ylvathrall's Carrion Crown [IC]

[ylvathrall]

It's a cold, grey morning the day that the Professor is to be buried, a chill wind blowing from the northeast. You easily find your way to the path that leads to the graveyard, a large cemetery called the Restlands. The casket is resting on the cobblestones at the entrance to the Restlands when you arrive, finding no one else present save a tall, pale woman in mourning black, and a handful of people dribbling in along with you. The casket itself is dark wood with silver fittings, finely made, large enough for four to six people to stand alongside it - it looks expensive, but in an understated way.

The woman present turns to you as you start to arrive, but waits until five are gathered before walking up. "I am Kendra Lorrimor, Professor Lorrimor's daughter," she says. "I am glad, if such a word can be uttered this day, to see you arrive - I am saddened that none of his other friends from afar have made the journey to lay him to rest. Please, are any among you willing and able to serve as the pallbearers? I hate to ask such a thing, but he must be carried to the...the grave." She all but chokes as she says the final word.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Kristoph steps forward immediately and nods his head to Kendra. Making the spiral-sign of Pharasma with his right hand over his chest, he volunteers, saying, "Miss Lorrimor, I will help carry your father to his final rest." He then takes the position beside where the late professor's right shoulder would be and looks expectantly at the others gathered nearby. "I would not live today if not for the Professor - surely the Lady of Graves will judge him worthy of peace and honor in the afterlife. Who else will help me bear his body to its rest?"

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Diplomacy (1d20+8)[11] to console Kendra Lorrimor and inspire others to help as pallbearers.

[Ryton]

Tyreza makes her way slowly down the path toward the Restlands. As she walks, she absentmindedly reaches into a scarf and pulls out a deck of cards, which she shuffles. She pulls a card out from the deck at random, and scrutinizes it as she continues on her way. "The Carnival. A card associated with arcane power. Usually, you foretell trickery. Illusions." She replaces the card and stares at the deck for a moment. "Are you trying to make me feel better? Give me hope that perhaps he isn't really gone?" She then glances around at her somber surroundings as she stows the deck back into a pocket as she continues on her way. "If that is your intent, you are doing a rather poor job of it."



As she reaches the casket, Tyreza stops and listens to Kendra before putting a hand to her chest and inclining her head politely. "I am sorry for your loss, Lady Lorrimor. My people owed your father a great debt. As their chosen representative, it would be my honor to bear your father on his final journey."

Spoiler: OoC

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I rolled for the Harrow card in the OoC thread to be used with the Harrowed feat; once today Tyreza can add a +2 to any Wisdom based check, before or after rolling, but before results are revealed.

[Farmerbink]

A tall, pale-skinned man approaches next. He masks his surprise at the sparse showing and stands gathered with the others, quietly whistling a somber dirge. Simple niceties utter forth as he interrupts the wordless tune with an introduction as a few others join them. The tune returns again after each greeting, waiting for an officiant to arrive, or pallbearers, or something.

When the woman speaks up, he attends her deliberately. With a simple nod of acknowledgment, he accepts her request and moves to the other side of the casket. Frowning in thought, he almost misses Kristoph's question, but catches enough of it to respond. "I am called Elian, and it will be my distinct honor to pay tribute to the Professor thus." He's wiry, but athletic, with a lean frame that doesn't suggest noteworthy strength. Still, that's why there are handles for 6.

He doesn't comment on the size of their small company. Not even enough to fully man the casket. His eyes rise to the graveyard some distance away. This may be strenuous.

[QuidEst]

Ustalav. Pleasant enough in the bigger cities, if a bit morbid. Lots of countesses. Yelis wasn't exactly thrilled to be out in the sticks, but Lorrimor had been a friend. If it were just that, he'd probably have let Pharasma's hospitality take care of things better than his attendance could have, but the man had requested him specifically pre-posthumously. So, here he was, all dressed up in the human body he'd used for this area. No good showing up as somebody else and having to explain the whole shapeshifting business. Not a bad model- a tall man with drawn features and a weathered look that Yelis's city living certainly wouldn't have acquired. He had a good hat, too. Beside him, Waya trotted along placidly. She was bright enough to know when to play along, although he couldn't really say if she knew that this wasn't just another of the usual cons. Probably; he was being quieter than usual. He reached over and scritched her behind the ears, as much for his own sake as for hers.

