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Ghost Walk - Jigano - 08-21-2019
He had walked a round in the Underground, singing Ludo's song and carrying the soulcatcher lantern. He had not coaxed any lost spirits to him then, but it was a large place and he had been interrupted by Kiada. He would go there again soon, to keep trying, he told himself. Tonight, however, he felt called by the open sky and the promise of frost on the wind. Deepfrost approached on snow-shrouded paws, and an eerie fog rolled across the Hollowed Grounds this night, the moon occasionally glowing down from above when the clammy mist thinned.
Should he have been out in that weather? Probably not. Rory worried when he did, but he had nearly lost his blight-fueled temper again with his gentle mate for no reason whatsoever, and Jigano had chosen to walk in solitude a while, leaving Isuma to comfort the farmer. He held his white lantern low, the light shaking unsteadily from the tremble in his hands as he picked his way through the ruins, an eerie, wordless song rising from his lips to wind through the broken buildings and shadowed falls of stone where houses had once stood. The sound of it calmed him, baseless anger fading to a quieter, more weary feeling as if his emotions were bleeding out of him, bleached by the moon and muffled by the fog.
His walking stick, a rough staff growing smoother with constant use as he grew increasingly uncertain about wielding his rapier, tapped out upon the stones as he used it to help him over piles of rubble in his wandering search for the lost and forgotten.
RE: Ghost Walk - Ashetta - 08-22-2019
A sleepless night. Surprise, surprise. Her limbs trembled as she padded through a shadowed alley, the dredges of adrenaline coursing out of her system with every clouded breath. She hadn't noticed or felt the cold when she fled from her sleep, doggedly chased by things that lived in her memory. It was an expected ritual now, and it helped in it's own way. Running until her breath was ragged, until her paws ached, until she felt every muscle tremble. Until she could feel every part of herself, this wolf's body that had never hurt or been hurt like that.
Ashe slowed her steps as she reached the end of the narrow avenue, golden eyes peering out into the silver mist from beneath a fallen pillar. She stopped entirely, ears pinning forward as she tilted her head, and her jaws clamped shut. Faintly, somewhere close, she heard it. A song. She couldn't discern any words, but the melody was both haunting and soothing.
Suspicion prickled along her inky black pelt, but curiosity itched worse. The she-wolf lowered her head and moved in pursuit of the sound. Her claws gripped at stone as she hauled herself up the slope of a collapsed wall, pulling up onto a rooftop and... there. Moving in the dark, there was a warm light--the source of the song. Ashe narrowed her eyes, and she padded after it, hopping nimbly from rooftop to rooftop, following it until they were on an old, broad avenue. The mist cleared enough for moonlight to break, washing the street in pale color, casting the man ahead in silver and revealing... a familiar head of white hair.
Before she really knew what she was doing, the wolf girl picked her way down off her rooftop, down to edge of the street. Her pawsteps were silent as she padded out into the open, ears forward as she followed after him a few paces. What was he doing out here? Her eyes strayed to his lantern as she listened to his song. [say]What are you singing?[/say] she softly called. If he'd turn, she would shift, standing still in the fog with her hand pulling at a thread in her old, tattered blue cloak, her fire-blue eyes keen and inquisitive on the Sage.
RE: Ghost Walk - Jigano - 08-22-2019
Ludo's song had a habit of calling lost souls... just not the souls that Jigano sought. The voice in his head was not entirely unexpected, though the owner of it was a surprise. Not Kiada or Amalia, neither Caiside nor Cera, but one he had yet to come to terms with as she underwent a change that he hoped was for the better. Hope, however, was not a surplus commodity as the seasons turned back towards Deepfrost, and the approaching Long Night...
As--shetta, he corrected his greeting with only a faint stumble, turning to face the wolf-become-woman as he continued to sing. It is a song for calling lost and wandering souls. A gift from Ludo, and a charge. He leaned on his staff, willing his fingers to stop their shaking with only partial success. Whether she had noticed or not in her wolf form, his scent had subtly changed from their last meetings, now bearing an earthier quality reminiscent of Ronin's. He watched her warily as the mists flowed slowly thicker overhead, the moonlight diffusing into greyness so that most of the light came once more from the white lantern. Held low as it was, it played eerily over both their faces, creating masks of dancing shadows that gave them both a ghoulish cast. Around was only silence, the mist muffling the sounds of fellow nighthunters and their prey as they danced their small dramas out amidst the rubble, hidden from human eyes.
