Completed Dining With The Dead [Moritz]

[Alice Weaver]

“Sometimes I can get caught up on a word, yes. It feels as if it is on the tip of your tongue but will not come out. Everyone has been there. The feeling goes away as you become more proficient with a language and use it more. Eventually, you can just take a very educated guess and more or less get the point across.” She assured the Kelvic that yes, everyone has forgotten a word and stumbled by using the wrong one. But with a little guesswork and a few prodding questions, the meaning could be understood and the conversation could continue on.

Apparently, she was wrong in the fact that more experienced Spiritist used more blood. But it was just a guess on her part with no base knowledge so it made sense she was wrong. She did note however that Moritz missed her small jest, not noticing her small smile or tone that indicated she was joking. Too focused on the new item and foods in front of him to look up while lecturing on Spiritism. With a small frown, she corrected him, not wanting to offend the young spiritist because he missed the joke.

“Moritz. I was joking. I’d be glad to use anything you happen to make. It would be a good learning experience for us both. If you’d look up from your new toy you would have noticed that.” She rolled her eyes with a small shake of her head and a grin while listening to him continue to lecture about soulmist creation. Saying that what he is doing isn’t all that different from a cake but they need three different items of food all from different sources. For example, using beef and milk from a cow would not work for the creation of soulmist. Well, that seemed...arbitrary.

“So all that matters is that they are from three different sources and you just need three items that they are combined into one thing? Seem simple if a bit arbitrary that a ghost’s soul can be emulated by a few eggs and a rack of lamb…”

Her mention of Maderia seem to catch him off guard and she watched his relaxed form stiffen. Uh oh. Did I hit a nerve? But her concern soon was abated by his next statement that Maderia wasn’t someone who wronged him or was perhaps competition but his mother of all things!

“Oh. You two are...nothing alike. Physically or personality-wise. I would have never guessed you two were related even if you lined up next to one another.” She had a bit of a wide eye look to her as she applied what Moritz told her about who his mother is as a person to the conversation she had with Maderia. Casting it in a new light before she shoved it to the side. She’d wonder about that later. Madeira was nice enough and that’s all the matter at this point though she would strive to be just a tad bit more cautious with their next meeting. Moritz’s previous words about his mother destroying people just for the slightest bit more benefit to her family at the forefront of her mind.

But she digressed and turned back to matters at hand as Moritz was going through the process of creating soulmist. Not something she wished to miss. Leaning closer in as he first mashed the rice into the pestle along with the previously added vegetables, grinding until a fine paste was made. He then reached for the knife and pressed it to a soft area of his arm and parted his own flesh to let his lifeblood flow free. Squeezing a few times to stimulate the blood flow he directed it into the bowl, mixing with the mashed produce already there. He then wrapped his wound and mixed the blood to create a soupy, bloody vegetable paste which he popped into his mouth and began chewing. The tangy and iron taste of blood flickered sympathetically across Alice’s tongue as she pulled a screwed up face at the sudden and unwelcome taste. Now the kelvic seemed to be in deep concentration so she decided to hold her tongue until he was done with whatever internal magic he was attempting.

[Moritz Craven]

At the explanation of the joke as Alice called it Moritz simply shrugged, not really sure what she meant. Now lying was also... A joke? He did not really get it, particularly after all their other talks about deception, and found it a bit odd in their current setting to try such a lie in... Humor.

"I suppose, I'm not sure why the three sources is needed. Perhaps to give a wide enough base of djed? Or something like that. Not totally sure how that would apply, but if its all from the one maybe its... Too similar? Pure supposition, but perhaps that's it or something like that. On that respect I'm just repeating what I was told, as I've said I don't have much experience in actually making the stuff. It can apparently though be more than three, its just a minimum of three."

"Yeah not sure, I don't think I look much like my father either, not that I've spent much time with him to know what he looks like well. Maybe its to do with me being a kelvic, my father is the one who was the kelvic, and a lot of what I look like comes from my kelvic side and its appearance... So perhaps that is also a factor in my case."

