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The sound of the spring rain falling on cobbled streets is almost music to your ears after four hot, dusty weeks in Osirion. It washes away the dust and sand and memories of oprressive, unesccapable heat. The plan was to come back to this city with Professor Lorrimer, which you have done, and for him to submit his findings and introduce you to the sponsors of the expedition, which he has not done. Instead, with many apologies, he has told you that something has come to his attention back home (he does not say what) and that he needs to leave. He ensures that you have money to find lodgings, and gives you both a quick embrace, before looking each of you in the eye.
“Goodbye, for now. Stay out of trouble, both of you. I will see you both in a few months, once I have a handle on this other matter. Until then, fare you both well!”
And that sight, of Professor Lorrimer hurrying through the bustle until he was swallowed up by the crowd and by the pouring drizzle, was the last time you saw him alive.
CATHY
Rap-rap-rap-rap. It’s not a gentle sort of tapping at your bedroom door. The staff at the Duke Hotel (the most expensive in Magnimar) make it a point to know their guests, and the porter or maid or whoever on the other side of the door clearly knows what’s required to wake you from your drunken sleep. Being awake hurts. Maybe you were counting on a few more hours slep before having to face the consequences of last night (or maybe it still is last night? It’s far too early to be woken up). You’re in no state to answer the door, even if you were dressed in something more than your pharasmin amulet. Breathing, being alive, and wishing you weren’t are about all you can manage right now. A quick glance ow-ow-ow-ow-ow shows that you are at least alone in the room, your clothes from last night (most of them at least) strewn across the floor.
Memories resurface: drinks in the hotel bar, flirting with strangers, some sort of card game, drinks, food, free food, expensive food, more drinks, gambling, winning, losing, flirting, drinking, flirting and then bed. Whoever they were, they’ve made themselves scarce.
Rap-rap-rap-rap. The staff at the Duke hotel are discrete but they know their jobs. If their job is to wake you up then they will do it. “Ma’am?” A man’s voice. “I have a letter for you, arrived urgently.” The staff at the Duke hotel are good at their jobs, and one of their jobs is to know their guests. The man’s voice allows a tactful pause. “I’ll put it under the door. You have a good day, ma’am.” A crisp parchment envelope – expensive – with a wax seal slides into your room.
The voice leaves, and you are left with your pain and your jumbled memories and the letter.
ALEXI
Rap-rap-rap-rap. However early you normall wake, the call comes earlier. Much earlier. It is still dark so even though it’s now October that means it’s what, before 6 a.m.? At least you didn’t have that much to drink last night – you spent most of the evening nursing a quiet drink or two in the corner of the hotel bar (trust Cathy to insist on the most expensive hotel in the city) keeping a watchful eye on your younger sister until it became clear she was going to do what she was going to do. One advantage of the better hotels is that there’s a limit, more or less, of how much danger she can put herself in. You retired to your room with some reading and slept the sleep of the just.
Rap-rap-rap-rap. At least, until now. “Sir?” The staff at the Duke hotel are good at their jobs, and one of their jobs is to know their guests. If a guest wants to be addressed as Mr, then they will be addressed as Mr. Money is the great equaliser, in that regard. As long as you have it, of course.
The voice continues. “Sir, I have a leter for you, arrived urgently.”
Alexi blinks as the knock awakens him from his slumber. He usually wakes with this sun to perform his daily prayers to Iomedae, so he is a bit bleary eyed as he gets his bearings. His lambent yellow eyes take in the darkened room in blacks and grays, seeing everything in crisp detail depsite the gloom.
Alexi rolls out of bed and reaches for a robe to cover his body as he walks to the door, careful that his clawed feet don’t leave furrows in the carpet. He brushes back locks of long white hair from his face before cracking the door and peering out. ”Thank you. I’ll have the letter,” he says in a throaty, feminine voice, holding out his hand.
Cathy makes a faint noise - something between a grunt and a moan - to let whoever is on the other side of the door know that she has heard them. She lies still for some moments, hoping that sleep will claim her again; but no, she's awake and this is not a hangover she'll be able to sleep off.
She swings one foot to the floor. Several minutes pass before she puts the other foot down beside it and sits herself up on the bed. She looks at the discarded clothes as she tries to piece her memories of last night. If not all her clothes are here, that means she took them off somewhere else (which is her usual practice: going to their room makes leaving much easier than having to kick someone out of her room). She grimaces. Even if she could remember which room it was, returning is almost always a bad idea. And asking for stuff back - especially clothes - has always struck her as tacky.
Actually, maybe trying to remember too much of the night isn't such a good idea. That way she won't have to lie to Alexi. If her head weren't hurting so much, she'd shake it in bafflement. How can someone who can't cube root 27, much less cube it, be that good at telling when someone's lying? What has he learned that I haven't? Putting that thought to one side, she shifts her gaze from the clothes to the envelope-
Oh, no. Sitting up was a rookie mistake.
