Ghosts
(22 Aug 2001) Alice has tea with Mr. Richard Kuning at Harcourt Manor.
(Alice) (The Key)

Alice's brother, Gabriel, is one of the children that Agatha's brother has recruited to help clean the place up, and so Gabriel, having been asked to keep an eye on Alice, has brought her along, then sat her down in the kitchen and told her to be on her best manners.

"What? Your little sister? Well, I don't see why not..," comes a deeper male voice outside, faintly accented, perhaps Germanic. A somewhat portly old man, full-bearded in white and balding of pate, steps into the kitchen next to Gabriel, suspenders over his long-sleeved white shirt holding up his pants. There's a faint sense of deja vu, as if Alice has seen him before ... but when and where, she cannot recall. The memory eludes her as deftly as a butterfly.

For his part, the old man examines Alice for a moment, as if searching for something, and then shakes his head. "She is too young to be here. I cannot be minding her and tending to what needs to be done here, Gabriel, and in a house like this, there are many perils."

From outside comes Toby's voice, Agatha's brother. "I could use a hand with the lifting, Gabe!"

Gabriel looks pleading at Richard, who exhales in a long sigh. "Very well. We will have tea, and then I will expect that you take her back home, Gabriel."

Alice's brother looks relieved, and hurries out to help Toby with the moving. "Thanks, sir!"

The old man moves to a cabinet and takes out a tea pot and begins filling it with water from the sink. "I am Richard Kuning. How are you called, little one?"

"Hi!" exclaims Alice after the man's greeting. She had looked somewhat disheartened by being told she'd need to go home, but the expression quickly faded once the man began to address her directly. "I'm Alice! Alice Westfield. My mom calls me Angel."

Mr. Kuning puts the kettle on the stove to begin boiling the water, and takes a smaller clay pot, which smells of herbs, setting it on the counter. "Angel... Indeed. Is it a name that you like?"

Alice nods a bit. "Oh yes! I like angels, especially the ones at school. My brother calls me Shorty sometimes, but I like Angel better. It's my favorite name," answers the little girl.

Mr. Kuning takes out a larger dish of wood, and a smaller pot which rustles a bit, apparently filled with herbs, then two cups. "Shall I call you Angel then?" he asks. "And would you like cookies with your tea?"

"I would like to be called Angel, Mr. Kuning." A memory scoots in to Alice's mind and waves, and Alice waves back. She remembers the raven and answers. "Yes," she begins politely, though giggles a little. "I would like a cookie. Thank you."

A raised eyebrow. "Well, fortunately for you, I happen to have purchased some only this morning," Mr. Kuning replies. Another cabinet, another jar, this one glass so that Alice can see the sugar cookies inside, and a small plate on which the old man sets four of them. He replaces the jar and sets the cookies in front of Alice, then settles into one of the old, heavy wooden chairs by the kitchen's table. "It will take some time for the water to boil, I fear."

Alice folds her hands in her lap and sits smiling at the grown-up who rather dwarfs her. "You have a very neat house, Mr. Kuning. It's old and dusty but I think it will be very pretty when it's all cleaned up. My brother plays sports so he can move a lot of stuff, and if he doesn't, you can point at him and say 'You'll do your chores or they'll be no party for you this weekend,' which helps," she says.

Mr. Kuning raises an eyebrow. "I think you have mistaken me for Mr. Westfield, who might be in a rather more suitable position for such a declaration, Angel. But yes, Harcourt Manor is an interesting, and storied, house. I am informed by neighbors that a gentleman who lived here once was struck by lightning while cleaning the cupola windows during a storm. Perhaps his ghost haunts the place yet, but if so..." He spreads his hands. "I have not yet seen it."

Alice wrinkles her nose at the mention of what happened to one of the previous owners, and a bit more at the mention of ghosts. "This is very much like the ghost houses in stories. Only those didn't have any cookies. I hope you don't have any ghosts, Mr. Kuning, but if you do I hope they like cookies," Alice offers.

"I rather suspect that they might hunger for more dire things," the old man says, brows furrowing, perhaps contemplating something far in the past. He jumps as the kettle whistles, and then stands, walking to the counter. "How fares the summer for you, Angel?"

The girl blinks a little at the man's dire words, eyes widening. "I ... Oh! I like the summer, all the fields are blooming now but Rebecca is gone, but a foreign student came and took her place for a while. I like her." The girl watches the man set to pouring, then asks hesitantly, "This house isn't really haunted, Mr. Kuning?"

Richard places the clay teapot onto the larger wooden dish, then fills it with hot water. Curiously, he then replaces the lid atop it without having put any tea in, then pours hot water over the teapot until the dish brims, and fills the smaller cups as well. "If there are ghosts, perhaps they are too shy to introduce themselves to me, and will make themselves known in the fullness of time," he says. "Is Rebecca a close friend then? And who is this foreign student? I had not thought that school took place in the summer."