Ah, right. Lorrimor's daughter. He forced an intentionally hollow smile (never look too cheery at a funeral), and nodded. "Of course. I… your father was a good man, and it's the least I can do." He took his traveler's hat off. "It's Yelis- and Waya." His 'dog' looked over at the mention of her name.

[Starbin]

Bizkut - Halfling Rager

A small cloaked figure arrived to join the four others standing near a casket. The figure pulled back the hood, revealing a weathered Halfling who had obviously spent a great deal of time outside. He wore a full worn pack, next to a giant blade sticking above his shoulders. Hazel eyes peered out from beneath a mop of unkempt hair. A long scar ran across his left cheek, marring an otherwise somewhat cherubic face. He nodded to the others as the small group stood in awkward silence for a moment.

After a few moments, a grief-stricken woman walked up to them. “I am Kendra Lorrimor, Professor Lorrimor's daughter. I am glad, if such a word can be uttered this day, to see you arrive - I am saddened that none of his other friends from afar have made the journey to lay him to rest. Please, are any among you willing and able to serve as the pallbearers? I hate to ask such a thing, but he must be carried to the...the grave."

One by one, the others gathered around joined the first volunteer - a tall Knight with elven features. The Halfling stared at the group, then to the coffin, and back to the woman. He slowly nodded. ”Imma help, too.”

The diminutive man walked over to the front. He had to extend his arms fully to reach the bottom of the coffin, and would need to walk on the tips of his toes to provide any help. But if it bothered it embarrassed him, he didn’t say a word.

[ylvathrall]

"Thank you all so much," Kendra says, making her way to the head of the procession. "Father Grimburrow and the gravediggers are waiting at the plot - it is the local custom that they not accompany us." A handful of others, consisting of three aged men, a boy, and a middle-aged woman, approach during this time, taking up positions behind the coffin.

Finally, you start down the road into the Restlands - only to be interrupted shortly after you start walking. In front of you, a group of what look like farmers are gathered with farming tools they hold like improvised weapons. The apparent leader, a grizzled man who has several visible scars and looks like life has chewed him up and spat him out, steps forward.

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

[QuidEst]

Yelis keeps holding on to the coffin. "Down, girl, these nice gentlemen just want to talk," he says quietly to Waya. "Ah, my. I think you may be missing a few details! Or perhaps I am," he declares warmly to the others. "You see this burly gentleman? He's a well-respected Pharasmin, seeing to the burial of his close friend. Now, I can understand if that alone doesn't persuade you; the Lady of Graves doesn't always interpose for every funeral procession somebody interrupts. But, I myself am a Desnan healer-" Here, he tugged on a chain around his neck to pull out a carved butterfly symbol of the goddess of travelers and luck. "A Desnan who has traveled a very long way, only to find you blocking the road. Bad luck, that. Still, maybe I'm the one missing something- perhaps you've got another goddess to put in a good word for you?" He looked around at the assembled group. He was pretty sure this counted as a good deed, so he felt okay invoking Desna's name despite the four other holy symbols he had on him. He wasn't foolhardy enough to do something like that when swindling somebody.

[Farmerbink]

Elian hisses quietly as he watches the group approach-clearly not intending to pay their respects. "Indeed, I think you must be mistaken, friend. Surely that decision is to be made by the local clergy? Where is Father Grimburrow? I cannot imagine that you would be so callous to go behind his back to intimidate the last living kin of the recently deceased!"

