Morning mist

[Thorn]

And there, by break of day, the servants of the dagger saw it, as they went about their morning business. A servant maid had come running back in from early sweeping of the porch, screaming about seeing a spectre. A spirit that now remained as constant vigil, until the full rays of the sun hit it. She saw it amongst the early morning mist, resting quietly upon that very railing.

A woman, tall, dressed in a long surcoat; all white, and semi transparent by the first rays of the sun. Long tapering ears held two earrings, one hoop in each. Long hair had fallen past shoulders down the wraith's back, and eyes of feline had looked upon her, mouth crooked and holding a rather familiar pipe. It was here that the shadow had smoked its pipe thoughtfully, until its body soon disappated in the morning glow.

It was seen again, to be flopped in a local chair; one that Thorn had sat in, where Quincy was known to jump on her, and scare the living daylights out of her. The spectre sat thoughtful there as well, nothing more then in thought. A very peculiar look indeed, as a phantom mug had appeared beside her; a stein full of ale, very much like one that Pritchard had behind the counter.

The creature would be gone by noon; the servants unsure whether or not it would come to return.