Benjamin Graham normally rose from his bed as the sun set. His trade started when many others locked their doors, thinking themselves safe. Today however was different, he needed something important from the city. So he left the dingy blinds in his cottage open so that the light of day would stream into his face. Benjamin opened his dull eyes with a hiss. They had once been a colorful hazel, but his many years and long hours working at night had reduced them to a filmy brown. He got out of bed, his body creaking and popping with every motion. Once he got up and moving the pain of age would go away... mostly. He went to make a futile attempt to comb his hair. In his youth it had been raven black. Now it was a greasy, unkempt gray. Benjamin gave In but did manage to get the grave dirt from last night out of his hair.

He looked for something to wear, but realize that all his old normal clothes were for a younger man. Benjamin grunted, perhaps it was for the best. He threw on his Grave Keeper uniform. Knee length boots of a waterproof make, dull gray trousers, a warm forrest green button up shirt, a cloak starting at the shoulder and ending at the waist, finally a wide brimmed hat. The uniform was designed to keep off the rain, provide warmth, protection, and scare off unsavory sorts.

Dressed, Benjamin stepped out of his cottage and into one of his charges, the inner city cemetery. He was bound for a dusty old street in the Bracken district. The cemetery was located in the Wilted Rose district, a bit of a walk. As he went down the street he got to see the terrified reaction of the people of Ashtyn. Young children hid behind their mothers, priests prayed once he passed, beggars abandoned their squats, and people crossed the street to be away from the his terrible presence. Benjamin was used to it, he paid them no heed.

Many rumours were told about 'Old Ben'. That he only ate grave dirt and coffin worms. That he knew when and how you were gonna die. And that he was a 150 years old. Never ask a young man your age! He was only 114. Most of that other stuff was only rumor, he was only a man, granted a stubborn one. He had done his job for nearly a century, and he could feel in his bones his time was running out.

Throughout the years, Ben had seen many colleges and apprentices cut down, dying premature, grisly deaths. You never know, maybe this next batch was lucky. Benjamin was woken, from his nocturnal rest the day before by the old lady who ran the Grave Keeper office. She told him that a young man and woman had just signed up for Grave Keeping. That brought the total of Grave Keepers in the city to three. Counting himself.

He reached the office. A dusty, filthy building, that hadn't seen a lick of paint in years. Ben sighed and walked in, ignored the office lady yelling at him to collect his pay, and into the small sitting room. He cleared his voice, and in a grating voice that isn't used to being used, asks the people sitting there, "So, you are the two who ruined their lives."

Hogarth had been waiting in the sitting room the entire day, occasionally giving the girl near him a few stray curious looks. He really, really didn't want to be late. Not that he minded the waiting, the old decrepit structure had quite the pleasant atmosphere, or so he thought anyway, and his overwhelming enthusiasm kept him occupied and unaware of most of his surroundings. His wildest dreams would, perhaps, come true any moment now. The only downside of this waiting was that approximately three hours of constant grinning had left his face in great pain. Not that he cared, anyway. He adjusted his bandolier for the thousandth time, made sure his all his vials were in their proper place, for the hundredth time, and ran his fingers across one of his axes, which he had unsheathed, and whirled it in his hand, for gods know how many times. Practice paid off.

Even though not formally trained, the young man, among his countless hours of isolated studying, had come across a good number of arms manuals, and with constant repetition had managed to grasp more than the basics, eventually becoming quite the user of the throwing axe. Having no instructor to guide him, however, most weapons, especially the heavy ones, remained far beyond his grasp. But, as he told himelf over and over in one of his nigh-unstoppable inner monologues, practice made perfect, and he was absolutely determined to master the famous Grave Keeper shovel, even if it meant to he had to face a hundred malefactors.

A sound broke Hogarth's daydreaming. Could it be? It was none other than the famous Old Ben speaking. Here, in the flesh. Quickly he sprang to his feet and, clicking the heels of his massive boots together, gave the man a military salute, and afterwards stood in attention. But his discipline was short lived. In an instant, he returned to his usual slouch and brought his hands together, twiddling his thumbs in nervousness and stared at the old man, still wearing that wide eyed smile, in complete silence.

Nova sat back in her seat silently, awaiting the arrival of the infamous Grave Keeper Ben. It was a name she had heard many times as a kid, a name to be feared... A name to be respected. He was the most skilled at his job, though I guess the only measure of that was how many others he had managed to out last. The girl woman had to stifle a bit of laughter, her private joke twisting her hidden features into a crooked smile. Even so, Nova found herself tugging at the front fold of her cloak's hood, making sure that her expression could not be seen. After all, she was practically signing her own life away into the service of the dead. Not the most glamourous of jobs, but one couldn't say that it was at all boring. She had heard the stories and her father had been one of them, so it wasn't as if she was signing up with absolutely no idea of what lay before her.

