This site contains all Lore pages that can be found in the Memory Book on the title screen.

Chapter 1Edit

The AwakeningEdit

Elderly Mr. L trusted three of his students most. Regan was pretty and all did as she told, for they sought her favor. Goneril was strong and all did as she told, for they feared her power. The third, Cordy, was so shy that no one ever heard her say a word.
One day before Cordy's ninth birthday, Mr. L was summoned to the Administrators' Office. He left the three in control of the room. The charismatic children ran to Regan, the athletic to Goneril, and the remainder drifted to Cordy. Regan's followers cackled as they joked and danced, Goneril's grunted as they sparred. and the quiet ones huddled closer to the corner. And Mr. L never came back.
And Cordy saw Regan and Goneril signal each other. And then all the beautiful and powerful children attacked the quiet ones. The bookcases were pulled down, and the desks tossed about, and all the quiet children killed. The victors poured out into the hallways delighted, for the teachers had vanished and the school was theirs.
Except, hidden beneath a fallen bookcase, Cordy was alive, and she had discovered how to speak.

On the GroundsEdit

A short path ending in a low stone wall and a pair of iron gates marks the formal entrance to the Edgewood Home for Lost Children, but the school's grounds stretch beyond the horizon.
Students are welcome to explore the countryside, which the Administrators describe as "inviting" in Edgewood's literature, but most choose to stay behind the wall or indoors altogether.
There are the strange, clawed shadows that flicker over the rocks in the distance.
There are the hissing sounds that come from the foothills just beyond the gate.
There are the struggling, hairy things that the groundskeepers drag in through the yard and down into the cellars each night.
The school's motto, "A Vigilant Mind Endures All," rises in cut metal over the gates. The sculptor somehow managed to create the letters in such a way that the message reads perfectly from either side.

On BooksEdit

Cordy's favorite books are the popular series The Adventures of Shuddering Jim and the Bandit.
Shuddering Jim is a bumbler who endures constant ridicule from him colleagues at the Global Detective Agency, all of whom are more clever and better dressed.
The Bandit is his mismatched nemesis, a master thief who assembled the world's finest collection of stolen art and artifacts.
Shuddering Jim is frequently imprisoned on the Bandit's battle yacht and humiliated by his henchmen, only to escape through the most implausible means at the last moment.
In one novel, a meteor strikes the Bandit's torture chamber moments before Jim's planned execution. In another, an assassin spontaneously combusts.
Jim tries to claim victory at the end of each book, but never gets closer to finding the Bandit.

The BroggsEdit

After massacring their enemies in the aftermath of the Disappearance, Goneril and Regan turned on many of their own followers.
These students were strong enough to survive the initial disappearance of the teachers, but too weak to carve a place for themselves in the new hierarchies of Capulets and Woundworts.
Expelled and haunted, they fled to Edgewood's darkest corners. Over time they grew feral, navigating the school through scent and instinct.
The other factions now call them the Broggs.
The Broggs tend to attack from the shadows, ambushing unwary visitors with a hail of rocks and thumbtacks. As of yet, there is no evidence to support rumors of fangs and claws.
Despite their lack of strategy or leadership, the Broggs control the lowerst floors of the building and many of the abandoned classrooms.
They are the scariest students in Edgewood except for all the others.

The WoundwortsEdit

The Woundworts are a warlike group of brawny children, led by Goneril, an enormous student who carries two croquet mallets.
The largest of the Woundworts fight by hurling furniture and fists, and there aren't really any small ones.
These were the Edgewood's worst bullies even before the Disappearance.
Many were suspected of un-Edgewood behavior during last year's Summer Merriment, in which several of the meeker students found themselves tied to the firework launching apparatus.
Today the Woundworts rely on simpler strategies, like blinding an unsuspecting passerby with chalk dust and then rolling globes towards him.

Frothy the DragonEdit

There's general disagreement about what exactly went wrong with Frothy the Cardboard Dragon during last year's Winter Musical.
Most believed that the dragon was intended to remain stationary, that it had a relatively minor role in the production and that red cellophane would have been just as effective as actual fire. Sadly, the enterprising student who originally designed the beast was consumed by his own creation moments before the theater was evacuated.
No one knows where the dragon went after leaving the auditorium, or whether it is still somewhere on the grounds. The Administrators gleefully described the incident as a 'remarkable occurrence that stood out in an otherwise unremarkable semester.'

Some Harmless MarkingsEdit

Before the adults disappeared, Regan had a gift for engaging her classmates with her popular chalkboard games. While the Administrators frown on most student attempts at leisure, they seemed pleased with her initiative. It was only after several weeks that it became difficult to ignore the odd fates and accidents later befalling those who joined Regan's fun.
While the Administrators poo-pooed initial reports of immolation, disintegration, and paralytic insanity, even they eventually had to order the games discontinued. The final straw was likely the fate of the unfortunate Nicolas Ellenwick, dragged into the wall by spectral hands just seconds after Regan defeated him in tic-tac-toe.

The Arrival Day GiftsEdit

Each student recieves a gift from the Administrators on the anniversary of his or her Arrival Day. No two gifts have ever been the same. Some are relatively benign, like the slinking device that could walk itself down a flight of stairs while spewing electric sparks. Others are more dangerous like the mechanical lobster claw that chewed through half a dormitory hall before burrowing into the floor and disappearing. Not all gifts threaten to maul or incinerate their recipients. Some, for instance, are only premonitory. One child recieved a white feather the day before a hawk dragged him off the terrace.
Unsurprisingly, many students prefer to hide their unopened gifts in disused closets or slip them down coal chutes. The Administrators frown on this practice, which they consider the 'absolute height of ingratitude,' and punish it severely.