"I saw more of my mother than my father, but she was working too, so I suppose I was raised as much by house and the people who visited and the other ghosts wandering about, as much as by her. I think you would like house, it has a odd sense of humor as well. Although sometimes its hard to tell, I mean it being a house it can't really talk like a person. But I suppose actions speak louder."

Once their discussion was done Moritz turning to his soulmist making process, which occupied his mouth and made it tricky to try and speak.

Continuing to chew the soulmist material, still messy in his mouth and not well tasting, Moritz focused in his mind on the task. Turning it into actual soulmist, something that could be fed to a ghost. That change that was by its nature magic, beyond just the mixing of the ingredients.

Breathing in through his nostrils while continuing to chew, focusing in his mind on the bond of the messy gunk in his mouth to him. Its connection to him. Its being a part of him. It being in a sense him. Grasping at it through its bond in blood to him.

Slowly he pictured the colors blending, the rainbow hew within his mental outline slowly sapping into the patch of stuff in his mouth. Slowly mixing and melding and turning into another part of him. Another bit of him. Separate but integrate, a part of him while also distinct. And then with a mental stroke he pictured the bit that was him in his mouth splitting off, like a limb hacked away. Pictured its separation and transference, its changing, into soulmist.

At first he did not notice anything, but then he felt the slight coolness on his tongue. Grabbing a small empty bowl in front of him, clean as it had not yet been used, he half spit and half spilled the substance now in his mouth into the bowl. A weak off white substance, not much of it in truth, slowly oozed out of his mouth along with spittle. It was by no means a clean transfer, neither was it the voluminous expulsion Madeira had shown him the first time in class. If nothing else though it had clearly taken on some of t he properties of soulmist, now being an off white hue, somewhat cool to the touch, giving off a slight glow, and somewhere in between a solid and a gas. Similar in some ways to soulmist, but a weak almost grey variant at that.

Taking a few moments to catch his breath Moritz realized no more was going to come out, and let out a sigh. It had been quite troubling to do what he had, mentally draining even if not physically besides the leaked blood, and without much to show. But still perhaps better than nothing. And there was still more of the mix, not having been processed yet, sitting in the mortar. It had the blood mixed in, which meant no more blood letting would be needed, but he found he was not looking forward to making some more right away.

Waving a hand over it Moritz motioned to Alice, giving his permission verbally so that if she wished she could absorb it.

"Go ahead if you want, its yours."

From his understanding without that permission nothing would happen, and Alice would be unable to take in or absorb the material. Not truly eating, more like... The reverse of a drop of brightly colored liquid spilled into clear water. A lesser substance sucked into the greater overall soulmist that covered Alice's entire being. Or so it had looked the last time he saw it "consumed" by a ghost.

With that done Moritz picked up a skewer and began working his way through the cooked vegetables on it, wanting to clear out the taste left from his work.

WC: 875

[Alice Weaver]

Noting Moritz's apparent lack of understanding at her jest she made a note to endeavor to teach him out the realm of sarcasm. He was sure to get a kick out of it with its lie but not lie. Telling a truth but having an underlying meaning that was typically meant to cause harm though not in this case. But that was for another time after she wasn’t as tired as she was from keeping the appearance of physicality to her form. This extended marathon of keeping the form was however doing wonders for her mind on how to maintain it. The extended time allowed her to take a closer look and begin to manage the flow of the soulmist, pulling back some of the unnecessary amounts and kept it to a slow trickle, instead of packing it all to the edges. That did nothing but cause the material to be consumed faster for no greater effect. No matter how much she pumped into her form it would be nothing but an illusion and it was folly to attempt otherwise it seemed. Materialization was not to physically interact with the world but for the physical world to interact with her. An important distinction that would be important to always remember.

The insight, well more conjecture on his part, on the creation of soulmist did make sense. Three sources are needed possibly to get a variance in the djed it had? It wasn’t an awful leap of logic she assumed, especially when she put it into terms that were more familiar to her.

