Carrion Crown, The Haunting of Harrowstone [IC]

[lostsole31]

BACKGROUND

Being an agent for the Pathfinder Society has brought you into contact with amazing people, many of whom you have adventured with in the past. Many years ago, one such worth was Professor Petros Lorrimor, a singular intellect with great skills as a scholar and diviner. In addition to his various expeditions and adventures Prof. Lorrimor lectured as a guest at many prestigious academies throughout the Inner Sea. One such place was the Grand Lodge (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Grand_Lodge) in Absalom (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Absalom), the training academy for the Pathfinder Society (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Pathfinder_Society).

When you were there, you learned many things from Prof. Lorrimor. At that time, your studies were focused on rhetoric, negotiation, and political science, but you happened to sit in on a lecture held by the unassuming man whom everyone respected. Since Pathfinders often find themselves on expeditions to ancient tombs and the like, being able to effectively fight the undead was important to many of the more martially-inclined members. As you sat in on that first seminar, you realized that while you had basic training as a swordsman, you were no true warrior, and undead just aren't creatures you can negotiate with (normally). The feeling that you might be in a situation wherein your most important skills - the puissance of court and conference - are useless when you go off searching for ancient knowledge? That didn't sit well with you.

You managed to catch Professor Lorrirmor and asked him a few tactics for someone who has no real training like himself. He shared with you that he is, by trade, a diviner - a wizard - and knowledge has won the day for him thus far, not brawn. You invited him to dinner, and despite his being a relative celebrity in the world of academia, he accepted. In you he found a kindred spirit - an incredible intellect with great skills in debate as a philosopher. He invited you to the rest of his seminars, even going so far as interceding on your behalf with the faculty to adjust your course of study that you might able to learn more. After this, you corresponded with each other on various matters academic.

Several years later, he contacted the Pathfinder lodge to which you were assigned and asked that you be part of a seagoing expedition to the Mordant Spire (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Mordant_Spire) at the distal end of the Ironbound Archipelago (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Ironbound_Archipelago), in a place called the Steaming Sea (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Steaming_Sea) (next to the Arcadian Ocean (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Arcadian_Ocean)). There was knowledge there he sought, but the local leader of the Mordant Spire elves was loath to part with any secrets, and you were there to try to use your empathic and diplomatic skills for a twofold mission: aid Professor Lorrimor as he needs, and report all activities to the Society, who has had little presence or contact with that area. Of course, things aren't easy, and for want of a nail ... to get the information Professor Lorrimor sought, your group had to perform a quest that would pit you against many ancient horrors. Armed with the knowledge he had given you in the past, the Professor gave you an extreme crash-course into the anatomy and defenses of several undead; you would have decent armchair knowledge, but most of your training would be practical knowledge for combat.
Also on that voyage was a miserable cuss of a young man, a bounty hunter who had sailed out of Magnimar (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Magnimar) with you. He had amassed loss after loss in his trying to get one of several notorious criminals, but each time they were able to out-think him. He had finally caught up with a leader of a Sczarni (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Sczarni) band he was hunting, but was entirely unprepared. Instead of being killed, he was cursed by a powerful gypsy witch that separated him from his soul. Filled with fatalism and ennui, he gave up his pursuits as a bounty hunter and became a mean drunk that got into fight after fight. Where he was not smart, he was cunning, and his former skills a bounty hunter served him from staying too long in any small town's hoose gow. (Though more often than not he was thrown out of town.) He had heard of this expedition and signed on as hired muscle in hopes of striking it rich, die trying, or even - considering the fabled magical power of the Mordant Spire elves (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Mordant_Spire_elves) - finding a way to be given back his soul that he might pass on peacefully when he died instead of being consigned to the deep reaches of the Abyss (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Abyss) where his essence was held prisoner by a demon prince known as Orcus (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Orcus).

He fared little better on the expedition. He accidentally triggered a trap which teleported him away from the party. By the time he was rescued, he had been exposed to strange alchemical processes and energies and was turned into a physical monstrosity of a man. When he was freed, it was discovered by his torturer/re-creator that the process worked too well ... in addition to giving him vastly improved physique, speed, & resiliency, the constant pain of his misshapen body - no longer fit to wear armor - had the interesting property of making his mind unaffected by any magics or supernatural powers. In a great maneuver, he saved Professor Lorrimor from certain death. With his minions defeated, the elven necromancer//alchemist fled into the hills. For once, the young man's skills at tracking his quarry were redeemed. As you and the Professor battled the undead (there were others in the expedition but by now it was merely you three as the others met grisly fates), including former comrades, the bounty hunter had his revenge. Absolutely uncontrollable through magic, and his soulless quality protecting him from negative energies, he strode through the ranks of the wights and up to the necromancer, grabbing him, and with his one hand around his neck, the man struck the evil wizard several times until his head came clear off.

And so it was that in you and Professor Lorrimor, the man in his early 20s - Gedeon Magnus - became fast friends. The mutation also affected the manner in which his body processed alcohol, the fermented agents acting to give him create physical creativity to duplicate the skills of other warriors - but only while he was drunk. After the great party at the court of the king of the Mordant Spire elves, Gedeon's great appetite for fermented drink had him dubbed "Alewalker" by the Professor.


In addition to defeating the threat of the necromancer and learning secrets from his books, the esoteric knowledge Professor Lorrimor sought was granted him in a copied work of three volumes. For your parts in defeating this evil elf, who himself was well on his way to becoming an alchemical lich, the elven king used a ritual with his priests and abjurers and brought forth a ghaele azata that was one of the prime heralds of Desna (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Desna), patron goddess of the elves and Varisians, and One in whom you were nominally trained to worship (lip service for you at the time). Lady Luck (as She is called) gave her blessing to her herald to give to the three of you, to grant great powers of fortune and luck. Professor Lorrimor and you instantly sensed the change, but there is a tragedy in having no soul. Alewalker's soulless nature makes him utterly incapable of receiving divine power from gods or clerics, or being affected by positive or negative energy; it was the mutant process that allowed him to heal at incredible speed where before he could only heal naturally. He would not be Fortune-Blessed as you and Petros. But, he was not to be forgotten. He was given several items: a belt of giant strength and a monk's robe that would make him truly ferocious in combat, as well as two curious items. It was a matching pair of mugs; thrice a day per mug he could change simple water in the tankards to beer, ale, or a cheap wine.

The expedition headed back home and you penned your adventures. It was a fine tale, but it never did make it as one of the chapbooks of the Society so much as a published journal. You were given a wayfinder (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Wayfinder) - an item that acts as a simple compass (non-magical) that also casts light on command, and also is able to house ancient Azlanti artifacts known as ioun stones (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Ioun_stone) so any you might have would not be vulnerable as they orbit one's head. You never did come into contact with an ioun stone, but the humble wayfinder has been invaluable ever since.
From all of your recent studies, and in trying to determine the causes of death of some elves when your quest first began, all of your scholarly knowledge helped only a little. Professor Lorrimor sought out the expertise of healers himself when there were medical questions to be answered. In addition, the aspects of Alewalker's alchemical mutations and more supernatural studies of death-to-undeath opened in you desire for a new field of knowledge. To that end, Professor Lorrimor recommended the University of Lepidstadt (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/University_of_Lepidstadt) to undergo coursework in the "mortal" sciences of medicine, mathematics, and science, to be trained as an investigator (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Investigator). The thought of spending several more years in a classroom seemed a nice break for your scholarly mind, and Professor Lorrimor sent a letter of recommendation with you to Dean Acciani Viacarri (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Acciani_Viacarri). There, you gained even greater grounding in the fields of history, philosophy, theology, alchemy, medicine, the sciences, and mathematics. You graduated in only two years as an investigator with an emphasis in thanatology (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thanatology). It was through these studies that your worship definitely changed in short order to that of Pharasma (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Pharasma).

But Alewalker had neither inclination nor intellect for such training, and it was then that the two of you parted ways. You each heard of the other's exploits in the intervening years. You became a renowned investigator of the undead as well as ever continuing your training as a negotiator. He had some difficulties because of his obvious deformations. He held jobs as a bouncer, even as a brewer, a prize fighter, but in the end he made his way back to his original roots as a bounty hunter and developed a mixed fame and infamy both as a pit fighter and a manhunter. You only know of this because as the years passed and the once middle-aged Professor crept into old age, he would correspond with both of you separately, and he would fondly pass news of each of your doing. Even the young man in his 20s was now in his early 30s. The last you heard of Alewalker, he had joined a dragon-hunting party in the Mindspin Mountains (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Mindspin_Mountains) and had never been heard from since. That was over two years ago. Ever skilled at getting news, it is said that Alewalker's group passed through the lawless city of Kaer Maga (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Kaer_Maga) but never returned. The only ominous sense of his fate was the riderless horse of the cavalier that led the expedition; the horse's barding, blanket, and saddle had gouts of blood spilt on it.
Your mother died in these past two years, and your grief-stricken father abdicated his title (he married into human nobility) and returned to the elven kingdom of Kyonin (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Kyonin). You effectively retired and seamlessly took over as the Baron of Ifearnán to oversee your lands and estate. But it was not an easy go all the time. Your lands were plagued by the powerful green hag (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Green_hag) witch (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Witch) Mab Cuirhan and her two sisters. Several of your men were either charmed or killed by the coven and your skills and knowledge weren't enough to see through the illusions they used to hide their activities. You sent for help, and it came in the form of a strikingly beautiful, though decidedly exotic, redheaded woman that you initially took to be a fey-touched Varisian. It turned out she was actually a changeling (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Changeling), the product of a human father and a hag mother, and she shunned the evil natures of her kin. Through her wisdom and ability to converse with spirits, and even to allow herself to be possessed by powerful spirits and ancestors of old, her psychic (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Psychic) powers shone the light that burned away the coven's illusory defenses. You and this woman, Viola Schmitt - with the help of her otherworldly cath sidhe (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Silvanshee), Slavica - defeated the coven and made your lands safe again.

During this time, you felt the call of adventure that re-invigorated you, and found a capable servant in Viola who stayed on with your in your court. You have a capable castellan to look after things when you are away on business, but for the most part you have kept to your lands in northern Ustalav (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Ustalav). Though technically you live in the democratic areas of northern Ustalav known as the Palatinates (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Palatinates) (County Vieland (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Vieland)) and the aristocracy was (on paper) rescinded, many of the wealthier, progressive aristocrats such as yourself were able to keep your titles as a function of respect, and your lands much as any other wealthy plantation owner that sees to the interests of his employees. Otherwise, you are more politician and statesman than you are formally a "noble."

[lostsole31]

Now, it happens that Professor Lorrimor, who is the emeritus Professor of Philosophy at the University of Lepidstadt (retired for 15 years now), lives in the neighboring Palatine county of Canterwall. It also happens that Ifearnán is in County Vieland ... the very county that hosts your alma mater. Considering you and the Professor are effectively retired from adventuring, he is your next-county neighbor. You never did quite get to visit the old man, depending on letters for correspondence, but otherwise focusing on the business of your lands. Of course, you knew you wanted to take advantage of his open invitation to his home even if just to have great discourse. So it saddens you greatly that you will never get the chance. A letter had come to you from Kendra Lorrimor, his daughter. It seems that her father died of an accident just outside their home town of Ravengro. :frown:

The letter requests you come to Ravengro as soon as possible to attend the funeral of the late Professor Petros Lorrimor. Afterwards, there will be a reading of the will, and it seems that you are one of the beneficiaries. Also, the option to attend the honor of being a pall-bearer is given you, should you so choose.

Lord Damon, you are physically weak. Do you wish to be a pall-bearer anyway, and hope on the other 3-5 pall-bearers? Also, will you be bringing Viola along with you? If so, do you offer her services as a pall-bearer (alone or as well)? She is neither strong nor weak, being about average for a commoner.

[BuckGodot]

I will respond via letter that I will leave immediately and with all due haste. It would be an honour to be a pall-bearer, however, I must decline. I will be arriving accompanied by an assistant who could stand in my place, if it is allowed.

Dispatching that note first thing, I will have the household begin preparations for my departure, forthwith.

[lostsole31]

You make the trip to Ravengro and on to the funeral ... opening scene ...
You make it to Ravengro the day of the funeral, gathered at the entrance to the Restlands with Kendra Lorrimor and a fine coffin containing the body of her father (preserved with gentle repose), your onetime friend and ally Petros Lorrimor. Including your servant, there are five persons acting as pallbearers for his coffin. As you have just arrived, you’re outfitted with weapons, armor, and your starting gear.

Father Grimburrow and a pair of gravediggers are already waiting at the site of the professor’s burial—as part of local tradition, they do not accompany the pallbearers from the gate to the grave. Besides you and Viola, Kendra Lorrimor, Father Grimburrow, and the two gravediggers, there are only a small handful of villagers attending the funeral procession. Old friends of Lorrimor, they too have come to pay their respects. All of these NPCs are somber and have little to say to you at this time.

Once the pallbearers have been chosen, Kendra, as the deceased’s closest living relative, has the job of leading the somber procession along the Dreamwake—a gravel pathway that winds through the cemetery.

As the procession reaches the halfway point along the Dreamwake, rounding a corner onto a path called the Eversleep, they’ll see that the way ahead is blocked by a group of a dozen surly looking locals. The tallest of these toughs is an elderly but wiry retired soldier. He speaks out as soon as the group is noticed—

"That's far enough. We been talking, and we don't want Lorrimor buried in the Restlands. You can take him upriver and bury him there if you want, but he ain't goin' in the ground here!"

[BuckGodot]

For now, he will stand fast and see how Kendra wishes to proceed, but will begin to surreptisiously move nearer her to the front.

[lostsole31]

Kendra is swift to respond, her sadness swiftly transforming into anger. “What are you talking about?” she cries out. “I arranged it with Father Grimburrow. He’s waiting for us! The grave’s already been...”

“You don’t get it, woman. We won’t have a necromancer buried in the same place as our kin. I suggest you move out while you still can. Folks are pretty upset about this right now.”

“Necromancy!? Are you really that ignorant?” shouts Kendra.

Begin Round One ...

R1T21: "Friends," says a late middle-aged pall-bearer, "let us put down this coffin that we do not upset our dear departed." He readies himself to lower the coffin gently.

R1T20: "Upset the necromancer's matchbox?" says a man. He moves forward to smack the same older gentleman with his rake. It's a clumsy attempt, and the man isn't actually trying to cause injury (he's taking a penalty to do nonlethal [NL]) damage).

R1T19: A hunch-backed pallbearer in tattered, full body cloak quickly releases the coffin bar and places his hand underneath the center of the coffin, pulls it out of everyone's hand by lifting it up, supports it, and sets it gently down to the side.

R1T18: No longer needing to wait for everyone, the relatively dumb-founded older man collects himself after witnessing that feat of strength and he defensively casts a spell upon himself.
First of all, the man channeled divine energy through a silver holy symbol of Torag that hangs around his neck. Feel free to read the entire page's description, your K:Religion was good enough. Now, even though Torag (http://pathfinderwiki.com/wiki/Torag) is the patron of the dwarves, many humans (and very few other races) will say a prayer to Torag for general protection, smiths to focus themselves in their craft, and military leaders to bless their strategies. However, it is rare (though you've heard of it) that a non-dwarf might actually choose to worship the Father of Dwarvenkind. However, you have never heard of the Soulforger ever offering divine power to any non-dwarf!! If nothing else, this might be excellent scholarly inquiry. But then, you do remember a story you heard of a miracle worker - a human venerating Torag by the name of Saint Dorn the Protector. A man who was raised by dwarves but once out in the world as an older man he already was possessed of miracles.