Glancing over at the man sitting beside her, Nova didn't know what to make of the guy. His face, mostly his grin, screamed live bait however the equipment he carried hinted otherwise. She figured she would hold off on passing judgement until she saw him at work, after all who was she to judge? Nova dressed lightly, literally so as all of her clothes were chosen specifically not to weigh her down... except for her feet, but one could never be too careful to protect that which stands closest to half the enemy.

Yelling from the attending woman alerted her to the presence of the man the pair had been waiting for for quite some time. Again, the man beside her surprised her by nearly jumping out of his seat. Nova took her time standing, grasping her beloved weapon in her right hand before slowly turning to face the mysterious Ben. She had seen him once before, but it had been dark then... Seeing him in the light was just a as frightening to her now as it had been when she caught sight of him as a child. Smirking to herself, Nova took the initiative to fill the silence left behind after the man's comment.

"Somehow I doubt I'll miss it all that much." Nova said, reaching her left hand up to pull down her hood. Locking eyes on the man, she glanced at him quizzically as if confused by something. "My father spoke rather fondly of you Mr. Graham. I sincerely hope you last long enough for me to find out why."

"Funny, I was just about to say the same thing." Ben told the woman. He then looked towards the man standing at attention, he started sizing the two of them up. While the woman seemed confident, the man seemed... eager. This set him at unease. In his job reckless courage was just as dangerous as utter cowardliness.

He said to the man "Sit down. We have a lot to discuss." not waiting for an answer he took the seat from across them, leaned forward and took a deep sniff of the air. The two of them smelled clean, and like some sort of soap, normally when he met people wanting the job, they smelt worst than the dead. Normally only poor desperate folk wanted the job. He continued,"You must be Nova, and you must be the Nethayr boy." Ben said pointing at each of them in turn. "I'll tell you this, I cannot deny you taking this job. I can't fire you. Yet I am your boss, if you don't follow my rules I will throw you out of the graveyards of Ashtyn, before you wind up underneath them. Before we go further I need to know. Why do you want to be a Grave Keeper?" Ben clasps his hands together waiting for them to reply.

Nova reseated herself with a smirk before returning to a more serious expression, listening carefully to the man's every word. She thought it all made sense, considering he was the eldest Grave Keeper the job had ever known... But he was also the only official one the city had, so it was obvious that they needed the bodies badly. What she had not expected was an explanation of their reasonings. She hadn't given it much thought really, having always just known that she would end up there eventually. Absently her hand reached up to her neckline where her neclace lay hidden behind the cloth of her cloak. Taking advantage from the momentary silence of the guy next to her, Nova took it upon herself to answer first.

"All my life I have been told that my life is of borrowed time, time given to me by Thomas and his wife when they took me in. I owe them a life debt and I intend on repaying it in full." She stated, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her seat. Nova had been telling the truth about her intentions to join the ranks of the rave Keepers, however she had to admit it wasn't the full reason. Recently she had been asking more and more questions about her origins... Questions that could only be answered by the dead, or worse yet, those who raised them. She knew that the job would be dangerous, willing to putting her life in the greatest peril it had ever been in her entire life, but she wasn't about to let herself get picked off before she had a chance to find out the truth of her past. "I can't think of a better way to honor the man than to follow in his footsteps, after all I am a Blake. It's in my upbringing."

Hogarth listened to Nova's answer intently after turning towards Old Ben and nodding positively at the sound of his surname. Borrowed time, life debts, and most importantly, some form of adoption? It all sounded so very quaint and almost made him feel bad for not having motives as deep, or a similar story of his own to share. His excitement had certainly doubled, though, knowing that he'd work beside such colorful and varied individuals. Only when the girl was done speaking, however, did he realize that he, too, had to answer Ben's question. His speech put Hogarth in the mood for sure, although in such an emotionally overwhelming moment, he found it harder to form coherent sentences. Not that his reasons for joining were complex enough to need a detailed description, though. After a few moments of blankly staring, first at Nova, then back at Ben, his grin reverted into a small, honest smirk as he lowered his head, staring at the floor. He shuffled on his seat, and, rubbing the back of his neck he proclaimed, with a voice that somehow managed to be both smooth and shrill.

"I just really like the dead and whatnot."