Spoiler: OOC

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So this is intended to be a little tongue-in-cheek way for Elian to call upon the villager's better nature. I'm not sure if bluff or diplomacy better applies, but bother at +8: (1d20+8)[12] I guess diplomacy to improve the leader's attitude?

[Starbin]

Bizkut - Halfling Rager

The halfling glared at the men stopping them, still straining to hold his end of the coffin up. He muttered ”Buncha crap...” as he watched the men carefully. If they wanted violence, it was a drawn blade away ...

---

OOC - Sense Motive - (1d20+7)[18] vs farmers. Checking to see if a fight is inevitable.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Kristoph goes still as the townsfolk confront them and listens to the others respond. Still holding the heavy coffin, he looks at the leader of the farmers and says, "Unless you bring Father Grimburrow back here and he denies us entry or you wish to attack men and women who have traveled here to mourn - and plan to attack us in front of the daughter of the deceased, no less - please step aside. This coffin is not light and we wish you and your friends no ill will. Besides, the Restlands is exactly where you want the late Professor to be interred - it is consecrated to the Lady of Graves and she keeps the dead there. You do not wish to confront the professor as a restless spirit, do you?" His expression is grim as he stares at the man, but his tone remains one of respectful pleading as he waits for them to allow the party to pass with their burden.

Spoiler: Diplomacy

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(1d20+8)[14]

[Ryton]

Tyreza adjusts her kapenia while maintaining her grip on the casket. "Do they not know that misfortune befalls those who disrupt funerals?" she asks, to no one in particular.

[ylvathrall]

The farmers look at each other. One stammers out something about suddenly remembering an obligation and hurries off. As though this were the break in a dam, the others quickly scatter, leaving only the apparent leader. He looks at you, his expression odd, and then nods like a fencer acknowledging a touch before silently moving off down the road.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Kristoph nods and says, "Good - I'm glad we could get them to see reason. Let's go - we owe the Professor a respectful burial and Father Grimburrow is waiting." Looking back to ensure everyone is ready, he begins walking solemnly, keeping the coffin level as he steadily moves towards the gravesite.

[Ryton]

Tyreza notes man's the gesture, but as she often fails to grasp even simple social cues, she can't even begin to make heads or tails of whatever it might mean. What was—I don't—a reading perhaps. Later.

She stares off after the man for a moment before seeming to remember where she is and what she's doing. She takes in Kristoph's statement, oddly seeming to mull it over for a moment before agreeing with a nod. "Yes. And I would rather we all not get caught out in the rain."

[Farmerbink]

Elian nods from his position on the front end of the coffin. "Indeed. That could have gone much worse." He wonders silently for a moment, recalling a few of his less-than-pleasant experiences with the superstitious lot of Ustalav. As they pass where the mob was gathered moments before, he sighs aloud. "Why do I feel like we're going to see him again?" the lean man muses sullenly. His mood certainly not improved by the brief encounter, he trudges onward, careful to set a pace the rest have no trouble maintaining.

[QuidEst]

Yelis tucked the holy symbol back where he'd pulled it from. "There's plenty of superstition around messing with travelers- rules of hospitality and all. Desnan travelers, even more so." Yelis matched the pace of the others, falling silent again. Waya trotted along, more or less filling the unoccupied sixth spot around the casket and providing moral if not physical support.

[Starbin]

Spoiler: RPoL

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DM

The group continues its somber procession through the Restlands, and eventually reaches the gravesite. A lean, tired-looking man is standing there beside the hole, wearing garments of Pharasma's faithful. Two burly looking men are standing with him, carrying shovels. The area is neat and the grass well groomed; it seems this is one of the higher-class portions of the graveyard.

---

Father Grimburrow

"Well met on this sorrowful day, Miss Lorrimor," the priest says to Kendra. "Thank you for bearing the weight on your shoulders, strangers. It is good to see how much beloved the Professor was in foreign lands as well as in his own homeland. Please, lower the casket, and then there will be a moment for those gathered to speak a few words in memoriam before the final rites are conducted."