The spell he cast was a simple mobility spell called expeditious retreat (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/e/expeditious-retreat). This is a picture of him ...

https://sites.google.com/a/pathfindercommunity.net/home/_/rsrc/1375747232627/images/Dorn.jpg?height=400&width=225&width=309
R1T17: Viola uses a shaman spell (spirit call) to gather her energies. The problem is that her spirit spells are all fire-related! Fire, a notoriously deadly thing, and one in which she is particularly powerful, given her pyrophile heritage from her mother (an ash hag).

R1T16-14: A man steps forth with a sickle and tries to cut Viola along a limb for nonlethal damage, but his sickle is turned aside by some power (which you know to be the deflection from her ring of protection). Another man, seeing the older man casting spells, rushes to clobber St. Dorn with a hammer and clobbers the saint in the left knee with what has to be a crit, and yet it seems that the elder manages to weather the blow so he only takes 6 mod NL. As with his fellow, a fourth commoner comes at Viola with his hoe and swings wildly.

R1T13: "Stop it! This is madness!" shouts Kendra, but for that she still casts mage armor on herself to be prepared.

R1T11: One of the pall-bearers in a sumptious full cape and hood throws off her hood. She is an incredibly beautiful woman wearing a sumptious, purple dress - fit for a formal event, not a brawl or a funeral. "Peasants with pitchforks? Kind of droll, don't you think?" she says, drawing her rapier as she charges forward to the man with the hoe attacking Viola. She has the good sense not to try to hurt him, and clangs her sword against her opponent's gardening implement a few times - perhaps giving the man a chance to think about the trouble he's in.http://i1357.photobucket.com/albums/q755/lostsole31/Gaye%20Koacutebor_zps4pfaeaed.png
R1T9: The actual farmer with the pitchfork seems to take that as an invitation and he charges her. Even with trying not to cause real injury, the exotic woman was a little too committed to the offense on her charge and only barely deflects the pitchfork.

R1T6: The last of the pall-bearers is a savage woman, likely a Kellid, who carries a ridiculously oversized bastard sword - one that was made for a giant, not her.

"To attack a funeral procession with weapons is honorless and an insult to Professor Lorrimor!!" she seethes. She charges the man with the pitchfork while getting out her own sword. Unlike the others of both sides, she is playing for keeps as she brings her sword down on the man with the pitchfork to cut him deep in the left knee for 17, and the man drops unconscious and bleeds profusely.http://pathfinderwiki.com/mediawiki/images/thumb/0/0b/Amiri.jpg/507px-Amiri.jpg
R1T5: Éibhir, of the mob of people (there's a whole group of them with makeshift weapons and the like), five burly guys engaged. Viola is facing off against two, one of whom is also being pressed by the woman in the deep purple dress. St. Dorn has two opponents of his own. None of these men are trying to cause real injury. There is a fifth man that was dropped by the Kellid woman with the massive sword, having suffered a real and mortal wound. You are smart enough to realize that the time for Diplomacy is past. What do you do?

[BuckGodot]

Drawing his rapier while moving towards the nearest foe, he swings, attempting to disable... Shouting ::Stand down, you fools! This is no time for petty fighting!::

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[lostsole31]

R1T5: Drawing his rapier while moving towards the nearest foe, Éibhir swings, attempting to disable the man with the rake attacking Dorn. He nails him in the gut for 6 NL, making the man double over but not quite fall; still, he seems as woozy as Dorn. (You attacked the one with the rake that is fighting the saint.) Éibhir shouts, "Fly, you fools!" ... "Run, you fools!" ... "Stand down, you fools! This is no time for petty fighting!"

R1T4: Seeing another one of his neighbors get hit by a stranger, yet another rake-wielder comes charging out of the mob towards Éibhir, slamming the half-elf's right shin for a whopping crit of 15 NL!

End Round One, Begin Round 2 ...

R2T20: The one Éibhir struck turns tail to run, but Dorn clips him in his left elbow for 11 NL (max), dropping him unconscious from the pain.

R2T19: The hunch-backed pallbearer strolls forth to the first fallen man and picks up the pitchfork.

R2T18: Despite being weighed down by a heavy pack and a big bruise on his knee, the spry Saint manages to duck around combatants to get to the far side of the man with the ravaged knee. He doesn't check to see if he is alive or dead, but casts stabilize on him. This leaves Éibhir relatively alone with the farmer with the hammer.

R2T17: Viola holsd her ground and begins to cast a spell defensively ... You know that the only kind of spells that take more than a round are summoning spells, and you know that through the spirits of flame she is able to conjure forth an 8-foot-tall fire elemental!

R2T16-14: Several men make failed attacks.

R2T13: "No!" cries Kendra. "Don't bring forth such a creature, shaman! Don't kill anyone!"

For her part, Kendra casts acid splash that jumps forth to hit the man with the hoe threatening the purple-clad woman and Viola, trying to aim it so as not to seriously harm the man. It's a brilliant shot that hits him in his right tricep for 11 NL, but does actually injure him by doing 2 DEX damage as well. The main screams in pain and slumps to the ground, unconscious.

R2T11: "Inspired shot!" calls the woman in purple, possessed of a beautiful voice. She steps over to the man with the sickle and cracks him in his elbow for 3 NL (min), causing him to hiss with pain.

R2T6: Kendra's cry must not have fallen on deaf ears, for the savage woman stalks around the battle and over to Éibhir to try to attack his opponent non-lethally. The weapon is clumsy and she is fighting in an unfamiliar matter and the man just barely manages to clang her massive sword aside with his hammer.

R2T5: Éibhir, what do you do?

Your opponent is on deck, the lone hunchback is in the hole ...

[BuckGodot]

Did you not hear me? You are vastly outclassed! STAND DOWN!!! and he again lunges with his rapier this time, swiftly raining two blows on his attacker in a further attempt to subdue him.

Attack 1: [roll0]
Damage 1: [roll1]

Attack 2: [roll2]

Damage 2: [roll3]

[lostsole31]

R2T5: "Did you not hear me? You are vastly outclassed! STAND DOWN!!!" and Éibhir again lunges with his rapier this time, swiftly raining two blows on his attacker in a further attempt to subdue him, the first slamming his pommel down into the man's right foot for 6 NL. The man howls in pain and hops on his foot as Éibhir than punches him in the face with the rapier's guard, dropping the man out cold.

The crowd, which had started goading their town "champions," start to diminish from their growing cheers to a more disappointed mutter.

R2T4: Too into the fight and not paying attention to how outclassed he is, tries to strike the half-elf but Lord Damon is easily parries.

End Round 2, Begin Round 3 ...

R3T19: The hunchback goes over to the farmer with the sickle threatening Viola and the purple-clad woman, standing behind the man. He thunks him on the back of the head and the man drops like a sack of barley.

R3T18: Taking this cue and doing something similar, old Dorn steps up behind the man fighting you and swings his hammer, but the man just realized he's all alone and he jumps out of the way like a jackrabbit.

R3T17: Viola stops casting her summons ... so now towering inferno today. Given how badly that man was just hit in the head, she stoops down to tend to him and then breathes a sigh of relief.

R3T13: Kendra doesn't do anything .... there's only one farmer-thug remaining, and he is being mobbed.

R3T11: The woman in purple, without an opponent, likewise starts to check the fallen to make sure they aren't actually injured.

R3T6: The Kellid woman continues her assault, but is too clumsy.

R3T5: Éibhir, just this guy now ... and the Kellid woman to his left, and the hunchback behind him (flanking with you). What do you do?

Last farmer on deck, hunchback in the hole ...

[BuckGodot]

Carefully pointing his rapier at the final assailant and using his considerable skills of persuasion, he says My friend, you are the last man standing and surrounded. Please think carefully about your next actions. I suggest you yield to the superior force. We do not wish further blood be shed on this day and there are wounded that need tending.

[lostsole31]

The man drops his hammer and turns to run, only to get clotheslined by the hunchback standing behind him. His head hits a thick arm, bends back as his overall momentum continues forward, and he does a limp, backwards somersault while moving forward. You now are able to get a look right up into the cowl and you see a somewhat familiar sight .... Alewalker. I say, somewhat familiar because while he is shadowed underneath his hood there seems to be something different.

Kendra thanks the group of you profusely and apologizes for the assault. The attending councilors - who are named by the leader among them - are the few others attending. They profess shock at the attack and indicate that they recognize the thugs as "local farmhands, all of low character." Their stance is that the beating the group of you administered to the thugs is punishment enough, and that suits Kendra just fine. Tensions are already high, and she doesn't want to seem vindictive to the rest of the townfolk.

Besides the two acolytes, the two gravediggers, Kendra Lorrrimor, and you and the pallbearers, these are the others in attendance.
https://s.yimg.com/fz/api/res/1.2/MyHJslaJ69oDehVPoD47yQ--/YXBwaWQ9c3JjaGRkO2g9MjU2O3E9OTU7dz0yNTY-/http://cdn.obsidianportal.com/images/464524/s640x480.jpg
http://cdn.obsidianportal.com/assets/39848/councilman_Hearthmount.jpg
http://cdn.obsidianportal.com/images/689136/Muricar.jpg
http://dfry.warpmail.net/HH/Zokar%20Elkarid.jpg
http://cdn.obsidianportal.com/images/690246/Jominda_Fallenbridge.jpg
With that, all of these people are somber and have little more to say. The assault now past, the procession continues up to the old plot Kendra purchased for her father. No further complications prevent the lowering of his coffin into the open grave by the gravediggers. Father Grimburrow gives a short sermon, then invites Kendra to say a few words about her father. Kendra fights back tears and briefly recounts a few of her father's more courageous or selfless moments, thanking everyone once again for coming. She then invites anyone else to share a few stories or remembrances.

Ebby, do you go to say anything?

[BuckGodot]

He will eloquently recount his first meeting with the Professor and briefly touch on their travels together with fondness.

[lostsole31]

Lord Éibhir Damon of Ifearnán ... you bring nearly everyone there to tears. Except the one that wears Alewalker's wrecked face under the cowl. He stares off into the distance, impassively, lost in reverie and perhaps remembrance, but even as an empath you cannot tell. Your words impress the influential townspersons.

After the funeral is over and Kendra has said her goodbyes to the other guests, she invites you and the others that served as pallbearers back to her home (so recently her father’s) for a drink and to hear his last will and testament. The Lorrimor residence is a modest home with crowded bookshelves in every room. The reading of the professor’s will requires the presence of Councilman Vashian Hearthmount (the closest thing Ravengro has to a solicitor), and he has some other matters to attend to after the funeral, so he doesn’t arrive for about an hour.

This is a great time for you to introduce yourself, describe yourself (even as a solo game, I like to see how you describe yourself) and to describe anything you might want to add beyond the general wash that you hadn't already at the funeral. As a person of your stature, Kendra defers to you to begin, anyway.

[BuckGodot]

On the trip back to the house, he will slide alongside his old adventuring companion.

It has been awhile, my friend. I look forward to the chance to hear your tales of adventure when we have a suitable amount of time to sit and talk.

[lostsole31]

He says .... nothing. He doesn't even tip his head or look your way when you speak to him, or afterwards. In fact, he is entirely self-absorbed and yet maintains this thousand-yard stare.

At the house .... introduction/ description?

[BuckGodot]

As Éibhir steps into the room, one is immediately taken aback by his presence. Not only is he stunningly handsome with strawberry blonde hair of collar length and flashing emerald green eyes, in addition, he seems to simply dominate the room. He moves with ease and grace and when one catches his eye, you can see a deep intellect behind them. They are always moving, observing, and taking in the minutia of the room and all within it. Wearing fine clothing indicative of his noble birth, a cloak draped across his shoulders and a finely crafted rapier, which he wears with the ease and familiarity of one well versed in it's use. His hair does not quite cover the tips of his ears, which draw to a point, giving away his half-elven bloodline.

He crosses to Kendra, taking her hand with a slight bow, says Please allow me to express my deepest condolences. I'm sure that the loss we feel pales in comparison to yours.

[lostsole31]

"Thank you," says Kendra. "And you all acquitted yourself bravely in the defense of my father. Ladies, and gentlemen, to introduce to you again is Lord Éibhir Damon, formerly the Baron of Ifearnán; still of that land and estate, but as with us here in County Canterwall, the nobility was banned. In his home county of Vieland, the nobles there actually stepped down as a ruling body unlike here in old County Tamrivena. I understand he was only a boy at that time. But the family Damon was so well respected, much like the Caromarcs, that the term 'Baron' is a title of honor, even if not one of actual political power."

For herself, Kendra is a 25-year-old woman with puffy red eyes and dressed in dark, conservative clothes. She is filled with a picture of curiosity, sadness, and relief. At the funeral she was distraught for no one else had come to pay their respects to her father, and "with things the way they are in town these days," very few folks had come out from Ravengro, either.https://s.yimg.com/fz/api/res/1.2/CBVrSMC2B6TM7m1i5DgoJw--/YXBwaWQ9c3JjaGRkO2g9OTM4O3E9OTU7dz00Mjc-/http://cdn.obsidianportal.com/assets/52609/Kendra_Lorrimor.jpg

[lostsole31]

SAINT DORN THE PROTECTOR

The older gentleman stands up. "My name is Dorn the Protector. I was raised in a small dwarven conclave after my parents, who had been visiting the dwarves for reasons of trade, were visciously murdered by a crazed dwarven mage. My foster parents instilled in me the glory and justice of Torag, and I swore that once I grew to the age of dwarven adulthood - which a few months ago I did when I turned 50 - I would travel the world and help those in need of Torag's protection and justice. During my studies as a younger acolyte, I had the good fortune to have a younger Professo Lorrimor speak at a nearby university. We sent a delegation, and when he heard of my background he sought me out afterwards. He was my tutor and mentor for a few years as I studied more practical aspects of divine theory, philosophy, and the understanding and hunting of foul dabblers of the necromantic arts and their creations. My hammer - this hammer - is as much a tool of peace for me as it is for violence, and I excel at convincing would-be foes that they'd be best served praying for forgiveness from Torag than fighting me."

Dorn is 5'8", and weighs a trim 173 lbs. His head is balding, and the hair remaining on his head and that of his eyebrows and beard are a salt-and-pepper gray-white. The beard is kept relatively trim, but his hair is straight and fine, hanging down around his shoulders. His eyes are hazel. Tattooed right on his high foreheard is the iron hammer symbol of Torag.http://pathfinderwiki.com/mediawiki/images/thumb/d/d3/Torag_holy_symbol.jpg/375px-Torag_holy_symbol.jpg

He wears studded leather for protection, though his a actual clothing is that of a scholar. At his side are a heavy crossbow with a case of bolts. He spoke with his warhammer in his hands for effect. He had put down a full backpack and bedroll that was slowing him down some during the battle. He seems quite hale like a seasoned warrior of his faith, but even with light armor the bulk of his equipment limits him some.
https://sites.google.com/a/pathfindercommunity.net/home/_/rsrc/1375747232627/images/Dorn.jpg?height=400&width=225&width=309

[lostsole31]

GAYE KÓBOR (http://forvo.com/word/k%C3%B3bor/) (pronunciation hyperlink for last name)

The attractive woman in the purple steps forward. She has a sultry and playful air about her, mixed with an entirely, uncontained sensuality. Her dress is fashionable and beautiful, and teases at conservatism with its full-length, full skirt and sleeves going right out to her cyan gloves. Her hair is obviously died the same base of purple and given frosting and some tips the same cyan as the trimming color on her dress. Of course, the conservatism ends with the plunging neckline and wide cut that shows her paired blessing. She is not necessarily the most beautiful woman you've ever met, but she is attractive enough and more than makes up for it. She is a little taller than average (5'9") and a mixture of athletic-voluptuous that probably brings her in at about 135 lbs (worn quite well). Her Varisian eyes are gray, which tends to work with her pale skin ... her very pale skin. In fact, a second look at her almost luminous gray eyes and the unearthly pallor of her skin - looking like beautiful alabaster on her, not sickly - and Éibhir realizes that she is not actually truly human at all, but rather a dhampir - the progeny of a vampire male father and a human mother. Dhampirs are not unknown in the Immortal Principality of Ustalav, but whereas one might hide because of that birth, she wears the combination of her dhampir and obviously more gypsy-overtoned Varisian heritages quite fully and seamlessly, which only adds to her exoticism.