“I guess that makes sense. It's like if you were weaving a blanket and you wanted to make a pattern. If you only used white thread no pattern would emerge. But if you use purple, gold, and white then you could make something complex and new emerge from the sum of its parts? I’m aware that’s a horrible simplification because you could make a pattern from just two colors but that's what it linked to in my mind.” She shrugs with a slight shake of her head and a faint smile before it faded as Moritz enlightened her on his childhood.

She could have already guessed his parents were just a tad absentee with the way he talked about them as well as the fact that Madeira seemed to always be out and about as he said before. But the father being out of the picture and the mother constantly out working or doing whatever else she did, it made sense why Moritz was...missing a few things that one with his intelligence should have quickly picked up despite his age.

“House? What do you mean the houses raised you? Also, how do the slats of wood have humor? And your mother just left you alone with a few ghosts? That seems irresponsible. And yes. I am very aware of the irony of the situation right now…” She adds with a dry tone. “Calling your mother irresponsible for leaving you alone with a ghost while we both enable another meeting alone with a ghost. Anyways, circling back. The house can talk and...move? I would assume as much since you said its ‘actions speak louder than words?’”

She then realized she was speaking while Moritz was deep in concentration, jaw rocking bath and forth as he concentrated on the iron-rich paste he placed within his maw. Nostrils flaring and eyes distant he hovered in a sort of meditation-like state before moving and spitting something back into the bowl along with a mess of bloody pulp. She leaned forward to see what that other quick flash was, peering into the bowl and seeing an off white substance. Trapped between a gas and liquid releasing a cool and similar feeling, soulmist. Moritz waved a hand and gave her verbal permission to take it as he went back to eating. Before absorbing whatever soulmist he produced, a little investigating was in order...and it would give her time to overcome the tad bit of revulsions she had of basically absorbing someone's vomit…

Wrapping the bowl with a strand of her own soulmist she floated it in front of her set it down and tipped it back and forth. Watching the ethereal material run along with the bowl like thick water, clinging together in one lump. Just looking at it she could tell it was low quality. The color was off and the scent it was producing wasn’t anywhere near the bounty that Maderia’s gave off. Giving it a large waft, it smelled faintly of grass and open pastures after a long rain. Madeira’s didn’t smell like that at all. Her’s smelled of the sweetest fruits and honey. Perhaps the scent varied from Spiritist to Spiritist? That could be interesting.

The investigation done she lightly tapped a finger against the substance and thread a bit of her own shroud into it, commanding it to become hers as it lept to obey as it was rapidly pulled up through her arm before hitting her core and blooming out. The weaker material radiating out only a few inches from her core, lacking in both volume and power but it still felt nice as the spirit gave a gentle sigh.

“Thank you, Moritz. I do feel better now and your soulmist has a wonderful base feel to it. Windswept plains and fresh dew. I’m sure once you get stronger spirits will be beating at your door to get the chance to make some their own.”

[Moritz Craven]

Moritz shrugged in response to Alice's weaving explanation rather than saying anything. He felt like he sort of got the concept, but trying to understand her way of understanding made him understand less, and so did not feel a need to understand it fully. After all she was it seemed agreeing with him, just in her own words that were somewhat confusing.

Her thoughts on Moritz personality and way he was had some merit, but in truth Moritz was more his own odd person unrelated to his parents or their absence. Those who met either often commented on how odd Moritz was, and how different in his acting and thought processes to others about their shared domicile. It was hard to say if he would have been different had he been given those things more, but there was no way to know now.

At her question of his house and its personality or humor Moritz shook his head, a small smile on his lips.

"I often forget most buildings are asleep all the time. Or maybe my house is just awake, and different from others. I'm not really sure to be honest, I grew up in this one and so am used to it. But all the other buildings I have met are either ignoring me, or aren't aware like my house. Considering the number of structures I'm beginning to think the second is more likely, as surely not that many different buildings would be of such a mood."

