Solo Of Blood and Mist

[Moritz Craven]

8 Summer 522

Stepping out from the dovecote once more, Moritz silently closed the door behind him before turning to see the outpost. Less harsh now that he was coming from the hot and humid Syka, moving into the hot and dry Outpost was not so bad as it was coming from Lhavit where he first visited the place.

Thinking back for a moment Moritz mind moved from one memory to another. Lhavit. His mother. The Manor where he had grown up... His instructor of combat... The school where he went to learn. And in the end to himself.

As he waved to the map man who seemed to always be at the entrance and whose name he once more had forgotten even if he knew the man and how he knew him, he tried to seem content but settled for a mild appearance of calm and average spirits. Of course outwardly he tended towards few displays others could read, even if inwardly he was a swamp of emotion. "Hello Moritz, back again. Well I know you don't need help with a map, but if you need to find anything specific let me know alright?"

Moritz nodded and agreed, for a moment feeling bad for not recalling his name when this man knew his. And unlike Moritz who needed to learn one map mans name, surely many people went through the outpost. And yet he had taken the time and remembered Moritz. Yes he was a bit odd and perhaps distinctive, but he among many had been remembered. But then he felt less bad as he knew that he knew the man, it was just his name escaping him. And so far he had managed to get around calling him by name and making ti clear he did not know his name.

Forgetting names though simply reminded him of his mother, and the times she had scolded him for not recalling someone of imports name. He tended to know where he knew people from, just not by name. Still... With his mother coming up in his thoughts so much Moritz figured he perhaps was in a bit of a mood and focused on his family.

With that in mind he looked about and noticed the fountain not too far from the entrance, and the board near it. With a wave and quick goodbye Moritz headed over, to it, looking about. It did not take long to see that it was clearly a message board. Seeing the notes, some of family members reaching out, Moritz wondered if his mother had left him anything. He had not heard a word from her since leaving home, and besides running into someone who knew him from Lhavit when he was little who also knew his mother also knew nothing about how she was doing. Did she care how she was? Was she thinking of him? She had yet to really reach out at all or check in. No notes. No letters. She was not the warmest of mothers, but he had hoped to at least hear something from her.

With that in mind Moritz began perusing the board, hoping to find something from his mother on it. Though, he admitted, it was not all that likely.

WC: 539

[Moritz Craven]

Looking over the papers and things posted on the board, Moritz worked his way through it all methodically. First he scanned it quickly, hoping to perhaps find his mothers handwriting and to recognize it. After a few quick passes of this though he gave up and began scanning the notes one by one.

He did not read the entire thing, mostly skimming, looking for key words, his name or his mothers, and who was signing off on the note. This he worked row by row scanning each piece one at a time. His eyes almost leapt a few times when he thought he saw a familiar word, but in the end it was something else entirely. A different Madeira. A different mother and son... And not Moritz but Morty. He had not even known that was a name, but apparently it was and his mother wanted to remind him to pick up some special cream...

With a sigh he let go the last few vestiges of hope he had before, and realized there was nothing here for him. At the same time he did not entirely blame her. Did she even see him as a proper son? He had seen nothing to indicate that. She wanted him to not leave. To come back. To not do this or that... No, all she really wanted was for him to be a master spiritist like she was, something he knew he was no where near being.

Was he even a proper Craven by most's standards? Probably not. His soulmist was weak when he made it, and he could barely ward off a ghost. Of course, thinking on that, he knew he had not really been practicing much.

Wearing just his button up suit and sandals and a pack with some common things and his money pouch Moritz thought about items that might be of use for studying ghosts and his Spiritism abilities. The simplest seemed to be to make some soulmist, practice over time would surely improve his abilities if he kept at it. And practice he had not been doing, unlike his martial skills. Should he perhaps take some time today to work on that? Take some endeavors in the world of dealing with ghosts and such. What did he need? The first thing that came to mind was the mortar thing he had used before, crushing up things. that could certainly be of use in making soulmist. And if he was going to be making it more regularly then owning his own was a good idea.

With that settled Moritz turned and headed towards the bazaar, the familiar well worn path easy enough to find. It was only once he arrived that he knew how tricky finding one thing would be, and in the end asked a Keiss for aid.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for a mortar and pestle. The type for grinding things."

