You arrived in Ravengro just this morning with little time to find the cemetery before the funeral begins. As you arrive you see several people dressed in black, most pay you no mind but each of you are approached by a woman who is finely dressed with puffy cheeks and red eyes.
”Welcome I hope you are not too tired from your journey.” She wipes a few stray tears away with her sleeve. ”I am Kendra Lorrimor, you must be one of the old friends my father asked to attend. I have black cloaks prepared for you if needed, but otherwise my father asked for you to be one of his pallbearers. You don't have to accept but it would be greatly appreciated.”
The idea of carrying a corpse seems rather off-putting to Edekar, but he knows that Lorrimor would've slapped him and told him to stop being so squeemish. If he could. But in Ustalav, anything is possible, especially anything that involves the living dead. The thought goes full circle in Ekedar's head and he nods at Kendra, accepting the request. It is best to appease the dead .. "But of course, I'd be honored to."
Little difference is what Alek saw when he arrived at the funeral; yes customs were different, so were the styles of clothing and of course the method of preparation, but the ghosts of tragedy loomed over them all the same, this funeral was no different in spirit than any other he'd been to, he hoped to be done with this as soon as he could, but knew that the sense of loss and grief would tail him like a shadow after he left. The morning sun did little to lighten the mood, and the sea of black coats, cloaks and dresses seemed to strip everything else from view, save for the forest of grey gravestones that surrounded them, each with its own tale of loss and sadness.
Alek took a long deep breath, pulled on the front edge of his hat and tipped it downwards, causing a mask of shadow to come over his face You'll be missed professor He bid the man he owed goodbye mentally, before turning and taking note of the woman that closed the distance between them.
”Welcome I hope you are not too tired from your journey.” She wipes a few stray tears away with her sleeve. ”I am Kendra Lorrimor, you must be one of the old friends my father asked to attend. I have black cloaks prepared for you if needed, but otherwise my father asked for you to be one of his pallbearers. You don't have to accept but it would be greatly appreciated.”
The daughter, I think I heard he had a daughter discounting the frown that was on his face, Alek expression was fairly neutral "I would be glad if he thought of me as a friend, in all honesty he helped more than I could him" The man's eyes peered at the grieving woman from beyond the shadowy wraps that slightly obscured his face "If there is no one else of his friends deemed closer, I'll do it" He answered simply and then looked to the black haired man who stood next to them.
"You knew him?" He asked seemingly out of nowhere, his focus shifting swiftly from Kendra to the individual who just offered to be one of the pallbearers.
The town was small so she had no trouble finding where to go. As she walks up a woman who looks like she has been crying comes to greet her. After she introduces herself, A'isha speaks.
"Yes, I have come at the request of your father."
Before she says anything else, A'isha takes the woman with the tear-stained face into a comforting embrace and wraps her arms around her.
"I know it hurts. Just remember all the things you loved about him and it will help lessen the pain." she whispers into Kendra's ear.
Releasing her, she stands back.
"Nothing would give me greater joy than being a pallbearer for him."
Hearing the strange man with the battered hat speak, she looked over at the somehow familiar voice.
"That voice. Who does that remind me of?" she thinks as she scours her mind for why he seems so familiar.
While A'isha wears varying items and equipment, the thing that draws the attention of anyone who casually observes her is a symbol of Sarenrae around her neck.
Arrila scans the crowd looking at the faces. She tugs her hood tighter around her head hiding her elven ears. She knows that the people of Ustalav are very superstitious and does not want to cause any problems at her friends funeral. She is approached by Kendra who speaks.
Arrila responds. "I would be honored to carry your father if this was his request."
She scans the crowd again looking for any other pallbearers that Kendra may have approached.
While reaching for the front edge of his hat with his fingers, Alek's eyes moved towards the woman who introduced herself A'isha, his face becoming completely impassive as a storm of emotion began raging within him Same name, the face is not unfamiliar The Ustalav native tipped his hat upwards But she wouldn't have a reason to be here He looked to the ground as his arm fell by his side.
Just what I needed at a funeral, a reminder of the last one I attended Alek began massaging his forehead and then he heard yet another person offer to become a pallbearer, which reminded him of The daughter, how could I forget that she has experience with the arcane He looked at the saddened daughter of the professor once more I'd best not linger once the funeral's done, the last thing she'd need is old friends of her father reminding her that he's gone, she doesn't need that His eyes glanced towards A'isha once more before returning to Kendra Yes it would be best if I don't linger, but...