"My house, Infinity Manor, its not just a house. Maybe it was once, but its... Alive. Aware. Its limited by its structure, so it can't talk, which is what I just said, but it can communicate in different ways. Talking isn't the only way you can communicate. Actions can also communicate. Opening a door for you when you don't have hands to do so, remodeling a room, building a window where there was a blank wall, those sorts of things. Its not just the ghosts doing stuff, though there are plenty of those, its alive of its own right. Although I don't think ghosts would be quite so resourceful to build a new room or turn a wall into a window..."

Lost in thought for a moment Moritz stirred, continuing his response.

"And I wasn't just raised by the house or ghosts, there were people about as well. Some longer than others. And then I began going to school and things while I was still young, to learn other things around other children. From my teachers. And my combat instructor. I was raised so to speak by many methods and people and things."

Once the soulmist was offered Alice seemed to take some time inspecting and appraising it. Which Moritz felt was fair enough, seeing as by looks alone it was not the finest of soulmist. If nothing else it was fully transmuted into soulmist, and not some odd half changed thing, though the type or substance of that soulmist was... Poor, to say the least.

Done with her observations Alice took in the offered soulmist, touching it with her etherael body and pulling it inside of her. It dropped into her body like a bucket down a well, and then spread out from that point at her center. Not very noticeably, due to the small amount, but still something.

Then he heard her give off a small sigh, something he was fairly certain he had seen other ghosts do when absorbing some soulmist that had been offered. If nothing else the action of taking in soulmist did seem to be... Pleasant. At least for a ghost and its limited sensations. Which meant that other things would likely be unpleasant, though perhaps not in the same way as pain or other injuries to a physical body.

Canting his head Moritz puzzled over her last comment, unsure of her meaning.

"Why would ghosts beat on my door? Wouldn't they just go through it? Besides, being rude and trying to barge in wouldn't do much good, since it requires active permission to allow a ghost to absorb soulmist made by a spiritist."

Frowning Moritz thought back, darting about through the conversation.

"Although I am unsure if we ever actually got to the main topic, or discussed it much, for which we planned to meet to begin with. Although at this point we have been talking for awhile... I might need to head home soon, don't want to be gone for too long."

WC: 749

[Alice Weaver]

Her take on magic did not seem to jive with Moritz all that much as he just simply shrugged at it and asked no further questions. Which indicated that he got it but just did not see any merit in pursuing it further. All very fair. Her reiteration of what he told her was crude and very imperfect with linking it to a past experience that had absolutely no background in magic.

What was a shocking change of pace for the conversation was when she questioned about the house a smile, genuine and had a depth of emotion behind it, appeared on the kelvics face. It seemed to be a happy memory for Moritz as he smiled and grinned before but it never touched on anything deeper. The warmth at how he talked about a simple building, that was apparently not so simple, made it all the more fascinating and held the ghost rapt.

His home, Infinity Manor (what a novel name), was apparently ‘awake’ no longer sleeping like the other buildings around it. It was aware and tried to talk and communicate with its inhabitants in ways that did not rely on verbal communication. Examples included opening a door, creating a new room, place a window where there were none, and a whole host of other things that indicated a living, thinking creature. The idea that Moritz put forward in her mind of a ghost floating there with a saw and hammer raring to craft a window in an empty wall caused a smile to flash across her features.

“Yes, I doubt it was a ghost. Unless it was perhaps a very perturbed carpenter that had a vendetta against poorly lit homes. So the home can do that on its own? It’s alive? That’s quite interesting if also a bit inconvenient. How ironic would that be if your own home kicked you out because you picked a shade of green it despised?”