Alice watches the man prepare tea with curious attention, never having seen anyone go about the process quite like that before. "I wonder if they speak in riddles too? Ghosts, that is. Sometimes ar-cane things speak in riddles." She resumes her smile and reaches over to pick up a cookie. "Rebecca is my best friend. She knows everything, even magic. Elinor is the exchange student, but it's really more of an exchange-for-the-summer student because Rebecca did so well at school. She comes from Rural-tania."

Richard pours out the water from the pot and the cups into the sink, then opens the herb pot and takes out tightly rolled leaves, which he packs into the clay teapot. He pours hot water into the pot again, then closes it to steep and turns back toward Alice. "I should not be surprised should they choose to riddle. It is a favorite pastime of those with quick minds. And perhaps it is a necessary device when speaking of some things that might otherwise draw untoward attention. Like a secret code. Or ciphers." A slight pause. "Ruraltania? I have not heard of the country..." He glances toward the window, but his gaze does not seem fixed on anything close.

Alice looks about to say something but pauses, watches the old man for a moment, then asks instead, "Are you okay, Mr. Kuning? You look far away."

He shakes his head. "An old man's worries, little Angel. Nothing more." Sniffing the air from the pot, Mr. Kuning evidently decides that the leaves have steeped long enough, and lifts the pot from the wooden dish, wipes the bottom with a towel, and pours the tea into a separate pitcher. He replaces the pot on its dish and carries the pitcher and the cups to the table, where he pours tea for Alice and for himself, filling the cups to the two-thirds mark. "Do have a cookie, Alice. Your parents. Are they well? Do you live in a happy home?"

"Thank you, Mr. Kuning," says Alice when the grown-up pours her tea. She reaches over and picks up a cookie, which she holds by both hands after nibbling it a bit. "My mom and dad are very busy with my brothers. Gabriel does a lot of sports and my little brother needs a lot of attention. Mom and Dad are okay though, and they let me go play when I want to because they're busy," she answers.

A faint look of concern crosses Richard's brows as he sips from his own cup. "And this play ... What sort of play is it in which you indulge?"

"Oh, we play all sorts of things. But we've been playing knights and princesses and sorcerers and jesters! Simon is the jester, Elinor is a oracle, Thomas is a explorer and he thinks I think he's mean but I really don't, and I'm the princess. Rebecca is the sorceress but she's far away in Rural-tania now," explains the blonde girl. She takes another nibble of cookie, puts it down, then picks up the tea cup and sips while she blinks through the aromatic smell that seeps from the drink.

Richard looks apologetic as he catches the look on Alice's face. "Do you wish honey or milk for your tea?" he asks.

Alice doesn't appear upset, more bewildered by the heavy smells of the tea. She sets her cup down and nods, however. "Yes, please. I like milk and honey, if that's okay, sir," she replies.

The old man nods. "Of course." He stands and opens the door which leads down to the root cellar, letting loose a cool breeze which smells of earth and vegetables, then walks down.

Alice leeeans forward to try and get a better look at the cellar. "Is it spooky down there, Mr. Kuning? I've never been in a house with a big cellar before."

"It is an older custom," Richard's voice calls back, echoing eerily from the cellar's depth. "Without refrigeration, vegetables and fruits must be stored in a cold, dry place. Often, they are buried in the earth. Too, a cellar like this may be used to store wine."

"My mom says I'm too young to drink wine. It's made of old grapes, my dad told me so," Alice says. "May I come down and see the cellar, Mr. Kuning? I've never seen a old custom cellar before."

A pause, and then the voice calls back, "You may, but watch your steps. Without a light here, it can be very dark."

"Okay." Alice scoots herself out of her seat, hoping down and brushing her dress out a bit before she begins down. At the edge of the stairway she slowly edges down in to the dark. "I bet my room would fit in a cellar like this. This is a very big house."

Wood beams overhead hold back the earth. There is a light down the cellar to the left, illuminating Richard's face and left hand, that flickers and wanes, and casts long shadows from the support pillars. In the light from the kitchen, Alice can see racks of wine bottles, spider-webbed, along the walls, and a long slope of loose earth through which a few vegetables peek, as if living testimony of Richard's explanation of the root cellars. Here, it is dark and difficult to see what Alice suspects is a flagstoned floor, irregularly textured.

Slowly Alice descends the stairs in to the shadows, smile wavering as she peers around in the dark. "Shadows can be very dangerous," she says suddenly, quietly.

There is a sound of something being pulled from the earth, and sloshing, and then the light starts to approach Alice again. It casts shadows across Richard's face. Again, she has the feeling that she's seen Richard before ... but where? She cannot recall the moment.