A better look will also note that her dress is cinched against something else underneath and part of the corset is likewise thickened - studded leather. In fact, the many buttons and fasteners - as many decorative as functional - look to be something to help protect her, though it does restrict her movement a little, but no more than a corset normally might. Of course, add in the fact she has rings, bracelets, earrings, and various other nice jewelry. She does have a tall shawl and hood (the latter was not drawn) for the cold weather, though you as she takes that off indoors not only do you see the rapier in its scabbard, but at along her back is a main gauche. Still, she likewise had a backpack of gear that she has since put down. (Though she is younger and more vigorous than the older Dorn, and therefore not encumbered by her gear. Then again, since your excellent knowledge of humanoids includes those touched by the undead, you remember that dhampir don't really reach full maturity until after they reach just over a hundred years old! Easily making her well over twice Dorn's age!)

http://i1357.photobucket.com/albums/q755/lostsole31/Gaye%20Koacutebor_zps4pfaeaed.png

With a flourish and a curtseying bow, she slowly lifts back up - definitely theatrically trained, this one. She seems to make no desire to thin her pronounced Varisian accent. Nay, indeed, she manages to cut out some of the more guttural Ustalavic form of it and speak more with the lilting, sing-songy nature of her mother tongue, definitely using the accent for affect than out of need. "I am Gaye Kóbor, and happy I am to meet you, despite such unhappy times. Though I only knew your father in passing, Miss Lorrimor, I must say my ... studies ... when I was at the Opera in Kacau many years ago were quite .... stimulating." She is sure to leave those ever-so-slight pauses there so that one may draw conclusions ... if, in fact, there are any to be drawn.

"Was Professor Lorrimor a musician as well?" asks Dorn.

Gaye gives a wry smile and lets that question hang just a second. "Nooo, padre. Let's just say that if passion inspires art, well, my career flourished."

Kendra gives a slight gulp and a blush of light embarrassment.

"Still, we met by accident again many years ago," she continues to speak in her ringing voice, "and I had grown bored with some of my studies. He ended my boredom, expanded my horizons, and helped me understand a little of my own purpose."

"And what ..." starts Dorn uneasily, "... would that 'purpose' be?"

"Why, Saint ... Dorn," she answers coquettishly, "to bring light and life back into the world left gray by boring, pedantic, old conservatives." :smallwink::smallbiggrin::smallcool:

Dorn does not frown or turn dour, but his face does go from relatively friendly to passive and guarded.

[lostsole31]

AMIRI

The Kellid barbarian woman simply says with the typical Kellid-infused clip in her Taldane, "Professor Lorrimor saved my life. I told him anytime I could ever repay him, I would. I failed to pay my debt of honor. I don't know why I'm here. My name is Amiri."

Amiri is 5'9", and 160 lbs of lean muscle. She could be considered attractive, but her muscles might throw a lot of men off (if not intimidate them). She dresses in hide armor, carries the same oversized bastard sword mentioned before, as well as a shortbow and quiver, a handaxe, and a couple of hunting knives. She has a simpler pack, but also filled with gear. Even with her hide armor she seems to move as quickly as you. She says nothing else, and there's nothing else to quite draw from her at this time.
http://pathfinderwiki.com/mediawiki/images/thumb/0/0b/Amiri.jpg/507px-Amiri.jpg

[lostsole31]

ALEWALKER

The hunchback is very passive, to the point of being unnerving. He pulls back the hood, which might seem like the beginning of an introduction to a less perceptive man. But you sense that his action has absolutely nothing to do with being more sociable. No, functional. Attached by lanyard on his belt is one of the fabulous mugs he was given in the Mordant Court by the gray elves. Though this mug is chipped and has seen better days. He used to close his eyes to concentrate but now - with his eyes wide open and without hint that he's making a mental command - the top of his mug now has a head of foam on it. The hood was moved just so he could chug the contents without any fabric getting in the way.

Time has been unkind, and throws into relief your slower aging as a half-elf. You say he'd be 32 by now, though he looks haggard and well into middle-age. If he were able to stand up fully straight, he'd be about 6' 3". The extra musculature from his mutation, and the large patches of thickened skin here and there, and perhaps poor diet of starchy foods and too much grain-based drink puts him at 260 lbs. of powerful muscle, though not necessarily flattering. He had russet hair when he was younger, but now he is balding and his hair is rust-gray. And the balding isn't all from simply going bald. Some patches of thickened skin might account for it, but his entire left side of his face and head included has a massive scar. Not completely through like a burn, but rather as if he suffered some incredibly large and grievous wound which left its mark even with the alchemically-enhanced healing he used to have.

His signature equipment is still there - his belt of strength, gloves, both mugs, both rings, even the robe itself - but even with magic (if they still have their enchantment) they all look well-used, worn, beaten, or otherwise in a terrible state. The monk's robe looks more like something you would see on a begging mendicant rather than a simple monk.

But for all of this, what most catches your eye are his eyes. He had hazel eyes before. He was never a handsome man to begin with, but with alcoholism his eyes took on a more olive quality. They are a mud green, and vaguely rheumy. Yet even with the mild cloudiness there is a limpid, empty quality. It is at once "eye-catching" and terrifying for they seem to be truly devoid of any animating spark.

"People call me Alewalker. This Lorrimor fellow sent me a letter and told me I would have something in a will. Said something about saving his life. I don't know him - it was probably something I did on a drunken dare. But if there's a will involved, I could use the payday."

His words are shocking to everyone, not the least of whom is Kendra who gasps and holds her hand to her mouth and turns away, tearing a little.

"Have some respect, man!" protests Dorn.

Alewalker shrugs. "Offence freely given but never offered," he says off-handedly, nonplussed by Dorn, nor really looking at his direction. This latter isn't the sense of a man who can't bear to look at someone pointing out there shame, but that of someone who truly doesn't care and can't be bothered. "We are born; we live; we die. We do things in our lives, and things are done to us. If some dead guy I don't remember says he wants to name me in a will, fine. Carrying his box is the price of admission. If I saved his life? Who cares if I do or don't remember. He does. If there's coin involved, or a way to make it, that's good enough for me."

[BuckGodot]

Éibhir will scrutinize Alewalker more closely, while frowning slightly...

[lostsole31]

Alewalker, impassive, seems to notice you staring at him. He slowly turns his head to face you squarely. "You used words too familiar with me on the path here, half-elf, as if you think you know me. Staring rarely gets you what you want. Here, tell me what you see, and no me better by it ... and perhaps yourself."

It is as if the veil of cloud on his eyes are parted, and yet they don't physically change. Rather, somehow you are drawn deeper into the emptiness within as if to face the empty, infinite void beyond death. You have faced worse in the horrors that have returned from death so you aren't thrown too of course, but that doesn't mean it isn't damn unnerving. A weaker mind would probably waver in their will to survive.

Sensing something is off, Viola stands up quickly and says, "Well, I guess that leaves me!"

The sudden outer stimulus snaps you out of whatever reverie you were drawn into, and Alewalker's seem as blank and impassive - yet unremarkable for all that - as they were a few minutes ago.

[lostsole31]

VIOLA SCHMITT

When the tiny woman got up with a start, her gray muff yowled and launched off with equal surprise for she was warming her hands on her lap using her cat, Slavica.

"I don't want to seem out of place, but for the sake of courtesy ... I am Viola Schmitt, aide-de-camp and counselor to my Lord Éibhir Damon, Baron of Ifearnán."

The sudden movement over - which you guess was calculated on her part for your sake for she sensed something - her demeanor becomes more natural. She seems every bit the spooky gypsy witch, but with her youth comes beauty. Her exotic beauty is natural, unlike Gaye's cultivated look. Quite short, she stands only 4'9"and only because of her heritage she weighs 123 lbs, though she doesn't look it. She has deep, olive-covered skin. She has flowing red hair with multiple plaits and braids that go down to her lower back, and her eyes are of two different colors: her right is gray, and her left eye is yellow. Strange coloring, and it might be the only off-putting thing about her. Her clothes are another matter.

She might be an adviser, but she is also your bodyguard, something easily overlooked in so small and lithe a body. She has gleaming breastplate that is worn over her courtier's clothing, and over that is a half-tabard with your family colors and coat-of-arms. She has no weapons, until one sees the a giveaway to her changeling heritage more concrete than her heterochromatic eyes: her claws. Strong, sharp, and a natural red-to-yellow - yellow near the inner finger, darkening to flame red and then dark red at the tips. She openly carries her Pathfinder Society wayfinder about her neck (unless you have standing orders not to). Her magical belt of agility (no one else knows this, of course) doubles as her Varisian kapenia, an intricate and colorful cloth that traces her lineage from her father's side (but not her hag mother's), and goes back as far as the family's knowledge stretches. It is quite heavy and its complex loops and whorls are largely undecipherable to outsiders. It is her prized possession. She received it upon becoming an adult in her family group, and her standing will is that she be buried with her scarf-belt. Hanging from loops on her belt is a small hand accordion, a folk instrument she is quite adept at playing.

She bows and returns to her seat, deferring to you again.

[lostsole31]

As Éibhir is deep in thought over the situation dealing with his friend, he realizes he has been out of it while the others have been talking. The conversation at hand is non-specific and is the sharing of news and gossip from around the realm.

After about an hour, Vashian arrives precisely on time. No special skill is necessary to note that he doesn’t completely approve of strangers being involved in local matters, but he keeps his comments to himself, focusing his involvement entirely on the reading of Petros’s will. Kendra isn’t sure what’s contained in the will, since part of its stipulation was that all of the following must be present for its reading: Lord Éibhir Damon, Baron of Ifearnán; Gaye Kóbor, Operatic Duelist from Karcau; Amiri, Kellid Warrior of the North; Saint Dorn the Protector; Alewalker of Woeful Alchemy; and even the servant of Lord Damon is named, Viola Schmitt, Spirit-Speaker. That your servant is named is a surprise to both of you. Councilman Vashian produces a scroll case, shows that the professor’s personal seal is unbroken, then breaks the wax and opens the case. As he does, a small iron key falls out of the tube, clattering noisily onto the table. Undaunted by the key, the councilman begins to read, eager to be done with the business and to get back home.
“I, Petros Lorrimor, being of sound mind, do hereby commit to this parchment my last will and testament. Let it be known that, with the exception of the specific details below, I leave my home and personal belongings entire to my daughter Kendra. Use them or sell them as you see fit, my child.

“Yet beyond the bequeathing of my personal effects, this document must serve other needs. I have arranged for the reading of this document to be delayed until all principals can be in attendance, for I have more than mere inheritance to apportion. I have two final favors to ask.

“To my old friends, I hate to impose upon you all, but there are few others who are capable of appreciating the true significance of what it is I have to ask. As some of you know, I have devoted many of my studies to all manner of evil, that I might know the enemy and inform those better positioned to stand against it. For knowledge of one’s enemy is the surest path to victory over its plans.

“And so, over the course of my lifetime, I have seen fit to acquire a significant collection of valuable but dangerous tomes, any one of which in the wrong circumstances could have led to an awkward legal situation. While the majority of these tomes remain safe under lock and key at the Lepidstadt University, I fear that a few I have borrowed remain in a trunk in my Ravengro home. While invaluable for my work in life, in death, I would prefer not to burden my daughter with the darker side of my profession, or worse still, the danger of possessing these tomes herself. As such, I am entrusting my chest of tomes to you, posthumously. I ask that you please deliver the collection to my colleagues at the University of Lepidstadt, who will put them to good use for the betterment of the cause.

“Yet before you leave for Lepidstadt, there is the matter of another favor—please delay your journey one month and spend that period of time here in Ravengro to ensure that my daughter is safe and sound. She has no one to count on now that I am gone, and if you would aid her in setting things in order for whatever she desires over the course of this month, you would have my eternal gratitude. From my savings, I have also willed to each of you a sum of one hundred platinum coins. For safekeeping, I have left these funds with Embreth Daramid, one of my most trusted friends in Lepidstadt—she has been instructed to issue this payment upon the safe delivery of the borrowed tomes no sooner than one month after the date of the reading of this will.

“I, Petros Lorrimor, hereby sign this will in Ravengro on this first day of Calistril, of Four-Thousand, Seven Hundred Eleven in the Year of Absalom Reckoning."
Once the will is read, Councilman Vashian looks to Kendra, who thanks him and dismisses him. Putting on a brave face, Kendra thanks the group again for coming, and informs them that she’ll need at least a few weeks to decide if she wants to sell her family home or remain here in Ravengro—in the meantime, as stipulated by the will, she asks the group to remain as well. She offers rooms in her spacious house for everyone, promising everyone free room and board for the month the will requests them to remain in town, and then excuses herself to go fetch the chest mentioned in the will.

The chest itself is a relatively small object of oak and iron. Kendra, nervous about the contents, offers the key to Lord Damon to give him the honor of opening the chest.

[BuckGodot]

First examining the key carefully and then looking closely at the chest, as is his way, he will insert said key in the lock and open the chest.

[lostsole31]

The key fits the lock perfectly, and within are several old tomes and one relatively new one. The newest tome sits on the top and bears the phrase “Read me now!” scratched into the leather cover. This book appears to be Professor Lorrimor's journal. The other tomes comprise the books of dangerous lore mentioned in his will—three of these have notes tucked into them indicating that they should be delivered to one Montagnie Crowl, a professor of antiquities at Lepidstadt University. The fourth, Manual of the Order of the Palatine Eye, has a note indicating it should be delivered to Embreth Daramid, a judge at the Lepidstadt Courthouse (although the note asks for this delivery in particular to be handled discreetly, and includes the address of Embreth’s home so that the group can deliver it there).

These are the other books:

Manual of the Order of the Palatine Eye: The rich purple cover contains a brass scarab set with a single eye in its center. The book’s covers are rimmed in polished steel and clasped with a small but intricate lock, the keyhole of which appears to be for a key with a strange, triangular shaft. The key is nowhere to be found.http://cdn.obsidianportal.com/images/673212/Manual_of_the_Order_of_the_Palatine_Eye.jpg
On Verified Madness: This is a jet-black book.
Serving Your Hunger: This text is a copy of one of several unholy books sacred to the goddess Urgathoa. A quick flip shows that Lorrimor’s notations liberally sprinkle the margins.
The Umbral Leaves: This appears to be some manner of book with the unholy symbol of Zon-Kuthon.