What brings you out into the Ruins so late at night? Do you bring a message for me? He spoke with weary, wry humor but a flicker of suspicion might have made it through his cool courtesy. This time, however, he waited to hear what she had to say before he pounced in judgment on her former profession. This song is supposed to call to the dead, not to the living.
RE: Ghost Walk - Ashetta - 08-23-2019
Ashe's brows rose. Calling for lost souls? Her neck prickled just a bit, and her arms wrapped over themselves against the chill air snaking over her still sweat-damp skin. She had been summoned by his song, unable to resist it, and it was uncomfortably fitting. [say]"That's... noble,"[/say] she answered before biting the inside of her lip.
Mist and fog closed in around them once more, and her senses expanded on instinct, her sense of smell sharpening, her eyes bleeding just a little more gold. Jigano's scent was becoming rapidly familiar, but there was something... different. Off. Her nostrils flared gently, trying to pick it apart as his pale lantern became their only true source of light, the fog curling in ghostly wisps between the pair.
A half smile flickered on her face, huffing. [say]"No messages tonight, sage,"[/say] she answered. [say]"No work at all."[/say] In truth, she was struggling to figure out where to even begin on being a messenger now. In Northaven, the job had been waiting, assigned the position before she had even gone with second wave. Now it would take networking, a muscle she hadn't worked in some time.
She let out a heavy breath and stepped closer to a more appropriate range for conversation, her eyes drawn momentarily to his lantern. Typically she knew that light in the dark blinded her to whatever lay just outside of it. Tonight, it soothed some of the nerves still crackling under her skin. [say]"I don't sleep well,"[/say] she confessed. Not alone, anyways. [say]"Running helps, and I don't wake anyone if I'm in the ruins."[/say] She swallowed and looked out into the mist and fog, the dark shapes of crumbling stone just barely visible in the dark. [say]"Do you find lost souls often out here?"[/say]
RE: Ghost Walk - Jigano - 08-23-2019
Her choice of words almost surprised a slight chuckle from him, but he steadied his voice and raised his lantern a bit higher, slanting a coolly amused glance at the young woman. Not so noble as all that. But it is a task I asked to undertake, and I will do what I can to fulfill it. Something he had once thought he would do no matter what, before the scrabble over kingship had taught him differently. Now Edy's last words to him mingled with Ludo's reassurance and warning, a reminder to do better and be better.
No souls drifted towards them in the darkening mist, but even with as weary and prickly as he was these days he found Ashetta's presence less of an interruption than a welcome reminder of life in the world. It was easy to forget, walking the ruins in the dark and calling for the dead, and he did not begrudge her presence in the circle of lanternlight as she moved closer. He did raise a brow at hearing that no work had brought her out amidst the fallen stones and empty houses of ancient ghosts, and he followed her gaze to the light he held between them. The lantern was a strangely organic construction of curved wood and silvered scales reflecting a white flame up from the base. The flame itself burned without wick or fuel, seeming to rest on the reflective mirror beneath it, a steady light in the darkness.
Silence had been the right course, the former-assassin continuing, and the bard's curious brow smoothed down as she explained. Not sleeping seems a common affliction, he affirmed wryly. Even before his sickness he had not slept as much as he should. Now... well, it eluded him even when he chased it. He raised his head at her question, turning to scan the mists that had moved in more thickly around them so that even the closest buildings were half-shrouded, their edges softened and their decrepit state given an almost dream-like quality. Since I received the lantern I have not found any, he admitted reluctantly. But I have only begun to search in earnest recently. I suspect that Deepfrost and Long Night will bring a far greater test of the song's abilities, and the lantern's strength. He let his voice soften, the song fading a little as he looked back at the messenger who had no messages to deliver.
Have you seen them again, since last we met? he asked softly. Ludo or Mort?
RE: Ghost Walk - Ashetta - 08-26-2019
The lantern was raised higher as he deflected the notion of noble motives, and his face lost it's harsh shadows... or so she thought. Her eyes narrowed a fraction. He looked tired, more than something a sleepless night would wring from him. Was it worry that curled in her chest, for this man she barely knew?