"If there is anything you need help with, just ask the local inn keep for Alek" Your father's helped me through a rough time in my life, only fair I do the same Said the brown haired man, his voice sounding quite sincere.
"Well you are one of a few who are to be present at the reading of my fathers will, so I would ask for you to follow me after we lay him to rest."
"Thank you" She sniffles and puts on a small smile.
You see three others moving towards the finely made coffin.
Arrila watches three others moving towards the coffin. She hopes to have a moment with Lorrimor before they put him in his final resting place, to say goodbye. She slowly walks towards the coffin reminiscing on that first lecture she ever heard Lorrimor give. The lecture that started their friendship and led her to be here today.
Arrila reaches the coffin and looks down at it.
Rhia looks out of the carriage window, the gloomy sky reflecting her mood. Though she knew that the Professor would be with the Lady of the Graves now, and that she should celebrate his life, the fact was that she would sorely miss the old man and their late night converastions over mulled wine.
It was he who had helped her come to understand her unique gift and truly embrace the connection she had with Pharasma's realm.
As the carriage rumbles to a stop she gathers herself, the door opened for her by the spirit of the ever chivalrous Guylain, her great uncle who often took on such roles.
I wonder if I'll get to see him like this, just once
The sky seems ready to weep as she exits the coach into the town square, a vision of somber ethereal beauty, dressed in flowing black and silver for the occasion, the deeply cowled hood of her cloak plunging her beautiful face in shadow, a reflection of the deep emotions she was feeling.
As overcast as the day is, the very air seems to mourn the Professor's passing. Those in already in the manor feel gooseflesh rise along their skin as the air chills slightly, faint mist coming from the mouths of all in attendance as the small crowd parts without truly realizing why.
The delecate, wraithlike figure seems to glide forward, her cloak moving against the wind almost as if under water as it wraps around her form.
Alongside her, almost unnoticeable, the grass bends as if depressed by another pair of feet to her left and a little behind her.
As she lifts her head, grey eyes,of an almost crystalline clarity gaze out of a face at once both youthful and ageless, filled with an awareness far beyond imagination.
Those eyes pass over the assembled group occasionally seeming to stop on nothing, nodding to something unseen.
Looking at Kendra she moves forward to embrace her.
"He's so proud of you, you know. I'd be honored to help."
Four hours ago...
Stefan re-read the letter for what seemed the hundredth time. It was late afternoon, and the sound of the horses and the creaking of the private coach was lulling Stefan into an almost dreamlike state. It was hard to imagine the world without his dear friend Petros Lorrimor. I hated him when I first met him, he mused. He was so tough on all of his students, and woe betide anyone who hadn't done the assigned reading! That one lecture that he made poor Anya squirm by peppering her with question after question that he knew she couldn't answer... but none of us ever skipped an assignment after that! He smiled in his reverie, as he knew that his old professor used that prickly demanding persona to bring out the best in his students' scholarship... and if students earned the professor's respect, how he could become a mentor and a friend. He reminisced about those evenings at the public house discussing philosophy, arcana, and history with Andrei and Professor Lorrimor... and of how the professor had been so comforting and fatherly after Andrei's death.
Stefan broke out of his reverie when he heard the sound of three arrows striking the side of the coach, and a man shouting, "Hold, or the next three go in your chest!" The coach lurched to a stop. Stefan peered out of the coach windows, and saw four dark-haired men approach the coach, each holding a cocked and loaded crossbow. He briefly considered attempting to ensorcel them, but realized that he was unarmed and outnumbered, and that he'd heard stories of bandits kidnapping wizards to take advantage of their power. He decided to wait, but he first hid his wizard's ring, a gift from his grandfather.
The bandits were only interested in treasure. They went through Stefan's baggage, leaving mainly clothing and a few odd items-- they took just about everything of value, including his doctor's bag and his coin purse. He'd managed to hide a dagger, his cane, and a handful of coins beneath the seat, and the bandits didn't find those. After a few minutes, they retreated into the forest. Stefan re-packed his scattered belongings, and tended the coachman, who was also rather shaken.