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza nods in assent to the priest's instruction, and attempts to lower the casket in sync with the other impromptu pallbearers.

---

Bizkut

The Halfling watched the farmers depart, forcing himself to relax. As the group started to walk again, he reached up and found the coffin was too far above his head to reach. Frowning at the others, he dropped his arms silent and followed, walking beneath the coffin. When they reached the gravesite, he moved out to join the others, standing to the side as the priest greeted them. He nodded to the man’s thanks and joined the female.

---

Kristoph

Kristoph carefully helps to lower the coffin to the ground before turning to face the cleric and tracing the sign of Pharasma's spiral on his chest. "Greetings, Father. Thank you for officiating today. The blessings of the Lady of Graves are appreciated during this dark time," he says as he moves forward to kneel before the priest (for the traditional blessing of the faithful of Pharasma).

---

Yelis

Yelis nodded somberly and lowered the casket with the others. He was already considering what he could possibly say. Strangely, none of this had seemed entirely… real. He hadn't seen the professor in a while, so it had just felt like that was continuing. But, eulogizing about him? That got through, more than the other stuff had.

---

Elian

Elian inclines his head respectfully to the clergyman. He casts a wary glance back down the road where the last vestiges of what might have been the beginning of a mob are dispersing into the village. We might have different definitions of beloved, he wonders silently after helping to carefully lower the professor to his final resting place. At least they did not wait until now to make their move.

---

Yelis

Yelis stepped forward. Nobody ever wanted to be the first to speak, so he'd do it. "Professor Lorrimor was a good man. He didn't go about it in all the same ways many good men do, but he still strove to make the world a better place. He was a good friend as well; I am proud to have known him, and to have worked for him." After speaking, Yelis bowed his head respectfully and stepped back.

---

Kristoph

Kristoph nods solemnly and steps forward. Speaking to the few people gathered there but focusing on Kendra Lorrimor, he says, "I am here today due to Professor Lorrimor's heroics. Several years ago I was blessed to travel with this man, and it was his knowledge of the great threat posed by the restless dead that led to us take shelter before being overwhelmed one night on the road. There is great honor in scholarship such as his, for it helps to shine some light into the dark. His wit and humor that evening also showed me that there is joy to be had in this life, if we are willing to grasp for it, even in times of great trial. Today we face the future without him in it, and though it may seem darker for that, I believe he would encourage us. Instead of mourning for him, let us celebrate the profound ways he touched each of us. We can carry the light in his stead, if we remain brave and steadfast.

May Pharasma judge him kindly, for he has earned rest and peace in the life to come."

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza steps forward in turn, though it seems she does so more out of obligation than desire. She stares down and her hands as she speaks, not looking at the small crowd. "I only met the Professor but once. He was a selfless and brave traveler. The world is lesser for his travels having ended. He was kind to those who..." Her voice trails off and Tyreza is back in position beside the coffin before it becomes apparent that she has finished speaking.

---

Bizkut

The Halfling stood silently, listening to the others speak about the Professor. He thought back to his own relationship with the man, questioning whether he had anything worth sharing. Suddenly, he was aware of a lull, an uncomfortable silence that felt louder than a shouting mob. He glanced around, joining the others in silent speculation about who might speak next. When nobody stepped forward, he cleared his throat and moved to the coffin.

“Hey, P’fesser. It’s Bizkut. Thanks fer th’job ... n’ treatin’ me like people. Sorry yer dead, cuz Imma miss th’work.

N’ you, I spose.’ Bye, P’fesser.”

Bizkut returned to the group gaze straight ahead.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:57, Fri 31 Jan.

---

Elian

Just when it seemed he had decided to keep his peace, the lithe, pale-skinned gentleman stepped forward at last. For a few long moments, he stands over the open grave, soon to be his late friend's final resting place. He struggles for a few more seconds over the emotion that glistens openly on his face as tears gently roll down his cheeks towards the sod.

