Roland had often requested some rather mundane tasks of him over the years, but cleansing the upper towers due to mere superstition had to be one of the biggest wastes of time yet. The two of them had spent their entire lives in this castle and his father had ensured that there were no spirits wandering the halls. Hell - he himself had spent quite some time looming in the rafters and attics for the sake of quiet and privacy during his youth. (Nobody tended to these sections of the castle. They were simply storage at this point.)

Still - he had to do it.

The crisp scent of burning sage filled the room with a rather pleasant air that made all this slightly less irritating than it'd normally be. Cedric had figured that the most basic of methods would be enough to appease the King and using something with a noticeable effect would warrant a pass to relax for the evening. Perhaps he'd spend some nostalgic time up in the towers? The servants were always putting new unwanted belongings up and away from the main rooms. Certainly, there'd be some interesting things Roland had thrown up to practically waste away?

Placing the ornate bowl that he had used to hold the smoldering herbs on a box, Cedric would begin to examine the piles of goods that lined the room. Sheet-draped paintings and one too many statues of a most annoying visitor were scattered about the room in a somehow organized fashion. It seems that Baileywick had decided to keep such valuables together - most likely in case of trades or if somebody questioned where such gifts had gone when not displayed. Curiosity took hold of him and the bored sorcerer would begin to take a peek under the sheets carefully, trying to gauge who sent self-portraits and which of these works of art might actually be something interesting.

One of the paintings - that of a rather well groomed male caught his eye rather quickly. The portrait was…unfinished - yet showed symptoms of age such as dulling colors and an oddly scratched up cherry-wood frame. The subject's face hadn't been close to completion so he couldn't quite make out who it could possibly be. Despite several missing details, the sorcerer could make out that the man's clothing was at least a couple hundred years from before their time. The hat - bridled with a feather - perhaps indicated that the subject was a captain of some sort? Or was that sort of thing in fashion back then for the monarchy? It was hard to tell.

It wasn't the sheer oddity of such a worn-down painting that had caught the sorcerers eye, no. It was the odd glimmer that danced momentarily across it that piqued his interest. It was something he had only read about in his texts but it indicated to him that Roland may not have been wrong. There was an enchantment of some sort upon this and judging from the fact that the hair upon his neck was standing on end despite his lack of intense anxiety…it was a spirit of some sort. This painting was obviously occupied by something - dead or alive.

There was always something nerve wracking about working around or with spirits. Did his attempt at cleansing cause whatever it was to retreat to the painting or was it simply hiding? Despite his fears, Cedric couldn't help but call out to whatever it was in hiding to inquire. After-all, it wasn't every day an occupied castle had an additional resident of such caliber.

"Are you the one whose b-been causing so much trouble?"

"Me? Trouble. Oh - no, no, no."

So there was something in there.

Cedric had to hold back in his typical girlish yelp as he took a startled step back from the painting, head cocking as he tried to inspect the shimmering energy once more. Was this thing friendly? Considering the reports were just noises and objects slightly moving…he didn't have much to fear, but still he couldn't help but feel unease about this. (Also slight disdain he'd actually need to do real work.)

"If you're not causing trouble - why are you here?" Cedric inquired as he shuffled his way slightly closer towards the painting, still trying to asses the danger of the situation.

"I'm just relaxing, my good sorcerer. Wherever the painting goes - I go. Nobody quite wants it so I suppose I'm a bit homeless. A traveler, if you may consider."

A traveling ghost? That was the first Cedric had ever heard of such a thing but if the spirit was bound to a physical object…it'd be stuck in the vicinity of that object until the spirit had either passed on or something happened to it's binding object. (Not a good thing - for sure.) Still, this was something out of a storybook and the sorcerer couldn't help but feel his nerves slowly begin to ease themselves. A painting that nobody wants resounded quite heavily with him.

"I'm guessing my liege will be inclined to pass you on once more sometime in the future then?"

"Perhaps. I don't particularly mind being up here, though. It's quiet and there's plenty of space. I do promise if you don't purge me or something I will behave."

This was a most awkward conversation. Was this ghost bargaining for it's freedom to haunt the attics? Was it as scared as he was? Quite possibly considering Cedric technically did have the power to forcefully remove this spirit from this plane. Granted, he'd have to pick up a few extra supplies from his workshop - something he didn't quite feel like doing. Pity had also taken hold of him upon the mention of nobody wanting such a rugged painting. This spirit obviously hadn't had an actual home since it passed. It was a rare occurrence for him but Cedric felt like he could relate somewhat to this spirit's plight.

"Well - I suppose if I don't hear from the maids I won't be needing to come up here to deal with you, yes?" Cedric would chime after a momentary pause of consideration, "If they think I shoo'd out any ghosts they will assume you are gone."

"Many thanks to you my good sir!", the voice would exclaim with an excited cheer, "Here I thought you were going to do the worst to me."

"You can thank my lack of aptitude for your residency here, ghost."

"Please! Call me Sir Dax. Tis' what everybody calls me."

"Cedric. Cedric the Sorcerer. Now, if you'll excuse me I have a cup of tea and some potions to attend to. Do not have me come up here again, "Sir". For your own sake."

And with that - and a slight cringe dancing down his spine - Cedric would gather his tools and turn to make his way back down to the main halls, a lazy yet still prominent wave goodbye towards the painting as he approached the door. While he would have rather not encountered something such as what he had just came across - it was better to negotiate than actually have to do any real work. Hopefully he would not be speaking to this "Dax" again.