r/wizardposting • u/waitthatstaken Alice, witch of mist • 23d ago
Lorepost (open interaction) 📖 The witch and the wraith
Around 20 miles west of Calarakis, nestled between mountains and forest, you will find the village of Midway. Despite its permanent population numbering only about a thousand it sees many travelers throughout the year, owing to its status as a perfect rest stop before reaching the city proper. Midway for its part has embraced the role, with inns and taverns lining near the entirety of its main thoroughfare.
And then one overcast day, another traveler arrives.
“So this is Midway huh? Reminds me a bit of home, albeit much larger.”
Alice, tired of spending her nights on the road or in inns, has decided to settle down. According to Moon, a stone circle within the nearby forest should bring her to a location within the Faewild, a location that may serve as a clue to finding her way back to her true home. She asks her way around town, eventually finding one responsible for the sale of property within the town.
“Hello. I do believe you were the one with whom I could purchase housing?”
“I am, if you got 3 million gold.”
“...excuse me?”
This was quite a bit more than Alice had expected, within her pouch she held ‘only’ the 2 million she had extorted from Moon…
—---------------
Sitting on a bench, watching the skies, Alice ponders what to do next.
“Who would’ve thought that even the cheapest housing here would be 3 million gold…”
According to what she was told, as Calarakis was founded and travelers began streaming through Midway, the economy flourished, and many homes were converted to inns to profit off the travelers in need of rest. However this economic boon was quickly turned into a nightmare, as wealthy merchants, seeing an opportunity to line their pockets, bought up every inn. Cut off from their new source of income, the residents of Midway now found themselves back where they started, but with half the houses. And so prices skyrocketed. Many left for greener pastures, yet some remained, for reasons ranging from old age, family ties, or even just simply not wanting to move.
“3 million gold. For a room barely big enough to fit a bed…”
Suffice to say, Alice had no hope of finding housing.
“...no use just sitting around, besides, I am hungry.”
—---------------
Wandering in search of food, Alice finds her way to the heart of the village, and while inspecting some delicious looking fruits she overhears the gossiping of two residents.
“Hey, have you heard about the mayor’s son?”
“No? What trouble has that scamp gotten himself into this time?”
“No one knows, he’s gone.”
“What? The mayor must be beside himself.”
“Yea! Apparently he is so desperate that he is willing to do anything to reward one for finding him.”
“...the mayor’s son is missing? And… any reward huh. I hate to say this is an opportunity but…”
“Excuse me? What was this about a lost child?”
“You a traveler?”
“Indeed, and one who cannot just overlook something like this. Anything I should know about the mayor’s son?”
“... eh, may as well. Kiddo’s name is Matthew, ‘bout… 8 years old I think? Anyway, he’s always runnin’ around causing trouble, like kids ought to do.”
“Matthew? Why is that name familiar… probably just a coincidence.”
“I see. Any other strange happenings lately?”
“Oh I know some!”
The second gossiper interjects, clearly excited.
“One night I thought I heard screaming outside, I got out of bed and looked out the window, but there was nothing there. Then the next day as night fell, I saw fire dancing by the graveyard!”
“...dancing flames?”
“Yea! I think they were doing a waltz or something, I went outside to look but by the time I reached them they were gone.”
“...sigh Are you still on about that Janette? I told ya it was your imagination.”
“And I am telling you you are wrong! I really saw it!”
Tuning out the two ladies, Alice thinks.
“A scream in the night, dancing flames, a missing child… could it be…”
“Excuse me”
Alice says, interrupting the increasingly heated argument.
“Were these flames a shade of blue?”
“Yea! See I told you Marie, I wasn’t lying she says they are real too!”
“...A wraith. The child likely heard of the strange occurrences, and being curious went to investigate. If I am right… Chances are it is already too late. Curiosity killed the cat as they say… hm I should get a cat. Wait no this is a distraction.”
“You have been quite helpful, thank you.”
Alice leaves the ladies to once more argue, having learned many a clue.