Expensive rooms in good hotels have their own privy, which means she gets there in time, just. One hand clutches at her pharasmin symbol while the other tries to hold as much of her long, black hair out the way as she can. Between bouts of retching (smoked salmon. And that fizzy wine they drink here, sweeter than she likes but hey, she wasn't paying for it) she thinks about what the letter might say.
Three. And its cube is nineteen thousand, six hundred eighty-three
If she wasn't busy puking (cheese pastries. And that dark beer they brew in Kaer Maga) she'd be grinning like the cat that got the cream (oh, there it is. And that was what, strawberries, raspberries?). Every archdevil has teleported into her skull to stab their pitchforks into her brain, and she's still got it.
Anyway, the letter. Her parents' estate has come through and she and Alexi are both millionares - nope, that one gets less and less likely with every passing year. (She's never seen the point of oysters. They taste like snot going down, and coming back up again. Still, if that's the worst thing she tasted then-) Her parents are still alive and - nope, she gave up on that one before she was even eight. (Ugh. Dwarf liquor, you'll never be sicker.) The Pathfinder Society? Dear Miss Alaro, we find ourselves in need of your special talents... Ooh, that sounds lucrative.
She waits until she's absolutely sure there's nothing else to come up before very, very carefully moving from a crouch into a standing position. First thing, clean up and dispel the hangover. Second thing, get dressed. Third thing, read the letter. Three things is enough. Yeah. Three is good. She can do three.
One hour later, after a scalding hot bath and several glasses of cold water, Cathy sits back on the bed - fully clothed this time - brushing her hair. (It takes a LOT longer than an hour for her hair to dry by itself, but mastery of the arcane comes with advantages.) She takes a deep breath, and carefully moves her head from side to side. OK. She's good. Good enough, anyway. Time to see what the future holds.
She points at the envelope and wills it into her hand.
ALEXI
Your lambent yellow eyes stare through the crack in the door, and are met by milky-white, snakelike eyes staring back at you. The bell-hop's horns are polished to an ivory sheen, and where his skin isn't covered by a dapper black uniform, it shows leathery and red. He looks you up and down, before handing you the letter with a smile that reveals needlelike teeth. "You have a good day, now, Sir."
A polite bow, and his is on his way, discretly and quietly.
The envelope is crisp white parchment, sealed with wax that bears the sigil of a bird (crow or raven, probably) perchign on a stirrup. You've seen it before, but it's not until you crack open the letter and read who it's from that you remember it's the Lorrimer family crest.
From the Estate of Professor Petros Lorrimer, to Alexi Alaro, Sword-Knight of Iomedae, 2 OCTOBER 4711
To Whom It May Concern
I write to tell you of the much-lamented death of my father, Professor Petros Lorrimer. Shortly before his untimely loss, he attached a codicil to his will requesting that you be invited to his funeral and also that you attend the reading of the will. It seems that he has left you something of his.
The funeral will be later this month, 14 October 4711 in his hometwon of Ravengro and the reading will take place in his house one day later.
Regards
Kendra Lorrimer, Executor
CATHY
Your fingers tingle slightly as they close around the envelope, and you recognise a minor enchantment that makes the letter more liekly to find the reader, and tells the sender when it has been opened. (Sadly unlike more advanced magic, there's no way to telepathically send a message back). The stamp on the wax seal is immediately familiar to you, one you've seen many times before: a raven perched on a stirrup, the Lorrimer family crest.
2 OCTOBER 4711
My dear Cathyriel
It has been quite some time since I last saw you, although I heard enough from my father to know that the precocious teenage girl who stayed with us has developed into a young woman of considerable intellect and personality. My father was never exactly lavish in his praise, but I know that he was extremely proud of you.
I am truly, truly, sorry to be writing about him in the past tense, but I have to tell you that he has died. I know that he was a hugley significant part of your life, and I know that the grief I am feeling is something you will also share. It hope that you will be able to attend the funeral, which will be on 14 October in our hometown of Ravengro. Perhaps we can console each other.
There is one final thing: shortly before his death, it appears my father altered his will. There is a codicil which requests your presence (and your brother's) both for the funeral and for the reading of the will, which will take place in his home on 15 October.
I have no idea where you are or when this letter will reach you, but please, if it is at all possible, please be here.
With love and sorrow
Kendra L
PS Please tell your brother that if he cannot attend then I understand. I am sure that his service to Iomedae prevents him doing many things.
Alexi frowns at the letter. The news of Professor Lorrimor’s passing saddens him, but he knows his sister was much closer to the man. She will likely be taking the news hard. But it is the name at the end of the letter that gives him pause. Kendra.
His breath catches in his throat. How long has it been since he last saw her? Three years? Four? The terms they had parted on were less than ideal. He hadn’t even said goodbye. Alexi has faced the the demonic hordes of the Worldwound, but that hadn't filled him with as much dread as the thought of seeing Kendra again.
But he pushed those feelings down for now. He had to be there for Cathy now. He pulled on his breeches and a jacket, then made his way down the hall to his sister’s room. He knocked gently on the door. ”Cathy? It’s me. Can I come in?”