"I am so sorry this happened! Regrettably, they took the money I was going to pay you with." He retrieved a sheet of paper and a pen and wrote a letter to his lawyer, sealing it with his signet. "After we arrive in Ravengro, you can drop me off and return straight away to Lepidstadt. Give this letter to my solicitor, and he will pay you for the trip, plus a little extra for the trouble."
Fortunately, the rest of the journey was as unremarkable as the first part.
* * *
Wearing a black frock coat over a starched white shirt and scarlet cravat, black leather trousers, polished leather boots, and a black top hat, Stefan arrives at the funeral with a look of true sorrow on his face. Doffing his hat, he bows before Professor Lorrimor's daughter, taking her hand. "Miss Lorrimor, I am so sorry for your loss. Your father was a great man, and a dear friend. I wish we were meeting under happier circumstances."
Surprised to have be asked to be a pallbearer, Stefan accepts the task as an honor-- his last duty to an old friend.
Replacing his black silk top hat atop a head just starting to gray, he looks about the assembly. Not recognizing anyone in the crowd, Stefan extends his hand to the man with the wide-brimed hat and introduces himself. "I'm Dr. Stefan von Herzog. Petros was one of my teachers back in the day, and we'd become friends at the University of Lepidstadt. I regret that we're meeting under these circumstances."
He greets the others similarly: the Qadiran woman, the woman of elvish descent, the young man with curly black hair, and the thin woman with an air of mystery.
This is indeed a sorrowful way to meet new people.
A subtle chill ran up Alek's spine as he saw the woman clad in black and silver embrace Kendra, he pulled his coat on tighter Wonder how the professor met her Alek stared at the woman for a few moments, unable to shake away the strange presence she seemed to have afflicted them with, but at the same time he surprisingly didn't feel any direct danger.
"I'm Dr. Stefan von Herzog. Petros was one of my teachers back in the day, and we'd become friends at the University of Lepidstadt. I regret that we're meeting under these circumstances."
Hazel eyes turned towards the man with the top hat, and soon an extended hand reached out to shake the offered palm "My name is Alek" He replied simply "The professor helped me with some issues I was dealing with" Alek exhaled and looked to where the coffin was "We rarely get to pick the circumstances of our meetings or farewells for that matter"
"Alek. That was his name. I wonder what became of him after the...it happened."
Sighing softly, A'isha moves to the casket in preparation of carrying to its destination.
When the man who called himself Herzog addresses her, she acknowledges him with a nod of her head.
"There will be time after this for proper introductions. Now is best for reverence." she thinks solemnly.
A nervous smile greeted Alek followed by a hasty nod,"Yes, I knew him. The name is Edekar, Edekar Avad. It was the tapestry of the great beyond that brought us together and here I am, carrying my friend to say goodbye as he is off to determine whether or not our theories and thoughts were right. Sometimes, life writes itself." It is obvious that Edekar seems rather intimidated by all that is going on: a man outside his comfort zone.
Kendra clears her throat loudly so all can hear her. "If the pallbearers could take their place we will begin our walk on the dreamwake."
As you all take your places you lift the finely made coffin and follow Kendra as she leads the procession through The Restlands. As you reach the halfway point turning onto the Eversleep you see the path blocked by about a dozen surly looking locals led by an tall elderly man who calls out. "That's far enough.
"You know what isn't far enough? You and our way, I suggest you fix that before I put down this coffin and fix it for you" The voice of the man in the long coat rang with clear annoyance and hints of anger. His eyes unabashedly showering the crowd with a glare that mirrored the feelings heard in his words.
A heavy weight leaned down on Edekar's shoulders and the man noticed how his lips were dry as old parchment. Luckily Alek took the lead, giving him someone to follow instead of having to take the lead. "Yes, let us pay our last respects to our friend professor Lorrimor. Pharasma does not smile upon those who would interrupt a funeral!"
Clever thinking, Edekar!
"Gentlemen, please." A'isha says while addressing the elderly man.
"There is no need for such lack of civility here. We are here for a funeral, not a fight. Let us pay our respects and then we can discuss this properly. Come, join me. Maybe afterwards we can speak of the good things Sarenrae brings us in life." she says in a very welcoming tone. A'isha is clearly non-threatening and makes no moves that could be misconstrued.
