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[h2][color=598527][i][b]Kathryn Pyke[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=598527]Human, Fighter (Rune Knight), Level 05[/color][/b][/i]
[color=598527][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 49 / 49	[color=598527][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 19	[color=598527][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=598527][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] The Big House
[color=598527][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=598527][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=598527][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A 
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[right][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/7884b36a-e3f0-48fb-9689-1a8fd4af7f5a.png[/img][/right]
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	Kathryn was hesitant to enter without an answer, but truth be told, she was cold too. Truth be told, she wasn't sure if she could reasonably consider Cecily a suspect in all the chaos going on. Even if she did have motives that could be tied into things. "[color=598527]Okay, that sounds like a good plan.[/color]" Kathryn said warmly, struggling to hide her dread from how things have begun to turn. Once inside, she closed the door behind her and found a comfortable spot to stand, too on edge to sit just yet. Too worried for more to go wrong. Inside the home it was... so much. She remembered how the keep she grew up in was also finely decorated. But this seemed so much even by what she remembered of home. She guessed it was a different kind of money compared  too home. A lot more money had to be spent on fortifications and guard work. Homes had to be forts. There were no exceptions to that back home. But here? Wealth was spent on showing just how much wealth families had. She had seen that at home too, with some keeps white washing their stone walls, and some wealthier families gathering art, paintings, artifacts, and placing them on display across their homes. Showing a tale and strong history of their families and their conquests. Even then, this felt different. There was no need to show conquest, this was a land of relative peace. A disturbance in that meant something was wrong, rather than just another adventure for the local lords to deal with, or a local adventuring party. 

	When Cecily returned, Kathryn felt relieved, and concerned. She worried there would be more to things than just what she had asked of the poor woman. Maybe she had the keys? Maybe she didn't. Maybe... there was a catch. When Kathryn was offered the tea, she first thanked the worker who brought it to her with a soft head nod, and gently taking the cup with both hands. "[color=598527]Thank you very much.[/color]" She tried to say warmly. But her nerves were beginning to show. She was tense. The tea did help, but the tension was in the air. "[color=598527]Thank you too Cecily. A warm drink was a good idea.[/color]" She said taking a soft sip of the tea, and deciding she wanted it to cool just a bit more. "[color=598527]It's wonderful.[/color]" Spoken through a gentle but mournful smile. Kathryn then took the pile of things gently and with care from the serving woman who seemed familiar. Kathryn wished she had taken better care to learn the names of the staff who had been helping to take care of them these last few months. "[color=598527]Thank you.[/color]" She said to the woman before turning to Cecily again. "[color=598527]I will make sure she gets these things. You have my word.[/color]"

	Kathryn's expression darkened while listening to Cecily. As she talked a bit about Lizbeth's unknown condition, and about the situation leading up to the stranger events that had been taking place. But what really caught Kathryn's attention, was the most important statement. Lizbeth had died?! Hearing this, there was audible confusion on Kathryn's face. For the briefest of moments, Kathryn felt weak, like her legs wanted to give out from underneath her. How was she supposed to respond to such information?! Her body answered that for her by crashing down into the nearest chair she could find letting her legs give out from under her while her mind attempted to process the information she had just been told. With a few deep breaths, a bewildered expression, and a rather large sip of tea, Kathryn finally found the words to speak. "[color=598527]Are you sure?[/color]" She wanted to ask more, get more detailed. How long was she dead? Could she had been in a coma or some other deep sleep? Maybe she was too weak to register?! It didn't make sense... But the words couldn't come. The only thing that could come out was repeating the same question. "[color=598527]I mean, are you really sure?[/color]" Kathryn asked, this time a little sterner than she meant too. But the way she described it, she couldn't be too sure... But... could it be true? Did that make Lizbeth... Lizbeth? Or was she just a thrall like Morty? A thrall she was emotionally invested into. A thrall who she cared for and wanted to see live a good live. "[color=598527]Maybe she had recovered? Or one of the gods took pity on her and healed her?[/color]" Kathryn sounded almost desperate in her questioning. If Lizbeth had died, it complicated things so much more than they had been. The idea that the little squire she had been spending her days with was little more than an echo of the person she used to be, or a puppet being controlled from afar, or something... else. It unsettled Kathryn. Or maybe, just maybe, she was still herself? Maybe some powerful being had taken pity or mercy on her and saved her in their own way? But what did that mean for their current necromancer problem?

	"[color=598527]I... That sounds good. You don't need to send anyone tonight. We're stocked up enough to wait until the night passes or this current storm. I think we all have a lot to process.[/color]" She was always uncomfortable with the idea of necromancy. But the idea that someone she cared for could be a puppet or thrall? It left a part of Kathryn feeling empty. It left a part of Kathryn feeling like a piece of her had withered away. But as Cecily said, she was still the same girl. She would die for her, and Kathryn decided that should it come to it she would do the same. Even if just an echo, even if she was surviving on magic gifted to her to grant her life where there was none, she was still the girl she had spent the fall training and having fun with. But, something was wrong with these lands, something was wrong with Lizbeth it seemed. Something was wrong in Avonshire. A part of her wondered if the patron who worked with Arnaud L'Rose was the same one to work with the late constable. The one who sent the silk laden thralls. She couldn't be sure, but she was determined to find out. "[color=598527]I'll take care of Lizbeth, and I will get to the bottom of this. You have my word on that.[/color]" The mournful tone was still there, but pushing through it was a warm comforting smile of a woman with a will strong enough to do the right thing even when it would be hard. She would not allow any harm to fall to Lizbeth or anyone else here. Anyone who tried to do so otherwise she would send back into the soil herself.