Cathy jolts back as the letter tingles in her hand, and she's halfway through a spell of warding before she recognises the enchantment as nonthreatening. She gives a wry smile as she studies the seal - so much for the Pathfinder Society - but it'll be good to know what Petros wants them to do next. So much for "see you in a few months" - it's been closer to six, Professor!
Her brow furrows slightly as she spots the unfamiliar handwriting, but she smiles as she realises it's Kendra. Aw, that's nice of her, reaching out to-
The next paragraph knocks the breath out of her lungs, like a physical blow. She's compelled to keep reading to the end, before the letter drops from her fingers and she falls forward from the edge of the bed, on all fours, staring at the floor as she tries to remember how to breathe. It's something she does all the time, without even thinking about it, so why is it such a difficult thing to do right now? What's the trick? She stares numbly down at the carpet, absently noting and categorising the repeat geometrical patterns, while the world seems to float away and spin around her...
Eventually her body takes over and she hears a whooping noise as she's compelled to suck air back into her lungs. This seems to trigger something within her, a release of tension, and she bursts into hiccuping sobs.
She hears, as if from a great distance, the knock at her door, her brother's voice, and she shakes her head frantically although of course there's no chance of him seeing that. "I can't - I can't - I - I - I can't!!! I don't know, I don't know, oh please I don't know, oh please, oh pleeeeease...."
”Cathy? CATHY!” Alexi shouts, hearing his sister’s distress. He tries the knob, and if it is locked, he will bash his shoulder against the door until it opens. He rushes into the room, quickly seeing Cathy sobbing and rocking on the floor. He kneels by her side and wraps strong arms around her.
”I’m here, Cathy. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m here.” he says soothingly, holding her close, resting his chin on her shoulder.
Cathy didn't lock her door when she stumbled back in last night (something Alexi would probably give her hell for if he found out under normal circumstances) so it opens easily. Cathy folds herself up in his arms, nestling herself as closely up against her brother as she can while she sobs and sobs and sobs.
Gradually, she stops. She doesn't relax her grip round her brother, but the gulping noises ease back and her breathing returns more to normal. Underneath, Cathy is resilient. She survived the loss of her parents, she survived when Alexi fled to the Worldwound, and she'll survive this. She sniffles, and wipes her nose absently on Alexi's sleeve. She stays snuggled against him, her voice muffled. "We have to go to the funeral. Poor Kendra. We should be there for her." Her brain is already calculating distances, possible ways of transport, how to get from Magnimar to Ustalav.
A horrible thought strikes her, and she tightens her grip around him. "We're going in a coach though, aren't we? You're not going to make me ride a horse from here to Ustalav in October weather. You wouldn't."
Alexi kisses the back of Cathy's head, smirking slightly. There's the sister he knows and loves. "Actually, I thought we would head down to the docks as soon as possible to try to book passage on a ship. It may be the only way to make it to Ravengro in time for the funeral. Pack your bags, little sister, and let us leave this place."
He frowns down at the smear of mucus on his jacket sleeve but does not comment on it.
As Alexi holds his sister, he can't help but spy the letter lying open on the bed. The last few lines elicit a grimace and a pang of guilt in his heart. Poor Kendra, indeed. The reunion would be an... interesting one, to be sure.
Cathy blinks, and mentally kicks herself. A ship. Of course. Why didn't I think of that?
She nods at Alexi's instructions, although she's planning to get one of the staff to pack for her. It's what they're paid for, right? She's interrupted in her thoughts by a growl from her stomach, reminding her that it is currently empty.
"Uh, can we get breakfast first? I'm pretty hungry after spending last night, you know... fasting and contemplating my soul. It was kind of peaceful, really. I don't remember much of it."
She has the decency not to look him in the eye and lie to him.
"Right. My sister, the pious," Alexi says dubiously, glancing around the disheveled room. "Yes, let us eat. And when I say my daily prayers, I shall add an extra one in for your soul. Just for good measure, as I'm sure your own prayers were sufficient, of course."
Seeing Alexi look around, Cathy opens her mouth to protest that just because her clothes from last night are scattered across the floor it doesn't mean anything, before remembering that her underwear is missing. Damn. When in a hole, stop digging.
Instead, she pokes her tongue out at him, before standing up.
"Sounds like you're going to be busy praying, brother dearest. Don't take too long over it or I might eat your breakfast as well."
"Of course, sister. But if you insist on continuing to overindulge in food and drink, you're going to need to invest in some looser robes to make room for your expanding gut," Alexi counters, poking Cathy's belly with a finger. "I'll see you downstairs."
Cathyriel squeaks with outrage, temporarily reduced to wordlessness by the jibe. She puts a hand to her waist, pulling at her garments and trying to tell whether they're any tighter than usual. I'm not, am I? ... Am I? No, he was just teasing, he wouldn't say that if I was actually ... would he? And sure, I ate a lot last night but we'd been on the road for ages, it was the first time I'd had a proper meal in over a week...
Suddenly she doesn't have the appetite she did a few moments ago.