"Agreed, gentlemen. Please let us pass so that we may bury your neighbor, who was our dear friend."
And if they can't be dissuaded by words, I might have some magic for them... Stefan brings to mind the words of a spell to frighten the simple-minded.
"Gibs maybe we were wrong to do this, he never did no harm." Said a farm hand who stepped up to the elderly man.
"Mattin I know what I'm doing." He snapped back, he looked back at the six pallbearers for a moment. "Fine bury the old fool." Most of the mob go up the road some mumbling quitley Gibs gumbling loudly follows them, a few linger to the side waiting to join the procession as it passes.
Kendra turns to all of you. "Thank you for your quick action I fear that coud've turned worse by the looks of them."
The rest of the walk to the professor's grave goes by uneventful. Upon reaching the grave site you a see a bald elderly man dressed in black and two men who stand to the side holding shovels. Kendra walks up to the elderly man and the two share a short conversation before he turns to all of you. "I am Father Grimburrow thank you for this service to Petros, if you would please lay him in the grave we can begin." You set the coffin in carefully and step away from the grave and as you all begin to blend with the crowd Father Grimburrow begins his sermon. He talks of Petros's career, his dedication to his daughter, the passing of his wife, and his arrival and affect on Ravengro. "At this time I would ask any friends who are willing to speak a few words about Petros Lorrimor."
Without much hesitation, Stefan steps forward. "Thank-you, Father Grimburrow."
Turning to address the mourners, he opens hs mouth as if to speak, pauses, looks back at the grave, and sighs deeply.
He turns again toward the congregation. "My name is Stefan Von Herzog. I am an old friend and colleague of Petros from Lepidstadt. I've been thinking about Petros Lorrimor and the time we spent together very much since I'd learned of his passing. I have a couple of stories I'd like to share. I first met Professor Lorrimor at the ripe old age of 20, as a second-year undergraduate student at the University of Lepidstadt when I walked into his class on Applied Thaumaturgy. I must admit that my initial impression was that I didn't like him very much. He had a reputation as an excellent instructor, but I wasn't prepared for his style of teaching. The good professor did not tolerate anything but the best from his students-- the assignments were always taxing, the readings voluminous, and the practical exams next to impossible to perform perfectly. He seemed merciless in the way he demanded perfection from his students, yet he had a way of pushing us to demand perfection from ourselves. Students who couldn't hack his demanding teaching style dropped the course, yet those who stayed managed to earn his respect. Once you had that, he became a very different teacher: someone who encouraged, challenged, and tried his best to make you the best you could be. I found myself honored to be among the few he chose to mentor through the rest of my days at the Universtiy.
"And, while he could be so intimidating to students who hadn't yet proven themselves to his level of satisfaction, his kindness and generosity were also legendary." Stefan paused to wipe his eye. "I lost a dear friend while at University, in a lab practical that went very, very, wrong." He paused again, clearing his throat. "Petros was there for me-- he was the one who came to our rescue. We couldn't save Andrei, but he did save me." Stefan looked into the assembled mourners again, gathering his words. "He gathered experts to make sure that the evil of that day was put to rest. And he invited me along, a third-year student of medicine, someone who would likely get in the way. Yet he realized that I needed to be there too...." His voice cracks. "...to end the evil that had taken Andrei from me." He sobs once, then wipes his eyes with a white handkerchief. "And afterward, he was there for me when I needed a fatherly friend."
Seemingly composed again, he smiles. "Sorry, this doctor doesn't usually get so emotional. That's the kind of man Petros was. When you get right down to it, he was a great man: a scholar not afraid of the darkness of the world, a man not afraid to get his hands dirty in rooting out evil, and a good friend. The world has suffered a loss in his passing. May the words and deeds of his friends and loved ones live up to his memory. Thank-you."
A'isha steps up next to Father Grimburrow. "I would say a few words." Upon receiving approval, she turns to the people gathered.
"The Professor was kind to me when I had lost everything. My parents had been killed and I was training to be a paladin when he came along to ask about my experience. It was painful, but needed. It allowed me to face my fears, my insecurities, and myself. I am all the stronger for his wisdom, his knowledge, and his friendship. May he be as satisfied on the other side as he was great in life."