Moritz also spoke and revealed more about how he was raised to the gentle probing spirit. He said that he wasn’t just raised by an apparently sentient and self-aware house along with the dead that clung to the material world but a whole village of people as well. The young man was passed from person to person, house to ghost, and the like, spending time with them before moving on to the next it seemed. That actually made a lot of sense when she thought about it. Why else would Moritz be so willing and persistent to hear so many sides of a story then draw his own conclusions when most would be content with a simple answer? That might just be because he was constantly exposed to a plethora of ideas and questioning methods when growing up. Producing the Mortiz everyone would know and love that would ask you questions till the sunset and rose the following day. It seemed to work out well for the young man as much as Alice had the standard thought in her head that everyone should grow up with two parental figures in their lives.

Her internal train of thought was interrupted by Moritz’s question. One that she should have probably expected but it still took her off guard.

‘Why would a ghost beat on my door? Wouldn’t they just go through it…”

Alice let out a sigh, slumped her shoulders, and gave a slight shake of her head.

“Moritz… it’s a figure of speech. It’s not meant to be taken literally. It means that you will be popular with them and they would seek you out. Not that they would actually pound on your door. It’s like the saying “It’s raining cats and dogs.” I don’t actually mean that canines and felines are falling from the sky. I just mean that it’s raining hard. Understand?”

It was then both realized they have been here for quite an amount of time and managed to get sidetracked from the main topic of their meeting but had no less of an informative conversation.

“I do think we got a tad distracted...but it was still a lovely conversation I think and I hope it was enjoyable to you as well Moritz. I do not wish to keep you away from your home either. From what I understand it might actually get worried about you and I don’t wish to give a literally building anxiety. I’m not sure when we’ll meet again we could always plan something eventually again if you want...wait! I have an idea.”

An idea sparking in her head she looks at the bowl in front of her and at the bloody mess within it, scrapping it out with a bit of effort on her part she slides the bowl back across to Moritz. Sitting within the bowl is a finger-sized chunk of the spirit’s shrouds.

“You gave me some of yours so it’s only fair I give you some in return. Besides, I know that you Spiritist can do fun things with it when you get more control over whatever it is you do...if Maderia’s memories aren’t lying to me that is.”

With her gift given Alice would wait for Moritz to get out any last thoughts before watching him go. Accepting any dates he might want to meet up again for without much hesitation before hanging about the table for a bit, sitting there thinking about really what she is going to do with herself before blinking away into the Outpost proper.

WC:916

[Moritz Craven]

Moritz considered Alice's idea for a moment, concentrating as usual on it and related possibilities, but in the end shook his head. He did suppose craftsman did die, and some became ghosts... But the idea of one going about redoing houses seemed unlikely. Plus if it was a ghost his mother would have detected it. Unlikely to say the least.

"Probably not. Though it doesn't only do windows, it does other things as well to the house. But all in all, not something a ghost would be doing. As for kicking us out... I suppose if it wanted to it could, but well I doubt it would. I've lived there my whole life, and don't think it'd do that at this point. I think it pays more attention to the goings on than anyone else in the house, including my mother. Although we don't really paint, so that isn't likely to be an issue. if the house wants to be a different color it'll work that out and make the changes itself. Actually... I can't quite recall what color it is. More than one? Different on the inside and outside? I honestly haven't really paid attention."

Regarding Alice's comment explaining her earlier words about ghosts beating on doors, it turned out she was simply meaning that the ghosts would find him... Popular? He was not quite sure how that was meant to mean that, why would someone bang on someones door because they liked them? Or wanted them to do something for them? That would surely mean interruptions, and mean less time for doing whatever they wanted him or the person to do. Moritz was fairly certain there was no logic to the statement, from his own analysis at least, and decided to just accept the statement as commonly said even if it did not make sense.

"I think if someone was banging on my door to get my attention, I'd just say they were rude, but whatever. Some people say some weird stuff that doesn't make any sense... I doubt they'll start making sense now, or logic checking what they are saying. Though raining cats and dogs... Your saying that it means lots of rain, but that seems a rather violent statement its based on. All the gushing blood from the dogs and cats splattering on the ground by falling from a great height to mean lots of liquid, seems a bit dark of a saying. Wouldn't it just be easier and less... Morbid... To say its raining really hard?"