By the time you have finished breakfast and return to your rooms to pack, Cathy's wayward clothing is on her bed, cleaned and folded (the staff at the Duke hotel are good at their jobs). Afterwards, you pack, or get someone to do it for you, and step out of the hotel into the miserable weather. Regardless of the season, the docks are always busy and you easily find a berth on a ship headed towards your destination.
Unfortunately, sea travel in October means gales and stroms, and this voyage is no exeption. The plus side is that you make good time as the sails are constantly billowing. The downside is the seasickness. Alexi holds up reasonably well, but Cathy has a fairly miserable time of it and finds it hard to get any sleep at all.
After your ship arrived in Caliphas harbour, you boarded a coach heading up towards Lepistadt. The driver agreed, after a slight increase in fare, to make a stop for you at Ravengro. Although what he actually meant was:
"Ravengro! Ravengro next stop!" The coachman stamps on the roof of the coach, shaking you out of your half-daze. It's been a 12-hour journey, with one brief rest stop to change horses. The coach slows and comes to a stop juuust long enough for you get out, before continuing its way up the main turnpike. Its lamps are soon lost in the distance, swallowed up by the darkness (it's after 5 p.m.) and the driving rain. In fairness he has stopped at the right place. A dirt track leads off this main road, a white signboard with black paint points the way: Ravengro 3 miles.
The rain here is different from in Magnimar. For one thing, it comes in almost sideways, into your face almost whichever way you turn.
ALEXI
VP 10/10
WP 34 (WT 17)
Insanity 0 (Wis 14)
Conditions
Other Smite Evil 1/1
CATHY
VP 6/6
WP 20 (WT 10)
Insanity 0 (Wis 14)
Conditions Fatgued
Other Arcane Pool 3/4
Alexi cares for his sister as best he can during the journey. Despite their frequent bouts of teasing, he loves Cathy more than anything, and her discomfort is his discomfort, too. He tries to get her to keep down some water and hardtack as she weathers her seasickness.
Once the carriage drive kicks them out, he pulls up his cloak over his head in a futile attempt to ward off the rain. At least his horns provide a catch so that the whipping wind doesn't blow it the hood back. He puts an arm around Cathy and holds her close. "Let us make haste! The Inheritor guide our steps in this treacherous weather!"
Oh yeah. THAT'S why I didn't think of a ship
Cathy's grateful for Alexi's attention and care on the ship, and tries to show her gratitude by not spewing over him too much. By the time they are on dry(?) land again, she has lost whatever weight she may or may not have gained during her stay at the hotel, and then some.
When she sees the sign showing how far they still have to go, her first thought is to curl up on the ground and cry. But she doesn't. This is NOTHING. Look at your brother: he's faced horrors you don't even want to think about. You think this is hard? If Petros was this wet and cold and miserable, he'd be grateful - it would mean he's still alive. Don't snivel, don't whine. Walk.
Cathyriel narrows her eyes, bites her lip and stands tall (stands straight, anyway - tall is beyond her without the aid of magic). She may be soaked to the skin and weary to her bones, but she walks the whole three miles without a single word of complaint.
+++RAVENGRO+++
Ravengro hasn't changed much, if at all, since the last time you were here. A small village of maybe 300 people or so, it clusters around a town square (a grand name for what is basically a gazebo on a spare bit of grassland) which is located on a bend in the river. It isn't especially late in the day, but the dark and the foul weather mean that you are almost the only people out and about in the square, although you hear the noise of laugher and conversation from the local taverns.
Almost. Under the gazebo, carrying a lantern, a lone woman paces. The light from her lantern means that you see her before she sees you. It's Kendra.
Alexi stiffens when he sees the woman. His legs temporarily seize up, and he wonders if it's not too late to flee--that is, stage a tactical retreat. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to keep walking, stopping just outside the gazebo.
"Miss Lorrimor," he says stiffly, executing a formal bow.
Even as shattered as she is, Cathy's eyes light up at the sight. "Kendra? Is that Kendra? It is!!!!" She's too tired to run, but she staggers forward at speed and throws herself into the woman's arms. "Oh Kendra, it's so good to see you, I'm so sorry..."
However you remember Kendra, she is now a young woman (almost exactly the same age as Alexi). Taller than both of you, she holds herself with a quiet dignity, although her recent grief is marked in her face. Her eyes widen momentarily in surprise as she sees Alexi, and for a moment it looks as though she might say something, before her mouth sets in a firm line and she takes refuge in a calm reserve.
Cathy's arrival on the scene breaks the moment before it can become too awkward. Kendra gives a slightly pained smile as the shorter woman's arms wrap around her with an audible squelch. "Hello again, Cathyriel. I see you have collected some water on the way here, how good of you to share it with me." The ghost of a smile flits across her face, making it clear she's teasing Cathy. She looks the raven-haired wizard up and down for a moment, assessing her, before giving another fleeting smile. "I would say that you've grown, but-" she holds up thumb and forefinger, spaced minutely apart. "Perhaps that much."
