Kendra Lorrimor's page

"Perhaps you could visit the prison by a roundabout route?" muses Kendra. "No one really heads up to the prison anymore, but some might wonder about your leaving the town in that direction, especially as you'd go past the desecration of the memorial again, as it's really the only thing up there. But if you left town on the east side, you could head back round once you're further away."

"Forgive me, but does not one of your names begin with a 'V', Alessa?" Kendra looks worried at the prospect. "And then there's Father Grimburrow. His first name is Vauran, though, of course, he's not a woman. Nor is Vashian Hearthmount, who was the chap you met who read Dad's will -- what if you're wrong about the women thing, Xavian. Ooh, and then, what about Vrodish -- she's that deputy we saw with Benjamin, just now. She was near the monument, and a woman. And Sarianna Vai - she runs the Outward Inn on the east side of the square, though I saw her with others at the monument, just now. Her name's nearly the name as Vesorianna! This all seems very strange to me."

"I'm so glad you're all right. There was the most horrible hullabaloo a little while ago, and all sorts of people -- the great and the good included -- were rushing past outside. I was dying to know where they were all going, but remembered what you said about leaving the house. I thought you might have caused another... sorry... disturbance... but I couldn't work out why it would have been in the south of the town. Whatever it was, people seemed to have calmed down now -- I've seen one or two people coming back, but they didn't look happy."

Cassandra peers out the window to see if she can spot aught that's up... but all's quiet... at least in this neck of town.

It is with enormous relief that when you come onto the street with the Professor's house you discover there is not a great commotion outside it. Indeed, away from the marketplace, the lane appears deserted.

Your hurried and somewhat desperate knocking on the door causes Kendra to come to the other side of it and, without opening it, ask -- with very little quaver in her voice, you're pleased to note -- who it might be that knocks so, and to state your business. Upon hearing that it is you, she wastes no time in opening the door, and says brightly, "Are you back already? That's good. Did you get what you were after?"

Nothing in her demeanour indicates there might be anything wrong.

"Would you mind horribly if I shared a room with you? Xavian is quite concerned, and I don't know what I'd do if any harm were to come to you. Please?"

"No, I'd not mind at all. I hope I don't disturb you with another nightmare, though. The bed is quite big enough to take us both," says Kendra, happily. "Thanks so much for helping with everything -- you're all being far too good to me."

"Oh, I shan't sleep now. Might as well get up and start being useful. I'll be down in the kitchen in just a bit, but you must all go back to bed. I'll be very quiet, from now on, I promise."

"No, no, please don't think you're unwelcome. I feel so silly now. I wouldn't hear of you sleeping somewhere else." Kendra returns Alessa's smile with a hint of coyness, but an equal amount of sincerity. "I apologize for disturbing your sleep. I certainly didn't mean to, of course."

Alessa looks at the furniture Kendra used to bar the door. "Such extreme measures to lock the bedroom door of your own home, Kendra. Are we to be expecting uninvited guests? I would have liked to have been prepared myself."

"I'm sorry, you must think me awfully rude. It's just that Dad was always so insistent that I never really trust anyone I don't know, and now all these weird things going on, and strangers in his house, I just don't know what to do any more. And all your tales of the Whispering Way and necromancers, I just knew I'd not be able to sleep. Fat lot of good barring the door did, though. You all think I'm a nutcase, now. And, of course, no one's slept at all now. Oh dear," and with that, Kendra has to stifle a sniffle. Alessa senses nothing untoward about what Kendra says at all -- it seems like the absolute truth. Kendra fans her face and tries to regather her wits, pretending that nothing untoward is happening. "What hour of the clock is it?" she asks.

The last bell you heard was announcing 4 in the morning, but that was a while ago -- the fifth hour might have sounded, and you could've missed it.

"Well, it's a bit silly really, but I dreamt that Dad was in the room with me, standing at the foot of the bed. But something about him told me it wasn't really him, his eyes were all funny. And then whatever it was started walking through the bed towards me -- literally through it, its hands outstretched reaching for me as I sat bolt upright in bed. I think that's what made me scream. That woke me up, I think, and it turned out I wasn't sitting up in bed at all, but all sort of tangled in the covers. I really am most dreadfully sorry for waking you all, you must think me the most frightful ninny."