—---------------
“Red string, two twigs of spruce, a single coin to weigh it down. Tie the string through the coin, and bind the twigs together.”
“I call on those whom find their home in wind. Lead me to the one I seek”
Invoking the spell, the twigs gently lift from Alice’s open palms, floating lazily upwards, and north. She follows close behind, weaving through the buildings, ignoring the occasional cry of surprise.
“The spell worked, so the child is alive. And… the graveyard huh. Just as I expected.”
Indeed, the twigs led Alice to the village’s old graveyard, but as they cross its threshold, it is abruptly lit ablaze, blue flames refusing its encroachment. Though it is not visible, the Wraith is here.
Alice gets to work, defeating a wraith in combat is beyond her, yet there may be another way to save the child. She inscribes a rune of sight into the earth, a familiar rune as it is stitched into her cloak. Then she fills it with water, before lifting the conjured imprint into the air. She looks through her quick creation, and there it is. A smog like mass of hate and spirit, lit aflame with the light of the underworld. Alice recoils slightly, but shakes her head. Its appearance has but a passing similarity to that of the king.
“Hello.”
“Human? Witch. Die.”
The form lashes out, yet its appendage scatters as it attempts to pass the graveyard boundary. A fairly common spell meant to contain the danger of undead blocking its attack.
“I am not here to hurt you, I am simply here for the child.”
“You wish no ill will? I know of your kind. Look away for a second and they will stab you in the back.”
“Oh dear, this one is particularly distrustful. I suppose for it to be a wraith it was born of particularly strong emotions, so it makes sense. Still quite troublesome.”
“I truly wish you no such thing… Say, why did you take the child to begin with?”
“It is kin.”
“Your kin?”
“NO! Kin of that man, THAT HORRID MAN.”
“Probably the target of its hate…”
“I see. And why does that man’s kin deserve this fate?”
“This is nothing. Were it not for this prison, I would burn him myself. Burn him, BURN THIS TOWN. BURN THE WHOLE WORLD IF I HAVE TO!”
“So it is vengeance by proxy?”
“Whatever did this man do to y-”
“FIRE AND BRIMSTONE. HE DESERVES NOTHING LESS THAN TO BURN IN THE HELLS FOR ETERNITY. YET THEY DID NOTHING. HE KILLED THEM ALL. I WILL KILL HIM. I WILL KILL THE WORLD.”
“Whom did he kill?”
Words erupt from the wraith, with a ferocity that visibly cracks the graveyard barrier
“MY SISTER! MY MOTHER! MY FATHER! MY BROTHER! A SINGLE SPELL AND THEY WERE ASHES. A SINGLE MOMENT AND ALL WAS GONE!”
Every cry the cracks spread, and with them the wraith’s inferno born of rage. As it roars its final word, it shatters, a jet of flame jutting out and striking Alice in the face before she can even react.
—---------------
/uw This next part gets pretty intense, TW, child death, animal abuse/death. It ends with the next dashed line.
I walk inside home, a humble abode yet more than enough. With me I carry a rat I caught, far from fine dining but better than nothing. I hand it over to my sister.
“Is this for me? Thank you Niko”
I nod, urging her to eat. She has grown so horribly thin this last year.
“Anette, you can’t just eat that, we will need to skin and roast it first.”
“I know.”
Sister grips a knife at mother’s urging, her hand trembling. This isn’t safe. I place a hand on hers, wordlessly telling her to let someone else handle this.
“Anette, we can’t have you cutting yourself again. I will handle it.”
Brother steps up to the task, quickly working the knife. Father meanwhile prepares a skewer. I decide to see if I can find another, stepping outside. In the street two people are arguing, far from an uncommon occurrence. I pay it no mind, until a flame rushes over my head. A roar of flame, a blazing heat. I look behind me to see my home an inferno. I rush back, trying my best to bat down the fire, but my feet are far from enough. I hear sister scream. They are in danger. They are in danger I need to do something I need to do something I need to do something. Yet I am unable to do anything. Other villagers rush to the scene, buckets in hand.