Cauldron of YesterdayersEdit

Students who refuse to participate in mandatory kitchen maintenance activities may see their fresh stew replaced with a pot of 'Yesterdayers,' leftovers from the day before.
While the Administrators note that most students display no adverse reaction after receiving the older stew, thoses who actually eat it exhibit symptoms ranging from simple fever to uncontrollable rage.
There is no explanation for why a bowl of Yesterdayers continues to bubble even when served chilled, or why the kitchens are occasionally evacuated and sealed off when a forgotten cauldron of Yesterdayers is rediscovered.

Sudsy the InanimateEdit

In the aftermath of the Frothy incident at the Winter Musical, several students were dismayed to see that the Administrators had commissioned a second dragon sculpture for the Ice Carnival two weeks later. These hold-outs refused to attend, leading the Administrators to criticize their 'primitive superstition and very un-Edgewoodlike cowardice.' Ultimately they were carried to the terraces against their will, so that they could see for themselves that this new dragon represented no threat.
Following the destruction caused by the second dragon, the Administrators suggested that any mishaps were likely the result of a few ungrateful students bringing bad luck down on themselves and their friends.

Candelabra of LongingEdit

The Candelabra of Longing is a large chandelier that hangs above one of the many assembly halls. Students, against the recommendations of their peers, will sometimes scribble requests of slips of paper and toss them up to burn in the candles.
Rumor has it that the lantern will grant these requests, but at some unknown cost to the supplicant.
While the Administrators claim that the practice is "just one of the unique and harmless traditions that set Edgewood apart," naysayers point to the worrisome hand-like shapes in the flames and the way that the chain doesn't actually connect to anything on the ceiling.

The Rise and Fall of Queen CordyEdit

The cowering Woundworts emerged from the remains of their fortress to see Cordy standing over their former leader. They threw down their globes and chairs and erasers to see what the terrible girl would do next. Cordy's face flickered from expression to expression. Then it reformed into a smile no one could remember seeing on her before.
She turned to them and spoke, and her voice was jagged and deep, and when she was done the Woundworts picked up their weapons and swore to be twice as mean and wild as before. The new queen's reign was more gruesome than the old queen's, until she in turn was killed by a quiet girl no one had ever paid much attention to. So it went with Woundworts, and so it has always gone.
Still, some of the more thoughtful ones grunted later that they'd seen something in her face for that second, a coin flipping over and over in the air, the hint of a memory, the promise that next time it could always be different.

The Case of the Creaking TowerEdit

"This is the finest submarine ever designed," the sailor said. "The Bandit's henchmen will never find us here. We'll deliver this antique typewriter safely, sir, you can rest assured."
Shuddering Jim sighed and looked out the porthole. His knees ached. He kept having the same dream, where the elevator doors opened and the Bandit was waiting for him. At one hundred and fifty fathoms underwater, he wanted to agree with the sailor. Instead, he said, "It's beautiful down here."
Jim and the sailor stared out at the coral. Neither of them could see the serpentine creature behind them, the one with the oddly mechanical movements, which had followed them from the port.
Book Four in the Shuddering Jim Series, p53. Edgewood Library #2349012

The Case of the Furious ChandelierEdit

"I've always had a taste for reclaimed things," the fashion designer said. "The Platinum Crescent was originally considered vulgar. Bourgeoisie trash. Today it is known as the most beautiful sewing machine in the world. I keep it in my workshop. I'm here all day, every day, and i can't imagine it'd be safer anywhere else." She paused. "Excuse me, am i boring you?"
Shuddering Jim rubbed his eyes. "No," he said. "Just tired. Bad dreams keeping me up."
The designer wagged her finger. "Your dreams can be warnings. Be respectful." She gestured to the dresses on the mannequins that surrounded them in the shop. "They can also be beautiful. My dreams grace the runways of every fall and spring show worth mentioning."
Behind them, one of the Bandit's henchmen adjusted his mask. Not all of the mannequins were mannequins
Book Nine in the Shuddering Jim Series, p71. Edgewood Library #4102912

The Case of the Duplicitous DragonEdit

"I keep the paintings up here," the tycoon said. The Lights of the city spread beneath them like a starfield. "I call this room the solarium. Twenty-five hundred feet in the air, guards on every floor from here to the ground, nothing above us but glass and sky. So tell me about this Bandit. He reminds me of me. Self-made man!"
Shuddering Jim sipped his champagne politely. He hated saying nice things about the Bandit. "Yes," he said. "He was born in an orphanage, one of the bad ones in the slums. Traumatic place to grow up. While he's been successful since, i doubt even he has experienced a view like this."
They admired the night. Not twenty feet behind them, a black hot air balloon bumped against the building, invisible.
Book Twelve in the Shuddering Jim Series, p117. Edgewood Library #1289312

The Case of the Missing ChalkEdit

"You know why i offered you a job?" the chief asked, looking thoughtful at the remains of the virtuoso's security system. "Thirty years ago?"
"I assume," Jim Said, "That you wanted one less pickpocket on the streets." His knees ached. The Security system had been start of the art, uncrackable, and enchased in a thin layer of titanium. Someone had destoyed it by dropping a globe from the fifth floor balcony.
"And you were pretty good," the chief said. "One of the few people who could take a wallet from the outside breast pocket on an overcoat, as i recall. But it's simpler than that."
Jim knelt, trying to ignore the pain, sifting his hands through the wires and metal and broken glass. He raised a single white feather, the symbol worn by the Bandit's hencmen, aloft.
"Naively," the chief said. "I believe in redemption."
Book Thirteen in the Shuddering Jim Series, p83. Edgewood Library #2913212

Chapter 2Edit

A Tale RevisedEdit

A girl named Cordy awoke under a broken bookcase, confused and scared, having barely survived Goneril and Regan's attack in Mr. L's classroom. Every time a Cordy awoke under the bookcase, of course, the school was different.
The Edgewood Home for Lost Children is an uncertain place, and the hallways reorganize themselves in a variety of patterns. Strange things still danced on the chalkboards and sloshed in pots of stew, and somewhere Goneril still paced impatiently on an upper floor. This time, however, new creatures awaited her in the darkness.
Cordy recalled only the classroom. Memories can be reset, if not destroyed. Certain teachings, however, remained.

