August 14-September 14

[Amber Eyes]

Tell me a story about a stolen ring, a fear of spiders, and a sinister stranger.

I look forward to reading your stories!

[TheOnlyGhost]

There is a tale of three powerful witches that float around Althanas from time to time, one of which fell into the hands of greed when she heard of a legendary treasure. Shame she didn't know that it held a dreadful curse when anyone used it. This is that tale, for it starts in the outskirts of Blight Town:

Izalith, Quelaag, and Quelana were three powerful witches that lived in a small valley in Raiaera by the entrance of Blight Town. "Have you heard of the Old Witch's Silver Arachnid Ring Quelaag and Izalth? It grants it's user one of their most vivid dreams. The ring is seeked by many and desired by all that have heard of it. This is why I chose this destination to live in, for it is located by Blight Town which is only 1/8 of a mile away." said Quelana. Quelaags' ears perked up at the sound of this for her dream was to be the most powerful fire witch in Althanas, for she could abuse the rings power for her own personal gain.

Izaltih chimed in "The entrance to where the ring is hidden is rumored to be guarded, but if true, it shouldn't be hard for the three of us to take whatever or whomever it is down." All three witches nodded in agreement as they headed straight towards Blight Town with only a short cave in the way to the entrance of where the ring lay hidden.

As they entered the cave, it was very dark and very hard to see inside. The walls were made of nothing but solid dirt while the floors had creaky pieces of wood that led deeper into Blight Town. A faint misty like fog could be seen throughout the entirety of the area, along with the smell of a poisonous aura. As they ventured further into the cave, they came across a rickety small bridge that led to a ladder. The three witches climbed down the ladder, the smell of poison was even more apparent as they finally saw the source of it. It was a reasonably sized lake that had a purple hue to it, for the water source was filled with a deadly toxic poison.

They kept heading towards the deadly waters as they came across a man-made wooden open elevator. Powerful wooden gears were powering the elevator using the currents of the poisonous lake to use the large pulley system which raised and lowered the elevator, for it was the only way down to the bottom near the toxic waters edge. The three witches sighed as all of them got on the elevator being careful not to touch the pulley system for it was coated in the deadly toxins as they finally reached the bottom. Up ahead they saw a cave entrance where they could see countless rotten corpses and bones of many travelers who crossed the poison trying to claim the treasure and failed, unfortunately crossing the dreaded waters was the only way across.

"Now what?" said Quelana. "We each cast a poison protection spell and traverse the treacherous lake of toxins." said Izalith. Quelaag nodded in agreement as she began casting the protection spell on all three of them, smirking to herself as she did for she had a plan to betray them both. After the spell was cast, they were a little reluctant at first to put their feet into the deadly substance but had no choice, for they came to far to go back now. Nodding in agreement, all three of them put themselves in the water at the same time smelling the poison with each step they took. "Thank god the spell is working!" for the spells aura was keeping the deadly waters at bay. Quelaag chimed in quickly "Even though my spell is working, this bog is very hard to traverse" for when they got closer to the cave, it got deeper and harder to walk in. "I will use an additional spell to gain better footing and head towards the cave meeting you both on the other end. If it's to deep, I'm willing to sacrifice myself so all three of us will not perish." The other witches nodded in agreement as Quelaag began casting the spell which raised her above the waters letting her walk on it with ease.

She ran towards the other end, finally out of the toxins, and near the caves entrance. She waived at her sisters while smiling as she began casting the poison protection spell again which would turn the aura off. Both Quelana and Izalith realized the deadly truth, they have been betrayed by their own sister! Both of them screamed out at Quelaag "You bitch! May you burn in hell!" as the aura began wilting away, the purple toxic waters began to break through and eat away their flesh quickly. They fell into the water very quickly after their limbs were consumed by the poisons, eating away their flesh as if it were nothing, a brief puddle of blood was all that remained before it too, was consumed into the bog. "Fools" smirked Quelaag as she ventured into the cave where she was certain the ring lay hidden.