She's still addressing her remarks entirely to Cathy. "Now, let's get you inside. I have an umbrella that you're welcome to share, it should cover both of us if you stay in close to me." She gestures with one arm. "Shall we? I see your brother has a hood, so he should be fine to follow behind us."
Cathy gives a tired grin as Kendra teases her about her height. "Yes, it's true, I stopped growing - in every direction - a while back." She rolls her eyes. "I wouldn't have minded being a bit, you know, bigger." She cups her hands to show what she means. "But I didn't get a say." She peers at Kendra, in the light of the lantern. "You look really good, though. So tall. And distinguished."
As her new best friend produces an umbrella, Cathy steps gladly away with her, chattering so much she doesn't actually notice Alexi has been effectively excluded from the conversation. Her tiredness makes her more talkative, but not necessarily more coherent. "I hadn't realised how far away from everything you are here, it doesn't seem very convenient now that I think about it, but maybe that's part of the charm? It took us over a week to get here, I had to go on a ship, Alexi suggested it, which was a really good idea, I think, but the weather was really rough and I got terribly seasick and I couldn't hold anything down and then we found a coach when we arrived in the port and they said they'd take us to Ravengro, which cost extra but I don't understand because it's the same route even if they don't stop for us, and you'd think I understand that because I understand most things except how Alexi can tell I'm lying when he doesn't even know what a cube root is, and then they didn't even take us to Ravengro, they just put us out on the side of the road and we had to walk and it was miles and miles and miles and I got rained on, and I realised I don't have any magic to keep from getting wet, and you'd think they would have come up with a spell for that but I don't know it, and now I'm here and you're here and I haven't even asked you how you are!"
She stops dead, mortified as she realises she's been talking about herself. "Sorry. You must be - I mean, if you want to talk, I can listen for a bit."
Alexi sighs softly. It’s about as warm a greeting from Kendra as he would have expected. Pulling his cloak more tightly around her, the paladin follows the two women at a safe distance, the rain clanging softly against his metal vambraces and greaves.
Kendra gives another suggestion of a smile as Cathy's chatter washes over her. "Oh, I've had rather too much time lately to listen to mysefl. It's nice to have someone else to listen to. I mean, there's Yuriel of course, but he doesn't say much."
Kendra leads you away from the square, down a narrow street that looks like any of the others in this small village. "I wasn't sure you'd remember the way to the house, so I thought I'd meet you at the square. Here we are." She arrives at the familiar front door, with the brass hinges and the large iron doorknocker in the familiar shape of a raven (its beak long since sheared away) perching on a stirrup. The house is set back from the street, as though to let it look at visitors as they approach, to judge who is worthy and who is not. Over the years, the Professor has added a series of extensions to it so in the dark it squats on the ground, in a vaguely organic shape. Kendra produces the key and unlocks the door, letting you inside. Like every house in Ustalav, behind the front door is a cloakroom, for holding all the outdoor garments needed to endure this country's weather: rows of brass hooks line the wall, above boot-racks and armour stands.
Kendra reminds you to take your boots off. She gives Cathy a smile. "I have slippers that will fit you, Cathy, and I found the coverings my father made for your brother's feet." She meets Alexi's gaze for the second time that evening. "Sword-knight Alaro. Let me help you out of your armour. It's easier with two." Her gaze conveys little to no emotion.
She meets his gaze for the third time that evening a few minutes later, after she has helped Alexi stow the breastplate securely on one of the stands, when she turns and delivers a swift kick to his now unprotectied groin. This gaze conveys a lot, but mostly a message.
You deserve that and you KNOW it.
Leaving the paladin to his thoughts, she turns back to Cathy. "I'm sure you're hungry after your journey, and the villagers here have been giving me more food than I could eat. So. Tea, or something a little stronger?"
Alexi whimpers as Kendra's foot finds the only masculine part of his body. His eyes water but he maintains a stoic expression, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. But it is clear the paladin is in pain, both physically and emotionally.
He lets Cathy take charge of the conversation as he bounces on his heels in an effort to make the pain pass more quickly.
Cathy is utterly unprepared for Kendra's attack and is caught between a protective response ("nobody does that to my brother except me!") and amusement ("see, it's funny cos you're in pain and I'm not"). She settles for indifference, for now. She's pretty sure Kendra wouldn't do something like that without a reason, although she has no idea what the reason could be.
(wait. Unless... no. That's ridiculous. Isn't it?)
Besides, she's tired. Other people are difficult enough to understand at the best of times. She smiles up at Kendra. "I. am. starving. I haven't managed to keep anything down for days. And I'll drink whatever you're drinking. Lead the way!"
Leaving Alexi to his own problems, she follows Kendra in pursuit of her own appetites. Her stomach growls in anticipation.
The kitchen, like most of the rest of the house, has not noticeably changed from the last time you were here - apart from the fact that you cn no longer expect to see the Professor either lounging in the kitchen with his permanent mug of tea, or scribing in his study. One thing that has changed is that the table is absolutely laden with food, Kendra wasn't kiddiing about the villagers. Dish after dish after dish lies before you, from pies to deep casseroles to flans, quiches, baked goods.