[BuckGodot]

He opens the book that says "read me now"...

[lostsole31]

It will take some time to read through his journal, though with a month to spare that is no problem. Since this relates to everyone, Kendra will hold onto the key and lock the other books back in the chest for now, putting the key on a lanyard around her neck, but keeping the journal out. Meanwhile, for reasons stemming from altruism (St. Dorn), to a vacation (Gaye), to simply looking for one hell of a payday (Alewalker), all agree to the terms of the will for themselves. The servant provides dinner. It is assumed that you are consumed by reading the book before consuming dinner, and then some time afterwards. Viola sets to working with the servant to get your individual rooms readied.

The professor’s will does not mention his journal—it is not one of the dangerous tomes he wants delivered to Lepidstadt, it would seem. The majority of the entries are relatively bland, accounting for day-to-day activities in a small town. The professor has circled several entries in the book with red ink, though, and it is these entries he wanted the group to pay attention to it would seem, given his ominous "Read Me Now" note.I am sending you a handout via FB attachment.

[lostsole31]

The circled entries of Professor Lorrimor's journal ...
http://i1357.photobucket.com/albums/q755/lostsole31/Circled%20Entries%20in%20the%20Professors%20Journa l_zpsmxpp8c7t.png

[BuckGodot]

I will go round and gather the group one by one and ask them to meet in the main room that evening after supper. When I go to find Alewalker, I'll ask if I might have a few minutes of his time to speak.

[lostsole31]

They'll be willing to show.
Alewalker stands impassively. He doesn't leave, but he doesn't make a verbal "yes." He just stands there.
We'll retcon/ interactive your conversation with Alewalker, but if it doesn't immediately impact plot, separate in spoilers ... don't hold up the story.

[BuckGodot]

Forgive me if I spoke in a familiar way to you earlier, but, do you truly not remember me?

[lostsole31]

"I don't offer forgiveness," he says flatly. "I don't remember you. What do you want that matters? The past doesnt."

Considering dinner is the best time for this, Damon now has a captive audience. What are your opening remarks?

[BuckGodot]

I am sad to hear you say as much. We travelled together quite a lot in the past and it was enjoyable to me as well as mutually beneficial. I only wished to know that you were well. I'm sorry for disturbing you...

Gathered friends, for if you were a friend to the Professor, then you are a friend to me. I've read several of the highlighted areas in the journal as per his request. I wanted to share what I had found with you and get a general idea of thoughts and opinions. I then go over the aforementioned journal entries looking around the room trying to gauge peoples interest.

It seems there was something amiss that bears investigating. Thoughts? He gestures around the room indicating the floor is open for discussion.

[lostsole31]

Though you didn't say it to Alewalker right there, he was on his way downstairs from his room to raid the larder anyway, so he'll be "present"(-ish).

After your presentation ...

St. Dorn looks to Kendra, "Not to be indelicate, Ms. Lorrimor, but all I've heard was that your father died by way of 'misadventure' while checking out some ruins on the hill to the south of town. What happened?"

Kendra has some trouble with the question, but she has more trouble with what her late father's journal may imply. "We have a ruined prison - Harrowstone Prison - on the south hill. It's actually how Ravengro got its start, as a town that sprang up around a prison to support the families of the guards and the needs of the prison. There was a riot and a fire 50 years ago in 4661; nearly two dozen guards, all of the prisoners, the warden, and even his wife were all killed. I've never gone up there, and everyone 'knows' that it's haunted. It's the sort of place adolescent men use as an 'I dare you to go...' place. Well, my father was fascinated with the site, but he had the ill fortune to be standing under a wall with loose statuary. A bust or gargoyle or something fell and ..." and here she tries to go on, but she can't.

St. Dorn hands her a handkerchief and consoles her. "Ill luck is all, Ms. Lorrimor, and I am sure now he is entertaining Desna's court with his many stories."

As it turns out, two of you are quite knowledgeable about Harrowstone, owing to the fact you have a keen ear for stories of the land. Harrowstone is a ruined prison—partially destroyed by a fire in 4661, the building has stood vacant ever since. The locals suspect that it’s haunted, and don’t enjoy speaking of the place.

Harrowstone was built in 4594. Ravengro was founded at the same time as a place where guards and their families could live and that would produce food and other supplies used by the prison. The fire that killed all of the prisoners and most of the guards destroyed a large portion of the prison’s underground eastern wing, but left most of the stone structure above relatively intact. The prison’s warden perished in the fire, along with his wife, although no one knows why she was in the prison when the fire occurred. A statue commemorating the warden and the guards who lost their lives was built in the months after the tragedy—that statue still stands on the riverbank just outside of town.

Most of the hardened criminals sent to Harrowstone spent only a few months imprisoned, for it was here that most of Ustalav’s executions during that era were carried out. The fire that caused the tragedy was, in fact, a blessing in disguise, for the prisoners had rioted and gained control of the prison’s dungeons immediately prior to the conflagration. It was only through the self-sacrifice of Warden Hawkran and 23 of his guards that the prisoners were prevented from escaping—the guards gave their lives to save the town of Ravengro.Basically, you know what Kendra does, but you fill in more of the blanks ... and you probably can't help but using your Perform (oratory) to tell it more as a story than as a history lesson.

The mention of the Whispering Way in Lorrimor's journal is ominous. You happen to know that the Whispering Way is a sinister organization of necromancers that has been active in the Inner Sea region for thousands of years. But, from the religious side - Dorn, and from the arcane side - Viola, more is known about the Whispering Way. Agents of the Whispering Way often seek alliances with undead creatures, or are themselves undead. The Whispering Way’s most notorious member was Tar-Baphon, the Whispering Tyrant, although the society itself has existed much longer than even that mighty necromancer. Everyone knows of Tar-Baphon, the great bogeyman that held Ustalav in thrall for hundreds of years, and caused much of the southwest of the country to exist even to this day as little more than a scar and a blight on the land. Tar-Baphon was reputedly never destroyed, but rather imprisoned in his tower at Gallowspire. A somber mood is cast over your meeting with Dorn and Viola's knowledge, then, that this ancient organization that birthed forth this lich-necromancer, might once again be active. Even if the Whispering Way had nothing to do with any ill at Harrowstone, Lorrimor's mere mention of it in his journal is dark news, indeed.

Going back to Lorrimor's supposition that the Way is interested in someone that was interred at Harrowstone, you know that originally, Harrowstone housed only local criminals, but as the prison’s fame spread, other counties and distant lands began paying to have more dangerous criminals housed within this prison’s walls. At the time of the great Harrowstone Fire, the number of particularly violent or dangerous criminals imprisoned within the dungeons below was at an all-time high. The five most notorious prisoners in Harrowstone at the time of the great fire were Father Charlatan, the Lopper, the Mosswater Marauder, the Piper of Illlmarsh, and the Splatter Man.

You have heard of the Mosswater Marauder, Ispin Onyxcudgel. Only 5 years before his hometown of Mosswater was destined to be overrun and ruined by monsters from the nearby river, Ispin Onyxcudgel was a well-liked artisan and a doting husband. When he discovered his wife’s infidelity, he f lew into a jealous rage and struck her dead with his hammer, shattering her skull and his sanity with one murderous blow. Wracked with shame and guilt, Ispin became convinced that if he could rebuild his wife’s skull she would come back to life—but unfortunately, he could not find the last blade-shaped fragment from the murder site. So instead, Ispin became the Mosswater Marauder. Over the course of several weeks, the cunning dwarf stalked and murdered nearly 20 people while searching for just the right skull fragment. He was captured just before murdering the daughter of a visiting nobleman from Varno, and was carted off to Harrowstone that same night.

You also know the story of Hean Feramin, alias "The Splatter Man." Professor Feramin was a celebrated scholar of Anthroponomastics (the study of personal names and their origins) at the Quartrefaux Archives in Caliphas. Yet an accidental association with a succubus twisted and warped his study, turning it into an obsession. Feramin became obsessed with the power of a name and how he could use it to terrify and control. Soon enough, his reputation was ruined, he’d lost his tenure, and he’d developed an uncontrollable obsession with an imaginary link between a person’s name and what happens to that name when the person dies. Every few days, he would secretly arrange for his victim to find a letter from her name written in blood, perhaps smeared on a wall or spelled out with carefully arranged entrails. Once he had spelled his victim’s name, he would at last come for her, killing her in a gory mess using a complex trap or series of rigged events meant to look like an accident.

This is all you know, but it is not all that is known.

"Of the five notorious prisoners," says Alewalker, "only Father Charlatan - Sefick Corvin - was not technically a murderer, yet his crimes were so blasphemous that several churches demanded he be punished to the full extent of Ustalavic law. Although he claimed to be an ordained priest of any number of faiths, Father Corvin was in fact a traveling con artist who used faith as a mask and a means to bilk the faithful out of money in payment for false miracles or cures. He became known as Father Charlatan after his scheme was exposed and his Sczarni accomplices murdered a half-dozen city guards in an attempt to make good the group’s escape.

"And the Piper of Illmarsh? No one ever knew his real name. Before he snatched his victims, the Piper taunted his targets with a mournful dirge on his flute. He preferred to paralyze lone victims by dosing their meals with lich dust and then allowed his pet stirges to drink the victims dry of blood."

Nobody present knows anything about The Lopper.

[BuckGodot]

So it would seem that investigating might be worthwhile. Especially if there are fiendish forces at work and it may provide some closure for the Professor and for you, Ms. Lorrimor. Is there anyone who does not wish to participate?

[lostsole31]

"If you look into this, perhaps it will do my father's soul well," says Kendra. "As for myself, I will be too busy ... and I don't know that I can attend to this with the appropriate amount of dispassion for an investigator."

Viola stands, "My lord, if I may, we have no answers, but conjectures. I vouch for my lord here to lead such a mission, but for myself I ask permission to stay behind to protect Ms. Lorrimor and to provide her with another woman's company in this dark time."

The others murmur and nod assent.

"How do you propose we begin such a thing?" asks St. Dorn.

[BuckGodot]

Nods his approval to Viola.

It seems the best place would be to pick up and start where the Professor left off. I suggest we investigate whether he was able to acquire the tools he spoke of from the Restlands.

[lostsole31]

"We must protect ourselves against anything that a haunted prison, town, or evil cult may throw our way, Lord Damon," says St. Dorn. "We must take care, as well, that our actions do not upset the locals. We should research everything we can before stepping this way or that. As for the Restlands, I know Father Grimburrow would take a dim view of us strolling into the final resting home of the dead and start digging for treasure - even if it is easy to get to. The last thing we want to do when we are dealing with spooks and haunts is to anger the dead, let alone the Lady of the Dead herself."

Vaguely exasperated, Gaye speaks up, "What would you have us do then, Saint Dorn, hmmm? I daresay that I am more a scholar of the dead than yourself, but at what point can action be taken?"

[BuckGodot]

He is correct. I was not proposing that we immediately march out, however. That was merely the suggested starting point once we've prepared. We all have skills and preparations we can bring forth. It would be wise to know all we can bring to bear. Since we all were acquainted with the Professor in some fashion, I suggest that we know his methods and all have skills in relation to that field. While I am an excellent performer and speaker, I also have skills that can aid in investigations of this kind. I can prepare extracts that will aid in communicating with the dead, detecting and hiding from the undead. I have various forms of protection I can provide as well as some healing skills.

[lostsole31]

"I come from the world of the opera," says Gaye. "Nothing quickens a man's pulse, however, than a woman who knows the foreplay of steel. With my training in theater and personal fight masters I am a skilled fencer. Some see my heritage as unfortunate," she shrugs, "but I have had to learn just a touch of necromancy that I may heal myself if injured. For those that do not know, my people are harmed by positive energy, and healed by negative, just like our unliving fathers. Of course, it is still an attempt to assault, not suffuse, with positive energy to hurt me just as if you were using the same power against undead. So, if anyone here can channel so-called 'holy energy' for healing the group, you won't hurt me by mistake."

Amiri looks embarrassed. "I know how to fight. Just give me a living enemy. I can't help against ghosts."

Saint Dorn stands. "Older than you, I may be. My body isn't quite as strong as when I was growing up among the dwarves, but I am healthy nonetheless. I, too, am an orator, and I bring the word of Torag to the unfamiliar and non-believers. If that word has to be at the end of my hammer, so be it. I have a few spells, but I am not trained like most clerics you might have met. My skills are more about protecting those I'm with, but not necessarily healing."

The table looks at the last man standing, who is busying himself with a mug of ale. "Me? I can drink all of you under the table, and still have wits enough to fight."

[BuckGodot]

Thank you all for sharing that information. So it seems settled. We will move ahead with this. Saint Dorn (first name Michael?), you had the right of as far as researching before we go. Have you any suggestions as to where to start, then?

[lostsole31]

"Please," he says modestly, "just Dorn. Others use that silly title. And Dorn is my first name, and my last.

"Ms. Lorrimor, what places in town could offer us information? Any libraries of any type?"

Kendra nods and says, "Well, first of all, there is my father's study right here. Obviously, you have free reign of that, but do not destroy or steal any books.

"Now, the places in town might take some convincing. First of all, Ravengro Town Hall would have to have information on Harrowstone, but I doubt the officials would let you look at anything. The Temple of Pharasma would surely have some material on the town's history, and you've already met dour Father Grimburrow. Finally, there is The Unfurling Scroll - a combination schoolhouse and magic items shop run by Alendru Ghoroven. Of course, warming up to the locals might be a good idea; rumor is usually false, but you still might never know when you hear something useful."

[BuckGodot]

It seems that perhaps Gaye and I would be best suited to go into town and warm the locals. Dorn and the rest can explore the Professors personal library. Viola, I know you would like to keep near Ms. Lorrimor. Would assisting Dorn detract from your duties?

[lostsole31]

"That should be fine, Lord Damon, thank you," says Viola.

Well, if there's nothing else ... ready for the morrow?

[BuckGodot]

Let's all get some rest, then and get a fresh start in the morning. Ms. Lorrimor, I bid you good evening. With that, he turns and heads to where he is sleeping...

[lostsole31]

The next day, there are pleasantries at breakfast, but folks split up to do whatever, which includes you and Gaye heading out to explore the town.

Do you have an agenda in mind, or are you exploring? if the latter, the Lorrimor is a modest manor that faces the southeast and is on the western side of a town road going relatively N>S (though NE>SW at the bend near the house). There is a nice town home across the road.

Roughly 100' south on the road a wooden, walking bridge crosses a stream that comes off from a main river that goes through town.

100' past that the road intersects vaguely in a 'T.' Even from here you see a pole that has papers festooning it.

The road continues south from that point, heading out of town and up a hill towards Harrowstone. The intersecting road heads NW to cross the river for about 200' under a covered wooden bridge.

Looking north of the Lorrimor House, the road will pass several more in-town plots and homes before heading into the main part of town.

[BuckGodot]

It would seem best to start with the easiest first, I suppose.

Gaye, as a follower of Pharasma, I may have an in at the Temple. I suggest we start there. We may accomplish more if we split up, however, how do you feel you would be received by the locals? We can stay together if you say it is wise, but you exude confidence and I'm quite sure you could handle yourself. The object, of course, is to win over the locals so that we may put these rumours to rest and proceed with an investigation. What say you?