Tears stream down her face as she speaks, but her voice remains calm. Once done she resume standing next to the coffin to be ready to lower it in when it is time.
Arrila looks around at the other pallbearers in the crowd and around the grave knowing that they lost someone just as precious to them as he was to her.
“I would like to say a few words.” She walks to the grave and begins. “My name is Arrila Taurandir. I first met the professor at the Sincomakti School of Sciences. He was giving a lecture and I had heard from friends that he was one of the best speakers you could ever here and that I must go listen to him. So I found out that he was to be lecturing at the school and I had always wanted to visit the Ustalav wildlands anyways, so I journeyed there.”
Arrila smiled as she thought of the next part of her eulogy. “Now I don’t remember the topic, but I do remember being completed enthralled by the stature of this man at the front of the room. So well versed on a multitude of topics and conveying that information in a way that commanded attention. I knew that I wanted this man to become an acquaintance at least, and hoped perhaps a friend.”
“I approached him after the lecture and he fielded the many questions that I had and I answered the few of his. He was kind enough to continue corresponding with me throughout the years exchanging knowledge that we found on our travels. We met whenever we happened to be in the same location, and went on a couple hunts. It was through all of this that I was lucky enough to earn his friendship, and he mine.”
Arrila let a single tear roll down her face. “So I would like to say that Professor Lorrimor was a great man and an even greater friend, and he will be missed by the many friends that he made in his life”
Edekar wished he knew A'isha so that he had an excuse to take her in his arms and give her solace. She seemed to be hurting and the sight of it pained him. He averted his gaze to the right to look at no point in particular while his thoughts went through what he was going to say. When it was his turn, Edekar rummaged inside his jacket until he found the piece of paper he needed. He stepped up, scraped his throat to get everyone's attention and then started his eulogy - or was it an elegy?
The man's features betrayed his Andoran roots - the complexion of his skin, the shape of his nose and face, all of it was different when compared to the looks of the Ustalav. His brow furrowed when he began.
"I've known Lorrimor for a couple of years now. I saw these years as a blessing, not realizing that our time as friends in this world could soon very well be over. The curse of mortality haunts us, always, and in this light I'd dedicate one of my writings to Lorrimor. The words came to me while I reminisced on one of our many talks of the Great Beyond. I think our beloved professor would like it."
He uncrumpled the paper and took a deep breath, licking his lips before taking the jump. The man looked at the coffin and then back at the piece of paper. Sharing a poem right now felt so intimate that the idea of criticism gave him stage-fright. Man up, Edekar! Okay, good. "Like vanishing dew, a passing apparition, or the sudden flash of lightning - already gone - thus should one regard one's self."
With that being said, he put away the piece of paper and stepped back to his position next to the coffin.
In the solemn silence that follows Edekar's poem, Rhia looks to the side, her head tilted as if listening to something. ”Yes I was going to.” she whispers to the air before moving to stand next to the priest.
”My name is Rhia Van der Geist. It was studying my family’s place in the nation’s history, and the continued impact of our presence in Ustalav that brought the professor and I to first work together. At that time, he was a brilliant expert on everything supernatural, and to a young girl unsure of her destiny, an excellent outside view of what her family’s presence meant to people who did not even know of their existence.” she sighs deeply, working to maintain her composure, and it seems almost as if the sounds of sighing and sniffling multiply throughout the cemetery.
”The professor was an amazing man who understood the land we live in in ways no one else did, and above all simply wanted to make the world safe for everybody.”
She makes no effort to conceal the tears that stream down her face as she steps aside quietly.
Alek looked about as the last of the pallbearers ended her speech You'll be missed professor His eyes shifted to the coffin, before going back to A'isha; the sight of her tears had brought back memories of his childhood, he feared these memories because he knew that they would loosen the chains that he kept on his guilt, and the last thing he needed was for it to stampede through his mind and soul. Alek didn't bother to avert his gaze from the woman for many a moment, despite how he knew that it could lead to misunderstandings and awkwardness, it was like a wraith from his past had taken over his body and forbade from even tilting his head in another direction. Finally a muffled sigh escaped his lips as he tipped his hat downwards, another memory came to him, a memory of the last time he had seen his best friend, his gaze hovered over the graveyard , as visions of the past came alive in his mind Better this then stare awkwardly at someone who could be a complete stranger She had said that her parents were killed, it was either him letting his paranoia beguile him because of two coincidences or it was really her Whichever it is, I'd better leave after we are done here
Stefan wipes away another tear from his eye at the others' moving words.