Kenddra gives you a wry smile. "Told you. Dig in. Even magic only preserves food for so long." She checks the time on the great clock that hangs on the wall. "Hm. Well after seven. That means a proper drink. It's nice to have someone to drink with." Raising her voice slightly, she utters a command in Draconic. "Yuriel. Please pour a large sherry for me and for Cathy."
Once the pain subsides slightly, Alexi slips the professor's foot covering on and finds a comfortable spot to sit and recover from the long walk to Ravengro.
Cathy's eyes light up at the sight of all the food, and she fills her plate with as much as it will hold. "Oh, I love sherry, Magnimar was nice but they have this fizzy sweet wine that just isn't so good, you know? I mean I still drank it, someone else was paying, but this is the real thing." She gulps back the sherry, and relishes the opportunity to use her Draconic and ask Yuriel for another one.
She grins as the bottle hovers in the air and pours itself. "Watching that never gets old." She yawns, and then yawns again. "Sorry. Been a long week." She was glad to have Alexi watching over her while she was so sick on the boat.
She gives Kendra a look: she adores her, but Alexi is her brother, her everything. "I don't want to get in between whatever quarrel you both have, but..." She looks at Kendra pleadingly. "He's all I have, and you are too, and it's your father's funeral tomorrow and we all have to travel there together and he'd want us to get on, I know he would."
Your memories flood back as you walk out of the cloakroom and into the main hallway. From the other end of the house where the kitchen is, you hear the chatter of your sister talking to, or possible at, Kendra: you can tell she's at that stage where she sounds shattered but will keep talking till she falls asleep.
The door on your right is open, and you walk in almost before you know it. This is Professor Lorrimer's study, a place where you spent many hours talking with him, as he both questioned you and helped you come to terms with much of your experiences in the Worldwound, helping to put you back together after the horrors you saw. The study is dust-free thanks to Yuriel's constant work, and apart from the fact that the inkpen is crusted with dried ink at least several weeks old, it almost looks as though Professor Lorrimer could walk back in at any moment.
Lost in memories, good and bad, the knock at the door brings you back to the present. It's nto the way Cathy knocs, when she bothers to, so it must be Kendra. "Alexi?" Kendra's voice. "It's Kendra. May I come in, please?"
Kendra gives you a look as you talk about Magnimar, as though she knows what else you did after the free drinks. "You do know that you don't have to accept a drink, just because it's free, don't you," she asks gently.
As you change the subject around to your brother, her expression changes. She is caught between annoyance and an exasperated amusement. "You're giving me the puuppy-dog eyes AND using my own father's death against me?! Cathyriel Alaro, you. are. SHAMELESS." Amusement narrowly wins out.
She sighs. "Your right though. I shouldn't have - done that to him. I will find him and try and make things right. You though, have had enough sherry. You've walked miles in the pouring rain and you have to get up tomorrow for my father's funeral. He would want you there, and well-rested." If you're using her father, then so can she. "Yuriel will take your things to your room, and run you a hot bath, and then you will go to bed. Your room is exactly as you left it, which is to say a mess."
She gives you a mock-scowl. "Now go. Shoo."
She calls out in Draconic, instructing the unseen servant accordingly. "And please take me to Alexi." A bright spark materialises in the air, moving out of the room towards wherever your brother is. Kendra walks after it, but not before checking that you are doing as she has told you.
It's clear that the woman has something on her mind, but before she can speak, the paladin takes his turn. "Kendra, please allow me to express my sincerest apologies for the way I treated you. There is no excuse for my behavior, and I am truly sorry for the pain I caused when I left. You don't have to like me, but I do hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. For Cathy's sake, if nothing else." The tiefling lowers his eyes to the carpet.
Kendra has clearly been preparing something to say, but you jump in before she can say it and she is slightly taken aback. "Oh, that - that's good of you to say, but I was actually coming to apologise to you. I really didn't mean to do that, it just sort of happened. I think the pain of my father's death brought back that old pain that you caused me, and I lashed out at you. Which is stupid. And wrong." She pauses. "I must admit that I wouldn't mind understanding why you left and never wrote, but you do NOT owe me an explanation."
She shakes her head, wearily. "It was years ago, adn we were young. Younger than Cathy is now, which is a terrifying thought, I might add. Of course I forgive you. Please forgive me my more recent hurt to you. Perhaps we could move beyond this now we meet again as grownups?" She extends a hand, and gives you a cautious smile. "Hello. I'm Kendra Lorrimer. My father died recently and I could defnitely use a friend or tow right now."
"You do know that you don't have to accept a drink, just because it's free, don't you," she asks gently.
Cathy shrugs, and gives a grin. "I think maybe we have different ideas about what's fun." She gives another yawn, and nods. "Yup. Shameless, that's me."
She smiles as Kendra orders her about. It's quite nice to have grownups telling you what to do, as long as they don't get too used to it. She wraps Kendra up in a hug as they go their own ways. "Thank you. For... for everything, really. You're a good friend. The best. I love you."