She nodded with her own wry sort of smile---sleep evaded so many she knew. She had been among a minority once, and had become well known for being found on rooftops in the dead of night. Here in Caido, it seemed, she was no longer the odd one out, the half feral girl that couldn't face the demons in her sleep. Most people had them here. Most people had suffered. Even the Sage, it seemed.
She followed his gaze to the churning mists then, frowning just slightly. [say]"Deepfrost will be hard this year,"[/say] she agreed, her voice grim. She wasn't sure why she felt it, but she did. [say]"Maybe that will have them more drawn to your light than ever."[/say]
She met his gaze, and his question didn't take her by surprise. Still, she pressed her lips together and shook her head, turning to look out into the dancing light and shadow of the night. [say]"I haven't...I haven't prayed,"[/say] she sighed, rubbing her hands over her arms before walking a few paces forward, as if to continue Jigano's stroll. [say]"I don't..."[/say] She seemed uncomfortable then, frowning. How was it others slipped so easily into these roles, didn't feel their chest knotting at times like these? Why couldn't she just breeze through conversation, not worrying about what it was she had to say?
She huffed a breath and cast him a wan smile. [say]"Prayer and religion aren't exactly familiar to me. I've never even met Ludo,"[/say] she admit.
RE: Ghost Walk - Jigano - 08-26-2019
Winter is usually my favorite season, he allowed, the personal tidbit given a little grudgingly, but freely nonetheless as he sang and fell in behind her. It was, admittedly, more reassuring to have her in front of him where he could see her. She might be turning over a new leaf, but old grudges died hard, even when he was consciously trying to give her a chance. Numeria was a northern land, cold and harsh and beautiful, especially in winter. Deepfrost would not be so terrible if we didn't have Long Night to deal with. And... his thoughts trailed off, shying away from mentioning the weight that bore down on everyone's shoulders of late. Their King had the blight. Ronin was friend to some, family to others, ruler to them all. No one was entirely untouched by the creeping illness that had befallen the Greatwood, the goddess, and now the humans of the Hollowed Grounds as well.
Most souls should find their way to Ludo on their own. I seek those too lost or unwilling to reach him. If they are only lost, then it is my honor and pleasure to lead them on to the masked god. If they refuse to go... that will be a different challenge, he admitted grimly. Ideally they would be drawn into the lantern and trapped there until he could get them to a shrine, but the lantern was a new addition to his arsenal, and so far untested.
Still, he steeled himself to have faith in Ludo's gift.
Ludo had given him the lantern at his request, but Ashetta had received her best friend back from Mort's compassion. He would have thought her a loyal follower of the gentle god, but her answer came as something of a surprise and he arched a brow as they continued walking a slow and meandering path through the ruins. Surely any who heard them would be spooked as the slender woman spoke to the white-haired man, who never ceased singing his ancient song.
Ahhh, that's right. Your land had no gods. I think Remi told me that. Prayer can be a very personal thing... The gods tend to know what's in your heart and mind, and trying to keep secrets from them can be a dangerous game. He slanted a glance at her, but she already knew that, didn't she? She had said that Mort had embraced her knowing full well who she was and what she had done. He shivered a little as a chill gust blew from behind them, stirring the fog that pressed in around the diffuse sphere of light cast by his lantern. Pulling his cloak a little closer around his shoulders he considered her lack of knowledge with a thoughtful pause, wondering how best to describe something that could be so different between people. People usually pray for help with something that they feel is beyond their control, asking the gods to intervene. Sometimes it's a giving of thanks, if they feel that good fortune is due to a god looking out for them. Here... the gods are a lot closer than they were on my world. Sometimes people pray because we're worried for the gods, he admitted, thinking heavily of Safrin and the burden of blight she carried.
He tilted his head at the
But it wasn't easy, asking an ex-assassin for help with anything, much less something so important as what he had in mind. Even if she was better suited to the task than anyone else he could think of.