On the TeachersEdit

The professors at Edgewood were known only by letters. They did not appear to live inside the building, but no one ever saw them leave or enter. THey were not unkind.
Mr. L, Cordy's teacher, was so old that he needed to clutch at the blackbord as he staggered from the door to his desk. From there, however, he lectured thunderously, as if some obscure passage from literature was more than worth the final breaths left to his body. Cordy learned her love of reading from Mr. L.
Occasionally, however, he would sit silently and stare out at the students, as if some mystery in their behavior puzzled him. "You know," he would say, "an idea is difficult to destroy, but perhaps a fragment of one is even more dangerous."

On the FoundingEdit

The Administrators are vague on the subject of the school's founding and mission, leaving students to guess as to its broader history. A small number argue that it's simply a regular orphanage boarding school in the middle of a vast wasteland.
Some believe it is actually a prison of some kind, although no one remembers what they did to merit punishment. Some, pointing to the disjointed architecture and constant change in the building, claim that it must have sprouted naturally out of the rock.
A few outliers argue it is a science experiment, or credit and external group of benefactors they call the One Thousand Fifty, or suggest the whole thing is a form of purgatory.
As the Administrators explain, "It is enough to know that your presence here reflects a broader educational experience."

On the ArchivistsEdit

Children wandering the hallways at night will sometimes come across ghostly figures scribbling in notebooks. Some believe that these archivists are former students gone mad from the constant changes in Edgewood's architecture, and that their notes represent an attempt to create consistency within the school. Others say that their goal is to prove that the school has no consistency at all.
The archivists can pass through walls and doors and seem only loosely tethered to the reality of the building. They seem to annoy the Administrators, who only comment that "a history of Edgewood is unnecessary, for Edgewood is already a history."
Archivists are rarely seen and no one knows how many there are. Mr. L once hypothesized that there are a near infinite number or archivists spread across a near infinite number of rooms.

The CapuletsEdit

Although every student feared Goneril's physical strength, they also knew that Regan was even more powerful. Her followers, the Capulets, are pretty, well-dressed, and universally envied. It was they who convinced Kevin the Timid to try to climb the weathervane that extended off the high northern terrace, and drove Little Robert to squeeze himself down through the heating ducts into the cellars.
In the aftermath of Disappearance, the Capulets have moved to the upper floors and graduated to something darker than simple manipulation. Many students worry about the strange markings that Capulets leave on the walls, or how they seem to be able to summon flames and ice on command, or the possibility that they've allowed still more malevolent forces than themselves to enter the school.

The Obsolete OperatorEdit

Edgewood students may not use the house elevator under any circumstances. Instead of a control panes, a free-standing mechanical creature waits inside the car and controls its movements. It is unclear whether the elevator's creators installed the operator as well, or if the device somehow sprouted organically from the collection of gears and fan-belts and wires beneath the car. The appearance of new elevator doors in various points of the manor, and attendant cracks and groaning sounds, suggest that the elevator is pushing itself through the house like a root system. Some insist that the muffled rasping coming from the walls is the operator sobbing.

The Frozen FewEdit

Rule breakers in the dining halls used to be rewarded with a stay in the enormous Edgewood freezer. Children shivered next to countless cuts of hornbeast steak and barrels of old milk. Offenders traditionally stayed from noon until the groundskeepers came by in the early evening to unlock the door. Unfortunately, a group was already inside on the day that the Frothy the Dragon burst through the floor of the kitchen, incinerating tables and snapping at the cooking staff. Weeks passed before the groundskeepers managed to drive him away. When they tried to open the freezer, they discovered that the students had sealed themselves in.
Recent attempts to communicate with the Frozen Few, as they are called, suggest that they have taken up strange beliefs and rituals. Their shadows are sometimes visible through the frosted glass. It is possible that they will emerge by choice, perhaps months or years from now, when they run out of food. None of the other students appear cheered by this prospect.

The Quiet ExitEdit

The cowering Woundworts emerged from the remains of their fortress to see Cordy standing over their former leader. They threw down their globes and chairs and erasers to see what the terrible girl would do next. Cordy seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if she were trying to find a memory. Then she pushed quietly through their ranks, walking towards the next flight of stairs.
And here one might think that the Woundworts would be ashamed, and forget their old ways, and pledge to help her on her journey. Unfortunately, being Woundworts, they were more prone to hatred and anger. They swore to avenge Goneril and hunt Cordy up through every floor of the orphanage, or at least as high as they felt comfortable going. The Capulets lived above them, after all, and even Woundworts aren't altogether stupid.

The DisciplinedEdit

Several days after last year's Harrowing Eve Celebration celebtration, the Head of Punishment at Edgewood locked himself in the detention room with a group of the school's most problematic students. Over the course of a week, he coerced them into human re-enactments of classic chess openings on the tiled floor. the obedient ones rose up to become knights and rooks while the less cooperative remained pawns.
Eventually the Administrators ordered the door broken down and the Head of Punishment replaced, as the situation was unfair to students who required punishment but could not access the room. The students involved were never found.