Between the fatigue, the sherry and this familiar place, she feels warm. Safe. She smiles as she follows Yuriel as it carries her bags to her old room. A mess indeed. It just means that everything is out where she can find it. When she reaches the bathroom, she disrobes and sinks with relief into the hot, hot water. Bliss.
The relief in Kendra's eyes tells its own story as you clasp her hand. "I'm so glad. Would you care to come through to the kitchen? The villagers have been making me more food than I can eat, which is their way of showing they care, I think. It's a relief for me to have someone to share it with. And maybe a drink? Cathy hit the sherry quite hard, but there should be some left. I've sent her off to bed, she was yawning so much. Oh, and I'm calling dibs on not bing the one who has to tell her about us, if she asks." Theres a slight pause. "When she asks."
The kitchen is as you remember it from years ago. Kendra pulls two plates out and starts putting food onto it for both of you. She opens a bottle of red wine and pours a glass for you, and then for hereslf. "Cheers. So, tell me what you have been up to in the last few years."
"Oh." Kendra gives almost a small sob at your words, and grabs you in a fierce hug. "My dear, dear girl. But don't you dare make me cry, or I shan't stop." She lets you go. "Alright, I'm going to go and talk to your brother. I shall see you in the morning."
The bath is indeed blissful, and you stay in it for quite some time, long enough for the steam to start condensing on the wall.
Except.
What's condensing on the wall isn't water.
It's blood.
And it's forming words.
"HELLO"
"WHAT'S"
"NAME?"
He follows Kendra into the kitchen and raises his glass to her. "Cheers." He clinks it softly against hers before taking a sip.
"After we parted ways, I ventured north to join the crusades. I pledged myself to the holy cause and trained to become a full-fledged paladin of Iomedae." Alexi looks away from Kendra, a haunted look in his yellow eyes. "I thought I was prepared for the horrors of the Worldwound. I was not. Battling against the demonic hordes pushed me almost to the breaking point. I... I surely would have lost myself had not your father called me back and facilitated my reunion with Cathy."
He turns back to Kendra. "I would be lying to say that I did not miss you, Kendra. I... I thought about reaching out to you then, several months ago. I should have, but I was weak. I could barely face myself. How could I have faced you?"
The paladin pauses to finish his glass of wine, take the bottle, and refill it. "Cathy and I traveled to Absalom, Varisia, and even further afield fulfilling your father's tasks. But now we are here."
Cathyriel's response is utterly rational. At no point does she panic like a frightened child. Yes, she scrambles out of the bath, but obviously that's a reasoned decision to increase her options for later movement (OK, she doesn't then actually move, she stays rooted to the spot, but the principle is still valid).
Yes, she hurriedly calls up a spell of protection, but again - an entirely reasonable response to an unexpected intrusion of the supernatural. (OK, the verbal component of the spell is delivered in a sobbing voice that shakes with fear, but that's just nitpicking).
And of course she calls for help: she is not a skilled combatant at the best of times, and she is currently crippled with fatigue. And of course she uses a tone of voice that is likely to attract that help: not the sound of someone who has stubbed their toe, but a primal, animalistic noise of pure terror. (And it's pure coincidence that she hits that exact tone at her first attempt).
See? Not a sobbing, frightened child. She doesn't have any breath left for sobbing.
+++RAVENGRO+++
ALEXI
Kendra's hand closes over your own as you reproach yourself. "Hey now. I said you do not owe me an explanation, and I meant it. After what you faced, it is a miracle you remain whole in any sense. I am glad my father was able to help you."
She hesitates as you refill the wine glasses, but then holds hers out with a smile. "A friend recently told me that maybe I should rethink my idea of fun. Perhaps it is tiem to try something different."
She smiles at you - and then the moment is shattered by a scream, a primal animalistic noise of pure terror.
Cathy.
(Although she would want it to be pointed out that her choice of that noise is from pure reason)
Kendra goes pale. "The guest annex - her old room - no, I had Yuriel run her a bath." She jumps to her feet.
As the words in bloood appear in splatters on the wall, you feel, just for an instant, a moment, another mind trying make contact with yours. A heavy, hateful mind, but also one that has a profound understanding of the arcane. You feel that instinctively. The other mind is trying to influence your own, but you fight it off in the way a duck repels water, and you can't catch the suggestions beyond their echoes: - blood - writing - OBEY -
When it realises it can't influence you, the mind retreats, but somehow you are able to follow it back to its source: a ghostly mirage of what looks like every cliche of an evil wizard, but at the same time oddly familiar. You see the face widen in shock as he realises you can see him, and with a flick of his angry fingers the image clouds.
And then your protective spell wraps over you, shutting you off. The blood on the walls disappears as if it was never there.
”Cathy!” Alexi shouts. He is already on his feet, racing towards the guest annex with a hand on his sword hilt. Whatever prompted the scream, the paladin is going to ensure that his sister is safe!
ALEXI
The bathroom door is unlocked (Cathy doesn't seem to do locks).