[lostsole31]

"Actually," says Gaye, "in a cosmopolitan place like Karcau, I shine. Unfortunately, these backwater provincials may prove to be too superstitious, at least at first. I will go with you. Besides, I am interested in making an appearance at the temple. Besides," she adds with a wink, "a lady should not walk without escort through a strange town. We've already faced one band of brigands."

You head south on the road, over the attractive walking bridge, and to the intersection with the pole. These are what are known as "posting poles." The best sources for local news in Ravengro are the posting poles located throughout the town. Here one can find dozens of messages tacked to one of the five huge posts jutting out of the ground—generally, all five posting poles have identical notices, but periodically one or two messages might be missing from the poles. It is at the Posting Poles that the locals leave news of nuptials, job postings for farmhands, or notices of missing pets. The most popular regular item at the Posting Poles, however, is the “Wealday Parchment”—a weekly posting written by elderly councilman Gharen Muricar that summarizes Ravengro’s current politics. Occasionally, it even carries news of events beyond Ravengro’s borders. The “Wealday Parchment” is the closest thing Ravengro has to a weekly paper.

It just so happens that attaching posts this morning is a familiar face: Pevrin Elkarid, the oldest son (13) of the tavernkeeper Zokar Elkarid. Do you pass by or interact?

[BuckGodot]

Good day to you! Young Lord Elkarid, is it not? Pray, what news have you today? he asks, putting on a smile and a slight bow.

[lostsole31]

He points to a notice that he's just putting up. "The latest, Lord Damon, just this morning. Happened sometime last night."

The notice reads:

"Harrowstone Memorial is a symbol of the trials our town has undergone, and an edifice built to honor the bravery of those who died in the Harrowstone fire of 4661. Thus is the character of our town - resolute in the face of tragedy - and to deface it is an attack on our settlement's very soul. If you are responsible, come forth in private to myself or Sheriff Caeller to rectify your mistake. Failure to do so, should you be caught, will result not only in this task but in legal prosecution, as well.
- Signed, this 21st day of Calistril 4711 AR
Councilman Vashian Hearthmount"

[BuckGodot]

Thank you, my good man. Turning to address Gaye he says, This may well provide a way into the good graces of the town council, were we to solve the defacing of the memorial. Agreed?

[lostsole31]

"Agreed," she purrs. "Excuse me, my handsome young cavalier, which way is it to the Harrowstone Memorial?"

The adolescent boy gulps as he can't help but take a long look at her. She is patient, even playfully so, and he finally catches himself. "Uh-um, take this western road just a couple hundred yards and there will be a path going south along the river. Can't miss it, ma'am."

She gives a curtsey that is low, and she bends ever slightly forward with her neck slightly back so that he is lost looking into her cleavage. He doesn't even register that she put a Brevic link in his hand before she takes your arm in hers and leads you hence.Several currencies exist. Though somewhat exotic to this locale, the silver coin of Brevoy is known as a "link," or "silver link."
You get closer to the river when you finally see two paths split in a curve from each side of the road, heading to follow the river. To the north (right) is a wide path, wider than the stretch of road your own - obviously for the use of a wagon or cart - that leads up to a house 100' away. You turn the other way down a very worn path, barely distinguishable from the surrounding dirt. You pass a decent-sized house to the left (the river is to your right), and then a little more past that is a ramshackle building, and then the path is bounded on the left by trees, ominous and still in the naked winter. The memorial is about 250' south of the badly-maintained house.

Other than the looming ruins of Harrowstone on a nearby hill, Ravengro’s most distinctive landmark is a 25-foot-tall, moss-covered stone statue that overlooks the river. The statue depicts a proud, muscular human man dressed in leathers and wielding a truncheon—a depiction of Warden Hawkran. A total of 25 names—the guards who died in the fire of 4661, as well as the warden’s wife, Vesorianna—are chiseled into the statue’s stone base.

You can imagine that the memorial must be a popular meeting spot for late-night trysts among Ravengro’s young lovers, for it has just the right mix of tragic romance and spooky ambience without actually being on Harrowstone’s supposedly haunted grounds. Unlike this old memorial, there is a new addition that is most jarring. At the base of the statue, the letter "V" is spelled out in a red-brown substance. It doesn't take much for either of the two of you to realize that it's blood (or a substance made to look like that). There is a little bit more blood spattered about randomly on the statue, but not a lot.

[lostsole31]

You carefully look at the clues, but you can't seem to find anything which you can track. Figures. You're great at finding clues, but not at tracking them. (That's the province of Survival.)

You can tell that a fair amount of blood was used, but not a ridiculous amount. As much as might be found in a Tiny animal (an animal usu. 1'-2' long or tall), but no bigger.

[BuckGodot]

I will share my findings with Gaye and perform a quick detection for magic.

[lostsole31]

You don't detect any magic on this.

[BuckGodot]

This has the look of a prank, but just on the off chance, I tried, but could not detect any magic. I'm not sure what else can be done here. I'm no tracker but I'm willing to bet someone back at the house may be skilled.

[lostsole31]

"What could they tell, my lord?" asks Gaye. "The ground is too cold to mark well, and many boots have been here - whomever came to inspect this, as well as any other onlookers. I say we leave this hayseed mischief for those that truly care. The memorial might be some study by itself, but it is a cold morning. Shall we continue to the temple?"

[BuckGodot]

Yes. Let's. We shall pick this up at a later time.

[lostsole31]

The two of you head back to the main road and then turn left onto the road and into the covered wooden bridge crossing the river and exit on the western side. You pass several more homes as the road guides from NW to N. Then, across a field you see a very large house, a mansion, really, and continue on. During this movement up the road, you will pass several small paths that stem off to lead to homes seen or further out to the west. Finally, you get to your destination.

This temple is devoted to Pharasma, the Lady of Graves. Ravengro’s only religious structure, the temple is also the town’s most elaborate building. Its eastern facade displays an intricate stained-glass mural depicting a stern Pharasma judging Count Andachi, one of Tamrivena’s most infamous previous rulers. Just the right of the entrance, there is another posting pole, which already has the notices concerning the vandalism. You go inside, and you are meeted by a young priestess.

"State your business," she says.

[BuckGodot]

Putting on an air of humility and bowing low, he says Greetings Your Reverence. I am Éibhir Damon of Ifearnán. My companion, Gaye Kóbor and I seek information on the town. If it pleases, could you be so kind as to allow us access to your library so we may research the rich history of this delightful area?

[lostsole31]

"Just you," she says severely. "Your strumpet is not permitted."

[BuckGodot]

Looking her straight in the eye and replyingI'm sure you meant no slight to Ms. Kobor and I'm equally sure that you were unaware of her renown as a talented opera singer, famous in many regions more attuned to the arts. If needs be, summon Father Grimburrow to resolve such an error in judgement. Remember, all who live must face her judgment. And in keeping with the ways of The Lady, I'm sure you meant to reserve your judgement till the last...

I guess I am attempting a bluff here and I would take 10 as I'm in no crunch for time.

[lostsole31]

You might have done a mini-Bluff concerning Gaye's renown, but definitely an Intimidation check.

Wow. And I just rolled her saving throw ...
The Pharasmin takes a second. "You are right," she says to you, then looks to Gaye and says flatly. "Perhaps I did speak out of turn because you are a gussied stranger, but you city folk appear a bit much to us. You are no strumpet, but obviously a lady."

She turns to you, "As such, since she is still not permitted to peruse the library, it would be unkind for a lord - in name only, because there is no more aristocracy in Vieland, let alone here in the fellow Palatinate County of Canterwall - to leave her by herself. I cannot in good conscience allow you to drop her off on our doorstep while you are in the library. Therefore, I feel it is my civic duty to deny you - an outsider with no legal or moral right - access to our records. Good day, sir."

[BuckGodot]

He looks at Gaye rather sheepishly and says Well then... To the town hall?

[lostsole31]

How do you get to Town Hall (i.e., you don't know where it is).

[BuckGodot]

Is the church on the outskirts of town? If not, we can look for a more populous portion of the town. Where the businesses are, etc. I'm sure the Town Hall would be near there. We could always accost more townspeople. LOL

[lostsole31]

When you leave the temple, you can look straight across open fields to the main part of town back on the eastern side. Basically, if you went left out of the Lorrimor home, you would have headed there. Since from your vantage point you don't see if there is another bridge or anything, it's back the way you came south on the western road ... across the bridge, a little eastwards to the 'T' ... left (north) ... past the Lorrimor home ... past mainly small fields and plots on the left (river side) and a lot of little houses on the right, until 600' after the front walkway to the Lorrimor home you get to the town square (or, more properly, the circle).

A simple wooden gazebo at the center of a grassy circular plaza serves as the hub for Ravengro’s major festivals and gatherings. The town council also uses the gazebo as a platform for major announcements. When their labor allows it, farmers who have musical talent often converge here, forming impromptu bands. Definitely the place where the farmer's market probably meets, but you're not sure what day. There's a very old dog sleeping under the gazebo steps. On the outer, other side of the circle (north side), there is another posting pole. Buildings face inwards in a round, following the circle. The buidling immediately to the left of you (south entrance) is the Ravengro Forge, and to the right of you is an almost military-like building with a sign identifying it as The Silk Purse. Next building over (counterclockwise) to the right is the Ravengro Town Hall .... your destination.

In classic small-town style, the people of Ravengro use this all-purpose facility for virtually everything, including council meetings, wedding receptions, and, when it rains, even the annual cook-off. A clerk is there to greet you. "How many I help you, Lord Damon?"

[BuckGodot]

Nodding to the clerk. Good day, my friend. I and my companion are on an errand for Ms. Lorrimor. After the unfortunate passing of her father, she has asked us to look in to some of the history regarding her estate and the area. We would be ever so grateful to you if you could assist us?

I don't see the need to use any of the fun stuff to begin with. If there is resistance, then I'll break out the big guns...

[lostsole31]

He smiles, "Lord Damon, it would be my pleasure. Honestly, my lord, the only way I can officially define this on paper is in your capacity as a member of County Vieland's government. Otherwise, as a Ravengro citizen, Ms. Lorrimor would have to come herself. I do have a deputy who will need to watch you while you work, but I doubt there's any harm you could do the town unless you actually tried to steal or destroy a record. Unfortunately, I can only allow one of you in records at one time. No offense, ma'am, policy; but, I am sure if you are with Ms. Lorrimor during this trying time, she could use the company. Or, perhaps you could enjoy a walk to the Laughing Demon to enjoy our hospitality while Lord Damon looks at what he needs."

Gaye puts her hand on your arm, "You are so very kind, sir, and I appreciate your willingness to work with Lord Damon on behalf of Ms. Lorrirmor. Where is the Laughing Demon?"

"When you step out of the Hall, look directly across town square to the other side and you'll see a sizeable path heading to the river. The Laughing Demon overlooks the river. But just a word of caution, our folks are distrusting of strangers - especially city folk - so it would behoove you not to come armed with words like 'rustic' or 'hick.' Just tell ol' Zokar that Nedry sent you; he'll give you a drink on me."

Gaye looks at you, "Sounds good to me. Besides, I might be able to overhear something. I imagine you'll be awhile research, so don't worry about me."

Is this arrangement fine with Ebby? He will need to sign in.

[BuckGodot]

Absolutely. He will sign in...

[lostsole31]

What subject is he researching?

[BuckGodot]

Harrowstone and the surrounding area... The surrounding area to put a little truth to the reason I stated I was here, but mostly Harrowstone...

[lostsole31]

Understand that it isn't a roll and an hour and you're good. What you learn takes you all day in your research, and being an experienced researcher it's best to have multiple corroborating sources (or the ability to draw the proper conclusions).

You learn everything already mentioned previously about Harrowstone, but you learn the following as well. At the time Harrowstone burned, five particularly notorious criminals had recently arrived at the prison. While the commonly held belief is that the tragic fire began accidentally after the riot began, in fact the prisoners had already seized control of the dungeon and had been in command of the lower level for several hours before the fire. Warden Hawkran triggered a deadfall to seal the rioting prisoners in the lower level, but in so doing trapped himself and nearly two dozen guards. The prisoners were in the process of escaping when the panicked guards accidentally started the fire in a desperate attempt to end the riot.

This is where you research gets you by the end of the day when the deputy mentions that it is time to leave to lock up. You hadn't taken time for a meal and you are incredibly hungry by now, but this is par for the course when you get involved in a mystery.

[BuckGodot]

He will wrap up then, and emerge into the remaining daylight, bleary eyed and head down to The Laughing Demon.

[lostsole31]

Zokar Elkarid, the proprietor of the Laughing Demon whom you met at the funeral, holds the philosophy that the best way to meet the horrors of the world is with a jest, for if one can laugh at the worst life has to offer, there remains little to fear. His warm and friendly tavern does its best to live up to this admirable philosophy, down to the menu. Zokar takes pains to come up with humorous names for his drinks and meals, with offerings like vampire steaks (cuts of beef skewered on thick wooden spikes), wolf balls (lamb meatballs served on plates painted to look like the face of the full moon), corpse chowder (a thick stew with red broth and chunks of meat), and liquid ghosts (a sweet pale ale that glows faintly with a greenish tint). Zokar and his regulars enjoy telling visitors tall tales about what’s really in the food served here.

You walk in as Gaye is singing a song from a well-known opera - well-known to those who are exposed to culture, not the hoi polloi such as the farmers here, that is. She is giving a great performance, with a skill that shows that she was (or is likely to have been) part of a professional opera, worthy of a regional reputation (or at least on her way).

Zokar comes to you, mentioning the specials (as above), and asks what he may get for you. Other locals are there, some watching Gaye, some involved in their own discussions, a table of gamblers, and a table with a fortune teller who seems to make this her office.

[BuckGodot]

He will order a full meal as well as an ale. For the moment, he will enjoy the remaining performance. Waiting for Gaye to finish he will observe his fellow patrons with a keen eye.

[lostsole31]

She will finish her set and come down across from you as you are eating. "Learn anything interesting, Lord Damon?"

[BuckGodot]

Between bites, he will relay to her what he discovered. When finished he asks, What about you? Any luck here?

[lostsole31]

"I heard a fascinating rumor. They say that Harrowstone's executioner still guards the execution balcony on the western side of the prison, and that on some nights, his scythe can be seen patrolling the balcony on its own, as if carried by an invisible spirit. It seems that the sheriff is particularly interested in one Jominda Fallenbridge. Jominda Fallenbridge does more than brew potions. Possibly, she brews drugs and poisons as well and sells them through other agents in town." She shrugs. "Those were the rumors that seemed the most interesting ... word of the desecration of the Harrowstone Memorial with the mysterious 'V' is the main topic of chatter."

[BuckGodot]

Fascinating! That scythe carrying executioner might bear looking into! Before we go, I'm going to indulge my curiosity and speak with the fortune teller. He will rise and cross to the "office" and if she is not busy, ask for an appointment.

[lostsole31]

Gaye bids you good night as she is heading back to the house.

You go over to the teller and she motions for you to sit. "Shall I read the Harrow for you, Mr. Damon?"

[BuckGodot]

Please. he says and smiles.

[lostsole31]

You've seen this scores of time by someone who really has power with a Harrow deck - Viola. She's the only one you've never quite figured out with the trick. Most Varisian fortune telling skill is one part theatrics, one part observation, and one part psychology. She shuffles the deck in a very ritualistic manner, allowing you to make two three cuts during that time

"Please, the top card is the role card which will guide your actual reading," she says. "You may cut the deck and take the top from that."