Cyndar's TimekeeperEdit

Rumor has it that an orphan named Cyndar was deposited on the steps of Edgewood alongside a magnificent grandfather clock. Although none of the groundskeepers could get the clock to start, the Administrators declared that it deserved a place of honor at the center of one of the largest halls in the manor.
No one noticed the thin chain that gradually emerged from its front compartment over the years, wrapping itself around desks and tables and extending through the air ducts the linked one room to another. The grandfather clock started at the instant it hooked around Cyndar's foot, dragging him horribly through the house before he was pulled into the machinery. The Administrators deny almost every element of this story, but also refuse to tell students what actually happened to the clock in the main hall.

The Friendly Foot StoolsEdit

Some students claim that they've awoken a cacophony of muffled clacking noises and low shapes moving through the dormitories. While these reports are generally ridiculed or ignored, it is true that the footstools seem to disappear as quickly as the groundskeepers can replace them.
One theory is that the Administrators have devised some kind of hideous creature tasked with enforcing curfews. A minority believe that Regan may be responsible, noting the hundreds of dozens of disjointed snake diagrams that have been observed in her notebooks.This last argument seems far-fetched, given the strict house regulations about attempting to communicate with Edgewood's furniture.

The Trick with the MirrorEdit

Cordy stood over Regan, victorious, and waited to see if the Capulets would appear as the Woundworts had. Instead, an adult figure in a suit emerged from the doorway. He had a face of shifting smoke, and his voice seemed to carry from deep within the house.
"How impressive," he said, "you are the greatest student we have." Cordy didn't see Regan's lips moving as he spoke. He strode towards her. "We would be honored to answer your questions."
As Cordy opened her mouth to answer, the man seemed to shimmer. Then she felt Regan's hand close on her ankle, and a terrible force seemed to drag her backwards. She found herself sealed inside Regan's lunch box as the Capulet leader completed her dying spell. The false Administrator melted into a pool of ink that vanished back into Regan's ruler. And the cheerful girl that walked out of the room looked like Cordy, but prettier and nicer and better, and the Capulet army chose her as their new leader.

The Case of the Walking DeskEdit

"Concerned?" The general chuckled. "Hardly. Robbing a few helpless civilians, that's one thing. That dagger is unique, a gift for the ambassador, and I have a hundred soldiers surrounding the building. We're in a desert, too, if you haven't noticed. We'll see them coming from a mile away."
Shuddering Jim seethed. "Everyone says that," he said, "and they always win! Always! The Bandit always gets the stupid treasure!" He snarled at the ring of the officers standing around them, preening in their khakis and special goggles. "He outsmarts you, he gets inside your head. But I swear to all of you, before this is over, someone is going to get inside his."
Startled, the officers fell silent. Behind them, the Bandit's henchmen slithered by, their camouflage mirroring the sand.
Book Sixteen in the Shuddering Jim Series, p39. Edgewood Library #8240192

The Case of the Flying IceEdit

The Bandit's henchmen filed into the kitchen. They ignored the soup bubbling over the stove, the potato sacks scattered haphazardly about, the broken glass crunching under their feet. The chef with the mustache found himself crowded onto the long chopping counter.
The Bandit's refined voice floated into the room from the hallway. "My dear friend," he said, "I fear that your employ in my household has come to its conclusion." He had almost reached the door. "A recording device in a mutton chop, the one dish I would never eat. Very creative. And I think I know who put you up to it." The Bandit rounded the corner and locked eyes with the chef. Then his mouth opened and his hand flashed to the wall.
Shuddering Jim threw himself from the counter at the same moment the Bandit threw his cleaver. The knife skewed the chef's hat and pinned it to a stove. One of the henchmen made a grab but caught only the fake mustache. Jim's momentum carried him over their surprised arms and through the bay windows, the giant ones that overlooked the sea. The last thing he remembered was the fall.
Book Twenty Three in the Shuddering Jim Series, p151. Edgewood Library #8240192

The Case of the Madman's StewEdit

"Tacks," the museum curator muttered. "They're leaving tacks everywhere." Shuddering Jim winced. No one knew what poison the Bandit's assassins had used, but it was likely to be permanent. The doctors let him continue to clutch Hansel's Dome, the ancient dinosaur skull, the one he had given so much to protect.
"Chalk on your hands," the curator whispered, staring calmly at the skull. "Punish the prisoners. The ones who threw fire." Yesterday, this man had lectured Jim for ten minutes on the pronunciation of Cretaceous. Now his voice went up like a child singing a nursery rhyme.
Jim sighed and walked out. The curator was useless. And Jim was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the laundry cart, the one with two eyeholes cut into the front, wheeling itself towards the curator's room.
Book Twenty Nine in the Shuddering Jim Series, p211. Edgewood Library #8240192

The Case of the Mechanical VendorEdit

Shuddering Jim hung, bound upside down, in the Bandit's trophy room. His head ached from the soporific they'd stuck him with. "It took my henchmen two shots," the Bandit said. "Curious, as they almost never miss. But there you were. Tranquilized in the terrace topiary, if I may.
Jim stared at the lion's head on the wall in front of him. "Oh, I see you've noticed," the Bandit said. "Native to the Tectic Mountains." The nomads who live there refuse to look at the beast after they kill it. They believe that the memory of an enemy can be as dangerous as the enemy itself." He smiled as he left the room. "I'd be curious for your opinion, but I believe my assistants here are eager to speak with you as well."
Him heard the two henchmen step forward, cracking their knuckles. He tried to keep his back to them. The second tranquilizer dart, the one that had deflected off Jim's badge, was still hidden in his shirt pocket.
Book Thirty Six in the Shuddering Jim Series, p232. Edgewood Library #1924832

Chapter 3Edit

A Moment RewrittenEdit

A girl named Cordy awoke under a broken bookcase, confused and scared, having barely survived Goneril and Regan's attack in Mr. L's classroom. Every time a Cordy awoke under the bookcase, of course, the school was different. Edgewood's stability and purpose, however, requires that every student is always the same.
Unlike the others, every Cordy was slightly different. This one had confused memories of terrace bramble and flying ice, of Goneril's followers building fortresses and of Regan floating above the ground. Perhaps certain questions came to her. How long, exactly, had she been asleep? How many times had she awoken? Why would she keep returning here?
An old lesson from Mr. L may have occurred to her. "An interesting question for you to consider," he had said, "is this. Can a memory itself remember? And can it be redeemed?"