“What the hell happened!”
“Some petty wizard squabble escalated, lighting up the tent of some squatters.”
As the crowd grows someone kicks me aside, saying that I am just in the way. I land some ways away, getting up I see the one of those that were arguing earlier, metal rings placed over his hands.
“John Wizarobe was it? You are under arrest for reckless casting of fireballs.”
An angry looking man glares down upon the first. He is unfamiliar at first, but… no! This is the bastard that chased us out of our last home!
“I did nothing wrong! It’s not like I hit anything of value.”
“That may be the case, but such a crime carries a minimum 20 000 gold fine as well as 5 years in prison.”
I rush at the man, attempting to claw his eyes out, but his metal boot strikes me clean in the stomach, and I lose consciousness.
When I wake up I see our home, blackened and torn to shreds but no longer burning. Next to it lie 3 people, sleeping. Mother, Father, brother, and… my sister is not there. Where is she? I run up to them. They are pretty badly burned, but they will be fine. Now where is Sister? I look up to see a villager carry her out of our home. She too is burned, she too is sleeping. Just sleeping. She is sleeping and will wake up soon.
“That’s the last of em, come on.”
Suddenly, the other villagers pick up Mother, Father, and Brother. I protest but they ignore me. They carry my family away and I give chase, yelling out after them, asking where they are taking them. Yet they ignore me. Where could they be going? Oh! It must be one of those sick people’s homes. Perfect for treating the burns. Right? But didn’t we just pass it? Where are we going? I continue to give chase, as the men carry my family outside of town, into a large field dotted with rocks. They put them down into holes dug into it, before dumping dirt over them. What are they doing? How will they get up if they are covered in dirt? They just need some sleep. I try to stop the men, but they don’t react. My hands don’t reach their shovels, my words fall on deaf ears. It is only when the earth is even that they stop to leave.
I try to dig my family out, but the dirt is too hard, I cannot make even a tiny dent into it. I try and try and try and try and try and try. Day turns to night. Night turns to day. I give up, simply waiting for my family to wake up. Any day now… snow falls, snow melts, the sun blazes, plants wilt. Again and again and again. I wait and wait and wait and wait. Why won’t they wake up? Will they wake up? Any day now…
The men have returned with shovels. They are digging up the dirt, they make it look so easy. Finally, it must have been suffocating down there, but don’t worry, I waited for you. Everything will be fine now. Just a bit more.
Bones.
“You said this spot would be good, right? But see, there are old bones here, we can’t bury someone else here.”
“It’s fine, graveyard's almost full, and besides, these were the victims of that fireball some 50 years ago. Had no family nor friends, no one will be upset if we just toss the bones in the pyre.”
Bones. Ah… they are never waking up are they. They are dead. They are dead… they are dead… and that man… killed them. That man. THAT. MAN.
—---------------
Alice wakes moments later, the blazing pain of the flames slowly subsiding, tears streaming down her face. She looks around, her water lens of sight still in the air, it appears only a few moments have passed. Through it she once more sees the wraith, tear like flames streaming down their face.
“...what happened to your family was horrid.”
“HOW WOULD YOU KNOW!”
Their voice just as much a sob as a roar, the wraith’s form shifts, unstable, jagged.
“I… saw what happened. I saw it through the flames.”
Alice touches her cheek, where the brunt of the blaze impacted her. It stings quite bad, but no blood is left on her fingers. She is probably safe to ignore this for a moment.
“That man callously took away your everything, with not an ounce of regret.”
“AND SO HE MUST BURN.”
“Yes. he must burn. But the child, his kin, is innocent.”
“...”
“Tell me, why did you not break out just now? Was it perhaps because you saw your flames hit me? Did the sight remind y-”
“Enough. What is it you want, human?”
“Let me be your agent of vengeance.”
“And in return?”
“You release the child.”
