but wanted to hear it from the pycon himself. He wondered now if the little guy was here in the warehouse now looking for clay to steal. He hated to have to disappoint the jolly little guy, but he was pretty sure they weren't stocking any at this location.

"Clay, of course. I found a whole bunch of it. But the man there wouldn't let me take any. I had to get my friends together and get it ourselves. He called us 'thieves'! Can you imagine? I mean how rude!" The Pycon didn't seem to have a really clear idea of ownership. Jad wondered if his Kelvic girlfriend, Black, had a much clearer one. She too, made a living from stealing. He asked the Pycon his name, and was told that he went by "Quartet", a reference to his number of arms.

Jad sat down and looked at him, "Well, look Quartet. I don't know who you took the stuff from, but you can bet he had to pay for it, and doesn't appreciate you and your friends taking it for nothing. Did you offer to buy it?" he asked.

Quartet didn't seem to quite understand. "Buy it? WE shouldn't have to buy it. It was ours. It was right there, part of the ground. Sure, we did a little filtering to purify it. You know, get the sand out of it. Uck, I hate sand." he made a face. "Then these humans come along, stake the place off and chase us away, saying we're stealing their resources, that they have a business to run."

Jad found himself feeling even more sympathy for the pyve Quartet belonged to. They'd had their own source of food, and had had it taken as "property" by a group of crafters. These potters probably thought the pyve could just move to some other spot with a high degree of clay in the soil. But the Pycons probably felt the way simple folk in stories felt when some rich man "claimed" an area as some sort of barony or realm of some sort, and declared it "private" so the people could no longer hunt on it.

Clay was cheap though. He wondered if there was some favor he could ask of this group of Pycons in exchange for buying several pounds of clay for them outright. He expected it had been the potters' shop that these pycons had raided. They were not part of the bloc of merchants that Mr. Pelthes' group was associated with. But he still had a good idea that a reimbursement would make the potters more wiling to write off a few dozen pounds of clay.

And looking at the slight modifications that Quartet's face underwent as he spoke gave Jad the germ of an idea. "Look, I'm pretty sure I can straighten this out for you. But tell me, is there one of your group that is particularly good at molding himself into shapes? I've got an idea how to get back at Tombo and Cork for their prank."
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A Chance of a Ghost

Postby Jadlin Hayes on November 17th, 2014, 3:49 am

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While Quartet scurried out the door to return to his friends. Jad looked for likely padding from the stock on the shelves. There were wads of cotton that would work well enough, barrels of them, in fact. Jad rolled this barrel out from the back row and brought it nearer to the front entry, but still out of sight.

Then he went back and looked for some stored garments. These were not for the dummy he was going to make. They were for him to wear while his own clothes were being used. They had to be the exact clothes he had worn when Tombo and Cork had seen him. Then he went to different section of the warehouse and took down some wooden dowels of varying lengths.

He picked the ones that measured the most appropriately and started wrapping them with cloth. He knew he he still had a few bells so he took his time faking the basic swells of normal human musculature. But he left it in thin and bony dimensions. It would be beneath his clothes, so it didn't have to be exact. Mostly, there just needed to be the plainly evident bulk of the ribcage. The clothes could sag everywhere else.

By the time he was dressing the dummy in his clothes, Quartet returned with several of his friends. One of them, called 'Bulbus', was already showing the bulk of his body to be made up of a human-sized head. It was currently very cherubic in style, but both he and Quartet assured Jad that he could make its appearance emaciated and skull-like in a few chimes.

He took a few chimes to demonstrate. Jad nodded eagerly, a grin spreading across his face, to be quickly mirrored on the face of the Pykons.
"This is going to be great." he snickered to Quartet. The he turned back to Bulbus, "...and you can make facial movements while you hold this look?" Bulbus answered with a ghastly display of bug-eyed teeth-gnashing, complete with a strangled moan, as he rocked slowly, side to side.

Jad wished he had the means to have the hands of his dummy claw at the "neck" while the head did this, but he fully expected this to be enough to scare the shyke out of Tombo and Cork, when they came back for their morning shift. In the meantime, Jad decided that an open coffin would be even more of an effect to add to the gruesome scenario he was creating for their benefit.

He went up to it and pushed against it. It was heavy, so Jad reasoned there were goods inside of it. he did not believe for a tick that there was a body in it. That gag was only to make him think he'd have a ghost coming after him. In reality, they wouldn't bring a coffin with a body in it into the warehouse. Mr. Pelthes would never allow such a thing.

He tested the edge of the lid. It lifted easily. Jad did not know the practices of the mortuary industry, but he doubted that the lids were left loose on a coffin when it was going to be buried. He opened it fully and was satisfied to see old mementos of some member of this family. This coffin was being used as a storage chest!

Well, that eliminated the possibility of placing the rotted meat inside the thing. It was one thing to temporarily displace the stored items for the purpose of his return prank on his fellow warehouse guards. It was quite another to actually "stink up" a customers personal property. Even with the items removed, if he put the meat in there, the smell would be absorbed to be transferred to anything put in there afterwards.
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A Chance of a Ghost

Postby Jadlin Hayes on November 22nd, 2014, 10:04 pm

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The bell of Tombo and Cork's return approached, and Jad set to positioning the body to best indicate a dying struggle against some unholy force of life-sucking evil. He knocked over a few small stacks of crates, as if in the throes of panic and resistance. He scattered some small items to add to this effect. And he set the rotted meat out of sight, but close enough to be detected.