RE: Ghost Walk - Ashetta - 08-27-2019
Ashe couldn't help her faint smile as he described the winters of his own world, glancing back at him. Numeria. She commit the name to memory, knowing full well how important home-worlds could be to Outlanders, be it for better or worse. She wondered if all of Jigano's ghosts were in Numeria, as hers were in Northwind, or if more of them lay here in Caido. They certainly weren't close enough to ask, so she took the morsel of personal information for the gift it was and offered one back.
[say]"It's Kalt's favorite season too,"[/say] she said fondly beneath the melody of his song. Her eyes turned softer as she looked into the mists, the shadows blurred and uncertain. [Say]"I was born where snow arrived early in the mountains, the roots of them stretching out into the sea. I think I loved it then, but I don't remember it well. Winters in the city were dirty and wet and cruel. I'm… relearning how to see its beauty."[/say] Frozen in a snowdrift in some alley, dying, fading… until she woke to the bright blue eyes of a boy, not knowing he had just saved her. Not knowing that she had just been sold to his Master. Winters had never been kind to the raven haired girl.
For a moment she thought to worry after having him behind her, but her senses were open, keeping him in the edges of her vision as she glanced back. [Say]"What becomes of souls that refuse to join Mort?"[/say] she wondered. Did they become wretched? Not like Vanya, who had been tucked safely and happily into the stars, Ronin with her for a time. Did the ones he was meant to find feel alone? Cold?
Ashe nodded her affirmation as he recalled what he had been told of Northwind. No gods, or if there were any, they had been long dead and forgotten. Prayer sounded strange, something so close to bowing and scraping and serving before kings. Could she stomach it?
Jigano presented her a question, and she tilted her head in a nearly canine way at him as she gathered her cloaked closer against the chilling fog. [Say]"I went to the Oasis shrine,"[/say] she told him. [Say]"It's the only one I've ever truly reached out to them through."[/say] She looked ahead of them again, thinking carefully before she went on. [Say]"I know Ludo is Mort's herald, to guide fallen souls to him… but I know too of Ludo's cruelty. The things it's done to Remi. And..it appeared to Kalt at the Festival of Lights last year, with me and Theea beside him."[/say] There was no mistaking the hard edge that crept into her voice, a chill snaking down her spine. The haunting visage of the Master of Assassins often appeared to her in her sleep. [Say]"It brought with it my Master."[/say]
Her bright eyes turned back to Jigano, any traces of mirth shut away behind something hardened and wounded. [Say]"I've been wary of seeking out Ludo."[/say]
RE: Ghost Walk - Jigano - 08-27-2019
He had gleaned from seeing them together a few times that there was something between them, romantic or some other bond. It had bothered him more then, wondering what Kalt, warrior and scholar, saw in the assassin girl. He still didn’t know that Kalt shared her profession, but he noted her obvious fondness for the man – noted, too, how she spoke of his enjoyment of winter but not her own. He felt a little pulse of jealousy that she knew what the sea was like, born beside it instead of reading about it only in books, but he quickly muffled it. He had seen the stars – or at least, memories of them. And he would see the ocean one day as well, here on Caido, of that he was determined.
Did you city have no midwinter festivals? he asked, curious in spite of himself at hearing the snowy season described as ‘cruel’ in the city. Then again, for those who were poor and lacked shelter, winter could be the cruelest season of all.
His singing took on a gentler tone as she asked about the recalcitrant souls, as if to deliberately coax with honey rather than force. He nodded as she glanced back, assuming she was checking to make sure he was keeping up, but he was not so weak that their slow pace would tire him yet. Some of them become monsters, I was told. Perhaps even the monsters that hunt Long Night, though that is only a guess on my part. Sometimes he guessed right, and sometimes not. His hope that the poisonous plants beneath the Spire were the source of the blight had been proven wrong, but his assumption that the Voice was involved had been confirmed. Ludo had seemed to imply that his assumption about the monsters of Long Night was correct… but he had not outright agreed, either.