Moritz perhaps there took a wrong turn in his understanding of the saying as Alice explained it, but if nothing else was trying to accept Alice's stated odd statements as meaning what she said not what they meant.

"Yes, the conversation was... Entertaining I suppose. That's what people say right? I don't really get that either, I talk to learn things not to be entertained."

As Alice broke off and moved from speech to action Moritz watched, though quickly became confused.

First she took the bowl he had made his things in, and swept it out. Then she had made some soulmist from her being seperate out, and placed it inside... But Moritz was unsure why, what he was supposed to do with it, or how he was to bring it home as asked.

"Uh... Couple things. Why did you give me some of your soulmist? Is that supposed to be used for something? If so, what? I don't think I've gotten that far in my training that I'd know what to do with it, let alone how to do it. And do you know how long it'll last? I know soulmist I make doesn't last long, but then its... Whats the word... Artificial. Whereas yours is real. But any clue on how long it lasts normally?"

"Also, I don't actually have anything to put it in, to take it home. And this isn't my container... And I'd rather not go stealing random containers."

Looking about for a moment Moritz thought, remembering where they were.

"How about this. We meet again next season, early in winter... Say... The morning of the tenth. And we could do some more shopping like last time. Perhaps practice our possession and being possessed. And we could buy some containers. I should probably have some since I'm a spiritist. And maybe a mortar and pestle as well, for use in grinding and stuff."

If Alice accepted Moritz would run off as well, quickly making his was out with a wave goodbye before heading home.

WC: 760

[Alice Weaver]

The house sounded fascinating in all honesty. Not only could it change and create windows within itself but it could do a whole host of other things that all warped and change its internal structure. Though her joke about the possibility that the house might throw them out had no real bearing on reality. The house, from the little she heard, seemed almost to be a guardian of those that live inside of it with Moritz’s assertion that it paid more attention to what the going on in the local area which was odd. Considering she’d assume a house wouldn’t be all that observant with the whole lack of eyes deal. Terribly inconvenient for keeping track of things. Though she supposed she was applying mundane logic to a very magical thing. Unless, as Mortiz said, all houses are sentient and only a select few are awake...but that’s was not a happy thought. Best to hope that the home is the exception to the rule of being alive. Else she had some serious apologizing to the home she lived in for the terrible wall tattoos she gave it….

His comment on not knowing the color of his own home also lent itself to her idea that the house can do a very quite large variety of things and if it was constantly changing its color that would make sense of why he doesn’t know what color his own walls are. Or, and this is very likely, it is just a Moritz-ism and he never saw a reason to remember the color of his own home.

Now, she was expecting the conversation to wind down and the two to go their own separate ways but a defiant Moritz-ism happened.

Though raining cats and dogs... You’re saying that it means lots of rain, but that seems a rather violent statement it’s based on. All the gushing blood from the dogs and cats splattering on the ground by falling from a great height to mean lots of liquid seems a bit dark of a saying. Wouldn't it just be easier and less... Morbid... To say it’s raining really hard?

Well, that thought was going to live with her for the rest of her existence. Which may be a long, long time. She had to take a moment to collect herself as her confused mind threw up quite the image of dogs and cats plummeting from the sky like furry meteorites. Slamming into the ground and bursting like overripe ticks, showering those unlucky enough to be near the point of impact with viscera and blood of a beloved pet. A shudder ran through her ethereal body, looking like a ripple on a disturbed pond as she gapped her mouth only to shut it and furrow her eyebrows a few times as she tried to think of a response.