Walking for awhile, she came across a strange white sign on the floor near what she thought was the entrance to the treasure. Quelaag knew it was magical and saw something like it before. She knelt to the ground, reading the inscription to herself. Nodding, she cast the spell on the sign to make it active as it began to glow. What Quelaag didn't know, was the magical sign was a trap for it summoned a phantom that was filled with a dark reddish glow. The sinister stranger began to laugh at Quelaag as he pushed her further into the cave where the ring laid to rest, sealing the entrance to the area with a foggy mist that could only be entered, not exited. "The ring is yours fool!" said the sinister stranger as he vanished back into the magical sign on the floor. "What kind of moron would let anyone claim such a treasure? Doesn't the stranger know that it grants the dreams of it's user?"

Quelaag laughed as the ring was finally within her grasps for the taking. Without hesitation, she put the ring on her finger as the smirk on her face got bigger and bigger "Finally! It is mine!" She couldn't stop laughing until she read the insignia on the ring that she rushed to put on without reading it. It read, in an ancient language, the following: "This ring grants the user it's most wanted dream, but at the same time it's worst nightmare." Quelaag, now in shock tried and tried to take the ring off but it was now infused with her finger. Now matter how hard she tried, the ring refused to come off! "No! Please, please no!" she screamed out in pain.

She fell to the ground as her hands started to glow red, and a fiery sword conjured in her hands engulfed in flame, for Quelaag got her most wanted dream. The dream to become the most powerful fire mage, but then the nightmare, the price you pay began to set in. All of her clothes ripped off her body as she started to belt out in pain "The pain! It hurts so bad!" she screamed. Her leg muscles and bones started to break and bend as she heard each and every-one of her bones crack one by one. "Make it stop! Please! AAAaaaarrrgggg!" Her legs multiplied by two, and then two again as she grew a total of eight. They started growing in length, bending more as they did, fusing her toes at the end into a spiny toothed like leg. Giant hairs started to sprout in the thousands as it covered her now arachnid like limbs.

Quelaag managed to get up still belting out in pain for the worst was not over. Gurgling sounds began to emanate in her back as the bottom of her spine started to break and bend underneath overwhelming strain. A hairy abdomen of a spider burst out of her back, large and round full of prickly hair with the hole at the end of it to create webs and silk. The front of her lower half also had the same gurgling sound after that painful event as the head of a giant spider began to emerge and fuse with her body. It had huge razor sharp teeth, eight giant black eyes, and flames coming out of it's mouth. She was now part woman, part spider as she continued to belt out in pain.

After the excruciatingly long and painful transformation, she eventually overcame her immense pain, looking at herself in disgust and disappointment as her worst nightmare became her truth, for her greatest nightmare was to be in the body of a spider, something she was always fearful since birth and now she was one herself.

Quelaag is now indefinitely doomed to be in her cavern until someone releases the foggy sealed door and sets her free, or better yet, ends her misery and kills her. Until that day, all she does is cry until the end of her days. For anyone that dare venture in, she now (after her transformation) looks like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jv4GvxOdwc4


.............

http://i.imgur.com/HqB3H.jpg

[Itera]

There is a realm that is that is both finite in size and yet can fit any given hippo an infinite number of times over, which is only paradoxical if one isn't a dabbling hyperdimensional topologist. The sky is very purple and filled with red eyes. The ground exists only as an idea that one can stand on, rather than a thing that one can see. The whole place is inside a Fairy of Boundaries named Itera, who can often be found in it.

In one part of this place, there is a wooden table, stolen from a wine-merchant's house. On that table is a breadbox, stolen in fairness from the house of the wine-merchant's main competitor. In front of both was standing an irritated Fairy of Boundaries who had just realized that the last leg of the stool of fairness was that someone had stolen her cake. Which was stolen in the first place.

It had been a gorgeous cake made by a baker who made the best cakes in his plaza, town, and township. Since bits of his cakes were often passed around as gifts on important days like birthdays, weddings, and days on which the sun rose, advertising was practically unnecessary for him. Other than the long line of people at his door, his shop was only marked with a simple sign stating: "Amolet and Daughters. Cakes."

Master Amolet had two apprentices and two daughters; the three of them together managed to make nearly a hundred cakes of various sizes every day. Through a combination of adamant refusal to raise prices any higher than reasonable and the instant blacklisting of any customer who tried to engage in cake arbitrage, Master Amolet now had a waiting list thick enough to be used as a weapon in defense of the shop. He had never needed to defend the shop; the robbers coming in the front door had a ready-made lynch mob to contend with. A few thieves coming by the back door had left disappointed and recipe-less.