He nodded thoughtfully at hearing that she had gone to the Glade. It had been his favorite shrine as well before he had found the one in Ludo’s Woods. He listened as she recounted her unease with the soul guide, and why, and he paused when she turned to look at him, leaning on his staff and considering what she had said for long minutes before speaking. You should be wary, he agreed slowly. Gods are not toys to trifle with, though I think that sometimes gets forgotten here with how often they appear. They are powerful, and their ways of thinking are not ours. All of them can be cruel in their own ways. At least, the younger gods can. I think they are each a little closer to mortals than the Old Gods are, and more prone to our flaws as well as our strengths. He paused his thoughts if not his song, watching Ashetta carefully and weighing his words with careful precision. I will not make apologies or excuses for Ludo. It’s not my place, and they would not thank me for it. Suffice to say that being released from the barrier to be reunited with Mort has been good for them… as, I think, Safrin’s reunion with Vi has sharpened her edges. He grimaced, remembering his last prayer to that goddess, and how terribly it had gone.
He pushed himself upright again, letting his song die away, the fog swallowing it eagerly so that not even echoes lingered. The lantern continued to burn steadily, but it was joined again by a glimpse of moonlight high above as Jigano tapped his staff against the ground, coming to a decision at last. ”I would like to build a shrine for both Ludo and Mort, an altar of memories and a guidepost for the dead. But I cannot do it alone. You are familiar with Mort, where I am not, and would know better how to honor him. I would… I would welcome your assistance, if you would be willing.” The words were formal and no little bit stiff as the bard fought with his bias to ask for the former-assassin’s help, but he managed to get them past the troublesome pride that so often got in his way. ”Though I understand if you would rather not, given Ludo’s unpredictability.”
RE: Ghost Walk - Ashetta - 09-03-2019
Ashe tilted her head back at Jigano. Festivals... She nodded, and she couldn't help her half smile as she looked ahead of them again. [say]"There were,"[/say] she answered. [say]"We had no holidays, so different areas of Northwind celebrated at different times, different things. The capital housed people from all over the country, so depending on where you went in the city, you were sure to find something going on. Merchant caravans were my favorite."[/say] If Jigano had been trying to prompt something positive in her memory with winter months, she supposed it had worked. Street parties and festivals with Kalt or her father had been a few flares of light in the infinite dark her life had been.
Ashe frowned, eyes scanning the mists like she might see one of those lost souls, though it was Jigano that called them. [say]"From the sounds of things, the monsters have only been in the Hallowed Grounds for the Long Night,"[/say] she said, her voice as soft as his song had become. [say]"If souls hadn't been able to reach Mort and fled from Ludo within the barrier...I suppose that would make sense."[/say]
The conversation continued on to the very god who guided these souls, to the gods as a whole. She listened curiously, trying to set aside the overall disdain she held for higher powers. Her impression of gods for so long were nothing more than cruel, fickle beings that looked at mortals as tools and playthings. She still wasn't entirely convinced that wasn't true... but of of course, Mort had powerfully challenged that belief. [say]"Prone to the flaws and strengths of mortals, but with the power of gods,"[/say] she mused, her voice subdued, thinking of the Voice along with the three heralds of the Old Gods. [say]"Already experienced that bullshit."[/say] It was Frey she spoke of, her skin crawling at the memory. That was one god she never intended to prey to again.
The Sage slowed to a stop, and Ashe did to, half turning to look at him as he ended his song. And his request... her eyes widened just barely, and she turned to face him fully. She had extended her offer to him and meant it, but she never expected to be asked to help with something so... sacred. [Say]"You want me to...?"[/say] Five hells, what would it imply? That she was willing to serve a god, serve anyone? Her arms crossed slowly, her brows drawing together. A shrine to Mort and Ludo, however she felt about the herald...
She finally nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching up in a small smile. [say]"I'd like to help,"[/say] she finally said. [say]"I don't know where I stand with the gods just yet, but I think I would like to show Mort that I... appreciate him."[/say]
RE: Ghost Walk - Jigano - 09-03-2019
So at least her winters had not been all tragedy and loss, death and cold. He might have smiled if he hadn’t been singing, but of course such pleasant interludes were all too brief. So the Fae have said, he acknowledged with a weary nod as he shaped the song and sent it into the dark. It is only here within the Barrier that such danger exists. Though with the barrier gone, the Greatwood may well be in danger, unless the monsters prefer human prey. And that, too, was possible, though the bard was disinclined to bet lives on it.