Ben listened to both of their explanations, raising an eyebrow at the second. "I can tell you now son, that had better be true. You'll be seeing plenty of them. And as for you..." Ben said turning first from Hogarth to Nova, "Thomas was a good Grave Keeper, and rarer still a good man. Starting out I'd work harder at staying alive then emulating him. Honor is for the strong and the dead. Remember that." With more cricks and protests from his joints Benjamin stood up before standing up.

"Still, most of the folks who come in here have no idea how to answer that question. I suppose it's as good a sign as any that you two could. Alright you two follow me!" With that Ben started towards the door telling the office lady to keep the doors unlocked through the night.

Not waiting to see if they were following, Benjamin walked out into the late evening of Ashtyn.

Hogarth remained wide-eyed and in awe up until Ben left the building before practically launching himself off his seat. Taking large, almost dance-like steps, he quickly strode towards the door, humming some upbeat song. As he was picking up speed and about to leave the waiting room, he froze and turned around. Old Ben certainly didn't have time to spare for a couple of new recruits, but the young man found it quite impolite to leave without waiting for his colleague. He leaned by the waiting room's door and, looking at the seated Nova, attempted to strike up a conversation.

"You seem to have quite the story. I'm Hogarth, glad we'll be working together."

He crossed his arms, preparing to offer a handshake and follow her.

"Come on now." He said lightheartedly, with a smile on his face. "Old Ben's waiting... Probably." He let loose a small chuckle.

"Understood sir." Nova smirked, already aware that her first priority was making it through the night. No story her father told her was going to prepare her for the real thing; she had made her peace with that long ago. That in mind, she was quite eager to test her limits against that which literally goes bump in the night. She took her time standing as Ben rose and left the room, her male counterpart quick to leave his seat but hesitant to leave the room without her. With a raised eyebrow Nova walked toward the door, pausing to shake the man's hand.

"Nova... And only time will tell how true that statement is." The young woman smiled with a small chuckle, revealing the jesting nature behind her words. Moving forward, Nova stepped out into the fading light of evening eyes immediately locking on to Ben's form steadily moving away from them. "Old Ben, as you call him, doesn't wait for much let alone him new rookies. Better hurry up before we get left behind." She bounded forward a few paces, her long legs allowing her to catch up rather easily as Nova fell into step behind the guy.

Benjamin waited for the two of them to catch up. Once they left the office he set off talking as he lead them through the streets. "We have to hurry, were we're going it's much harder to get in the dark." he said simply leading them out of the slums and into a simple middle class neighbourhood. He stopped abruptly at a house at the end of the street. "You are standing outside the most frequently haunted house in all of Ashtyn. To my knowledge it has been visited by no less then 46 ghosts throughout the years."

The house in question was really quite unassuming. It was a simple two story building, that despite the appearance of being uninhabited was in well shape. It's paint was peeling in many places and the yard was overgrown, yet the windows weren't boarded up and all the glass was in the frame. "If you two are going to become Grave Keepers, I need to know if you have the talents for the trade. Most folk can sense a ghost, but only the gifted can truly feel them, hear them, and guide them. I need to see how well you two can do that, and if you can follow simple directions. You need to last till midnight in there, without me holding your hand. If that is too much for you leave now. Otherwise follow me inside for instruction." And with that Ben took the stone steps one at a time opening the door, and entered the most haunted house in Ashtyn.

Nova stood at the foot of the stone steps, gazing up at the building. It was one of those places people went out of their way to avoid. Various rumors and legends floated around the ciy about this house, but one thing everyone could agree on was that th eplace was definitely haunted. One story said that on nights where the mooon is full and the veil is thin, hordes of ghosts inhabit the building, wandering aimlessly, crying out forever lost. The sight of the place sent a shiver down her spine causing her grip on her weapon to tighten significantly. Inhaling slowly, Nova bounded up the steps two at a time until she had reached the door of the house and entered after Benjamin.

The inside wasn't much different from the outside, obviously old and a little run down but it lacked the feeling of abandonment. It was a curious thing that made Nova wonder if someone visited the place regularly to make sure the place stood standing, and what reason they would have for such a task. Shaking her head Nova scanned the inside of the room, her free hand hovering over where her amulet lay hidden for comfort. "Only until midnight? What do you want us to do?" She questioned, feeling the task too easy thus far. Simply lasting the night wouldn't be a real test of their skills, if Ben wanted to know what they were capable of or how compatible with the job they were he would need to make it a lot more challenging than a drunk man's dare. Nova wasn't pleased to have to spend the night in that particular house, but she wasn't about to let her new mentor short-change her and her teammate because they were newbs.