Before now, he had not had a thief coming by rift in broad daylight. He had not noticed the cake missing, either, since he sold it to its rightful customer just the same, though he had to replace a mysteriously missing icing strawberry.

That afternoon, Itera popped open a little rift near the cake cooling table and stared at them suspiciously. She waited until the room was empty and then took a four-inch cake. She set it down inside her pantry and stared at it suspiciously. She blinked.

The cake was gone.

There was a cake sitting in the place where she had taken the original from. After two more tries, Itera came to the conclusion that these were magic cakes and Amolet was a magic baker. Aware of it or not, he had shown up (what Itera believed to be) one of his betters. It was punishment time.

Amolet was awoken that night by the sudden appearance of both of his daughters, their pillows, and a lot of sobbing. This was all the more disconcerting because they hadn't jumped into their parents' bed since the ages of five and six, respectively. His wife Tabitha eased out a coherent story from the elder one first. Apparently there were several big, black spiders under their bed and their many red eyes were full of hate. Children and their imaginations.

Feredor Amolet picked up a broom and dustpan, just in case, and walked across the hallway. This caught him entirely unprepared when he opened the door and a many-legged arachnid tide poured out of the room. There wasn't any biting, per se, but it is horribly disconcerting to suddenly feel a dozen things crawl up your legs and into dangerous parts under your nightgown. From the direction of the master bedroom, there were screams.

The dustpan and the broom hit the floor and were swallowed up. Feredor Amolet raised his hands and began chanting, hurriedly, his wedding ring glowing bright red in the night. Three minutes later, there were no more spiders in his house, just spider corpses. He picked up the dustpan and the broom and started on the exceedingly messy cleanup.

Itera closed and sanitized the rift into the deep, spider-spawning bit of forest and considered the new observations. She wasn't in the habit of speaking to herself, but everything had become clear to it. This was one of those human 'wizards'. He used his ring to do magic. Presumably, if she steals the ring, then she could start having cake. Now, when did humans take off their rings?

Three days later, Itera was moving from interest to annoyance once again. The jerk never took off his ring, ever. It seems like she'll have to do the deed by force. She picked the dead of night to open a rift over his bed, leaned out of it, and gently reached for his hand with a little butter.

The hand twisted in Itera's grip and seized her wrist with terrible strength. Amolet's other hand lifted the blanket and wrapped it around the surprised fairy's neck, pulling her out of her rift entirely. Tabitha Amolet née Ripfenc smashed her good iron pan over the intruder's head, and there suddenly the pain of iron and then darkness.

"You cheated." Itera finally said, wrapped uncomfortably in an iron chain borrowed from the furnace bellows. It was nearly dawn.

"By what rules?" Amolet was seated on the bed, one foot on Itera's hip, the other up on his knee while its toenails were being clipped.

"Mine."

"I don't think that we're playing by your rules. My house, my rules, and my rules say that the clever little fairy trying to spy out of a gap for days gets a pan in the noggin'." Clip.

"You weren't supposed to know."

"Surprising thing, that. When you've spent as long as I have in the adventuring business, you learn to spot a few things out of the ordinary. I was pretty good at it, you know. They called me Amolet the Treasure-Caller. Unimaginative, sure, but it looks very good on a resume."

Itera puffed up her cheeks and looked away. She liked being yammered at about as much as she liked being set on fire. The alternate sight, that of two righteous-looking, very-nearly-teenage girls eagerly holding rolling pins, was no better.

"All that running around the wilderness trying to kill things and take their stuff? Well, it's a hell of a lot easier if you could just make their stuff come to you rather than have to face down ten upset ogres wanting to splash your insides all over the outside. Mind, they usually came chasing after their stuff right afterwards, but that's what running away is for. Not that I had intended on that line of work, when I first started studying."

Clip. A piece of toenail bounced off of Itera's cheek. She looked back up sharply.

"After I retired, I couldn't very well just go around with a robe, a pointy hat, and a big staff with the knob on the end anymore. So... enchanted the ring. It's got some history to, you know. Stole it from Tabitha's step-father, the drunkard. Stole her, too, come to think of it."

"It isn't stealing if I comes willingly, dear."