"No, not at all. Normally I sleep very well. I guess it's just the stress of today and those nasty hoodlums at the cemetery. I'm really sorry for waking you all -- it just seemed so very... real" says Kendra, who although clearly shaken, already seems to have regained much of her poise and dignity.

Xavian senses no dissemblance on Kendra's part, merely an undercurrent of embarrassment.

There is a pause, whilst you hear some more rustling, and then the sound of a heavy piece of furniture being moved. Finally, you hear the sound of the shank in the bolt being jiggled, and the door opens a crack to reveal a very white-faced Kendra in a floor-length dressing robe. "I'm very sorry, I guess I woke you... So silly of me. A bad dream..."

It doesn't take someone of Xavian's intellect long to realize there is no lock to pick, the door is merely bolted or held fast in some way from the inside. You perceive some faint rustling of sheets and eiderdowns, but then to your enormous relief, Kendra's quavery voice is heard. "Just a moment..."

Kendra nods sagely at all Xavian's instructions, and instantly has a suggestion for where she might go when the party is absent. "I shall go to Jominda's, the apothecary here in town. She is a good friend of Dad's, and by extension, mine also. I trust her absolutely. You would have seen her at the funeral this afternoon: tall, elegant, attractive lady. I did wonder whether Dad wasn't a little sweet on her."

"Um, two of you will have to share, I'm afraid. And one of you will have to take Dad's room, I have not the heart. But other than that you're welcome to make free with the entire house, as I say."

"Kendra, I'll accept your hospitality and lodge here with you. Is there anything I can do to help repay your generosity? Perhaps I can assist in the kitchen to make dinner."[/b]

"Oh that would be marvellous! Daddy was always *so* useless in that regard -- didn't know where a single thing in the kitchen lived. Couldn't even toast some bread without wandering off to "check on something" -- it's amazing the house didn't burn down years ago. It would be lovely to cook with someone else and have a natter whilst doing it. And, of course, it will take my mind off... things. I do think you're brave to contemplate all these matter that you do. No wonder Dad considered you all his trustworthy friends. I'm honoured to meet you all, truly."

Cassandra lowers the book in stunned disbelief "It looks like your suspicions might be correct, Xavian. Professor Lorrimor found out the the Whispering Way were after something/someone still trapped in the prison's ruins and they killed him for his trouble. Or it still may be a coincidence, not that I believe that anymore than you do."

"Alessia perhaps you and I can go discuss this cache with the local priest, Father Grimburrow, and obtain his permission to investigate this crypt. It would be far better to recieve his blessing beforehand than be caught skulking around the graveyard like some bodysnatchers."

Coming round from her reverie, Kendra picks up on the conversation, and immediately offers to write a letter of introduction for you to the priests at the temple, and seems confident that she could persuade Father Varian Grimburrow to be sympathetic to your cause.

A chill goes down Shanoa's back as she listens to the journal entries and becomes increasingly uncomfortable in her chair. "Kendra, you mentioned before they say the old prison is haunted. Your father seemed quite sure there are real ghosts - what happened there?"

"Oh yes, absolutely. Father believed in such things completely. He'd seen more than enough evidence in his travels, and used to share scary stories on the last day of Kuthona as we waited up for the new year to begin," Kendra muses, but then tails off, a faint aura of past remembrances descending and bringing respectful silence in its wake.

She looks over at the still silent Kendra, she adds "Perhaps Mistress Lorrimor, in her grief, would like some time alone and not with four strangers."

Kendra soon pipes up. "Oh, I should not hear of it, Cassandra. There's more than enough space here, and having people to look after will give me a focus. I rather need something like that. And as you're being so kind as to obey father's last will, I cannot imagine he'd think you live anywhere else but here. All his gubbins is here, to boot. Talking of which..."

"It seems the professor has left in our care his most valuable treasure." Xavian smiles at Kendra. "I am at your service as well, Lady Lorrimor."

Kendra blushes very prettily at that, and appears to gather herself again.