"As you said, friend Kristoph, I owe Professor Lorrimor a debt it now seems will never be repaid. Though the world no doubt will shine a little less brightly for his departure, it is undeniable that he left ... goodness in his wake. Where two have spoken of life he granted, surely others remain silent. It falls on us, now, to press onward, carrying his legacy of acceptance, virtue, and scholarship into the days beyond his own story's end. I..." He chokes again, and takes a long slow breath to steel himself.

"I accept this burden, gladly, in memory of the man who gave me friendship where the world denied it." For a moment it looks like he might have more to say, but he lowers his head with a quiet shudder, allowing two fat tears to drip from his nose to the closed lid of the casket. He gently wipes away the dampness with a loving expression and lets his hand linger heavily on the lacquered wood. Finally, he steps down from the dais. Gathered once more with the rest of the friends and family, he looks to Father Grimburrow and Kendra Lorrimor for guidance.

---

Kendra Lorrimor

Finally, Kendra steps up to the side of the grave. "In the wake of my father's passing, we are all left the lesser," she says softly, voice choked. "But we must carry on, we must find our peace in this life despite the hole that is left in it. He would not want us to wallow in our grief, but rather, to move forward and carry on his legacy. There is no doubt that we will all feel the ache of his absence in the days to come, just as there is no doubt that we will remember him with the utmost love and honor."

She, too, weeps a few tears onto the casket, and has to pause as her throat clenches. But after a few moments she continues. "I'll miss you, Father. Good night."

---

Father Grimburrow

The priest raises his holy symbol and intones a prayer as the gravediggers begin to bury the casket. He then turns to Kristoph and makes the sign of the spiral over him. "Go in peace, child," he says. "The Professor's will shall be read at his home, I am told."

---

Yelis

Yelis shuffled out with the other mourners after the service, looking to the others to see if they were coming or still had business. Graveyards always made him uncomfortable- mortality tended to rest a little heavy on your shoulders in them. "Good job behaving during the ceremony," he told Waya, pulling a treat out of the bags she had strapped on and giving it to her.

---

Elian

Elian waits near the dais to welcome Kendra back to the ground, lifting his hand to give her the opportunity of stability. "I do not know if you remember me," he begins, smiling warmly and comfortingly, "You were but a young girl when last your father and I met face to face. I am deeply saddened to have missed the intervening years, and sincerely hope we are able to make up somewhat for lost time. May I escort you home?"

He offers the young woman an arm with the formal etiquette of the well-born, and if accepted acts as guide though he lets her direct their steps. "I do wish-" he begins, but cuts the comment short. He shakes his head, knowing the words are but repetitions and have no power to dispel the unrest lurking beneath the surface. "They say time heals all wounds. Rarely do they say how much time." He offers her a thing, knowing smile. "Know that you are free to take all the time you need."

---

Kristoph

Father Grimburrow:
"The Professor's will shall be read at his home, I am told."

Kristoph returns the sign of the spiral and then bows from the waist. "Father, did the Professor not leave everything to his daughter? Surely he didn't leave anything to anyone else..." he trails off, his question unanswered. Turning to watch the others leave he sighs and follows, his thoughts furiously running in futile circles.

---

Tyreza Thoron

For a while, Tyreza seems lost in her thoughts, her cards back in her hands being drawn and shuffled seemingly absentmindedly, but her attention returns as she hears Father Grimburrow mention the will, but she tilts her head curiously at Kristoph's question. "I was named in the will. That is why I am here. How he knew I had been chosen to answer his summons, I do not know. It was not the summons I expected, and nor was it the summons I wanted. But then, fate rarely deals us the cards we desire." She looks up from the cards as she finishes speaking, making full eye contact with Kristoph for the first time, her gaze unusually focused, as though it is her first time seeing him, not as though they had both pallbearers and attended a funeral together.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:19, Fri 31 Jan.

---

Bizkut

Bizkut waited for the funeral to end. Afterwards, he began to shift awkwardly from foot to foot, wondering what to do next. When the priest mentioned something about the Professor’s will, the Halfling looked confused. How could the Professor’s will be around still?