Alice stops on the stairs, one hand steadying her on the wall while the other reaches to her chest in an expression of mild surprise. "Have ... have we met before, Mr. Kuning?" The shadowy cast across the man's face makes him hard for her to see, so she tilts her head a little and tries to see him in a better light.

The candle comes closer, for that is what the light is, and then Richard reaches down to take Alice's hand as he leads her up the stairs gently. "It is said all men are related, descended from some common ancestor long ago. It would not be surprising if I looked like someone that you knew, Angel," he says. At the top of the stairs, he blows the candle out and sets it on a little shelf for the purpose, next to strike-anywhere safety matches.

The little girl nods a little to the man's words and follows him as he leads her by the hand. "That's very wise, Mr. Kuning. I bet Rebecca would like that," she says.

Mr. Kuning pours thick, heavy cream into a smaller pitcher much easier for Alice to use to sweeten her tea, then sets the larger one aside on the counter and fetches a smaller bottle of honey from the pantry. "Your cream and honey, Angel," he says, a faint smile on his face. "If your Rebecca is a sorceress, undoubtedly she is fond of wise sayings."

"Thank you, Mr. Kuning." The girl picks up the small pitcher and begins pouring a little in to her tea as her mom had taught her. "Rebecca says all sorts of wise things. She even knows foreign languages, and magic, and knows all the right ways to say things. She teaches me a lot."

Richard sits and sips at his tea again. "Few these days believe in magic," he says. "Nor ghosts, nor even haunted houses."

"I believe in magic," says Alice without hesitation. "And unicorns, and funny birds that talk in riddles, and even ghosts and ... shadows." The last of her list makes her wrinkle her nose again. "Do you believe in magic, Mr. Kuning?"

Richard strokes his beard. "I have seen many strange things, to be sure. Tell me more, Angel. What is it that you have seen?"

Alice puts a bit of honey in her tea, stirs, then holds the cup with both hands as she watches the liquid and her reflection. "You ... you want to hear? Grown-ups don't want to hear, and Thomas doesn't believe me ..," she asks uncertainly.

The old man smiles. "Perhaps one must be very young or very old to have time for foolishness, little Angel. Yes, I would like to hear." He sips tea again, and takes one of the cookies.

The girl looks up, eyes wide, and she beams at the old man. "Okay! Well, it started in the park across from school when we were looking for the king, and trying to figure out a puzzle, and then ... " She goes on to relate the shadows in the forest, Lord Mel's rescue, the shadows at school and the magic during the adventure to the island. " ... and they call the shadows jruuh and they work for the Year's End."

A fleeting look of worry crosses Richard's face before he regains his look of gentle wisdom. "It is a dark and troubled story that you are telling me," he says. "Would not you enjoy playing a brighter and happier story, of a better time?"

"But, it's ... it's ... our story ... and it's not really a story anymore because it's real and ... and we can't just stop now," answers Alice. She searches the man's face, as if trying to find the disbelief she expects.

There is no disbelief, but there is worry and perhaps pain in his eyes, though Alice does not know over what. "Do not let yourself be carried away by the story," Richard advises. "You may choose not to play, or to play a different story. The story only seems so real because you choose to let it be so." He pours some of the milk for himself, then sips the sweetened tea.

Alice takes another sip of tea, then puts her cup down and holds a cookie in both hands while watching the man. "But I don't want the Year's End to come. If we stop, won't he come and there won't be any more Renewal?" she asks.

"Only if you believe he will," the old man says. "It is only a story. Perhaps in the end, everything works out well after all."

"So ... so if we believe differently and play a different game then maybe ... that'll come true? I don't understand," says the little girl. She looks up from her tea and tilts her head. "Are you okay, Mr. Kuning? You look worried."

A laugh that might be forced. "Well, I am thinking that I should see how Toby and Gabriel are doing with their work," Richard says. He looks in the cups to see Alice's is empty, and pours her some more from the tea pitcher. "Bide here a moment and I shall see how they fare with the stable work, little Angel,"

"Okay, Mr. Kuning," says Alice. She watches him curiously, blinking a bit from his strange laugh.

The old man rests his hand on Alice's shoulder. "Believe in what is good and joyful, Angel." He walks through a door into the darkened halls of the house. As he does so, a cloud passes momentarily across the sun, making the room just a little darker.

Alice nods a little to his words. They make her smile a bit more, and she waits for him to return as the room grows darker. Her fingers fidget where she left them around her tea cup. "It really is a spooky house ..," she whispers to herself.

The light brightens a bit as the cloud passes, then darkens again, another cloud moving in. The sky seems a bit grayer, and without anyone else here, the kitchen seems far too big for one little girl.