On the AdministratorsEdit

Messages from the Administrators can arrive in a variety of ways. Sometimes they wait in envelopes for students when they sit down on meals, or drop down into the classrooms via glass tubes, or crackle directly through the ancient speakers inside the walls of the dorms.
Occasionally students will see groundskeepers carrying brass palanquins with closed curtains up and down the stairs of the manor. Whether or not the Administrators travel within and what they might look like are subjects of constant debate amongst the students. All agree that they live on the restricted floor at the very top of the manor.

The GiftedEdit

On occasion, before the teachers disappeared, a student would arise who seemed powerful or charismatic or intelligent enough to become a rival of Regan or Goneril. Generally these students would suffer from accidents bizarre even by Edgewood standarts, often involving the Forever Crevice in the floor of the southwest cellars. Many, however, simply disappeared.
This led to speculation that the Administrators were creating some kind of program for particularly exceptional children, a loosely knit community of malicious inventors and their hulking machines. The Administrators deny this, and insist that all of Edgewood's students are "exceptional in at least some meaning of the word." Nonetheless, it is difficult to ignore the dust that occasionally falls from the shaking ceilings, or the clanking noises emanating from the upper floors.

Your Caring FriendsEdit

Strange entities appear to have slithered in through enchanted chalkboards and squelched into being on the library shelves. No one knows where they came from, or what they want from the school, but they now control the highest floors of Edgewood.
Students refuse to speak of them directly, and only refer obliquely to the Caring Friends. Instead of saying, "I think I saw Jeremy get grabbed and presumably incinerated by a many handed creature made from ink," students will say, "Jeremy is spending time with his Caring Friends."
The Administrators, generally quite protective of Edgewood's metaphysical integrity, seem unconcerned by the presence of the Caring Friends. Some speculate that the loss of the teachers deprived the Administrators of their primary means of controlling the students and that the Caring Friends were invited in as a sort of replacement.

The VirtuosoEdit

As the Edgewood Home for Lost Children is constantly under renovation, groundskeeping teams on construction projects frequently discover forgotten rooms. On several occasions, they have broken through a collapsed wall to see the music hall, a cavernous space that houses a hulking pipe organ. Each time the hole is hastily resealed with boards and bags of sand. No one knows what would happen if the organ were to begin to play before the gap was closed. It is unlikely that the instrument is harmless, and rumors of a malignant spirit player unfounded.
Several students note that the music hall has been reopened in wildly different sections of the house, evidence that Edgewood runs contrary to certain principles of architecture and reality.

The Terrace EscapeEdit

Cordy stood over Regan, victorious, and waited to see if the Capulets would appear as the Woundworts had. Instead, an adult figure in a fancy suit emerged from the doorway. His face shifted like smoke and he spoke with a refined voice that seemed to carry from deep within the house.
"How impressive." he said, "you truly are the greatest student in Edgewood."
Without knowing why, Cordy ran. She didn't see the false Administrator vanish back into Regan's ruler, and she didn't see the thing that leapt up from the ground next to the fallen Capulet leader. As she climbed the ivy that lined the far wall, however, she felt a fireball explode on the rock next to her. She threw herself over the top and tore across the soft dirt of the terrace.
Cordy ran for what felt like hours. Whatever was behind her moved the way that she did. She could hear it rolling around statues and sprinting between lines of bramble. More fireballs streaked over her head. And when she finally managed to lose it in a room full of spitting moonflowers, she no longer had any idea where she was.

The Winged OverseerEdit

Long talon marks are sometimes visible in the dirt on the terraces, as if a huge bird of some sort had swooped down and snatched something up from the gardens. Shrill hunting cries echo down from above the clouds.
For this reason, students are particularly wary of early evening recreational periods. "More nonsense and rumors," the Administrators say, "and we are increasingly disappointed by your cowardice. Now, a moment of respectful silence for the six students that disappeared during outside time this week."

A Leafy OversightEdit

Edgewood's groundskeepers are responsible for controlling the flora on the terraces and guaranteeing that the recreational areas remain accessible. Nonetheless, a scheduling mishap due to preparations for last year's Fall Frolic resulted in one garden disappearing from the maintenance rotation.
This same garden, however, remained in the planning documents for the Spring Melt Festivities. The first students through the gate were those leading the moonlight lantern parade. The Administrators later commented that,"while the tears of the tragedy always sting, we can at least comfort in the fact that these children were celebrating a season for flowers.

The Brick PileEdit

Students punished with portions of Yesterdayers stew will sometimes smuggle their bowls out to the terrace, where they can discretely pour them out onto an old brick pile.
The terrace ivy has taken to the stew, and the brick pile is covered in overlapping vines.
The Administrators say that the loud cracks coming from the terrace are leftover fireworks from the Summer Merriment, but many students believe that the bricks and ivy are assembling themselves into something terrible. The enormous rectangular footprints that appear in the dirt each morning lend to support to this latter theory.

The Malady WardEdit

Students who become ill during classes can visit the Malady Ward. Here a team of doctors supposedly works day and night caring for residents of the manor.  No student in memory has been admitted for treatment. A cob-webbed sign reading 'APOLOGIES WE ARE CURRENTLY FULL' hangs on the door. Piles of burlap dummies fill the waiting room.
The administrators rarely acknowledge complaints about the Malady Ward. "Our students should be grateful for their good health," they say. "and in any event the current patients are almost ready to rejoin the Edgewood community.