Frowning, he followed the others quietly.

---

Kristoph

Kristoph returns the look of the woman shuffling a harrow deck with a genuine smile that in other circumstances might light up a room. "My name is Kristoph - while we helped to carry the Professor to his rest together, I did not catch your name. While we walk back to his home, would you like to talk?" He then offers his arm in a manner very accustomed to the etiquette of polite society and waits to see her reaction.

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza seems momentarily puzzled by Kristoph's request, then she pulls a card from her deck and holds it at arm's length, apparently comparing Kristoph and the results of her draw. "The Snakebite; inverted. Normally an ill omen, but in this instance it speaks of discovery or new beginnings, an open mind." She blinks for a moment, then offers Kristoph a warm smile as she returns the card, and then accepts his arm. "My name is Tyreza. I should warn you though, I am generally considered rather poor company—I tend to be caught up in the intricacies of the past and the possibilities of the future, leaving the present overlooked. If you don't mind my asking, how did you know the Professor, Kristoph?"

---

Kristoph

As Tyreza inspects her card Kristoph remains still, watching her but patiently waiting for her to take his arm. Once she does he seems to relax a bit as they begin walking towards the Lorrimor house. "I am usually something of an outcast myself. The church of Pharasma does not formally recognize a knightly order, but it is to the Lady of Graves that I give my allegiance. Most of the time the clergy is not as polite as Father Grimburrow just was...

I met the Professor on a trip through Virlych to Lastwall. We chanced upon each other and began walking together. That evening a band of zombies approached - he noticed them before me and helped me to find shelter. The zombies passed us by that night instead of eating our brains. I'm here today because of his knowledge and his decision to travel with me." Kristoph says, his eyes distant as he sees the memory in his mind. "So, you seem rather attached to that Harrow Deck. Are you a seer of sorts? Pharasma is the goddess of prophecy and fate, so I tend to have an interest in such things, even if my gifts lie elsewhere."

---

Yelis

Yelis leaned over, peering closer at the deck. "Well, just let me know if there's any funny business with the Rabbit Prince, all right?" he said, reflexively pulling out his Desnan holy symbol to rub for good luck. He tucked it back, nodding to them. "The name's Yelis, by the way. I worked for the Professor a couple years ago."

---

Elian

Arm in arm with Kendra, Elian calls out to the Halfling, looking quite out of place.

"Come, sir. Any friend to the professor is a friend of mine, and he would not have sent for you were you not his friend. Bizkut, yes? My name is Elian, and if you will join us, it will be my distinct pleasure to meet you." Despite the diminutive fellow's rough appearance, Elian gives every impression of meaning his words.

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza nods gently, her gaze somewhat vacant. "In the last century, many diviners have lost faith in the Lady of Mysteries, but I have found sometimes it is the purpose of knowledge to not be shared. Thus I find myself seeking the guidance of Pharasma just as readily as I trust in the distant protection of Desna. But yes, I am a seer, though I am still honing my craft. This deck has been in my family for many generations, and now it's burden is mine."

Her eyebrows raise curiously at Yelis' comment. "Are... are you expecting a fight... umm, Yelis, you said?"

---

Yelis

Yelis gave a non-committal shrug. "Not at the moment, no. But, I mention because it's a card that…" He paused, searching for a moment. He looked a bit unsettled for a moment, but it passed. "Well, if it came up, you probably would assume a fight, right? Or, at a stretch, young nobility. But, you know how certain people might have a card that represents them? That one's mine. Just… thought you should know, so it doesn't muddy up predictions."

---

Bizkut

Bizkut was lost in thought as the group moved away from the grave. He didn’t answer Elian at first, not until his name registered. He blinked then stammered a response. “Um ... uh ... yeah. I’m ... the Bizkut. Yes. I’m comin’ ...” He looked like he was considering more, but abruptly stopped and focused on his feet.