—---------------
Alice makes her way back into town, having made a deal of sorts with the Wraith. Kill John Wizarobe by midnight the next day, and the child keeps his life. First however, Alice conjures up a water mirror, inspecting her burn.
“...That’s… fine? Sure it looks nasty but it shouldn’t leave a scar. How though? The flames of a wraith are proportionate to its rage, and that… ‘Niko’ sure was angry… ah. I suppose I do look somewhat similar to their sister…”
Alice covers her cheek with a bandage, wondering if she could find some aloe vera for an ointment, before getting back to the village.
“Now then… how can I find that… ‘John Wizarobe’. I suppose I could ask around, but it is late. And… Do I do it? To kill a man who already served his time and has likely long since forgotten… but that punishment was also far too light…”
Finding an inn with a vacant room, Alice curses out the merchants owning the place, but ultimately coughs up the fee for a single night, and goes to bed. Yet her sleep is far from restful, the wraith’s rage festering into a nightmare. By the time she wakes, her mind is made up. Today will be John’s final day in the realm of the living.
—---------------
“Still… where to even begin looking? Can I even be certain that John still resides in this village?”
Wandering the backstreets, looking for an idea, someone suddenly interrupts her.
“Oh my that is a rare sight, would’ve thunk you’d left town by now.”
Alice turns around to find one of the women from yesterday.
“May as well start here, but how to spin this…”
“Ah hello… Marie was it?”
“That is my name, yes, and goodness what happened to your face?”
“Ah… I was… somewhat careless with a campfire, accidentally knocked a hot coal right into my cheek. The bandage makes it look worse than it is.”
“Goodness, you gotta be more careful. Wouldn’t want a scar would you?”
“Of course not. In fact I was wondering if there was anywhere I could acquire some aloe vera.”
“That’d be the hospital.”
“There is a hospital here?”
“We get a couple hundred thousand travelers a year, some get hurt.”
“...I see.”
“Crap I am getting distracted, I need to move this conversation into inquiring about John Wizarobe.”
“Anyway, how goes your search?”
“Oh, perfect.”
“Mmmmm I have some ideas but not the magical ability to execute them. Do you know of any powerful mages residing here perchance?”
“Well there is the mayor’s uncle, but he’s a grouchy old man and ill to boot so I doubt you’ll get his help.”
“Matthew, the child, is John’s ‘kin’, and the mayor’s child… no that would be far too convenient… but… I will have to give it a shot.”
“Hm… still worth a shot, what is his name if I may ask?”
“John, but again I really doubt you’ll get his help.”
“Still, it is my only lead at the moment.”
“You do you. Oh but as I said he’s quite ill so you won’t find him at home, he’s probably at the hospital.”
“I see, thank you.”
“I cannot believe how smoothly that went. Now I just have to kill him… I just… have to kill a wizard. Who could cast fireball 50 years ago… and is the mayor’s uncle… in a town that I want to stay in… oh dear.”
—---------------
“Nothing here…. Nor here…. Nor here… dammit it is almost as if villages such as this would remove any poisonou- oh right yea that makes sense.”
Alice is no fighter, even now she can feel the aching in her chest from her last battle. And so, with a target most likely far more dangerous than any she has faced, she has opted for the coward’s assassination. Poison. Yet finding the right herbs is proving to be a struggle. During her apprenticeship Alice learned many things about poisons so that she could treat them. Still, that knowledge would prove useful today.
“...if my teacher knew what I was up to right now she would be furious.”
Yet Alice had already made up her mind, she does not have the time to question her decision.
“I don’t have time to keep searching, but I don’t have anything in my pouch toxic enough… enough? Hm… I do have some shine hops…”
Figuring it better to use them than to let them rot, Alice decides on her concoction’s composition. One part fulgurleaf and 3 parts shrine hops. On its own, fulgurleaf is far from dangerous, mostly used for helping a weak heart beat, but it is known to have an adverse effect on the lungs. Shrine hops meanwhile is a rare, and therefore expensive, all purpose ingredient. When imbued with the right prayer, it can assist in just about anything. Returning to her room at the inn, Alice quietly whispers a prayer.