Cathy is no longer in the bath, but is standing in the middle of the room, staring at the opposite wall. Judging from the amount of water puddled at her feet, she has been rooted in that spot for some moments now. Apart from the rivulets of water running down her bare skin, she is wearing nothing but the amulet of Pharasma she almost invariably has round her neck. The hazy shimmer of a protective spell is warded around her.
The patch wall that she's staring at seems unremarkable: like most of the rest of the wall, teh steam from the bath has condensed against it.
You notice that your sister has a series of sigils in a ring around her waist (just above her hips, low enough that she could bare her midriff - if that's her thign - without them showing). You realise that some of the sigils are in the Infernal language, although they aren't forming any words that you can recognise. You don't recognise the languages of the other sigils.
You have an absolute certainty that the sigils are not tattoos. You've seen these sorts of markings before, on the servants of dark powers. They are not made with ink, or if they are it is not an ink that any mortal can make.
CATHY
Alexi barges into the bathroom, heedless of his sister’s state of undress. He looks around, trying to ascertain any danger that might be lurking. His hand never leaves his sword’s hilt.
The paladin peers closely at the wall, but can see nothing there. He turns back to his sister. ”Wht happened? Are you injured?” He inspects her body for injuries. Belatedly, he notices two things: the ring of sigils around Cathy’s waist, and the fact that she is completely naked.
Alexi clears his throat and averts his eyes, but a dozen conflicting thoughts war within his head. Danger first. The rest can come later.
(Cathy has no visible injuries)
She wordlessly reaches for her brother, her eyes not leaving the wall. "Blood, there was blood, so much blood, running down the wall, forming words." She gulps, clearly in shock but recovering now that rescue has come.
"It was trying to talk to me. It asked me who I am, what my name is." She shudders violently and not with the cold. She takes one last look at the bare wall: "It was there. It was" before turning and stumbling into her brother's arms, where she starts to weep from a mix of fear, confusion and relief that she's ok.
The horror of sitting blissfully in a hot bathtub before seeing letters of blood condense on the wall is one she will not easily forget.
You have long since lost the paladin's "natural" ability to perceive the shades of evil around you, due to your exposure to the horrors of teh Worldwound. Still, there are times when even your senses are alerted ("by the pricking of my thumbs") - this happens very rarely, and never with people. When it does happen, it is when you get a sense of evil that radiates from a place or an object.
You have that sense right now, radiating from the sigils on Cathyriel's body.
Kendra looks astonished, and then dubious. She can smell the sherry Cathy has been drinking, and she got a sense of just how tired the girl was when they were talking. "Are - are you sure about this, Cathy?"
Seeing that Cathy is clearly in deep distress, whatever the cause, she utters some instructions in Draconic to Yuriel and a large towel unfolds itself from the corner of the room and wraps itself around Cathy's middrif. Another, smaller towel, folds up around her long hair and wraps up in a sort of turban.
Finally, a bathrobe floats across the room and puts itself on her.
Alexi holds his sister close, the moisture on her naked body soaking his own shirt. ”Shh... It’s okay, Cathy. Whatever it was, it is gone now.” His tone is soothing, but his expression remains concerned.
He steps back as Yuriel dresses Cathy, grateful for Kendra’s intervention. ”Something happened here. Perhaps it has something to do with those marks on your body, sister. Where did you get them? They make me feel... uneasy.”
Cathyriel gratefully lets the towel-bathrobe combination do its thing, before curling her arms around Alexi with the determination of one who isn't letting go any time soon. Or possibly ever. She sniffs, wiping her nose on the collar of the bathrobe.
She rolls her eyes at Kendra's question. "Uh-huh. I'm very sure. It was, it was like..." She racks her brains for something sensible to say that will persuade Kendra.
Is it too late for me to use that ability to open up to haunts? I legit forgot about it.
”Something happened here. Perhaps it has something to do with those marks on your body, sister. Where did you get them? They make me feel... uneasy.”
Cathy shakes her head, bone weary. "That is such a long story and I am so, so tired, please I just want to..." she starts to cry again.
Alexi nods and squeezes Cathy’s hand. ”Very well. A story for another time, then. Come, you should get to bed.”
Cathy is absolutely sure that what she has experienced is a haunt, although she's not able to explain why it manifested itself here. But there are many categories of haunt, and while most aer simple there are many that are not. It is possible this is a more complicated one that she hasn't read about.
Kendra looks sceptical, but fully accepts that something has badly shaken Cathy in the time since she last saw her in the kitchen. As gently as she can, she tries to persuade her out of it - but it is she who has overlooked something: "Cathy, I can see that something is defintely wrong. But this house is safe - I mean the wards my father puts on this place-" could well all have gone inactive in teh time since he died. She doesn't say it, but you can see it on her face.
"Oh. Oh my goodness. Cathy, I am so sorry to have doubted you." She gives Cathy a hug before looking at Alexi. "Can you get her into bed? I need to look some things up, and then we should talk."
Looking troubled, she hurries away.