The Keiss was happy to oblige, giving him some simple directions he could follow to get to that area. Head that way... Past four rows... Then make a left... Go down that about five rows... Then turn... And... There. Mentally repeating this in his head Moritz headed off, eager to acquire something that would help in his craft and make some positive steps in improving his abilities his mother so wanted him to work on and master.

WC: 561

[Moritz Craven]

Moritz followed along the directions as best he could, making each turn and counting out rows and columns and stalls. One, two, three, four, then turn this way... And then... What was it... Ah, five more rows in this direction... Before turning... Here was a large booth full of crockery of some type... Then a turn at that spot... Following along this area he noticed a smell on the air, strong and sharp like it was invading his nostrils. One person had a set of glass items in shapes he had never seen before. Another person seemed to have some odd plants being pickled or something. Seeped? He was unsure. Eventually though he did find the place that seemed to have what he needed, a stall being manned by a burly but short woman with burns on her arms showing large weals.

Looking a bit more closely this stall seemed to have some stone and clay items, though he did not specifically see what he wanted. But still, it was close enough, and so he decided to ask.

"Excuse me, do you have a mortar and pestle for sale? I've been trying to find it, but most of the stalls seem to have odd things I have not seen before..."

After thinking for a few moments the woman nodded and went through a wooden chest below her stall, rooting around before coming out with a smaller case. Inside of that was several mortar and pestles packaged separately. Taking out one of the tiny club like things the woman smiled shortly before meeting Moritz eyes in a stern glare. "One gold miza. And a lot of these people are selling goods used in philtering and herb craft, some of it used not new, and some processing the herbs and things, so that is probably the smell you noticed."

Moritz nodded along, philtering sounding vaguely familiar, and if nothing else familiar with the idea of herbs and things, though only vaguely as it being a thing and not at all how it worked really. Taking out the single gold Miza he passed it to the woman and nodded.

"Thank you, you have been of great help. I wish you well in your days."

The woman let out a cackling laugh and slapped Moritz slightly on the arm before handing him the item. Shaking her head as Moritz headed off her heard her say something about "kids" but he could not make out the rest of the sentence. Not really caring much Moritz shrugged and headed off, retracing his steps back to the entrance area. Down one, two, three... Then a turn... And then this way... And back... And by oh that booth from before! And then by that man lacing his boots... And... Out...

With a breath of relief Moritz stepped back out of the bazaar with his purchase stowed in his pack, deciding where to go next. It did not take him long to decide to head to the courtyard restaurant with the open roof he often visited, though he expected at this time of the day not many would be eating. In truth though he preferred this and usually aimed to eat at the off times.

Purchase :

Mortar and Pestle 1 gm

WC: 536

[Moritz Craven]

Heading into the Cantina once more, Moritz waved at the familiar woman who served the food. Returning her genuine smile Moritz waited a few moments before Mela waved at the empty seats and for him to find a place to sit before heading off with a serving tray. Not too busy it appeared only one or two tables had patrons at the moment, one who she shortly brought out a tray of things to, and the other that seemed to be done eating but was still talking among their group.

Finding a table a bit away in an empty area Moritz settled into his seat, waiting a bit before Mela came back with a cup of water to set before him. "The usual Moritz? Make yourself comfortable." With a nod Moritz responded, reaching into his pack and pulling out the mortar and pestle he had just bought.

"Yes, and I was hoping to make some soulmist like before. I've got this, but could you bring me a clean knife?"

With a grin and a shake of her head at Moritz odd requests the woman rushed off, putting in his order it seemed and explaining what he was up to. It would not be the first time he had made soulmist here. With how in stride they took it he assumed other spiritists had frequented the place. Or perhaps he had explained things before? He could not recall, it having been awhile since he first made it there.

While he waited Moritz looked around the place, checking out the other patrons. There was a small group of people with drinks but no food who appeared to be settling in. One was a tall woman who could likely dwarf even Moritz height who had dark green hair. Die? Or perhaps she simply had odd hair coloring like his own? Another table had a pair of men who were just digging into their food which seemed to be some kind of meat heavy platter.