The ritual of the third and final cut, you happen to know, is important. First, it gives the client ("mark," "dupe," "fool," in some cynical circles) the sense of control over their fate and to allow them to think that there was no sleight of hand in a pre-arranged deck. Symbolically, the number '3' is extremely important in Varisian numerology, and in truth after the role card is drawn the actual Harrow layout is comprised of 3 cards laid by three cards to determine the reading.

You cut and take the top card. Per tradition, it is set on the table, and then turned over ... not turned over in your hand. This is also so any onlookers can see that you are open with Fate. You set the card down on the table and turn it over.

No sooner do you do this, then the card - all of the cards, including the ones in the fortune teller's hands - flare up and suddenly burst into flame. You manage to turn your head away in time, as does the fortune teller. There are screams from the area within 10' of you! Those that seem like they can see are more bewildered by what happened, but a few who are shielding their eyes seem scared for 1 to 4 rounds. The fortune teller's Harrow deck is scattered all over the ground and table, but the one you conspicuously turned over is unburnt. As are all the cards, actually, and yet the smell of smoke still lingers in the air. The card is The Uprising - a card that shows a small army of enraged peasants marching amid a field of flames.

The medium seems genuinely shaken, like that is something she has never seen before, and she hurriedly begins gathering up the cards ... all except The Uprising, which she treats like anathema, even going so far as to not directly look at it. As others regain their senses, a couple of those that were blinded, a minority of those that were blinded, actually, try to get others to believe them that they heard screaming. But their own voices fall on deaf ears, and soon you wonder if you, too, might be deaf.

Then you realize you aren't deaf at all, but the whole tavern has gone quiet. And every eye is fixed on you, even as every tongue seems to have stopped wagging. Looks of confusion, dread, fear, even anger .... but none view you with favor. It seems that there has been some essence of primal fear and paralysis that has fallen upon the mass while waiting to see what you do.

[BuckGodot]

What is the meaning of this! What kind of charlatan are you that would dare to attempt to impune my reputation with these fine folk? Turning to address the room, he begins speaking. My friends, do not be alarmed by this common parlour trick. This is merely an illusion in an attempt to sway your opinion of the visitors who have recently graced your lovely town. I offer my sincere apologies on behalf of those who would wish to do this. Be assured that I will investigate and determine who would wish to mistreat you in this way. Anyone believing that you are common and untrusting of others and who would attempt to take advantage of you in this way, must be brought to justice!

Take 10 and Perform: Oratory using Distraction in an attempt to counter whatever effects are in place.

[lostsole31]

The middle-aged woman, mid-50s, throws herself at your feet, "My lord! I did nothing! Someone else must have done magic. I only read the cards, I don't have no magic! I ain't done nothin' wrong!"

She begins sobbing at your feet, and the crowd is still very unsure and leery of what has transpired.

[BuckGodot]

Rise woman, and fear no retribution from me. I believe you. But my friends, there are those here in town that will continue to seek to pursuade you by false means that we mean ill to you or the town. Taking advantage of what they percieve as weakness within you. That is not the case. We seek only to help. You are strong! Remain steadfast to yourselves and your friends and family! Do not be decieved by these fear mongers. Let us aid you in what ways we can.

Continuing to Perform with Distraction. Depending on how it goes he will switch to Diplomacy in an attempt to Influence Attitude.

[lostsole31]

Zokar calls out, "Who would do such a thing!"

[BuckGodot]

Yes! he says, gesturing to Zokar. Thank you, good Sir! Who WOULD do such a thing? I know that your fellow townsfolk are intelligent and kind! I would never tolerate such mistreatment of my fellows and nor should they! Why, I say they should be indignant and offended by such an insult. To be sure, I am offended for them! Are there any here who would tolerate such an offense?

One more round at Perform Oratory and Distraction for good measure.

[lostsole31]

The crowd is not "won over" by the end of whatever you were trying to affect. Perhaps, this is because you don't know what you were trying to affect yourself. But you did manage to calm them, and nobody knows anything .... but they are still uncomfortable. Nothing like this ever happens. Until you came to town. The townies don't care who or why a cause so much as they correlate it to you being here. That, and their superstitious minds don't seem to be able to pull away from the sophomoric sense that something truly sinister is there. By the time you manage to calm everyone to a neutral, you realize that the fortune teller is gone. She took her Harrow deck, but The Uprising still sits there on your table.

[BuckGodot]

He will examine the card, first in an attempt to detect whether it has any magical emanations...

[lostsole31]

Not magical. Definitely part of an heirloom deck ... the cards must have been in the seer's family for at least three generations.

[BuckGodot]

He will collect the card and make his way to the door and head back to his lodgings.

[lostsole31]

Zokar will set up a tab for you, and you can set up payment with him at the end of each week. Though tonight was strange, you are considered an honorable enough man that a signeted cheque will work.This is the means by which you put forth money to your weekly expense without the actual exchange of gold in hand by you. Truth be told, this is more realistic than you nobles strolling around with 10 pounds of gold in five different purses.

Next, we will assume that your ring of the chameleon is also your family signet ring. :smallsmile:
You get home, and it is later so the plan is to hit the hay.

What are your plans for the next day?

[BuckGodot]

Rise, eat and gather the others for a quick information exchange...

[lostsole31]

Looking at the Lorrimor library, Saint Dorn was able to learn - or at least verify - what was already known about the Whispering Way. However, being more focused on arcane matters, Viola was able to discover a lot more.

The Whispering Way itself is a series of philosophies that can only be transferred via whispers—the philosophies are never written or spoken of loudly, making the exact goals and nature of the secretive philosophy difficult for outsiders to learn much about. Exact details on the society are difficult to discern, but chief among the Whispering Way’s goals are discovering formulae for creating liches and engineering the release of the Whispering Tyrant. Agents often travel to remote sites or areas plagued by notorious haunts or undead menaces to perform field research or even to capture unique monsters. Their symbol is a gagged skull, and those who learn too many of the Way’s secrets are often murdered, and their mouths mutilated to prevent their bodies from divulging secrets via speak with dead.

[BuckGodot]

He will also briefly recount his experience at the tavern and solicit opinions.

[lostsole31]

Viola can sense no psychic emanations from The Uprising; Dorn thinks undead are at play; Gaye is more cynical and thinks a more mortal source is responsible for some reason; Amiri isn't sure what to thinik; and Alewalker doesn't care.

[lostsole31]

Toilday, 22 Calistril

So, the above occurs, and otherwise it is a day for relative downtime.

Later in the morning, Viola recommends that since you are a relatively renowned fencer, you give fencing/combat lessons for everyone, including perhaps a little archery or missile combat training as well. Everyone is more than excited to have a lesson under Lord Damon ... except Alewalker (and Kendra, who's busy with other things). He doesn't exactly resist, but he isn't a model student, either. Not counting any level of actual, specialized skill, it is easy to see everyone's general combat skill level. Buddy, this is a green crowd. A green crowd, indeed. But, it is nice to be promoted by your cohort and sought out for training.

This is how overall combat skill pans out as per BAB (melee and ranged) ... with no adjustments based on Weapon Focus, Weapon Finesse, STR, DEX, or any other specialized training (except as tiebreakers). This is listed in ascending order.


Despite being surprisingly strong, spry, and knowledgeable, St. Dorn actually has no real combat experience to speak of.
Gaye has some training as an "operatic duelist" (some type of swashbuckler that generated in the opera).
Amiri, from raw combat skill, is no better or worse than Gaye, but her physical prowess makes her just a hair more competent overall. Otherwise, the two women are relatively similar in skill.
Viola is worlds ahead of the rest.
Then comes you.
And significantly ahead of you, smacking your rapier out of your hand at the end of it while he goes off to do whatever it is he's going to do by himself the rest of the day.

That afternoon, it's a pretty good idea to get a feel for people's strength of will. You might not have laid all your cards on the table to the others, but if you are going to actually do any ghost-hunting, as a dread investigator you know you damn sure need to make sure people steel their minds. You start training folks on the psychology of the mind at fear, how to deal with overthrowing invasive enchantments, and even small mantras to say to protect one's spirit against necromancy.

Amiri, totally untrained.
Gaye has some trainiing, but what artist doesn't know how to steel themselves against rejection.
As can be expected, St. Dorn is very focused.
Still significantly ahead of Dorn, but only a little behind you, is Viola.

The evening goes by uneventfully. Do you have anything planned for the next day?

[BuckGodot]

The next day, I will make a solo venture back to the church and attempt to put myself in a more favourable light to gain egress and do the research I was hoping to do before.

[lostsole31]

Nope. Their records are still off limits. Anything else?

[BuckGodot]

Nope... Just continue training then.

[lostsole31]

Wealday, 23 Calistril 4711 AR

Later in the morning, after your return from a stymied attempt to get information at the Temple of Pharasma, you find you have been temporarily replaced ... by Alewalker. It seems he was unhappy and scornful of your more technical and schooled approach to teaching combat, and he is also training everyone, but with his style it is extremely rough, brutal, and dirty. Still, if you want to observe or get in on it, he won't stop you.

That afternoon, since Alewalker did the physical portion, you once again discuss and train the group on mental resistance techniques with Dorn and Gaye. Alewalker does not attend, but goes back to shut himself in his room. Likewise, Amiri and your own cohort have other things to do. Amiri, missing her homeland in the north, will leave to go swim in the frigid river. Viola goes with her to make sure she doesn't kill herself from hypothermia or something silly like that, but uses that time on the banks of the river to commune with fire spirits.

When they come back, Viola will let you know that she was talking with some locals, and the rumor continues about supposedly seeing the executioner's scythe. Not recently, of course, but it's a popular rumor. Also, Viola gets the sense that even though you and company have been keeping at the Lorrimor place for the last two days (for the most part), the group of visitors as a whole is distrusted. Not only are there concerns about the wild display that occurred at the tavern a few nights ago, but it seems that the older soothsayer who owned the Harrow deck and frequented the tavern drowned in the river. Her body washed up along the riverbank about two miles away.

Do you have any plans for the evening (no training) or for the next day?

[BuckGodot]

He will poll the group on investigating the womans death and also, if he didn't already mention it, ask opinions about trying to solve the desecration of the monument.

[lostsole31]

Its an easy enough thing to attempt an autopsy, but it will be harder to track up and down the banks to determine where she went in and how it happened. As far as the memorial, it's a mystery alright. Just as likely some misbehaving kids as it is any real threat.

[BuckGodot]

Are there any amongst us who has the skills to track her steps? Who can perform the autopsy?

[lostsole31]

Viola doesn't bring up your own skill as a dread investigator, trained more for autopsies than herself (even though crunch-wise her Heal skill is greater) as you are. She assumes you have a good reason for not saying anything. "As you well know, my liege, I am more than trained in such an endeavor. Ms. Kóbor and I have talked about several things, and she has some minor medical skill and a fascination with thanatology. If it is acceptable to her and she thinks she can stomach a real cadaver, I would like to have her assist me."

Gaye looks at her and then to you. "I would be honored."

"If I may," says Dorn, "I would like to be there to pray for the departed soul. Besides, I might be able to sway the sheriff to allow outsiders such as ourselves to do this. Remember we have the legal issue to deal with in this matter."

"I would be honored, St. Dorn," says Viola.

"I'm a bounty hunter by trade," grumbles Alewalker from under his cowl, still partially hidden and dark. "I will take Amiri to assist me."

[BuckGodot]

My apologies. I misspoke. I should have said, "assist with the autopsy". I will take on the task myself, but would be honoured to have you both at my side. I have prepared an extract that may allow us to shed further light on the grisly business as well.

[lostsole31]

Okey-doke. What's the plan?

[BuckGodot]

In the morning, Dorn, Viola and I will head out to perform the autopsy whilst Alewalker goes a trackin...

[lostsole31]

Viola ..." ... Ms. Kóbor and I have talked about several things, and she has some minor medical skill and a fascination with thanatology. If it is acceptable to her and she thinks she can stomach a real cadaver, I would like to have her assist me."

Gaye looks at her and then to you. "I would be honored."So, you are not allowing Gaye to come with you?

[BuckGodot]

Yes. Player memory, not character. I just forgot...

[lostsole31]

So? Where do you go? Unless you've been there before, you don't know.

Because I'm an annoying bastard, Kendra already left to do some errands with the servant.

[BuckGodot]

I would say the best thing to do is head back into town and look for the sheriffs office.

[lostsole31]

The four of you head out, turning left out of the house to go into the heart of town where you figure you'll find the jail. You get to the square. Going counterclockwise from where the road comes into the square you have The Silk Purse, Ravengro Town Hall, and The Outward Inn. The next building up that you hadn't noted before is the Ravengro General Store. Then there's a posting pole between that building and the next, the Ravengro Jail.

Ravengro itself does not appear to be a crime-ridden town (despite - or perhaps because of - Harrowstone), and its relatively small jail has always been more than enough to handle the town's criminals (mostly public drunkards, vandals, or other minor thugs who rarely spend more than a few days in a cell). There are two men working in here at this time.

[BuckGodot]

Good day, gentlemen. Would the sheriff be in today? he'll say as he steps forward smiling.

[lostsole31]

"Mr. Damon," a man nods and comes forward to you. A hale man in his late 20s or early 30s, he nevertheless has spent a life doing labor before being elected or assigned his position. He holds out his hand, "Sheriff Benjan Caeller. What can I do for you?"

[BuckGodot]

Looking at Dorn and then taking the outstretched hand and shaking it he says, We're here because of the incident with the old sooth sayer and were wondering if we could offer our services.

[lostsole31]

"Nothing to offer," says the sheriff, completing the handshake. "Committed suicide. Died by drowning. There warn't any marks on her that showed any kind of struggle. Temple of Pharasma has her body in preparations for burial. She didn't have any family. I appreciate the offer, though."

[BuckGodot]

Thank you, Sir. If we can be of service anytime, please feel free to contact me.

Turning away and walking in the direction of the church, he'll say to Dorn, Well. I'm glad to have you along, given my track record with the church...

[lostsole31]

Your little group leaves the jail, you see a group of five little Varisian girls dressed in shawls and dresses are playing a skipping rope game at the side of the road. Each of the girls takes turns jumping in the rope while singing two lines of a rather disturbing song, then skips out of the rope to let the next girl take up the next two lines. The way in which the girls switch from skipping to passing the ends of the rope to each other to keep the whole thing going is strikingly well timed and well choreographed—and the verse itself, which the girls sing in Varisian, is rather disturbing. The five repeating verses are as follows:


"Put her body on the bed.


Take a knife and lop her head.


Watch the blood come out the pipe.


Feeds the stirge, so nice and ripe.


Drops of red so sparkly bright.


Splatters spell her name just right.


With a hammer killed his wife.


Now he wants to claim your life.


Tricksy father tells a lie.


Listen close or you will die."

[BuckGodot]

Is this something I'm familiar with?

[lostsole31]

You've never heard this rhyme before.

[BuckGodot]

He will pause and cross to the girls. Bowing low and with a grand flourish he asks, Pardon, if you will, ladies. Can any of you offer any information about the origin of your rhyme?

[lostsole31]

The children immediately stop playing and stand quietly and nervously - they've been well schooled by their parents to avoid talking to strangers. Still, Lord Damon has his winning ways and he gets the kids to relax (but only if he shaves and doesn't offer them candy or a ride from his white van with the covered windows).

"I dunno, mister," says the oldest girl, whose shrug is mimicked in chorus by the others. "It's just something that's been around forever."