Fourty s- How many?! Oh, my! Spouted Hogarth in disbelief, eyeing the slightly decrepit building's facade up and down. He tried to keep his feet on the ground when it came to hauntings and his job as a Grave Keeper, as he knew that the restless dead were not at all something common to be seen, most alleged sightings being tall tales and ordinary events viewed through the lens of an overactive imagination. But, if the legend himself stated such a thing to be true, then his judgement can surely be trusted. He was excited beyond thought, but quickly, a heavy cloud of doubt fell over him. "Gifted", said Old Ben. He had studied occult lore for as long as he remembered, hell, he was practically raised by it. Yet, a "gift" is not something that comes neither with study, nor good will. What if he were unable to see them at all?

He shook his head, as if to cast such thoughts away. Leave the present to the present, and the future to itself, he thought. There was no room nor use for such ridiculous moping. He was about to enter the single most haunted site of Ashtyn. That unto itself was a grand experience. He retrieved a vial from his bandolier, and, uncorking it with his teeth, poured its' contents onto the blade of his handaxe. He placed the vial back, puffed his chest and followed Nova. The moment he stepped into the old house, his face once again lit up.

Ben didn't miss the annoyance in Nova's voice and the apprehension in Hogarth's. He ignored them for a moment lost in memories, both bitter sweet and painful. In his youth he tried to make it here more often and set the buildings inhabitants at ease. Yet he hadn't been here in over 9 years, he was silent as he reached out and tried to feel them. The ghosts weren't active yet and he doubted the other two would feel them yet. Finally he answered them, "What you two need to do is follow my directions I need to know you can do that. This area draws in the least dangerous form of undead, the lost and confused ghosts. Chances are most of them won't know their even dead. I want you to feel them tonight. Leave them be and just practice sensing them, if your capable you'll know what I mean when they come. If you do good we may have more work to do. Before it gets dark and I have to leave I have a few rules you must follow. 1 stay together, 2 there is a grand piano and a pair of white gloves upstairs do not touch either! 3 your here to observe don't talk to the ghosts, if they get violent fight back or leave. 4, and this is the most important, no matter what you hear don't go into the cellar! Any questions?"

Crossing her arms, Nova sighed with resignation. If tonight was supposed to be a test of their patience, she wasn't doing too well thus far. The presence of death always made her a little anxious, not that she feared them per say, but there was something familiar about the way it felt. Like a thick blanket of fog that she could reach out and grab with her own two hands, just the thought of it sent shivers down her spine.

"And what exactly do you expect we'll hear coming from the cellar?" Pulling a sash from her belt, fastening each end to a designated hook on her weapon shaft. Slipping it over her head, Nova shifted the familiar weight of her scythe to her back so that her hands might be free for the evening. If all they were doing was sensing the spirits within the house, she wasn't going to need her weapon for that... In fact she was sure she would end up offending someone with it and causing unnecessary trouble for her new teammate. With a shake of her head, Nova lifted her right hand and waved it dismissively. "On second thought, I don't want to know. It'll be more interesting this way."

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Nova began wandering about the entry way to give Hogarth some time to ask any questions of his own before she tapped his shoulder. "Come on, I think we should have a look around the place before it gets too much darker. Get familiar with space and all that, you know?"

After hearing Old Ben's instructions, Hogarth was ecstatic. Haunted pianos, dark cellars, cobwebs, looming danger from beyond the grave. Still firmly gripping his handaxe, he raised a brow in curiosity at his comrade's question, and turned back to his boss once she distanced herself. "I must say, I too share miss Nova's curiosity. What exactly is tied to said instrument, and what may dwell within the cellar? Oh! Perhaps a poltergeist in the piano and a spirit host below us? At least that's my guess. Perhaps a Spectre? No, no. Most spirit hosts are, after all commonly located within-" He abruptly ceased talking and delivered a rather embarrassed grin, realizing he had almost began to ramble. He doubted if a display of knowledge, even though spontaneous would not be frowned upon. Shaking his head in an attempt to cast his mania aside, he cleared his throat before rephrasing. "So... Yes. What are we facing here? Oh- and, is distilled Graveroot extract a good choice for making my axe spirit-wounding? Or should I've used spider-moss instead?"



After hearing what Old Ben had to offer, Hogarth's additional barrage of questions was halted before it could even begin by a tap on the shoulder. Realizing he had much more work to do, and that Nova shouldn't be kept waiting anymore, he motioned goodbye to Old Ben with utmost solemnity and followed her, feeling a tad guilty. "Indeed. Good thinking. Pardon the long wait, I just tend to... Lose track of time occasionally." He let loose a small cough-like chuckle and momentarily averted his eyes elsewhere. "Uh, by the way, nifty scythe."