(OOC: Since 18 questies are driving me crazy and I'm feeling lazy, I'm rolled the dice to wheedle it down to 8 participants for the sake of my sanity.
The following will continue:
- De Man (Suicide Fox)
- Liang Zhuwen (OneEyedDrgn)
- Mai Zu (Zhou Kahn)
- Shangguan Wei (NightForever)
- Shen Feng (Shen Feng)
- Wen Xu (Wen Xu)
- Yang Xi (Hsiahoutun)
- Zu Yanghei (Brother Dun)
My apologies to those who did not make it.)
Suicide Fox wrote:"Alright, alright. I'm Jiao Li, sheesh." De Man tried to remain objective to the old man. He obviously wasn't right in the head, or else there was no way he could mistake him for his son. An idea dawned on him, and he knelt down and placed a hand on the old man's shoulder. "Father, what can you tell me about the ghosts? Have there been more? I was chosen as the spirit to put them to rest, please show me who else I can talk to. Please old man--err, father. I beg of you!" It was worth a shot.
If the old man continues to weep and sob and won't help, De Man will move past him in search of another, "saner" person.
"At first . . . it seemed there would be no problem . . . We buried the lot of you in mass graves. But . . . within two months, things started going awry. People started going missing . . . or were driven insane. Things started going missing . . . and then accidents began to occur with increasing frequency. Fires burned unchecked through parts of the city. Buildings collapsed with no cause. Chickens started laying eggs without yoke. Cows and sheep gave birth to young with two heads or six or more legs. That's all I know . . . But the Governor is trying to get to the bottom of this. He's called for eight volunteers to stay overnight at the main burial site. You should go, son. And figure out what's happened to your friends and comrades. Do it for me, Li-
er. Do it for your friends and comrades."
Shen Feng wrote:"Forgive me, elder. There was no one else on hand willing to help, and I will not stand by and watch someone die like this. I happily defer to your wisdom and expertise." Feng backed away a few steps to give the old man room to work, then knelt and bowed his head apologetically. Whatever annoyance he felt due to the harsh words is tempered by the situation; compared to the victim's dire condition, the words stung less than they might have otherwise. "If there is anything I can do to help, let me know, otherwise I'll stay out of your way."
Feng expected an angry retort to his offer, but it was one he had to make anyway. He wasn't about to turn his back on such an injured man. Beyond that, this was still a curious situation. Why would a young man be tied to a carriage driven by a panicked horse? And with a severed arm, to boot? Surely, his arm wouldn't have been lost while being pulled behind the carriage. It had to have been inflicted earlier. This didn't seem much like an action of ghosts, but by finding out more he might get some insight. That would have to wait until the old man was finished his work, however.
"Find a board or something . . . anything to help me carry this man out of the street and into my house over there," replied the elderly doctor, as he continued working. After that had been said and done . . . and the man carried within the house, the elder slumped on a seat in the reception house, glaring at Shen Feng. Gesturing for him to take a seat, the elder called for a servant to bring some refreshments, before he rounded on the young man. "Where did you learn shoddy medicine like that!?! Another minute of your nonsense, that man would have bled to death . . ."
Zhou Kahn wrote:Mai Zu sat in wonderment for a moment. She saw her dead husband? It must be true then, the stories about ghosts in the area. Thinking for a moment, she turned to the woman, placing a hand on the woman's chin to lift her head an look her in the eye, and spoke.
Mai Zu: "Is this the first time you thought you had seen your husband since his death? and what did he look like; was he happy or sad? did he look like he did at the Palace or at the time he died?"
"He didn't even recognize me . . . it was almost as if he was lost . . . lost on the path to the underworld . . ." replied the woman, shaking her head, still in shock. "I haven't seen him in ages . . . since he was press-ganged into servitude to work on Epang Palace. I later heard he was drafted into Zhang Han's army . . . As we all know . . . that army perished on the plains before this city . . ."
OneEyedDrgn wrote:Zhuwen looked at the soldier before him. He had seen such gruesome sights before while serving Xiang Yu and had gotten used to seeing maimed bodies. Zhuwen simply assumed that the man's... ghostly features were an effect from having been injured so badly. Perhaps asking questions about the rumors of ghosts would best start here, but introductions were in order.
"Hey," Zhuwen greeted the man. "Sorry about botherin' you. I just got locked out of the town, damn guards won't let me in. Can a fellow join you?"
Waving at the man with his one good arm to take a seat, the soldier uncorked a wineskin. Taking a few long gulps, he tossed it to Zhuwen. As Zhuwen caught the wineskin, he saw that a puddle was forming on the ground where the soldier was sitting.
NightForever wrote:Shangguan Wei backed off a little bit. Puzzled by the old woman's words, he raised one of his hands up and smelled his own armpit, which started to attract a few flies around. What the!? my body looks clean and smells good!. Ignoring the old woman's remark about his dirtiness, he again listened to the old lady's word carefully. Despite his hollow brain, his judgement was still decent and he began to approached the sobbing lady again.
"I am sorry for your son, Madam! I mean, he died and left you alone. How bad he is!.... I mean, how bad those evil pricks are! Trust me madam! I am not like those greedy men! I would like to help you redeem what you have lost! By the way, how are you so sure that he was killed by a ghost? In what condition was he found dead? It might be that some human was behind your son's death and they blame the ghost?"
Wei then waited for the woman's response again. He had to be careful not to mention anything about money. Well, actually he did not care about money that much. It was just coincidental that he seemed to be everywhere where the money was. It was pretty coincidental, at least to himself.
"You are an odd one, child," replied the old widow, wiping at the tears that pooled at the corners of her eyes. "An odd one, indeed . . ."
"But I can assure you that my son was killed by ghosts," she stated. "A particularly nasty specter . . . possessed my son and threw him onto an unsprung trap set by Zhang Han. He died, his body impaled on a dozen spears."
Brother Dun wrote:The scholar smiled to the merchant, "Of course, master Jia. I could easily see how ghost stories would ruin your investments. Well, Master Jia, I believe you have found the right man to get to the bottom of this. If you have nothing else for me... I shall be heading over to Elder Ling then, and I shall speak with him about these 'ghosts' that the townspeople have been seeing. I shall no doubt return to you with the answer to these issues, and we can perhaps share a good laugh over these supposed 'ghosts' of Julu."
If Jia Gui had nothing else for him, the scholar would take his leave of the man and begin looking for Elder Ling. Once finding Ling, Zu Yanghei would have some questions for him about these ghost stories, looking to find out all that he could about them.
Zu Yanghei found Elder Ling in the library where he was perusing over a dozen scrolls scattered across three tables. Looking up from his work, he regarded the scholar briefly before speaking. "Who are you? What do you want?"
Wen Xu and Yang Xi getting to know each other
"Well met," replied the foreman. "I presume you two were sent from the clerks from the administrative complex inside the city? I have instructions from the governor . . . for the two of you . . . Instructions that you are to adhere to the letter . . . There will be some others coming on orders from six of the town's elders. Your job tonight is to observe and report on those six individuals, as they keep watch over these main burial grounds."
PMs sent.