Dr. BloodfatherEdit

Dr. Bloodfather was originally responsible for teaching several of Edgewood's chemistry seminars. After a series of mysterious and self-destructive experiments, however, he scarcely resembled a teacher at all. The Administrators turned a deaf ear to early complaints about his underlit classroom, obsession with blood, and omnious name.
The missing student lab assistants were harder to ignore, however, as was the way that his left hand had detached itself from his arm.
The Administrators, weighing the evidence, promoted him to Dean of the Sciences.
Some find is disconcerting that Dr.Bloodfather didn't disappear with the rest of the faculty. Admittedly, his classes generally end less than a month into the semester, once the last student has gone mysteriously absent.

A Blow to the HeadEdit

The Administrator melted into the floor, a moment later whirling papers filled the room. Cordy leapt and rolled, trying to dodge the pages that threatened to envelope her. "What have you done with the teachers?" she asked, shouting to make herself heard over the rustling.
The Administrator's answer seemed to come from the building itself. "The teachers? You dare ask what have WE done with the teachers?" Now books were detaching themselves from the wall. A heavy volume caught Cordy in the shoulder, almost knocking her down.
"We have no idea what happened to them," the voice said. "Something destroyed them and ruined us all. They are similar to us, and with the same responsibility. One task, that they accomplish through kindness, and we accomplish through fear, which is to --"
Cordy didn't hear what the Administrator was going to say, however, because something huge was bouncing towards her. It was a bookcase, catching the wind, and spinning as it came. The last thing she thought before the corner struck her was that it looked familiar.

The Case of the Rising Lunch TrayEdit

"RETURN NOW," the chief's telegram read, "LIEUTENANT TOLD ME CLEANERS FOUND YOU TRAPPED IN BANDIT'S FREEZER." The telegram officer was tucking his office key in the breast pocket of his suit.
"Please," Shuddering Jim said, "I need to send a reply. I'm a detective, and I must write back to my chief. I'll send it myself if I have to."
"You will not. You are a foreign detective, with a foreign chief, which means you have no authority here. The office closed five minutes ago, and I have a train to catch." The telegram officer picked up his briefcase and almost knocked Jim over as he brushed past. "Come back after the weekend and you can send whatever you want."
Jim started as the man disappeared into the fog, then turned back towards the door. The air was clear across the valley, where the lights twinkled in the Bandit's ski chalet. He glanced down at the office key in his palm and considered his options.
Book Forty Seven in the Shuddering Jim Series, p231. Edgewood Library #8293413

The Case of the Burlap PatientsEdit

"We had a lot of scary students," the retired teacher said. "William the Windswept, for instance, was a terror. The Best Friends... three girls, the other's called them that... were even worse. What I can tell you is that the Bandit was one of the weaker children, perpetually anxious, cried a lot. Always a victim."
"He probably fooled you," Shuddering Jim said, looking around the man's cluttered apartment. "He's very cunning."
The teacher shrugged. "Hard to fake getting your shirtsleeves pinned to the wooden rim of a chalkboard with kitchen knives. Especially when I walk in to find the Best Friends casually tossing lit matches at you."
Jim stared him down. "Whatever sympathy you may feel for this criminal, you told us you could help us find him." Behind him, on the roof across the street, four of the Bandit's henchmen took aim.
Book Fifty Two in the Shuddering Jim Series, p75. Edgewood Library #8293413

The Case of the Walking ClothingEdit

"End of the day, I just don't ask questions," the fat henchman said, once he was done putting on the rabbit costume. He looked at the other two waiting in the back of the truck. "He says, jump off that airship, I go put on a parachute. He says, build me one of those electric shock antennas, I go find some cables."
"No one's arguing," the thin henchman said. "Not me. I roped all those horses when we wanted to find that hidden golden city. I'm just saying he's getting weird."
"Yeah, I don't want to know," the fat one said. He looked at the third henchman, the one with the thick mustace. "What about you, buddy? What do you think of the boss? You don't say much, huh?"
Shuddering Jim looked back at him, trying to sound bored. "I keep a low profile," he said.
Book Fifty Four in the Shuddering Jim Series, p311 Edgewood Library #9123183

The Case of the Floating CrabEdit

"Why me?" the magician asked, "Why do you think he'd target me? I only bought the sculpture yesterday. And anyway, you've seen the house, and we're the only ones here." He spread his hands again, and three cards appeared on the table. Shuddering Jim and the chief rolled their eyes at each other. An insect buzzed somewhere overhead." Please, please, you are my guests," the magician said, "Allow me to show you one more trick. It's called the three prisoners."
He gestured to each card in turn. "The strong one, the pretty one, and the quiet one." The lamps on the wall flickered. "Beware the third. She's always the ringleader." He reached to flip the first card, but before he had touched it, a strange thump arose from the far corner of the room.
Turning around, Jim saw that the drawing room behind them was still empty, except for a pair of house flies. They seemed to be moving in perfect unison in the air. "A mirror," he said, "the henchman are using a giant mirror!" He ended the magician's trick prematurely by throwing the table, shattering the reflective glass.
Book Fifty Eight in the Shuddering Jim Series, p299. Edgewood Library #8131768

Chapter 4Edit

A Dissolving SchoolEdit

A girl named Cordy awoke under a broken bookcase, confused and scared, having barely survived Goneril and Regan's attack in Mr. L's classroom. It was strange, because she didn't remember any bookcases in Mr. L's classroom.
The air in the school felt different than before. Cold drafts streamed through the room, as if new cracks had been opened in the walls. She saw a scrap of yellowed paper swoop by, so quickly that it was gone even before she had a chance to focus on it. Then, only for an instant, she saw paper everywhere.
She recalled a voice, erudite and menacing, that had seemed to speak to her while she was asleep. "You have no right," it said, "you're not even you. You're just a reflection of another."