---

Kristoph

"Well met, Yelis. Are you also a seer, or just interested in Harrow? I have never known someone to claim a card all to themselves," Kristoph responds as he listens to the two. "Your animal is well-behaved. Full wolf or part dog?" He continues to walk towards the Lorrimor residence, making small talk and getting to know the other travelers as they go.

---

Yelis

Yelis waved a hand dismissively. "Hardly all to myself- anything The Rabbit Prince stands for, it could still mean. It can already mean an actual prince or other young nobility- I'm just mentioning there are reasons it could also be referring to me. But no, I'm no practitioner myself." He reached over, scritching the wolf again. "Oh, Waya? I don't exactly have a detailed pedigree or anything, but she's a dog. Got some coyote in there as well, just to confuse matters." His smile is easy, but his tone a tad insistent.

Roll 1d20+9
Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Bluff result of 19.
In reality, Waya is a red wolf, which sits between a wolf and a coyote. She's not a dog.

This message was last edited by the player at 19:56, Tue 04 Feb.

---

Kristoph

Kristoph nods as Yelis speaks, politely declining to dig any deeper into the "dog's" breed. "She's a beautiful animal - I haven't seen her like in my limited travels," he says. "I lived my entire life in Ustalav and Lastwall, so I haven't seen too much of the world yet. During our trip the Professor spoke of some of the places he had visited. His dedication to home was apparent though. He always seemed to be drawn back to Ravengro. This is my first time in town, so while I hope to see it some before I leave it saddens me that I won't see it through his eyes..."

---

GM

Kendra remains sober and silent the rest of the way back to the manor, a stately old house of good size. Inside, every room is filled with packed shelves, containing mostly books but also some oddities and curios. On the second floor, she asks you to wait for Councillor Hearthmount to arrive. This takes about fifteen minutes, as he had some other business to attend to first.

---

Vashian Hearthmount

"Hello, Kendra, and company," the councillor, who was in the funeral procession, says with a slightly sour face. It's obvious he doesn't entirely approve of strangers being involved in this, but he doesn't say anything, focusing on Kendra as he produces a parchment scroll. "Be seated, please. Let us begin." He coughs slightly, then breaks the seal and starts to read:

"“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 set my hand and seal to this will in Ravengro on this
first day of Calistril, in the year 4707 AR.”

"Signed in witness, Gharen Muricar and Jominda Fallenbridge."

He returns the parchment to his pocket and clears his throat again. "I am so sorry for your loss, Miss Lorrimor. Please, do let me know if there's any way that I can help you in the coming days."

---

Bizkut

Bizkut, Halfling Urban Barbarian

Bizkut listened to the others, but had no real comments on dogs or other things. He continued to quietly observe all the way through the reading of the will. However, at the end, he coughed in surprise. “Um ... what’s ... what’s a toam? And why a month?” He leaned back against the wall, truly confused for the moment.

---

Yelis

"It just means a big, old book," Yelis said absently. One hundred platinum pieces? That was more money than he'd earned in the entirety of his employ with Lorrimor. It didn't allow him to accomplish what he had in mind, but it got him a good deal closer than he'd get from any other month of honest work. Plenty of dishonest work, too. "I imagine a month allows the most troublesome matters to crop up. Things to move, accounts to settle, and so on- all things it's good to have some friendly faces around for. Speaking of troublesome matters, we should probably buy a lock for the chest if the books are dangerous and going to be sitting around for a month."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:07, Wed 05 Feb.

---

Elian

Elian listens carefully, a patient expression on his ageless features. "I agree," he chimes in. "The timing seems perhaps oddly specific, but I can think of no better way to honor the Professor's legacy than to follow his final instructions and carry on his will. On a strictly practical level, 100 platinum is more than enough to settle... goodness, any debt I have ever considered, and then quite a bit more."

He shakes his head for a moment, the emotional weight warring with reason over the sudden windfall of funds. "I, for one, am happy to do as he has asked." He turns to the chest to inspect its latch and locking mechanism, hopeful that the solution to protecting its contents will be apparent. After a brief inspection, he turns to Kendra.