"Sorry, dear. Anyways, where was I? Oh, yes." Clip. "It was a good idea, too. Enchanted to help me really see the cake as it's forming. Bakery magic. You ever wonder why nobody ever stole any of my goods? They always come right back unless I give them willingly. It's actually a rather complicated spell; I'm quite proud of it."

"You can't win, human."

Amolet finished his last toe before sighing, "I know, I know. I can't turn you in, because you'll get out with hardly a thought and then where would I be? On my toes and watching my back for the rest of my days, that's what. I got out of the business because of that reason. And the food. Road food is horrible, did you know? So, how about we come to an understanding?"

Two days later, Itera leaned out of a rift in the cooling table. The younger daughter waggled her tray at the fairy in mock warning, "Just the one at the end of the table, or momma's gonna pop you another one." The girl turned and hurried out to the storefront with a new load. The counter was packed with people because orders were suddenly being filled four or five times faster than ever before. The secret was that the backend of Amolet's bakery was now rather larger on the inside than the outside, especially in the ovens. Word was spreading that he was seeking new apprentices, with some of the more speculative words being that he was also seeking son-in-laws.

Now, Itera had cake every day.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

"Miss, are you sure there isn't anything I can help you with? Can I get you a sandwich? You look awfully hungry..."

I looked up from my book to see the waitress. She was dressed in a very plain but well-kept brown dress, an apron draped around her neck and wrapped tightly around her plump waist. Her pleading blue eyes showed a sort of workplace naivete; a person ready and willing to cater to the whims of every customer who walked through the door and sat at one of her tables.

I reached over and gave my undecorated porcelain cup a quick swirl. Turning back to my waitress, I handed her the cup--my fourth since arriving--and spoke plainly, "I'll have another tea, please."

The young thing searched my face for a brief second. "A slice of carrot cake? A chocolate panini? A salad? Just to hold you over until your friend arrives?"

"No thanks, just the tea. Nothing more. Please." I flashed her a quick, dismissive smile. The poor thing turned and walked back to the counter. Granted, she was starting to get very pushy--approaching me every ten minutes, trying to force a menu into my hands. But I wasn't there for the food (which is pretty delicious, I'd like to point out), but instead for a little business meeting.

See, in the months after my precious little bookstore burned down--including all my secret stashes of rare books and alchemical ingredients that I housed on the second floor--I had slowly found a new purpose in life. All my life, no matter how much my dear family had tried to suppress my dreams by forcing me down the path of the assassin, I wanted to become an alchemaster. I wanted to know the darkest secrets of the science; I selfishly craved mastery over posions and potions, and the potential power that could bring me. Oh, did I make a few enemies in high places? Let's poison the village they lord over and put their virgin daughters into a centuries-long slumber, just like the in the old bedtime stories.

I also had other motivations, of course... But I'd rather not talk about that. Quite frankly, it's none of your business.

But the reason I had come to this little roadside cafe a little bit outside Underwood was... Well... There's a machinist of some infamy working out of Scara Brae. Mostly small trinkets used by ne'er-do-wells such as myself in their everyday work life. I've fended off a few attempts on my life over the years that involved his handywork, which was how I became familiar with him in the first place. He was simply known as Malachai, and had studied in Alerar for decades before relocating to Scara Brae and setting up shop.

And he was keeping me waiting, the rude fuck.

I got in touch with him through a mutual friend who happened to be a customer of his. Apparently, he was very familiar with my family name, and was willing to strike up a small partnership once I informed him of my current doings and future aspirations. After a few letters back and forth, I pieced together bits of information to get an idea of his latest invention. I pitched him a few ideas, and we struck a deal; I'd supply him with a small vial of poison brewed to his specifications, and he'd show me his little invention, since Malachai was nothing if not a braggart. To unveil his little tinkerings to a descendant of one of the best families in the business must have felt like such an honor to him.

Several minutes after the waitress had brought me another cup of tea--silently, this time--a bright bell chime rung through the cafe. I looked towards the front door to see a thin man clad in a black leather duster and a wide-brimmed hat to match walk through. His dress code clashed horribly with the bright pastels of the cafe as he looked around the place, giving an audible suck on his teeth before locking eyes with me.

He was not a handsome gentleman; Tanned and rough around the edges, with an unshaved face that had a scar going across the bridge of his wide nose. When he saw me, he gave a curt nod and weaved his way around the other patrons before stopping at my table.

His voice was rather gruff and meanacing. "Ms. Freebird, I presume."