On CaravansEdit

Edgewood's only regular visitors are the weekly supply caravans that deliver potatoes. The driver refuses to enter the gates, forcing the groundskeepers to come just outside the grounds and unload the sacks. The horse always seem to be happier hurrying away from the school than towards it.
Once in every long while, however, a caravan will arrive in the dead of the night, carrying a new student. Children who've seen these deliveries from the windows say that a handful of shadowy figures stand guard while the groundskeepers carry the newcomer inside the walls.
On the day that Cordy, Goneril, and Reagan arrived, there were dozens of such apparitions, forming a closed half circle around the entrance. This is what Cordy has overheard, at least. None of the three have any memory of their former life outside the orphanage, and both Goneril and Reagan insist they came alone.

On MistEdit

Each evening, long swaths of mist drift across what the Administrators refer to as "the countryside." Occasionally it shrouds the building itself, seeping in through the windows and cracks in the wall. The fog is thick enough blot out the far side of a classroom, and students will flee affected areas of the house. Some say that the child who emerges from a foggy hallway is subtly different from the one who entered.
While the Administrators mock this as superstition, the mist clearly changes the landscape as it passes over it. Students like to play memory games where they point out what's different after the fog burns away, meaning which trees and rocks and hills have moved.
Cordy has noticed that her powers of recollection seem far better than those of her peers, but no one ever invites her to play the game.

On ConfusionEdit

Students complain that Edgewood is becoming more bizarre. While one could blame the groundskeepers for the misplaced furniture, the melting beds are more difficult to explain. Perhaps this is just another step in the school's mysterious progression, and the desks growing from flower pots will one day seem as natural as the possessed chalkboards. There is a quiet fear, however, that that the house grows unstable in a fundamental way.
No one is particularly happy about the way some of the floors are mysteriously covered in paper, either.

On Memory RoomsEdit

Some speculate that Edgewood is a conscious entity. According to this interpretation, the Administrators are the mind of the school, making decisions and enacting its will. Occasionally, however, in the throes of a juice box trance, a student philosopher will suggest that Edgewood must also have a soul. Such a student might describe a sepia-toned room, a place there the building can remember itself. Unfortunately, it's difficult for all but the most dedicated theorists to procure enough juice to achieve such a vision. Worse, most can't hold it down long enough to see anything useful.
The archivists might know more, but no one has ever managed to speak with one. Nor is anyone brave or foolish enough to bring these questions to the Administrators themselves.

A Buoyant DoubleEdit

The float walk is the highlight of the Summer Merriment. Throughout the spring, two dozen teams of students are tasked with the stitching together swatches of canvas into random curved patterns.The night before the Merriment begins, blindfolded volunteers have to assemble the various submissions together into a giant balloon.No one knows what the end result will look like until the balloon is inflated and the paraded around the school by the student body.
No one knows how one of the balloons managed to get re-inflated out in the terrace, and no one remembers any of the balloons looking so much like Cordy. Then again, even before the defeat of Goneril and Regan, the house seemed to take a special interest in her.

Better CordyEdit

Better Cordy is like Cordy, except better in every way. It is unclear if she was created by Regan on the terrace or somehow summoned from elsewhere in the manor.
Other students in Edgewood's history have complained of dopplegangers. There was Natheniel T., who saw himself standing in a hallway with his arms crossed. Suzie G, believed that a girl with her face was following her through the dorms. Michael R. claimed that a double had attacked him in the kitchens.
In each case the students became more and more agitated and paranoid, only to smile at breakfast one morning and claim they'd forgotten the whole thing. The Administrators dismiss the phenomenon as "a pinch of student imagination mixed with a gallon of student vanity."

The ImaginariesEdit

Several years ago, a dormitory of Edgewood students began to suffer from what appeared to be a collective nightmare. Multiple children described a dream in which they wandered though a great hall filled with statues of their peers.
While minor details differed, all complained of a terrible sense of foreboding. As the hysteria spread, many begged for transfers to other parts of the building. Further inquiry came to a halt when the dormitory itself, and all of its inhabitants, vanished. The groundskeepers assigned to clean the bunks found only an empty wall where the door had been the day before.
The Administrators referred to this as a "unique, unpredictable, and tragically unavoidable occurrence," and have refused to connect the phenomena to similar dormitory disappearances in the past, or the growing collection of lifelike statues in the library.

The Increasing DangerEdit

Students have noted that some of Edgewood's scarier inhabitants appear to have become even scarier than before. Or course, "Than Before" is a difficult concept given the school's uncomfortable relationship with memory and time, but the fact remains that the unspeakable rumors are becoming unspeakably worse. It is as if these denizens can feel something that the students cannot, something breaking down deep inside the building. Frothy, for instance, is consuming more children than usual, even accounting for seasonal feeding patterns.
The Administrators have been quiet of late, but their reply is not difficult to imagine, given their categorical denial that most of these creatures even exist.

A Hole in the SkyEdit

The Administrator melted into the floor, and a moment later whirling papers fill the room. Cordy leapt and rolled, trying to dodge the pages that threatened to envelope her. "What have you done with the teachers?" she asked, shouting to make herself over the rustling.
The Administrator's answer seemed to come from the building itself. "The teachers? You dare ask what have WE done with the teachers?" Now books were detaching themselves from the wall. A heavy volume caught Cordy in the shoulder, almost knocking her down.
"We have no idea what happened to them," the voice said. "Something destroyed them and ruined us all. They are similar to us, and with the same responsibility. One task, that they accomplish through kindness, and we accomplish through fear, which is to keep you inside!
Cordy threw herself to the ground to dodge a bookcase. After the voice went quiet, all the papers and books drifted to a stop. She looked up to see an elegant wooden staircase unfolding from a trapdoor in the ceiling.

