It had been a short while since Lucia had come back, the 4 year break. Since then things seem to have been overgrown almost completely though, her old stomping grounds filled with trees and tall grass, it had been quite a lot of work to clear out and replace what had been lost in that time between. Naturally though her undead worked tirelessly, laboring in order to ensure Lucia had the things she needed, the things that were once her's. Her book cases, tables and chairs replaced, silken blankets woven and cleaned, her tent rebuilt and well dressed as it once was. Even now barrels of wine being uncovered and wax sealed after aging a few years, it was fortunate that they managed to track down some of the lost resources such as the cheeses and alcohols.
This led to Mortimer's current trip and adventure, the gentleman wraith king as regal as ever as he moved through the brush and woods as one would expect from a ghostly specter. While he had no legs, suspended only by a fog-like cloud below the knee one couldn't even see anything while below the waist any sense of leg was purely ethereal and non-physical. Instead the only portion that seemed to remain physical that far down was the man's long flowing coat, with noble dressings here and there, edged in fine materials. Gloved hands clasped behind his back in a semi-casual posture, the steward floated with only a porcelian mask being any evidence of his identity, anything else, such as ears or hair had long since faded away, with no eyes or mouth to need holes in his mask, instead only faint fogs wafted off of his blackened physique as if any skin was long burned and charred to a deadened black.
The Wraith King's objective was his old stash of tea leaves as well as his garden. Some 4 odd years later it remained every bit the epitome of meticulous hard work, even with all of the overgrowth from the time, it remained manicured to an extent simply due to the man's perfectionist tendencies. He passed through the garden he'd made in the depths of the woods, a casual hand occasionally cupping a flower or stroking a bush in disapproval. "My, it's like the time I was brought back, time certainly is as cruel as ever. Such an unruly place I would have long abandoned were it not for the purpose it served." The man sighed in disapproval before releasing the plants once more, glancing about as if wondering where he might begin. Were it up to him he would have set fire to such an unruly place and started fresh in a place that was cleaned so that he might build it to perfection once more, but alas, his miss could not do without tea for guests or flowers to scent the air. Not only would it be discomforting for her but would also harm her image-- and any harm, even such a tangential harm was something the Wraith King simply would not tolerate.
"I suppose, it's best to deal with the extraneous plant matter first..." He sighed, with a simple flick, a blade came to his hand, and with another large swaths of ivy and vines were minced and carved away. Even when swinging only once, he seemed able to carve large patches with intricate detail, freeing bushes and shaping them to their well manicured state with a few sweeps at a time. The Wraith King worked, even humming a tune as he pruned and moved about with deadly accuracy, but even so he had to make the area presentable at the very least before he began accounting for what was undamaged.
@Jin
This led to Mortimer's current trip and adventure, the gentleman wraith king as regal as ever as he moved through the brush and woods as one would expect from a ghostly specter. While he had no legs, suspended only by a fog-like cloud below the knee one couldn't even see anything while below the waist any sense of leg was purely ethereal and non-physical. Instead the only portion that seemed to remain physical that far down was the man's long flowing coat, with noble dressings here and there, edged in fine materials. Gloved hands clasped behind his back in a semi-casual posture, the steward floated with only a porcelian mask being any evidence of his identity, anything else, such as ears or hair had long since faded away, with no eyes or mouth to need holes in his mask, instead only faint fogs wafted off of his blackened physique as if any skin was long burned and charred to a deadened black.
The Wraith King's objective was his old stash of tea leaves as well as his garden. Some 4 odd years later it remained every bit the epitome of meticulous hard work, even with all of the overgrowth from the time, it remained manicured to an extent simply due to the man's perfectionist tendencies. He passed through the garden he'd made in the depths of the woods, a casual hand occasionally cupping a flower or stroking a bush in disapproval. "My, it's like the time I was brought back, time certainly is as cruel as ever. Such an unruly place I would have long abandoned were it not for the purpose it served." The man sighed in disapproval before releasing the plants once more, glancing about as if wondering where he might begin. Were it up to him he would have set fire to such an unruly place and started fresh in a place that was cleaned so that he might build it to perfection once more, but alas, his miss could not do without tea for guests or flowers to scent the air. Not only would it be discomforting for her but would also harm her image-- and any harm, even such a tangential harm was something the Wraith King simply would not tolerate.
"I suppose, it's best to deal with the extraneous plant matter first..." He sighed, with a simple flick, a blade came to his hand, and with another large swaths of ivy and vines were minced and carved away. Even when swinging only once, he seemed able to carve large patches with intricate detail, freeing bushes and shaping them to their well manicured state with a few sweeps at a time. The Wraith King worked, even humming a tune as he pruned and moved about with deadly accuracy, but even so he had to make the area presentable at the very least before he began accounting for what was undamaged.
@Jin