Alice fidgets a bit more, peering around the kitchen and thinking how lonely it is in here all alone. A hand moves from her tea cup and she picks up a cookie and nibble on it to ease her fears of the darkened house.

There is a distant creaking noise. Alice has heard that this is not uncommon in old houses, as they heat up or cool down, but knowing that doesn't make it any less disturbing. Another creaking. It almost sounds as if someone was moving through the house slowly.

Another few nibbles and the cookie is gone. Alice picks up another and begins to eat that one. "Hello? Mr. House?" she whispers quietly. "Can you not be so scary?"

A pause. Then rapid thumping. Something is moving through the house, and quickly.

"Eek!" exclaims Alice. She scoots out of her chair and looks around, then scurries off to try and hide in somewhere. Anywhere. She hurries towards the stairs that lead to the basement.

When Alice reaches the stairs she reaches for the matches, remembers she's not supposed to play with matches, and leaves them there. Soon she is carefully easing her way down the steps in to the dark to try and hide where the stairs reach the basement floor.

The steps are cold under Alice's feet, even though she's wearing shoes, and the darkness quickly envelopss her, so that she can only see a white doorway where the kitchen lies. There is scant lighting down here. The thumping noises sound more distant however, and soon fade away.

A chill wind rustles the hairs on the back of Alice's neck.

Alice decides to stay where she can see the light of the doorway, and stay at the bottom of the stairs for now. When the wind touches her she shrinks against the wall and shakes her head a little. "Go away," she says meekly.

The wind fades, and the air is still.

Time passes, as Alice trembles fearfully against the wall, and then there is a faint whinnying sound from far off. It sounds as if it were coming from up the stairs, though of course it isn't possible that there could actually be a horse in the kitchen.

The sound makes Alice peer up past her hands, which she had clutched together in front of her face in a hope that if she can't see the dark, it can't see her. But there isn't any horses in the house ... or even nearby, she doesn't think. "H-hello ..?"

No answer. Of course, how would a horse talk?

Some horses talk, she thinks. Carefully she begins to ease herself out of the dark and climb back upstairs. Horses are a lot less scary than a dark old basement.

She hears footsteps above. At least two people are walking in the house.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Alice makes her way up to the top of the stairs and leans against a wall, and after she musters the courage, she peers around the corner to look on to the kitchen. Pleasedon'tbeascaryshadowpleasedon'tbeascaryshadow.

Gabriel looks about in puzzlement. "Where did Alice go?" he asks of Richard, who looks equally mystified.

"Hi ..?" Alice scoots around the corner and stands fully in the kitchen, and gives a little wave.

"There you are!" Mr. Kuning says, obviously relieved, as is Gabriel. "What were you doing in the root cellar?"

Alice's older brother picks Alice up and ruffles her hair up, then notices the dirt on her dress. "Sheesh, squirt! Can't you stay clean for longer than a few minutes?" he says.

Alice giggles when her brother picks her up and messes up her hair. She tries half-heartedly to stop him. "I thought I heard a noise, and ... I was scared so I hid in the basement." She gives her brother a hug, and thinks despite being called "squirt" again, she's glad to see him. Even shadows would be afraid of Gabriel. "I heard a horse so I came back up, and you were here."

"A noise?" Richard asks, looking puzzled. "The house creaks sometimes, but it's old. Like me, it takes longer to warm up in the morning." He chuckles. "But the horse, that might have been Destre. Until the stables are repaired, I've kept him tethered to a fence post, and sometimes he slips loose. He is smart for a horse, but that does not mean that he will not stray if he has a chance."

Gabriel sets Alice back down, and starts brushing her dress off. "It's okay, kiddo. I'm going to take you back home now."

Alice nods a bit. "I thought Lord Mel game back to protect me from the noise," says Alice matter-of-factly. As she's set down she moves to help her brother brush her dress off. "He's very brave. Um ... Mr. Kuning? Can I come back and have tea again sometime?"

Richard looks toward the window, where the sunlight seems to have regained its proper brightness again. "Not until we've finished restoring the manor, Angel. It would be too dangerous otherwise, with all the things that need to be fixed. After that..." He smiles. "After that, yes, you may."

She beams. "Yay! Thank you, Mr. Kuning." The girl reaches one of her small hands up to take one of her brother's much larger ones. "I can't wait to see it when it's all done."

Gabriel looks a bit embarrassed. "Sorry, Mr. Kuning, I thought it would be safe with all the people around the house." He squeezes Alice's hand a bit. "Okay, let's get moving, squirt. I'll be back in the afternoon, Mr. Kuning!"

Richard smiles. "Fare well, friends. Take care of little Angel, Gabriel."

Alice waves with her free hand. "Bye, Mr. Kuning!" With her brother holding her hand the little girl looks much relieved, and any trace of fear has since left her, to be replaced with her usual happy smile.

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.