[BuckGodot]

Bowing low again and smiling his thanks, he backs away and resumes walking with the others.

[lostsole31]

You get to the Temple of Pharasma. How do you wish to proceed? Viola is a fellow Pharasmin w/ a Diplomacy +10. St. Dorn, as an evangelist of sorts, seems to be pretty savvy with non-Torag worshipers.

[BuckGodot]

Friends, I would like to say that my reputation with this facility is untarnished, however, I do believe it is not. I wish to amend that but ultimately, our goal is to see the body and if necessary perform the autopsy. I will need your assistance to garner whatever favour we can to gain entrance. I believe that honesty would be the best policy and I think we should be forthcoming and state our belief that foul play is suspected and we wish to render our services to research that suspicion. Thoughts, suggestions or alternate ideas before we attempt to gain egress?

[lostsole31]

"I humbly ask that you let them know that I am the main one performing the autopsy, and that you are here on my behalf and to observe along with these two," says Viola.

You go in. Luckily, the grouchy lunch lady isn't there today. Make no mistake, there is a sense of distrust where the party is concerned (yourself included), but you manage to persuade the lead acolyte for the day to intercede to Father Grimburrow on your behalf. The old codger comes out and listens to your request ... which includes requesting to use the appropriate tools since nobody in your party has them. He is too busy, however he will have two acolytes on hand to observe everything. They are NOT there to assist you, but to observe (and even learn).

You get to the slab and Viola shows the other two how to set up tools for this purpose, and includes (verbally) showing the Pharasmin acolytes the same, being sure to test but hopefully enhance their own knowledge.

The old seer, Madame Maurica, was a Varisian woman of about 55 years of age. Her face is stuck in a look of false euphoria. Very disturbing, even when talking about a dead person.

Is there anything you want to do? If you do it, give specific guidelines where necessary.

[BuckGodot]

I have prepared an extract to allow me to speak with the dead. I have an idea of the questions I would ask, but I am open to suggestions. I think it best to try that, before we perform any physical autopsy.

[lostsole31]

Welcome to a solo game, where NPCs help, but you're the hero. Ask your questions ...

[BuckGodot]

He will perform the necessary steps to use the extract and then depending on the corpses reaction (there's an odd statement) he will ask questions. The remaining questions will of course be determined by the answer to the first one. Okay. Here we go. (Doing my 15 Int best to roleplay a 20 Int.)

Were you murdered?

[lostsole31]

Nothing happens. This means that the soul of the deceased is either unwilling to respond, or is unable to respond. Either way, such a spell won't work again (regardless of who casts it) for a week, by which time she'd be put in the ground.

It was a good idea, but it's a bust. Anything else special or go right to the old-fashioned medical autopsy?

[BuckGodot]

Straight on to the autopsy then.

[lostsole31]

You assist Viola with the autopsy. The victim died of auto-asphyxiation, but the asphyxiation was autonomically induced. It is not uncoming in many drowning victims for a reflexive response from the body to shut the airways to keep water from getting into the lungs. If not able to get to out of full immersion in time, a victim may actually autonomically asphyxiate. It isn't until after death that the muscles release and water fills the lungs. The cold water surely would have doomed her, anyway.

The physical autopsy complete - including weighing of organs and the like, it is time for Viola to perform her last. You might be a psychic naturally with your empathic abilities, but as a medium she is trained. You are a little better better at her in matters of the arcane, but her psychic abilities and training allow her to take that knowledge to a different direction with a focus in phrenology, examining the skulls of intelligent creatures to analyze the subject's psychological attributes, since the shape of the brain influences the shape of the skull. It takes her a minute of study and concentration.

"Varisian female ... age 55 ... neither moral nor immoral, ethical nor unethical, philosophically she had no real compass. Beyond this, I can tell nothing."

Collecting a full vial of her blood, Viola then spills that blood on the corner of a table with slightly raised edges (used for the very purpose of keeping errant fluids from running onto the messy morgue floor). She uses her powers to cast a psychic spell that takes 1 minute (which requires neither verbal nor somatic components) ... called blood biography (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/b/blood-biography).

"Who are you?" she asks of the spilt blood. Nothing happens.

Viola looks to you. "Her spirit is strong, even if her will wasn't and it led to suicide. She resisted both of us. I am sorry, my lord. Without evidence to the contrary, she died of drowning. We will no more about this once we get any kind of report from the ugly brute and Amiri's check of the scene. Right now, I am willing to call this suicide. It's just that the look of peace on her face is a mystery, but one we can't explain, at least at this time."

[BuckGodot]

Thank you both for helping with this. I believe this merely demonstrates how thorough our adversaries are. We shall have to proceed with caution yet redouble our efforts. Well done. Let us return and report our findings to the others and discuss our next step.

[lostsole31]

They both look at your like you have male genitalia protruding forth from your forehead. "... ummm ... what adversary, exactly?"

[BuckGodot]

Forgive me. I speak in general terms. Meaning the task at hand.

[lostsole31]

"If it's alright with you, Lord Damon," says Viola, "I will stay behind here with the acolytes to discharge our work and leave it as clean as when we arrived."

[BuckGodot]

Of course. St. Dorn? Will you be returning with me?

[lostsole31]

Gaye, overlooked again, jumps St. Dorn's consent and says, "We womenfolk will happily stay behind while you menfolk look to business."

[BuckGodot]

Bowing deeply in apology he says, No slight was meant, Gaye. I merely intended to ask St. Dorn some questions on the walk back. I would of course love your council and company as well.

****, I can't remember who all went with and who stayed behind. LOL

[lostsole31]

"Ahhh, the blue-blood patriarchy," she teases as she stays behind. "Alive and well in old, democratic Canterwall."

You leave the temple. Where to now?

[BuckGodot]

Well, presuming that the spellwork and autopsy took a fair amount of time, he's rather peckish. So he shall sally forth, and infiltrate the nearest place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy comestibles amongst other edibles.

Dorn, would you join me for a bite to eat?

[lostsole31]

He's only too happy to join you.

Does Ebby use his allowance to cover his buddies when he is out eating with them?

[BuckGodot]

Absolutely... only the best for his friends...

[lostsole31]

The others will catch up soon enough ... both the girls from your team, and Alewalker and Amiri. Being a good noble, they are all on your tab. :smallwink:

Amiri reports that they found the seer's point of entry. There was no fight or anything, and only bits of footprints here and there remain. Alewalker doesn't like it. It is clear there was no one else with her. Her prints come from the road and go right into the water. There is no sign of any loitering, not even of any settling of mud while she was at the water's edge to mull over the last, long moments of her life. It is as if she walked off the road, walked down to the water, and walked right into the river. He has never seen that behavior when investigating a potential suicide. No matter how desperate, all souls take time to ponder their last moments when they stand on the precipice.

[BuckGodot]

It seems perhaps she may have been under the influence of some persuasive magics... Hard to tell at this point. I suspect something was done to limit access to her in the afterlife as well...

[lostsole31]

"We might never know for sure," says Dorn.

"Now what, Lord Damon?" asks Viola.

Now what? asks the DM.

[BuckGodot]

I'm wondering if these little incidents, the grafitti, the death of this poor woman, are but a means to distract us from our true task. Perhaps it is time for us to pay a visit to Harrowstone and have a look around... What say you?

[lostsole31]

The others nod, except for the hooded Alewalker. "Lorrimor mentioned a stop in the Restlands for some stashed supplies."

[BuckGodot]

Excellent. Then, barring any objections, I suggest we set out on the morrow. That is, if we are not violating any provisions of the will by leaving early. If necessary we can stay. I recall the request was one month... Not sure exactly how much time has passed...

[lostsole31]

"Are we going to seek permission from the Temple of Pharasma, my lord?" asks Viola.

[BuckGodot]

I am beginning to question the wisdom of doing so with our current reputation in town and with the local branch of the church. I think perhaps a stealthy visit might prove quicker and with less bureaucracy to deal with... A wise man once said, "The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few."

I had to check his alignment first... Heh heh.

[BuckGodot]

Perhaps then, rethinking that, we should set out tonight. Can we be ready?

[lostsole31]

"With your permission, Lord Damon," says Viola. "As you go I shall stay behind and keep Kendra company."

[BuckGodot]

Yes of course, Viola. Please do. Everyone who wishes to go then, gather what supplies you think you'll need and meet back here in one hour.

[lostsole31]

So, what do you do in that hour? Let me know what you take with you.

[BuckGodot]

He will gather together his things and insure that we have shovels and picks for digging. Just in case we need to open a mausoleum, he'll see if someone has a crowbar.

[lostsole31]

Amiri is the only one who has a shovel, and nobody has a pick, so she sort of volunteers herself for the task when you gather back together.

So, the group is yourself, Amiri, Gaye, and Dorn. Ready?

[BuckGodot]

Ready! Set! Let's go!

[lostsole31]

Behind the Funebrial is a large stretch of moorland reserved for interring Ravengro’s dead. Thanks to the Pharasmin church’s influence in town, Ravengro’s graveyard is large and well-tended. Tradition dictates that whenever one passes by (or through) the Restlands, one must always first draw a spiral on her heart as a sign of respect. The sign wards against the risk that the traveler’s passage will disturb the sleep of the departed. As a good Pharasmin, Éibhir knows this. Saint Dorn, despite worshipping Torag, understands the value of protection and makes this sign over his heart. Amiri and Gaye either don't know or don't care and make no sign.

Ebby, do you make this sign? Do you take any other precautions before you cross into the Restlands proper on this chilly evening?

[BuckGodot]

Yes. He will pause for a moment asking forgiveness and make the sign.

[lostsole31]

The false crypt mentioned in the professor’s journal is located in the northeast corner of the Restlands, near the junction of the paths known as the Eversleep and the Black Path. The crypt itself is a freestanding granite mausoleum, the roof of which is decorated with a pair of leering gargoyle statues. A single stone door with a rusty-looking lock sits in the mausoleum’s south facade, but an examination of the lock reveals that the lock is broken, its clasp melted by acid and then put back into place so that to casual observation the lock appears intact.

Within, a flight of stone steps leads down into the cold earth. As a dhampir, Gaye's eyesight can see in the dark. Surprisingly, Saint Dorn the Protector (human) admits that one of the blessings gave him was the darkvision of His dwarven children. He and Amiri carry torches. However, your wayfinder casts light on command (from itself only) and can be worn around your neck.

The steps lead to a large crypt lined with empty niches—no dead are interred here. No one but Professor Lorrimor has been into this chamber for several decades, and his tracks remain obvious in the dust and dirt of the floor to you, and yet not to your comrades. Amiri, the tracker among you, can't really tell where they go since they are all about. What do you do?

[BuckGodot]

Sorry, I'm not getting what you're saying. Do I see where the tracks lead?

[lostsole31]

No, you don't. They loiter around, but you are told this by Amiri ... because she can track, and you can't. No, there is no indication of where they lead.

[BuckGodot]

Let's have a look around. If anyone wants, I have an extract which will heighten your senses to searching.

He will offer the extract of Heightened Awareness to anyone who would benefit the most.

[lostsole31]

Since you have already proven yourself to be quite observant - investigator that you are - do you use the extract on yourself?

[BuckGodot]

If no one else wants it, I will. Seeing as how I can only use 1 a day, I wanted to put it out there as available.

[lostsole31]

Your mind goes into a semi-trance a half-instant after drinking your extract, expanding your mind. ("Hey, dude, wanna go drop extracts?")

Just as you begin search the walls, you hear the faint scuttling of hundreds of tiny feet as two giant centipedes comes zipping out of cracks in the walls. You happen to know that giant centipedes carry a paralyzing poison (sound familiar?) with their bite. Do you discharge your heightened awareness extract for the bonus to Intiative?

[BuckGodot]

No, unless going into combat causes it to go away, I'll maintain it. I'm already pretty quick on my feet and the battle will last seconds and I may need it after.

[lostsole31]

Everyone except for you is taken unawares.

S-T17: A centipede comes rushing right out to attack Gaye and bites her in the left lower leg for 3, though it doesn't seem to slow her.

S-T12: Damon, you were so not expecting this for what was supposed to be grabbing equipment. Your hands are free and your shield is not readied. What do you do?

[BuckGodot]

He will draw his rapier and move to attack the closest centipede.

[lostsole31]

S-T12: Lord Damon draws his rapier and steps up to the one unaccompanied and thrusts, easily dispatching the creature. One remains.

End Round Surprise Round, Begin Round 2 ...

R1T21: St. Dorn goes to the aid of Gaye and splats it with his warhammer. Both centipedes are dead.

Combat Ends ...

"I am ashamed to admit it, Ms. Kóbor," says Dorn somewhat sheepishly, "but I was not prepared with any healing spells, but I will help bind your wound."

"It's okay," she says, nursing her arm. "The best you can do is to bind it. My father's heritage doesn't allow me to heal with holy energy, but it's reverse. Trying to use a healing spell on me would hurt me."

Dorn backs off, not even binding her wound. That's alright though, she does so for herself like a pro.

Ebby?

[BuckGodot]

If everyone is alright, then let's continue our search. Although I suggest having weapons at the ready. He will resume looking around.

[lostsole31]

There is a single large sarcophagus that sits in the deepest part of the crypt. It is within this sarcophagus that the hidden cache the professor was talking about is located. Although it appears that Professor Lorrimor had already raided the cache, he didn't take all of the tools kept here - a fair amount of potentially useful material is found here, including a dozen silver arrows, four sun rods, six flasks of holy water, and several things which detect as magic: 17 arrows (various), 2 potions, 4 scrolls.

There is also a thin darkwood case decorated with an image of a scarab with a single eye glaring from its back - the same design that appears on the cover of the Manual or the Order of the Palatine Eye among the books in the professor's collection. The darkwood case itself looks valuable, and contain items of potential interest - a spirit board with a brass planchette; and four iron and glass vials containing tiny, churning clouds of vapor. The vials sit in velvet-lined indentations to the left of the spirit board and planchette, along with six empty indentions—the professor made off with most of the vials but left these four behind.

[BuckGodot]

I'm not sure what these vials contain and I would caution against their use until we can identify them. Let us gather what remains and return to the house.

[lostsole31]

Which way home do you take? The one that is the most direct and comes south right through the middle of town to the Lorrimor House? or, the one that goes a little to the side down the west bank of the river, across the bridge, and a hook up to the Lorrimor House? The latter has very few homes and buidlings you'd pass in front of, though includes passing the Temple of Pharasma.

[BuckGodot]

Well, there is nothing suspicious about a group strolling through town in the evening, whilst trying to sneak past a church and getting caught might raise some flags... Through town seems best.

I suggest we take the most direct route through town. Just fly walk casually...

[lostsole31]

The group is heading back and you get to center by the gazebo, continuing south, when you hear a ruckus inside The Laughing Demon.

[BuckGodot]

My friends, it seems there may be a disturbance... Perhaps we should investigate. he says as he fits his shield but does not draw his weapon and heads for the door...

[lostsole31]

It's Alewalker in a bar fight with a couple of farmers. Fight's over. Didn't last long.

A terrified Zokar sees you right off and speeds to you. "Do something," he pleads, "please."

[BuckGodot]

What seems to be the trouble? he asks.

[lostsole31]

"He started a fight, broke a chair on a farmer, smashed a table. I told him he had to leave, and that was my bouncer he just beat up."