Then he lay the dummy up against a scaffold bracing pole the gloves positioned to look hooked as if in agony, but the arms finally relaxed in defeat. Bulbus climbed up onto the shoulders and settled himself in for the last several chimes' wait.

When the sounds of the wagon came through the door, it was accompanied by Tombo's voice.
"What the Hai? He's got the damned door standin' open! He better be in there."

Cork was less stern, sounding even concerned. "Oh shyke, Tombo...Do ya think he chickened and ran? I TOLD ya a overdone it with all that talk! I di'n want the youngster ta lose his job. It's gonna come back on US, ya know."

Tombo hissed his partner into quiet, "Then keep yer damn mouth shut. It'll be his word agin' ours. Damn it anyway! Serves him right if'n he DOES lose his job. Chickens over a preachin' ghost story..." he continued to mutter something about cowards.

Cork started to say something as they entered the actual storage area, something about a smell. But he only got halfway through the word before he got caught up in a blanched, trembling repetition of the sounds of the letters, as he tried to back out.

Tombo's voice sounded irate at being bumped, "What the Hai, Cork? Whatchoo babblin' about? Get in there!" his grunt of exertion was the perfect bass counterpoint to Cork's soprano squeal of terror as he stood frozen to the spot, hugging himself.

The sound of a dry gasp emanated from the spot where the dummy, in Jad's clothing, lay slumped against the wooden support pillar, a few barrels in strategically random-seeming positions. Both Tombo and Cork turned white as the head on the body turned its gray, cadaverous face towards them, its eyes bulging in a ghastly pleading expression. "W-w-whyyyyy?...." it rasped in feigned agony.

Prior to this, Jad had spent a chime in concentration on the feel of his arm, the pulse, the very knowledge of its existence. He let his focus slide to his hand, then forced the sense of that feeling to slowly extend beyond the physical. The astral hand soon extended to the point that Jad could grip the arm of the dummy from behind some stored boxes.

He did so now, in concert with Bulbus' groaning plea. As the horrid face begged for understanding of what had been done to him, the arm raised in supplication. A slowly building shriek of horror finally burst from Cork's throat, sounding as if the very inner flesh was being maimed from the exertion, and he turned and fled. But Quartet, hidden from view, kicked the door hard enough to close it in Cork's face. Tombo was still rooted to the spot, but he managed to find the courage to take a step forward and strike the arm off with his sword.

Now Bulbus screwed his eyes shut and screamed in theatrical pain, which helped to cover the sound of wooden dowel hitting the shelf two rows away. Tombo's own scream added plenty of volume to the din and he backed away, slicing the empty air wildly. Cork was desperately looking for a place to hide as Jad relinquished his astral hold on the remains of the "arm", opting instead to lift his skirmish sword into the otherwise empty air.


There was no need to practice any competent moves with the weapon. The simple image of a disembodied pole arm, hanging steadily in the air, with Bulbus voice promising "Reeveeennnge....reeveeennnge." was enough.

Cork's normal body odor was suddenly enhanced with the smell of urine, and Tombo dropped to his knees, casting aside his sword and begging Jad through heartfelt sobs for forgiveness. His pleas were nearly incomprehensible through the broken heaves as he insisted he'd never meant for this to happen, that it was just a joke.

Jad waited a moment, then set the pole arm beside his "body". He took a moment to let his astral hand rejoin the flesh, then he stepped out from behind the adjoining shelf as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Tombo's crying stopped abruptly, as Jad walked past in front of him, but he winced anew as Jad lifted the "head" off the corpse. He set it on a shelf at chest level then turned to smile at his two fellow guards.

"Oh, hey guys, you're back. Is something wrong? A couple of friends dropped by for a bit of fun of our own. I'd like you to meet Bulbus..." he indicated the one he'd just set down, who was already starting to resume a more humanoid dimension. "...and Quartet." he pointed over by the door, where the little four-armed prankster was waving and grinning. "They're Pycons."
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Jadlin Hayes - No Hurries, No Worries...
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Jadlin Hayes
A Symphony of Synthesis
 
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Joined roleplay: May 29th, 2014, 6:15 am
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A Chance of a Ghost

Postby Perplexity on December 14th, 2014, 1:09 pm

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You have played well, but the game is at an end.

You have been bested. Beaten. Checkmate!

However, here is a consolation prize: a wealth of Experience and Lores! If you have any questions or concerns regarding this grade, please do not hesitate to send me a PM. I'll be more than happy to assist you!

 
Jadlin
XP
  • Socialization | +3 EXP
    Rhetoric | +2 EXP
    Acrobatics | +1 EXP
    Persuasion | +1 EXP
    Projection | +1 EXP
LORES
  • Storytelling: Creepy Ghost Stories
    Rhetoric: The Art of the Taunt
    Race: Pycon
    Pycon: Eat Clay
MISCELLANEOUS
  • That was a delightful read and a very inventive way to utilize NPC's and skills in a fun scenario. It made me chuckle a few times. Well done. :)


Until Our Next Match,
-Perplexity, DS of Zeltiva
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Perplexity
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