All were a moved by a few of your speeches and memories of Professor Lorrimor, Father Grimburrow gives a moment of silence and then steps forward again. "Phrasma teaches that all death has meaning and that while we should mourn those who go to her we should celebrate their life and the life they brought to the world." He leans over and draws a spiral onto the professor's coffin with a piece of chalk. "May the Lady of The Graves judge you fairly for the good you have done in this life and the evil you may have prevented."
As the others begin to depart and the gravediggers begin their task Kendra calls for each of you to stay with her for a moment, when all of you have gathered she speaks.
"I must thank for what you have done today and what you have said, it is a wonderful thing to hear my father having such an impact on so many. There are other matters that I must have you attend to as well though this one is not as daunting as what you have already done, you six have been gathered here for you are to be mentioned in my fahters will. We can depart when you are ready, it will be read at my fath- my manor."
The walk to the manor is a solemn and quiet one, Kendra keeps to herself though she does walk as though a great weight had finally been lifted off of her. When you reach the Lorrimor manor you see that it is a well kept home but modest with no flair or gaudy embelishments, as Kendra opens the door you know that is most definetly the home of the professor. There are only few bare walls in the rooms you can see from the foyer most are covered in bookshelves that look like they are about to topple from the ungodly amount of books they hold.
"Councilman Vashian should be here in a short while my I offer you anything to drink? wine, brandy, I think we have a keg of beer somewhere" she goes on as she wanders into the kitchen.
"Some brandy would be amazing. Ustalav is rainier than expected and I have troubles shaking the chill out of my bones. Oh, Andoran .. never again will I complain about the warm summers we have."
"Some brandy would be wonderful. Your hospitality is most appreciated. I would have been glad for brandy back when I was in Katheer. It is something we got very little of in Qadira, even with father having the ear of several influential merchants."
A'isha settles down into one of the comfy looking chairs and waits for her hostess to bring the beverages.
"Thank you for inviting us into your home, a glass of a red wine would be wonderful to shake the dreariness of the day."
Arrila began walking around the room looking at the bookshelves that lined the wall, knowing that the professor had one of the best collections of books in Ustalav.
"Miss Lorimor, thank you so much for your hospitality. I must say that your home certainly reminds me of your father's office and of his apartment in Lepidstadt! And yes, a brandy would do wonders for me, thank-you."
"Brandy would be a delight Kendra but please....don't go to any trouble on our account. If you need help with anything let me know." Rhia says earnestly as she takes a seat.
Standing against one of the bare walls, Alek looks around, he was impressed by the massive collection of books, and as he skimmed through their titles he remembered discussing with the professor some their subjects as they exchanged letters. With slow steps he approached one of the shelves and looked at the titles more closely.
"None for me" He replied, Alek found the semi recovery of Kendra intriguing and just a bit suspicious.
You hear the clinking of glasses and goblets come from the kitchen followed shortly by Kendra walking in with a silver serving tray holding five brandy glasses and goblet. One of the glasses seems exceptionaly full and is grabbed up by Kendra after setting it on the table, she sits in a chair in the study and takes a drink of her brandy before talking. "Just so you know I have no idea what his will holds for you, but each of you must have been great friends because we had to hold reading this until you had all arrived it was just good fortune that you made it to the funeral as well."
@Alek you see several titles you remember and a lot of titles by someone with the initials of G.L. which include Break with a Banshee, Gadding with Ghouls, Holidays with Hags, Voyages with Vampires, and Wanderings with Werewolves. Kendra's mood seems to still be solemn but wha lightness you saw was from the burial finally happening and without too much disturbance.
Edekar' facial expression spasms when Kendra tells them how important this moment is. What have I gotten myself into?! The man's muscles are taut as he looks for a place to sit down, not sure if he can handle what is to come.
Rhia appears to not even notice as the brandy glass floats over to her hand. After taking a sip she looks up, noticing the other's stares. "Um..sorry"
Suspicion...it was something that Alek constantly had to deal with, especially after he left the local guards. He couldn't help at times but think that most people did things because of some ulterior motive or another. Yes, Kendra appeared to be the perfect host, but what better position would she have to be rid of anyone mentioned in the will of her father? Although there is nothing that really gave any basis for this line of thinking, Alek couldn't push the thought away entirely.