"Well, the sheriff, that's Benjan Caeller, did the... investigation. Not sure how much of an investigation it was, truth be told. It was fairly clear what had done for Dad, I suppose. It's just a mystery what he was doing up there. And what made the stone fall. Dad did some odd explorations occasionally."

Don't worry though - at least I won't think any less of you for being a scholar. He's right, though, there weren't many details in the letter. Kendra, is there anything you can share about his passing?"

Kendra takes a deep breath, and you fear there may be tears again. But, in fact, she appears to pull herself together, and talks quite coherently. "It's very odd, actually. Dad was found lying on his back near one of Harrowstone’s walls -- that's the old disused prison up the hill. No idea what he was doing there, but if you believe the people that found him, a stone gargoyle water-spout from the guttering in the roof above fell on him. He would have died instantly... there was little left of him..." Kendra swallows, and takes a deep breath, but manages to keep a hold of herself. "Above the neck, I mean. Completely crushed -- we could not have had an open casket -- I think that might have added to... people's suspicions. I just cannot explain what he was doing there -- there wasn't a storm that night, so it wasn't lightning or wind that made the stone fall, and there was no reason that I know of for him to be up that way anyway. It's all a bit of a mystery."

Xavian spends some time walking about the living room studying the tomes and scrolls with a keen interest reading what snippets he can of their contents be it the title or a bit of whats inside. When the wine is offered, he asks, "I"m not much of a drinker, dear lady. Might I trouble you for some tea. Preferably Tien Green Tea, but whatever tea is available would be fine. A light touch of honey if possible."

"Oh, of course," says Kendra. "That's no trouble at all. Daddy has..." she stumbles slightly in her delivery, but swiftly recovers, "I mean, 'had' quite the collection of teas. He was rather partial to them, as I'm sure you remember. Some had quite the oddest side effects -- I feel sure that one or two weren't really tisanes at all, but rather some sort of alchemical experiment. Kendra titters very prettily.

After he receives his tea he takes his seat with the others listening to their tales, he says to Kendra when the conversation provides a moment's break, "Quite a library this home is. More than a few interesting tomes on these shelves. Do you share your father's passion for knowledge, Lady Lorrimor?"

"Oh my, no, no, I could wish. I have some small smattering of arcane knowledge myself, but I'm fully aware that my understanding occupies but the smallest corner of Father's vast wealth of knowledge. I cannot understand half the languages these books are written in, and believe me, Father has done his very best to teach me rather more languages than are given to most to speak. You are very welcome to peruse the shelves in this house yourself -- if you see something that appeals, I'm sure Father would like you to have it."

Alessa pauses momentarily to take another sip of wine before continuing. "Lorrimor mentioned returning to Ravengro once or twice during our travels. There was always "just one more task to be done". Had I known he had a daughter here, I would have pestered him into allowing me to accompany him home sooner. I would have liked to have met you under better circumstances, Kendra. Your father was a good man."

Kendra blushes a little, but accepts the compliment graciously. "As I say, dear Dad was quite often off on an adventure -- I wish, in many senses, that I had been old enough to join him during his journeying, but Mother was always so insistent that I should not."

Sipping the wine and helping herself to several pieces of food, Shanoa gazes absentmindedly around the house. How did I come to be here with these people? Such a strange turns of events my life has become. Kendra's inquiries bring her back to the present, though. "I grew up a girl of modest means of Courtaud in Lozeri, some 75 miles almost due north from here. I already mentioned my younger childhood was not a pleasant one, though I was never mistreated or abused as such - I don't want to sound as if I've had worse troubles than others. I've been working odd jobs since I came of age and even traveled as far as Galt on one occasion to meet an acquaintance of the late Professor. It really is amazing what a traveled man he was - how did he ever have time for family with when he kept himself so busy?"

"Ah yes, but Dad so often did *not* have time for his family, truth be told," admits Kendra, though there is no rancour in her voice. "Were it not for Mother, I'm sure I should have become quite the strange, wild child. Don't get me wrong, though, Dad was always very loving, but he was *so* easily distracted. He did disappear for weeks at a time -- that was harder on my Mother than on me, I think, in some ways. Children are so very acceptant that *that* is just the way things are."