One couldn’t speak of souls, though, lost or otherwise, without mentioning Ludo and Mort: one known for its capriciousness, as the other was known for his love. So it has seemed to me, though I admit I have only met Ludo and Safrin. He had been warned of Frey, thankfully, and had yet to come to that deity’s attention. A situation he would prefer to maintain for as long as possible, given what he knew of Frey’s preferred method of worship and habit of meddling in the sex lives of their followers. He and his mate needed no help with that! Though as the blight had stolen the light from his eyes and the steadiness of his limbs there had been little enough energy or desire for lovemaking of late.
And far too much baseless anger and venomed words.
Then it came time to make a decision, and in spite of the wariness and weariness both that filled his heart he reached out to the wolf woman, explaining himself as best he could. Her surprise at his request might have been comical if it wasn’t such a serious moment. ”Thank you,” he said gravely. ”I don’t know that participating in building a shrine will mark you as theirs, though it might well bring you to one or both god’s attention. I will not pretend that it is without risk in that regard… but it is worth undertaking, I think.” Not entirely selfish, at least, though not purely noble, either. It was, at least, well intentioned, however dangerous such things could be. ”I was hoping to build it near the Bone Bridge. I think that Ludo would appreciate that, and it has struck me as a place that inspires respect and meditation on those who have passed. I will let you know when it is time. If you can think of ways to make it pleasing to Mort as well, I would appreciate your input.” He did not bow deeply to the ex-assassin; he was not so confident in her yet that he would take his eyes entirely off her, but he offered a shallow one that kept her partially within his sight.
Not that his reflexes were up to defending him from an attack, surprise or not. His hands still shook, and his skin smelled of the grave, but at least his mind was still his own.
For now.
RE: Ghost Walk - Ashetta - 09-07-2019
She didn't know how she felt about about being called to attention. She was reasonably certain that now without being an immortal, she was free of their interest. She appreciated the honesty he spoke to her with, and how seriously he understood what it meant to have the eye of a god trained on them. Was it different with Mort? She would never forget the staggering sense of being truly seen and loved by something like he was.
Ashe nodded as he mentioned the Bone Bridge. She had been only once and received Soot that day, the little spider being a needed and silent companion when she’d been at her worst. [say]”That seems a good place,”[/say] she murmured, almost distantly. Building a shrine to the gods. She would have been laughing until her ribs hurt if someone told her a year ago that she would ever agree to something like that.
Jigano dipped into a shallow bow, and then she was really surprised. She held his gaze, and she dipped her head in return. [say]”I’ll do what I can,”[/say] she promised. Pleasing to Mort…. She didn’t know where to begin, and it was a weighty request. He was the God of Death, and he was so much more than she could have ever imagined for such a being.
Ashe glanced at the lantern, to his hands that held his staff as mist curled around them both. There was still that smell, something that didn’t belong with what she had come to know as his. [say]”Jigano…”[/say] Her brow creased, and she was surprised at herself when she realized she was actually worried about the loreseeker. [say]”Are you feeling alright?”[/say]
RE: Ghost Walk - Jigano - 09-08-2019
He didn't blame Ashetta for being a bit distracted; what he was asking was no easy thing, nor something that she should agree to without thought. Nor was his asking an impulsive thing. The thought had been tickling his mind since he spoke with Ludo, and though their personal ties were still tense, fragile things (not unlike his relationship with Remi had been for so long, albeit with more courtesy and far less violence) she was still the only person he had heard of who had any experience with Mort. He came to her from a mixture of choice and necessity, and only time would tell if he had made the right decision to include her, and whether he could ever truly move past her previous profession.
She was becoming a person to him now, though, not simply a faceless symbol of what had caused him so much grief in his homeworld. No longer 'the assassin' but 'Ashetta, daughter of Vai, sister of Remi, savior of Ronin.' It was an awkward and emotionally difficult transition that he still stumbled over, and likely would for some time yet to come, but it was progress. If he could welcome Melita and Kiada, fierce warriors both, under his wings, was Ashetta truly so different from those martial souls and tarnished hearts?
And then, of course, she had to ask after his health with that note of sincerity in her voice that took him completely by surprise. Assassins weren't supposed to care about people. Not, at least, those beyond their immediate family. Another section of the ramparts he had erected against her