"Who wants to know?"

"We have business to discuss."

"I'm not aware of any debts that I have yet to pay, and I'm certain there's no price on my head. Now begone, I'm waiting for someone." I turned my attention to my tea and took a long sip. It could've used a bit more sugar, but otherwise it was quite pleasant.

The man's dark eyes narrowed. "You mistake me for a common thug?"

"You look and certainly smell the part."

"And I expected the descendant of a famous family of assassins to be a bit easier on the eyes herself. You have business with me, Ms. Freebird. My name is Malachai."

The man had no tact, that's for certain. If he was who he claimed to be, it'd be forgiviable having no manners whatsoever based on the fact that it's hard to develop social skills when you're slaving away at a workbench for sixteen hours a day. I set my cup of tea down and shot him a steely gaze. "Prove it."

He took his likewise black leather gloves off and set them on the table in front of me. He twisted a gold ring off of one of his fingers. The band itself wasn't out of the ordinary; it had several dozen deep indentations across the ring, with three modest crystal jewels set next to each other adorning it. He set the ring in the palm of his hand, brought it up to his lips, and whispered a word or two in a foreign language. The band then did something rather interesting. As he set it on the table, the band detached itself one or two gashes from the crystal, revealing two thin and incredibly sharp-looking spikes. Then, the band straightened itself out and actually started to move autonomosly across the table, slithering around on its belly as if it were a miniature snake.

I leaned forward, impressed. "Take a seat, Malachai," I said as I pushed out his chair with my feet.

The glint in his eye as he watched his little creation scurry around in random patterns on the table was very much like a proud parent watching their baby take its first few steps. Malachai removed his hat, revealing a thick, bushy mop of of black hair that was thick with the grease of several days travel and set it on top of his gloves. He folded his hands on the table and grinned childishly at me. "So? What do you think?"

"I think this is pretty amazing," I replied in truth. What I was looking at was essentially a golden snake, very small and easily concealed. I didn't have to ask him what the possible applications could be in my old profession; and had I still been in the game, I would've wanted several for myself. But, I still had questions. "I can see how most of it works, but how is it moving on its own?"

"Company secret," the tinkerer said with a grin. "All I'm willing to say is that it's heavily enchanted, and can respond to several commands. Like this." He picked up the snake with his dirty hands and whispered another word. The band immediately stopped squirming around and folded itself back into the shape of a ring.

"That's pretty cool."

"Yeah, isn't it?" He brought the ring back to his mouth and whispered the first word again. The band unfolded back into the two-fanged golden snake, and slid out of his hand to coil itself within the shadow cast by my tea cup.

The waitress, sensing that my guest had arrived, quietly moved towards my table with two menus. "I see your guest has arrived, finally. Can I get you something to eat now?" She shoved the menus in our faces.

Before Malachai could get a word in edgewise, I pushed the menus back and coldly replied, "Ten more minutes." The waitress pursed her lips and silently turned away, skulking back to the counter to help other customers.

The inventor turned my attention back towards him. "So, out of curiousity, why did you want to meet up here?"

"We're in the public eye, so it pretty much guarantees that neither of us will try to do anything stupid. I only know you by name and reputation, and I'm certain that you've heard many things about me and the things I've done. And we're just two people, hanging out in a cafe, talking business. We won't be bothered"

"Fair enough," he grunted. "I assume you broght the vial?"

I nodded and reached into one of my pockets, producing a small glass vial filled with a dark blue liquid. A more devious grin crossed Malachai's hairy face as he took my cup off of the saucer it was sitting on. "Go ahead and pour a few drops onto the plate, Ms. Freebird. I want to show you something."

I did as I was told. Seven neat drops of the poisonous liquid collected on the porcelain. The golden snake perked up, climbed up onto the saucer, and slithered towards the poison. It stuck the spikes of its "mouth" into the poison and began to drink. The three crystals began to fill up, turning a darkened shade of blue in the process.

I watched with a little awe as Malachai spoke in hushed tones. "I liked your suggestion of having the hollowed crystals for more storage. See, the spikes were designed to both take in and inject anything that's in liquid form. I'm sure I don't need to explain anything further. And for the record; the, er, 'bite' from this thing? It can't be detected by the naked eye, and even with any sort of sight amplification you'd be hard-pressed to find any evidence left behind."