Rhia appears to not even notice as the brandy glass floats over to her hand. After taking a sip she looks up, noticing the other's stares. "Um..sorry"
Alek stared at the unusual event occuring around the woman with chilling aura with a critical eye "Neat trick" He spoke in a neutral tone, his face mostly hidden behind the shadow his hat provided.
"What...oh, it's...not a trick...not really." Rhia says quietly, careful not to put the glass down once she is holding it.
Dr. Von Herzog notices with interest Ms. Van der Geist's floating brandy glass.
Hmm. I didn't notice her casting mage hand..."
Taking the offered glass, Stefan raises it and says, "To the late Petros Lorrimor. May he live on in our hearts and memories."
He takes a sip, then finds a chair.
"Miss Lorrimor, I hesitate to ask, but what happened to your father? I hadn't heard that he was ill. When last I saw him a few months ago, he seemed in excellent health and spirit."
"No it was not a disease that took my father, he was found at Harrowstone, the abandoned prison, where a gargoyle had finally given way and crushed his head. I had warned him about the prison and that it would fall apart on him." Kendra said before taking another drink.
"I'm sorry to hear that. I will remember him for as long as I am able." A'isha says solemnly.
Edekar reclines and digs through the archives of his memory. Harrowstone, Harrowstone.. Had the professor ever written him about that prison?
A cloud of silence engulfed Alek, and his posture seemed like that of a petrified tree; unmoving save for the fingers that pinched the front edge of his hat. His hazel eyes drew a straight line to their host, one he did not bother hiding.
A crumbling statue, convenient Alek couldn't bulk his suspicions any longer, while Kendra appeared to not hold any sort of maliciousness, the story seemed too simple, too normal Or I could be just giving into my cynicism way too easily Alek broke away from the chains of motionlessness by turning his body fully towards Kendra But children and parents don't always get along...I know that all too well He unhanded his hat, his hand falling by his side.
"Seems like a dangerous place, maybe I should inspect it after we are done here" Said Alek, stuffing both of his hands in his coat pockets.
Harrowstone is a ruined prison partially destroyed by a fire in 4661 (it is 4713 now), the building has stood vacant ever since. The locals suspect that it's haunted, and don't enjoy speaking of the place.
Harrowstone was built in 4594. Ravengro was founded at the same time as a place where guards and their families could live and that would produce food and other supplies used by the prison. The fire that killed all of the prisoners and most of the guards destroyed a large portion of the prison's underground eastern wing, but left most of the stone structure above relatively intact. The prison's warden perished in the fire, along with his wife although no one knows why she was in the prison when the fire occured. A statue commemorating the warden and the guards who lost their lives was built in the months after the tradgedy, that statue still stands on the riverbank just outside of town.
Most of the hardened criminals sent to Harrowstone spent only a few months imprisoned, for it was here that most of Ustalav's executions were carried out. The fire that caused the tragedy was, in fact, a blessing in disguise, for the prisoners had rioted and gained control of the prison's dungeons immediately prior to the conflagration. It was only through the self-sacrifice of Warden Hawkran and 23 of his guards that the prisoners were prevented from escaping, the guards gave their lives to save the town of Ravengro.
At the time Harrowston burned, five particulary notorious criminals had recently arrived at the prison. While the commonly held belief is that the tragic fire began accidentally after the riot began, in fact the prisoners had already seized control of the dungeon and had been in command of the lower level for several hours before the fire. Warden Hawkran triggered a deadfall to seal the rioting prisoners in the lower level, but in so doing trapped himself and nearly two dozen guards. The prisoners were in the process of escaping when the panicked guards accidentally started the fire in a desperate attempt to end the riot.
@Alek You can tell that Kendra is telling you what she knows to be the truth, and has general dislike for the prison.
Arrila moved towards the group in order to join the conversation. Taking a drink of her wine.
"What reason did your father have to be at Harrowstone?"
"Usually rumors of something being haunted is enough to attract his attention, this was nothing unusual considering the fire happened a little over 50 years ago." Kendra replied.