The DiasporaEdit

As the paper creature dissolved around her, Cordy found herself walking back through the library. She was no longer in control of her actions. There was a crowd surging through bookcases towards the staircase, hundreds of Cordys stepping carefully over the scattered books and papers that covered the floor. They streamed in from each of the floors, covered in bramble from the terrace and stained from the kitchens, descending towards the entrance. Not one of them spoke.
As she reached the front door, she could see that they had ripped down the gate. They were spreading across the countryside, more than could have ever possibly fit in the school, and still more behind her.
The voices she heard seemed to be coming from somewhere else. Someone was laughing, in a kind of choking and repetitive way, almost like crying. There was a distant shout, and another voice kept saying. "Hold him," and "Test this," and "It's over," but the laughing person couldn't stop.

The Case of the Frozen FortressEdit

"I'm so glad you came on such short notice;" the archaeologist said. He brushed some dirt form the side of the tomb and smiled through the darkness at the reporters. "We discovered this chamber just a few hours ago. Behind this wall is the Korkor Buffalo... cast from a thousand pounds of molten gold. So valuable, we even have a famous police inspector with us!"
The reporters chuckled and Shuddering Jim felt his knees ache. He'd been in the local papers ever since his fight with the Bandit's henchman at the orchestra, the one where they'd put a tuba on his head. The archaeologist signaled to the teams with the horses. There was a horrible scraping sound as the stone door rose into the air.
"What on earth?" the archaeologist asked, in much smaller voice that carried through the silent cave. He squinted at the picture frame that sat upon an empty, buffalo-sized pedestal. "Who... who is this?"
Shuddering Jim pushed his way forwards and grabbed the photograph. The Bandit's face smirked back at him. Jim raised it over his head to get a better look, then all cameras started going off, and light wasn't such a problem anymore.
Book Eighty Four in the Shuddering Jim Series, p432. Edgewood Library #9452341

The Case of the Eight PalmsEdit

I sense humiliation... and despair," the psychic said. Shuddering Jim looked furiously at the chief. The Cobald Amoire, a spectacular piece of furniture crafted from interlocking gems, was in the evidence room. Everyone knew the Bandit's henchmen would steal it before the end of the week. Someone, though, had convinced the chief that this psychic would be able to anticipate them.
The psychic stared at Jim, and her voice deepened. "You are afraid that your enemy will kill you," she said, "But do not worry. Your enemy has enemies, old ones. At his moment of victory, he will be vulnerable." In the hallway, Jim could hear the lieutenant giggling.
Jim's chair scraped backwards across the floor as he stomped out. "Don't worry about him," the chief said, "The bureau, or whatever it is. The valuable one. How are they going to take it?"
She looked confused. "The sparkling thing?" she asked. "I saw a maintenance worker carrying it into the street a few minutes ago. He passed by that window, the one right behind you."
Book Eighty Seven in the Shuddering Jim Series, p379. Edgewood Library #9452341

The Case of the Arcing ChairEdit

"The Bandit was toying with me on that zeppelin." Shuddering Jim sighed, looking around the chief's office. "Same as during the knife fight on the edge of the waterfall. I'm never close. His henchmen always drop a net on my head, or hit me with a rolling pin."
"They tricked you into walking that trash compactor that one time," the lieutenant said.
"Thank you, Jim said. "And when I go undercover it's no better. Either it turns me out that they're polygraphing all the gardeners, or my mask melts off when the henchmen take me into the sauna, or I'm hiding in a giant birthday cake that the Bandit gives to his lions. Let's not forget whose idea that last one was." The lieutenant shuffled his papers innocently. "The Bandit wins. Every time. Why do we even bother?"
"Maybe, the chief said, "one day, something will happen that no one expects."
Book One Hundred and Seven in the Shuddering Jim Series, p633. Edgewood Library #4018494

The Case of the Pot Handle HelmetEdit

"Reliving childhood pain won't give you peace," the psychologist said, glancing at the fish tanks that lined in the Bandit's office. "I've never seen a brain that so focused against itself. These memories you have... well they're not memories anymore. Nightmares, perhaps."
"How fascinating," the Bandit remarked. "Perhaps I'll hire you as a therapist someday. How is the chemical? You're certain it's finished?"
"It's finished," the psychologist said, handling him a small bottle. "It shocks the brains natural defenses. It makes the mind more vulnerable to itself. You're not planning on... using this on anyone, are you?"
The Bandit glanced at the bottle and smiled. He reached casually into the marble pool at his side and seized one of his prized Dissostichus Antediluvia. With a flick of his wrist the fish was in the psychologist's lap, its venomous teeth burying themselves in the man's arm. Shuddering Jim, hiding in a grouper tank, covered his divining goggles in horror.
Book One Hundred and Thirty Five in the Shuddering Jim Series, p569. Edgewood Library #3987892

The Case of the AdministratorsEdit

"Listen to me carefully," the Bandit said through the phone. "I'll meet you on the ground floor. Bring the chemical." The Bandit's personal scientist reached into the refrigerator, removing the special syringe with the label 'Shuddering Jim'.
"He's already in the building, unarmed, but don't let him see you. And don't let him see the drug either." The scientist slipped the syringe into the breast pocket of his lab coat.
"And get down here. He's on his way now." The scientist hung up the phone and hurried towards the elevators. One of the Bandit's henchmen, a man with a mustache, was waiting there as well. He looked apprehensive.
Book One Hundred and Forty Nine in the Shuddering Jim Series, p678. Edgewood Library #9234144 (damaged, final pages missing)