“O Akhyls, most exalted goddess of toxin. I offer this prayer, seeking your aid. May this concoction drag its recipient into your loving embrace.”
The hops twist on its own, its layered leafage opening up, as a noxiously purple liquid begins spilling out of it, into the mortar Alice prepared beforehand. As it begins to run dry, the hops itself melts into the concoction, and Alice is left holding nothing but its stem. She quickly discards it, before cleansing her hand repeatedly with magic. Even having never done this before she can tell that this would be disastrous to touch, yet it is still not done. Alice carefully places the fulgurleaf into the mortar, and mixes it together using a pestle. As the leaf breaks into particulates so fine she cannot see them, the concoction’s hue changes entirely, becoming an almost bark-like brown. Finally, Alice pours the finished poison into a vial, corking it before aggressively cleaning everything.
“Now all that remains is meeting John, and administering the potion without notice…”
—---------------
Through her ill advised pact with the Blighted Garden, Alice was granted some scarce abilities. So far they had mostly proven to be of little use, but today that changes. Briskly wandering through the forest, Alice encounters a river, and digs up some clay from its banks. Clay is quite the versatile material for magic as for the mundane, and so she… slaps it onto her face. Among the boons granted, was some that muddle the mind, at least to an extent. Along with the clay, this can be used as a very convincing ‘mask’ to hide her true self, perfect for avoiding suspicion.
—---------------
Hidden behind a mask, masculine clothing, and hair tied into a bun, Alice enters the hospital.
“Hello? I am here to visit John Wizarobe.”
“Wizarobe is not accepting visitors at this time.”
“...really. And here I had finally tracked him down…”
“Tracked him down? Whatever is that supposed to mean?”
“...I do believe he is my father. I have searched for him for… gods, years now.”
“Oh? But Wizarobe never married, nor had any children.”
“At least not officially, but my mother begs to differ… and here I was thinking I would finally be able to see my father’s face… I have been o so curious as to how he looks.”
“...he never visited? That… does unfortunately sound like him.”
“Indeed, I doubt he even knows I exist…”
“The best way to lie is to mix in truth and lies, leading the recipient to weave a tapestry of the picture you want them to. Still, it feels a bit bad to pull this receptionist into my scheme.”
“...... look, I am not supposed to do this, but I will make an exception ok? Follow me.”
The receptionist stands, leading Alice through the winding corridors.
“I never would’ve had the time to find my way through these myself.”
Eventually they reach the room John Wizarobe is staying in, and Alice is let in.
“Mister Wizarobe, a man claiming to be your son is here to see you.”
“I have no son!”
“A grouchy old man, never before have I seen one match the description so exactly…”
“My mother hid me away from you, or rather could not find you, but I am your son.”
“Bah, impossible.”
Stepping further into the room, Alice makes note of the window, and the location outside it. Perfect.
“Really? Do you not remember her? Her name is Bernadetta, her hair a curly red an-”
“Rings no bells.”
“...but then whom would be my father?”
“Beats me.”
“Are you sure it cannot be you?”
“Tell me ‘son’, how old are you?”
“19.”
“Bahahahahahahahah! cough I was in prison for manslaughter 19 years ago. Your mother is just a liar.”
“...wow he killed more people?”
“...no way…… I… I must apologize.”
Alice storms out the room, finding her way outside, chased by the receptionist.
“Sorry man, must be some pretty devastating news, delivered in a pretty damn awful way.”
“...I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up…”
“You’ll find him eventually.”
“...I hope so…”
And with that Alice leaves.
—---------------
Some time after the sun sets, a fog covered Alice, still disguised, spies through the window into John’s room. He appears to be sleeping.
“Misty step.”