Shortly after this point Mera came back out with a smile and a tray which she brought to Moritz. On it was his usual plate of vegetable kebabs upon a bed of rice and some sauce to the side that he had confirmed was also plant based.

"Thank you, I am sure it will be as great as usual! Oh, I cook at work sometimes, and I actually got to make some kebabs! Though they were not quite as good as the ones here, but still... Maybe I'll get better in time with it. And thanks for the help."

Next to his plate was a clean cloth with a small sharp but clean knife within. Careful not to touch it just yet Moritz eyed his food and took up a mouthful of rice with a fork and savored it while letting his mind wander of the work to come.

WC: 480

[Moritz Craven]

Once he had eaten a few mouthfuls of the rice, one with a bit of sauce mixed in, Moritz carefully counted out his skewers and the items on them. He needed at least three sources of food, and it looked like one skewer had enough diverse plants on it to work. Emptying it off into the bowl of the mortar he counted off the items. One, an onion. Two, some kind of... Potato? three, some pineapple. And four, some kind of yellow fruit thing he could not name but which had a somewhat bland but sweet taste. With that and a small scoop of the sauce for flavor Moritz began mixing it all up with the small club. Then he began to mash it, circling and moving up and down and trying to pulp the entire thing. He did this for a short bit before deciding to let it all cool and returning to the rest of the food in the meantime.

In short order, before the bowls food even cooled, he had downed the rest. One by one he nibbled and chewed off the other skewers, tasting each one before he ground it down and swallowed it. Then he went on to the next, and the next, until it was all gone. He also took up some more of the rice and some sauce and finished about half before finally returning to his mortar.

Now serious he mixed and crushed with earnest vigor, keeping at it as his arms began to ache. He kept at it until all of it was an oddly mixed pulp, and then kept on going even after that until none of the parts were distinct.

Only then did he draw back one of his sleeves, take out the clean knife, and carefully choose a spot he had been shown before which was not dangerous. Not making a deep cut but just enough to let a small flow of blood out he made his incision, and then tilted his hand and arm to let it flow... After enough had entered he covered the small wound with the clean cloth and then used his other hand to continue mixing the pulped substance.

Once the blood was well mixed in Moritz mixed it a bit more, carefully checking his small incision to see he had stopped bleeding. Still he was careful to avoid moving it too much for fear of reopening it, and instead focused on the material in the mortar.

Grabbing up a large spoon used for the sauce he believed, he dolloped up a big load and hefted it into his mouth. Instead of chewing and swallowing Moritz just chewed, focusing on his intent.

As usual the hardest part was the transition. Focusing his mind and closing his eyes he pictured his djed. A stream running through a grassy plain off a mountain... And then he pictured the material in his mouth as the recipient of that djed, a small off shooting creak that was dry... Unlike his Pathfinding where he felt he was powering the vision with the djed, here he felt he was more... Altering the material, by means of the djed passing by. A circuit within him, looking back into the stream but conferring the intent by its similar scent to his djed. His blood... The djed water... In his head they had a similar scent, and he could connect the two by it. Willing it. Changing it.

In his mind he pictured the material as he chewed it. Pictured it slowly changing from the pulpy mess to a greyish white soulmist appearance with an off white glow to it. A bit cold. Detached. Similar to what was found on a ghost.

Each time he pictured the djed funneling and channeling along in the circuit he willed those changes on it. Again. And again. And once more.

And in time his intent and vision and focus and will made it reality, and he felt a bit of coolness within his mouth which was odd. Normally things did not get cooler after he started chewing them.

Reaching out for a clean bowl across the table he spewed out the contents of his mouth... And found soulmist. It was by no means strong, or overly appealing, but it was quite clearly soulmist.

Feeling mentally tired from his focus and endeavors Moritz sat for a bit, just enjoying seeing his finished product. Inadequate, yes. But still improving and that hair better than the time before.

WC: 750

[Moritz Craven]

Grade Award!

Name:Moritz Craven
XP Award:
Land Navigation 2
Meditation 1
Planning 1
Socialization 1
Spiritism 1
Lores:
Spiritism: Making a kebab based soulmist recipe
Penalties & Awards: Purchase prior added to ledger

Notes: N/A