[BuckGodot]

In a calm and reassuring voice he replies, We'll speak with him... Entering, he looks Alewalker...

[BuckGodot]

He crosses to Alewalker and says, We have competed our business. Will you accompany us back to the house? It is late and there is greater safety in numbers.

[lostsole31]

He doesn't even look at you, but stars across at the bar wall and takes a drink of his tankard. "Not my business, not my concern."

He turns, his draping hood not really looking at you to get a great look but more your direction. "I'm told you're a famous swordsman, Mister Damon. I'm sure you can protect the little goslings in this dangerous town getting from this place the couple hundred yards or so down the center of town to your soft bed."

He returns more face-forward, and continues drinking.

[BuckGodot]

The proprietor has clearly indicated he does not want you here any longer. There is drink to be found at the house if you'd like. You are not advancing our reputation with this behaviour. Why don't you come back with us.

[lostsole31]

Paying you no mind, he reaches over the bar to grab a pitcher and pour some of the contents into what sounds like an empty tankard. He sets the pitcher down next to him. He continues to drink. He hasn't looked at you once.

[BuckGodot]

He turns to look and see that the others are with him...

[lostsole31]

You look back for them, and that body language is enough for them to come forward to have your back (maybe a little nervously).

[BuckGodot]

Loudly, he beginsMy friends! Enough of tempers and disagreements! Enough violence has been seen tonight! Let us have some entertainment! and he launches into a fanciful tale.

He knows that he and quite possibly the 3 of them are no match for Alewalkers combat style and he hopes that Alewalker does not have the resistance to withstand his mental prowess so the intention here is to Fascinate Alewalker and Suggest that he go home for the night. He is aware that his physical combat prowess may be needed by the party and he doesn't want to ask him to leave...

[lostsole31]

Alewalker claps heartily, as the rest of the patrons clomp and cheer at the fine tale you gave.

He turns to the bar and continues drinking when you're done.

[BuckGodot]

Turning, he looks for Zokar. Crossing to him he says, He seems peaceful enough now. Send me notice of your damages and I'll see to it they are repaired and you are compensated. and turns to leave.

[lostsole31]

Do you go to bed, or do you stay up to play angry parent?

[BuckGodot]

He will turn in. It's been a stressful night... He'll ask about it in the morning.

Neutral Good... Damages paid for...Enabler... Nope! Not taking the bait... LOL

[lostsole31]

The next morning, breakfast ... there is an awkwardness with Alewalker there. Amiri, Dorn, and Gaye are not sure how to feel. Viola senses tension. Kendra is oblivious. Alewalker is either oblivious or doesn't care, but focuses on eating his food ... his fork going under his hood - as he has his head bent over as is wont to do at the table - and coming out again. Very rude in and of itself, or at least antisocial.

Ebby? Do anything? How does he react to the semi-quiet around the table? Right on to identify with the magical items after breakfast?

[BuckGodot]

He will tell a few jokes to get a more relaxed atmosphere and attempt to engage the others then on to Identify.

[lostsole31]

He knows a few jokes, and he tells them well, but he's no comedian. Still, he manages to lighten the mood. Though of course, Alewalker is still a cipher.

Viola is actually not only uninterested in what was taken, but she seems to specifically avoid even being part of the discussion about what was found. Rather, since you all are keeping her company she will use the morning to go out for personal errands. Alewalker goes outside and conducts really unorthodox training with all manner of small items that were never normally weapons: pots, bricks, stones large enough to hold in the hand (but not for throwing), hand spades, small clippers, etc.

So, it's you, Kendra, Amiri, Gaye, and Dorn. Here is what you have in addition to the 12 silver arrows, 4 sunrods, and 6 flasks of holy water ...
With read magic, the scrolls are:
scroll of detect undead
(2) scrolls of hide from undead
scroll of protection from evil

With identify:
(10) +1 arrows
(5) +1 ghost touch arrows
(5) potions of cure light wounds
(2) potions of lesser restoration
brass spirit planchette (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic-items/wondrous-items/wondrous-items/r-z/spirit-planchette)
(6) haunt siphons (http://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic-items/wondrous-items/wondrous-items/h-l/haunt-siphon)

[BuckGodot]

I myself will have little use for the arrows. I suggest that we divide the Haunt Siphons as evenly amongst us as we can and the healing potions to those that cannot heal themselves. The Restoration to Dorn. We can again divide the rods as evenly as we can as well. I have extracts that can cover the same abilities as the scrolls so you may pick those as you choose. Other suggestions?

[lostsole31]

Everyone looks at the arrows like lost children none of the five of you there have a bow. Also, Kendra is not going on any forays. You guys are the adventurers, not she.

Gaye will admit that a cure anything is toxic to her, though she would like to take one of the potions of restoration, and give up her CLW potion to Dorn ... as a means of moving about the battlefield to help those who have already dropped. Who gets the leftover CLW potion.

Each person gets a haunt siphon ... who gets the fifth and sixth?

Who gets use of the brass spirit planchette?

Everyone can get a vial of holy water. Who gets the the fifth and sixth?

Sunrods ... one a person.

Gaye and Dorn can each take a scroll of hide from undead. Gaye with the scroll of detect undead. Dorn with the scroll of protection from evil.

Answer the questions above. How does the above sound?

[BuckGodot]

He will distribute the items as noted. Keeping the extra items himself, he will go in search of Alewalker and Viola.

[lostsole31]

Alewalker's outside ...

[BuckGodot]

So I go there and give him his stuff... LOL

Here... He'll give him a breakdown of what there is. If he doesn't want anything Ebby will keep it.

[lostsole31]

"Worth a lot of coin," he says. "You obviously want something in return. What is it?"

[BuckGodot]

I want nothing in exchange but your friendship. Will you aid us on this quest?

[lostsole31]

"You can't buy friendship, and you're a fool if you think you can," he says. "Otherwise, someone with a bigger purse might come along and prove a bigger friend. I might consider it pay, though. What is this mission ... quest ... thing?"

[BuckGodot]

I meant only that i enjoyed our comradeship in the past and desired to have it again, not that it was for sale. The quest into the prison, to research the Professors death and resolve the alleged haunting?

[lostsole31]

"Well? Which is it? Sounds like you're doing a three-ring circus."

[BuckGodot]

The hope is, by resolving one, we resolve all.

[lostsole31]

He tenses up and stands full height. "Let me make this clear. You are paying me to do a job, even if you want to call it something else for other reasons. I don't take 'retainer jobs' ... you need to clearly delineate a specific, achievable, measurable goal. Not a bunch of stuff on an 'as needed basis' ... not 'general services in a period of time'... no matter what magic you're offering me. What you've offered is nice, but if you can't tell me what it is we're doing other than hoping it'll hash itself out, we can't do business."

[BuckGodot]

This was all made clear in the first meeting when we discussed the journals and books. We are attempting to prevent the Whispering Way from achieving whatever it is they seek at Harrowstone. It appears certain to me that they had a hand in killing the Professor, but I want confirmation. They are very interested in someone who was killed in the riot at the prison, and we must find out who before they. If terms for your services must be set, then name them and let us be done with it. I have one more outlet I wish to investigate, one Jominda Fallenbridge, before we begin. I must seek out Viola to determine if she wishes to have any of these implements in her defense of Ms. Lorrimor, so let us conclude our business transaction.

[lostsole31]

"This'll suit me as an acceptance of offer," says Alewalker, "after that since you might be exploring, standard share of treasure. I don't care about other people's 'vital equipment.' None of this 'party share' business some companies do, except to hold onto indivisible fractions. If the group wants to pitch in for something, that's up to each member of the group. Open-ended tab at Rusty Dragon, and I promise any fights will go outside or I pay for any damages if I am the one who started said fight. I am not commanded to do such-and-so. I am tasked with aiding in this investigation by a business partner, not an employer, as I am an independent contractor.

"These arrows I have received are effectively stolen property, if I am not mistaken; you are responsible for double-market value remuneration if any member of law enforcement or the church demands their return. It is understood that you, as the contracting party simply provided these objects for my aid in this investigation. I do not know where they come from, how you got them, and I don't need to tell you what happens if you betray me.

"Twelve hours a day are mine. Time spent on watch in hostile territory is not time that is mine ... eight hours of rest and four hours discretionary. Watch order will be rotating. My life choices will not be negatively impacted by standing eternal midwatches just because you might have arcanists or other 'rest-based high-maintenance' types. Otherwise, you are giving me hours to my personal time.

"In return, I may not be as smart as most of you but I will lend my expertise - muscle and experience, even combat training, it would seem - to this. Agreed, Mister Damon?"

[BuckGodot]

Agreed. I offer my hand to shake on it.

[lostsole31]

"Agreed, then." He doesn't offer his hand, but immediately takes the arrows inside.

[BuckGodot]

Okay. Ebby will go in search of Viola next. If he doesn't find her, he'll go back and find Gaye.

[lostsole31]

With a cursory sweep, Ebby will not find Viola, so to Gaye ...

[BuckGodot]

Approaching her, he bows low,I would be honoured if you would join me for a small excursion. If you are not busy, would you care to accompany me to find Jominda Fallenbridge?

[lostsole31]

She is more than happy to accept your offer.

As you take the short walk into town, once again there are five Varisian girls, but this time they are different than the ones you saw before. They do the same, almost impossibly-precise jump rope chant with the creepy nursery rhyme as before. You look to Gaye to see if she sees what you do (she is talking about something inane and looking forward, not to the side), but then you sense something ... off.

You look back. The five little girls have all stopped - the rope lying in the ground except for the bitter ends held by two of their number - and they are staring at you. They aren't all looking at you, no staring. In a stillness so different from the morning hustle of everyone else around where people move by just perfectly, these five small statues of flesh look on with an unnerving gaze. There is even a vaguely quieter feel than before, though the bustle of the adults is no less (and no different) than normal. Though they do not move, there is this feeling from you that they are as they were during the skipping song ... strangely connected. And intent on you.

[BuckGodot]

Gaye, are you seeing this? he says without taking his eyes from the girls...

[lostsole31]

"Seeing what?" she asks and turns her head ... just as a horse and cart go by, blocking the view.

Immediately after that passes, there aren't even any Varisian girls at play ... or anywhere except a little down the path where there are a lot of children outside.

[BuckGodot]

Doing the exact opposite of what typically happens in the movies (Shrugging and going huh... and keeping it to himself) he will explain in detail exactly what he saw to her...

[lostsole31]

She listens, slowly nodding. "I see. Do you know if anyone else saw this?"

[BuckGodot]

I would say no, as the disappearance of the girls would have caused some alarm...

[lostsole31]

"Well," she says, thinking for a few seconds. "I would say .... keep us notified of any other things you see that are out of the ordinary."

You get to Jominda's Apothecary and go inside. Jominda Fallenbridge keeps a well-stocked supply of pharmacological provisions, both herbal and alchemical. She is a woman of around 30 years, not unattractive. "May I help you?"

[BuckGodot]

Bowing low, he says Good day, M'Lady. I'm looking for some very rare mixtures.I hear tell that you are the woman with the knowledge I seek.

[lostsole31]

"Umm. Okay. What are you looking for?"

[BuckGodot]

Can you show me something in a sleeping draught? he says with a wink and a nod...

[lostsole31]

She looks at you, confused, "Are you sure you need a sleeping aid? It looks like you're having trouble keeping your eyes open ... and you're about to nod off."

[BuckGodot]

He smiles and chuckles...No, M'Lady. It's not for me. I need it for someone else... Someone who needs a very deep sleep.

[lostsole31]

She looks in confusion. "I need some more detail if I am to get the right medicine. Where and who is this person? What is the problem? What symptoms have they been having? ..."

[BuckGodot]

Hmmm. Perhaps I was mistaken. I was told you were the person to come to for such things. Maybe it was a different shop. Thank you for your time... he turns to Gaye and winks and starts for the door.

[lostsole31]

"Excuse me, Lord Damon?" she asks, visible bemused. "What were you looking for that I can't help with? Can I direct you in the right way?" :smallconfused:

Gaye looks at you with the same perplexed look, but doesn't say anything, trusting you have some reason. :smallconfused:

[BuckGodot]

Well, I was told if I was in need of something more... subtle? That I could come here.

[lostsole31]

She stands stock still for a second, then collects herself. She then walks over to the door. It seems like she is getting ready to lock the door. Instead, she turns the knob and pulls the door open, letting the chilly winter air in and stands there. She speaks as she fishes a whistle from the wide pocket of her apron. "I do not know what low-bowing, mincing dandies like you purchase at less reputable establishments you might find in Karcau or Caliphas. We of Ravengro do not entertain the bored and decadent elite with drugs and other pharmaceutical ... diversions. Your business is not welcome here. If you suffer true distress, may the Temple of Pharasma give you the succor you need. Leave my shop, but your indiscretion remains here. If you have issue with this, I can call the sheriff, and all may be reminded of just why we here in the Palatinates got rid of our nobles." :smallmad:

[BuckGodot]

So close... But not close enough it seems... And problem solved. He will turn to the door and walk towards it...

My apologies, M'Lady. It seems my intent was misconstrued. We will bid you good day.

He smiles and leaves...

[lostsole31]

Lady Gaye does not take your arm on the exit. She nods a civil (distraught) goodbye to Ms. Fallenbridge and then once outside she says and nods, "I have business back at the house that needs tending. I will take my leave of you."

[BuckGodot]

My apologies, Gaye. I had not thought this through before coming here. I did not mean to waste your time.

[lostsole31]

She heads back towards the house.

What do you do?

[BuckGodot]

Feeling quite the fool, he will stop in the tavern for a bite and then head back to the house.

[lostsole31]

From people's reactions to him (including Zokar), the immensely super-likable Lord Damon gets the distinct feeling that he is ... disliked. He does hear an interesting rumor while eating alone. Stories that Harrowstone is haunted are just that - stories. The ruins are still dangerous, but what folks thinks are ghosts are the only nasty vermin that live there. Of course, old-timers eating and drinking and babbling about such matters aren't necessarily reliable fonts of information.

[BuckGodot]

He will make note of the stories and head back to the house.

[lostsole31]

You get back to the house. Viola has since returned and is in the library tutoring Gaye on spell theory. Alewalker is in the back doing combat training with St Dorn and Amiri. These things will take until it is time for folks to wash up and ready for dinner. Do you do anything special in the meantime?

[BuckGodot]

I will verify I have all my extracts ready and prepared and then take some time to work out on my own.

[lostsole31]

Of course, what that means in genius code is that Ebby prepares his extracts, and in doing so his nutter-mad scientist brain gets inspired about this or that and he spends the remainder of the day deep in alchemical formulae, doing some research with what little alchemical work is in Lorrimor's library, and otherwise intellectually puttering about.

Dinner is just being served and there is a knock at the door. Viola answers the door and then comes to Lord Damon. She seems guarded and says, "Lord Damon, there is a gentleman just inside the foyer that would speak with you."

[BuckGodot]

Muttering to himself... Rattus norvegicus rodentia muridae... Ah, here we are... Black and brown. Eats electricity... Looking up at her, What's that my dear? Ah yes... Well, show him in... He goes back to his musings... Did you know Viola, that if rats were the size of Ravengro schoolchildren, they would wipe us out in a week!

[lostsole31]

She comes back in. "He says he'll wait in the foyer. It sounds like something sensitive."

With that, she heads the other way to help Kendra with final preps for dinner.

[BuckGodot]

Blast it... He rises and heads towards the foyer.