All I could manage to say was "Huh." In truth, this was pretty amazing stuff; the possibilities for assassins were practically endless. Murder a target with two little pin pricks, without any danger to yourself? It almost seemed too good to be true.

Malachai leaned back in his chair, sighing. "Of course, the design isn't perfect. You can't just tell it the name of your target and send it on its merry way. You need some sort of item they can track the target with--a strand of hair, a flake of skin, a drop of blood, or something. On top of that, it has a relatively short range and needs to have the enchantments recharged frequently."

"It's a start, though. How do you make it so it won't attack you by mistake?"

The tinkerer shrugged. "All part of the enchantments, I guess. I'm not entirely sure; I have friends who take care of that part. For all I know, there's no way to prevent it from going after you. I just design and build the things." Fair enough, I reckon.

All in all, it was an impressive little thing. I fearlessly placed my hand down on the table. Like a very tiny, golden, jewel-encrusted hamster, it climbed into my palm and started exploring.

Several thoughts entered my head. I had set up this meeting for one reason; just not the one that Malachai had known. All I needed was an opening.

Malachai leaned in towards me. "So, about these poisons of yours..."

A scream came from behind the counter, along with a crash of glass and the plop of some poor sap's lunch. The pushy waitress scrambled from behind it, her apron flowing through the air as she ran. "Eek! There's a giant spider in the sink! Somebody kill it! Somebody kill it!"

Malachai turned to see what the fuss was about, and I made my move. Within a split second, I grabbed the band by its, er, "neck", and jammed the spikes into the exposed veins on the back of the inventor's left hand. I dragged his hand to the center of the table with my other hand, covering up what I was doing and giving us the appearance of a couple sharing a quaint moment.

"Aah--!" He jerked around, and a furious fire filled his eyes as he shot me a terrible look. I greeted him with an ice-cold gaze in return. "Yes, about these poisons of mine," I began in calm tones. "Luckily for you, I didn't bring the concoction you gave me the formula for; if I had, you'd be dead now. No; instead, you will feel like death, and you will honestly come very close to it. But you will survive. You'll be sick for a week or two at the most. But you will live."

Malachai was beginning to convulse. His face was twitching uncontrollably, and his dark eyes were beginning to go north inside his head. I had little time left with him. Patting his hand, I continued. "Don't be too mad; I truly am a big fan of your work. But I have to take this ring now. I won't tell you why, because that's none of your business. I would also tell you that I'm sorry, but you won't remember today. That's part of the poison's effects." I put on my best pity face, shrugged once, and let go of the tinkerer's hand, removing the band in the process. The three crystals were completely drained of the poison.

Malachai's bulky frame collapsed to the floor of the cafe, deathly pale and convulsing. His eyes were fully rolled back in his skull, and a thin trail of puke was flowing out of his mouth. I brought my hands up to my face, whispering the word that he had used to revert the band back into a ring. Sliding the ring onto a finger, I let out a blood-curdling scream.

Everyone's attention turned to me, and then to Malachai. Another employee rushed to us, while the other patrons sort of stood up from the tables and stared, unsure of what they should be doing. Shouts were going up everywhere. Was he okay? What happened? Did he have anything to eat here? What did he drink? Any known allergies?

Several of the other patrons stepped forward. I found it a perfect time to excuse myself. "I'll go get help! Where's the nearest doctor?"

The employee at Malachai's side told me that one could be found about a quarter of a mile down the road, in the village proper. I burst out the door running, leaving the cafe behind me. After several seconds, I slowed myself down to a stroll, disappearing into the hustle and bustle of the busy little town of Underwood.

[Mordelain]

Well, I would like to apologise on behalf of the judging staff for the delay in this. Reasons aside, by way of apology, you will all receive the 10% award for 1st place (with adjusted gold to account for the excellent experience).


The Only Ghost receives 300 experience and 100 gold.

BlackandBlueEyes receives 600 experience and 100 gold.

Itera receives 300 experience and 100 gold.

For strength of clarity, accordance with the brief, and the excellent use of the classic 'is there a doctor in the house' cliché, Black And Blue Eyes receives an additional 100 gold by way of a 1st place extra.

Three very good vignettes, on the whole - nice use of media to evoke extra sensory revulsion, Ghost!

[Letho]

EXP/GP added.