“Wha-? Moritz...no. Just...no.” Was what she decided on with a shake of her head and a large sigh. “I do not think the person who made the saying put that much thought into it I would think. But I can firmly, and with confidence, say that it’s not describing a rain of furry bodies exploding into blood to simulate a heavy rainfall. It is just a fun way to describe the rainfall. ‘Look, Jones, it raining cat’s and dogs out there!’” She mocked out in an exaggerating fashion. “That is much more fun than saying ‘Look, Jones, its raining really hard out there.’” She deadpans for added effect. “See? A figure of speech is not meant to be more accurate but to make a conversion less dry and boring to be a part of…”

That...misunderstanding hopefully cleared and never to happen again she continued on before recognizing Moritz’s another source of confusion. It targeted at the bowl that contained a bit of her soulmist. He voiced his confusion about why she gave him some of her shroud and how he was going to travel with it.

“I thought it was a trusting gesture with me giving you a part of what keeps me anchored as well as an exchange since you gave me some soulmist so it only seemed fair? But I guess that gesture got a little muddle huh. And I assumed you would know something to do with it...something loosly about calling a ghost to you? I thought it could help us meet up again, anyway. I figured I’d have a better chance of finding something that is me than just wandering around and waiting to bump into you? Also, I’d hope it doesn’t fade else that would be quite the issue for me later down the line.” At his comment about not wanting to commit theft of the bowl, she smiled sheepishly. “Ah. I was hoping you had something on you as I have a distinct lack of pockets or location to store something as a vial…This was very poorly planned spur of the moment thought on my end isn’t it?” She said, still holding that sheepish smile as she tilts her head slightly.

Maybe jumped the arrow a bit there. Let’s not involve the poor man in theft, shall we? She gently scolded herself internally. She needed to be better at remembering that just because people had pockets did not mean they filled them with their entire lives belongings to tote around.

But the World seemed willing to take some sort of pity on the poor spirit as Moritz, always the logical one, offered a solution. On the tenth in the morning, they should meet up to take another crack at possession and buying supplies. Him quoting the fact that he needs some spiritist stuff as well as the mortal and pestle for assistance with his practice. The simple tool had really caught the young kelvic’s attention is quite a cute way. Alice took a second to respond, thinking if she had anything pressing that might come up and she couldn’t find anything so she so no reason to not accept Moritz’s offer.

“I would be glad to spend more time with you, Moritz. Now, I’ve kept you far too long and you said you needed to get home. So scurry along now.” She finished with a smile and a small hand motion waving the kelvic off.

She would then stay drifting in her chair at the cafe for a short while. Mulling over what she and Moritz talked about and now recognizing how much of a wealth of information the kevlic represented as well as all the strange things that surround him. A living house being one of the main contenders. Just who were these Cravens? Being a final thought before she blinked away into the Outpost.

WC:1126

[Alric Lysane]

Your Grades

Alice Weaver

Skills

Materialization – 5
Soulmist Projection – 5


Lores

Ghosts: Stick Around until The Work’s Done
Ghosts: Superstitions Suck
Idealism: A Tragically Underrated Commodity
Kelvics: Basic Facts
Lhavit: Infinity Manor
Materialization: A Hand
Moritz: A Fledgling Spiritist
Moritz: Madeira’s Son
Purpose: To Overcome One’s Own Obstructions
Soulmist: Ingredients
Soulmist: Properties
Spiritism: Basic Facts
Sunberth: Not For Syliras’ Girls
Sunberth: Street Social Contract
The Outpost: Courtyard Cantina
The Outpost: Library
Trust: A Hundred Little Actions
Truth: Sometimes Not The Best Policy


Moritz Craven

Skills

Interrogation – 5
Logic – 5
Meditation – 2
Observation – 5
Philosophy – 3
Rhetoric – 5
Socialization – 5
Spiritism – 4


Lores

Alice Weaver: Illogical Ghost
Bandages: Uses
Cravens: Broken Family
Ghosts: Fascinatingly Irritable At Times
Ghosts: Why Linger On?
Lhavit: City Of Balance
Medeira: Strong-arming Mother
Mortar & Pestle: Uses
Philosophy: Idealism
Spiritism: Ghost Sense
Spiritism: Making Soulmist
Sunberth: City Of Chaos
The Outpost: Courtyard Cantina
The Outpost: Kalskan Fountain
Truth: It Is Truth