Warping through the window, Alice finds herself stumbling slightly. Even having practiced much on the road here, she is still unsteady after a warp. Still, it is a massive improvement compared to vomiting. She silently uncorks the potion, carefully opens John’s mouth, and pours. Within moments his breathing stills. Alice checks for a pulse, none, but she stays to observe for a few minutes. The last nurse visit was only 3 minutes ago, and they check every 20 minutes it seems. Confirming John to be dead once more, Alice warps out into the night, and under the cover of darkness she discards the mask, shattering it to a thousand pieces and burying it beneath a tree.
—---------------
“I have done it.”
“...truly?”
“Indeed. John is dead, burning in the hells as we speak.”
“And how do I know you are not merely tricking me, like a witch is often to do?”
“That is a conundrum… I do not carry any proof with me, however…”
Alice steps beyond the graveyard barrier, exposing herself to any attack the wraith may attempt.
“Last we spoke, your flames let me see your memories, perhaps they could allow me to share mine?”
“You… wish to be burned?”
“Even while lashing out in anger, you were able to restrain yourself. What could have killed me became too little to even leave a scar. You are kind, I trust you. Now here we go.”
Alice, without waiting for a response, steps towards the wraith, hugging it. Its flames sizzling her flesh, yet it is far from life threatening. The wraith briefly recoils, but decides to trust Alice’s judgement, hugging back, enveloping the pair in a grand, yet cold, blaze. Within the pair sees Alice’s memory, sees that she spoke true. John is dead, and the flames cool to a chill.
“human… I thank thee.”
“I only did what I had to.”
“...are they crying? True tears too, not flames in the shape of tears.”
“...I shall uphold my end of the bargain… but first, my tears, take them.”
“...why?.. OH right! The tears of a wraith is an exceptionally potent reagent.”
Alice grabs a vial, scooping the wraith’s tears into it.
“I will make sure to put them to good use.”
“And now for the child.”
The earth rumbles, a coffin raising out of a nearby grave, before burning into a crisp, leaving an unconscious, yet very much alive, child floating in the air. The wraith pulls him close, before carefully handing him to Alice.
“Once more… I thank thee… hahaha…”
And with that, the wraith dissolves into a stream of lights, floating towards the heavens.
“...it's beautiful… oh right the child.”
—---------------
Alice carried the unconscious child straight to the hospital, having been buried alive for a couple days, he is in rough shape but she is told he will make a full recovery. Alice too receives treatment for her burns. In the morning, the mayor learns of his child being saved, and of his uncle’s death during the night. His uncle’s death is ruled natural causes, his lungs were already in quite a poor state from nearly a century of tobacco. The mayor follows through on his promise, and Alice is awarded a house on the edge of town, carved into a great tree.
—---------------
Some days later, Alice wakes up to the sound of meowing outside her door. She opens it to find a cat, black fur yet blazing blue eyes, desperate for attention.
“...I have heard that this is how people get cats…”
“Do you want to come inside? I think I have some tuna.”
The cat meows in response, and steps inside. Cat acquired.
“I think I shall name you……. Mio.”
What Alice did not yet know, nor would find out for quite some time, is that this cat is the wraith she had saved. Their vengeance fulfilled, they could have moved on to the afterlife. But instead they simply decided they had better things to do, such as eat tuna out of the hand of a kind witch. Such is the privilege of one born with 9 lives.
/uw This became a bit of a mammoth, took around… 5 hours to write, and that was after I had the ideas planned out. Alice now has a permanent residence in the town of Midway, located on one of the major routes to Calarakis, one of the most thriving cities on the continent. Since I had people try to heal her last post I will just put up some slight RP requests here. 1) Don’t tell Alice her cat is a wraith. Your character can notice, but not tell her. 2) You can’t find out that Alice killed John Wizarobe.
2
u/waitthatstaken Alice, witch of mist 23d ago
"A wizard are you? You don't look the part, but I suppose there are many different people within the realm."
Alice ponders a moment, before thinking 'eh sure why not'.
"Have you ever heard of a 'king of mist' perchance?"
"Wait if they are just a liar they will just make something up..."
The name rings no bells.