"Miss Lorrimor," he inclines his head respectfully before gesturing to the unlikely cadre of fellows. "I believe we are all at your service."

---

Kendra Lorrimor

"Thank you, friends. It means so much to me that you are here to help me adjust. I don't yet know what I will do - whether I will remain in Ravengro, or sell this house and move to the city." She sighs heavily. "I always thought I'd...have more time...."

---

GM

The chest of tomes is easily found in the Professor's bedroom, Kendra pointing out where it is stored. It has a lock, but is currently unlocked. Inside, you see three thick books with titles in strange languages, along with a smaller leather-bound journal. The journal is sitting on top, and pinned to it is a message saying "READ ME NOW."

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza has spent most of her time in the house perusing books at random, though does listen respectfully as the will is read. She follows the group to the Professor's room at a small distance, though once she sees the note on the journal, she quickly sidesteps the group and pulls it out of the chest, though she does take a moment to glance at the titles of the three times as she does so. She then opens the journal to the last entry in attempt to clean some insight into the Professor's final days.

---

GM

The other books have the following titles: Manual of the Order of the Palatine Eye, On Verified Madness, Serving Your Hunger, and The Umbral Leaves.

In the journal, several entries are circled in red, including the final one. It reads:

Tomorrow evening I return to the prison. It is imperative that the Way not finish. My caution has already cost me too much time. I am not sure what will happen if I am too late, but if my theory is correct, the entire town will be at risk. I don't have time to update my will, so I will leave this in the chest where it'll be sure to be found, should the worst come to pass.

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza glances up from the journal. "A number of these entries have been circled, presumably for emphasis." She reads the final entry out loud, then turns to the beginning to read aloud the other circled entries, but in the more reasonable start-to-finish manner, rather than continuing to work her way backwards.

---

Elian

Elian follows Kendra into the late professor's bedroom, momentarily content that the chest can be locked. As the other party members peruse its contents, he looks on with a wary expression. The script identifying the tomes catches his eye, but he turns and listens intently to Tyreza's recitation. "That sounds.... troublesome. This does indeed seem much like the worst has come to pass...."

He looks around the room with a suddenly intent gaze, openly appraising the other four named in Lorrimor's will, and gathered alongside his daughter, in his bedroom. "Crafty..." he mutters, with the beginning of a rueful smirk.

---

Kristoph

Kristoph remains standing once he arrives at the Lorrimor residence, watching the others mill about and listening to the discussion and finally the reading of the will. As it concludes he makes the sign of the spiral on is chest and bows his head for a moment. His lips can be seen mouthing a silent prayer as he considers the last request of the late Professor.

When the group moves upstairs to look at the chest and Tyreza begins reading Kristoph frowns, a degree of disapproval clear in his expression. He continues to listen in silence, however, before eventually making his way over to read the titles of the books.

Knowledge (Religion): Roll 1d20+5 to identify what books he can attempt.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:38, Wed 05 Feb.

---

GM

The journal entries that are circled begin near the start of the book, and are as follows:

Ten years ago: The Whispering Way is more than just a cabal of necromancers. I see that now. Undeath is their fountain of youth. Uncovering their motivation does not place me at ease as I thought it might. Their desire to be eternal simply makes them more dangerous.

Two months ago: It is as I had feared. The Way is interested in something here in Ravengro. But what could it be?

One month ago: Whatever the Way seeks, I am now convinced their goal is connected to Harrowstone. In retrospect, I suppose it all makes sense—the stories they tell about the ruins in town are certainly chilling enough. It may be time to investigate the ruins, but with everyone in town already being so worked up about them, I’d rather not let the others know about my curiosity—there’s plenty of folks hereabouts who already think I’m a demonologist or a witch or something. Ignorant fools.

Twenty days ago: It is confirmed. The Way seems quite interested in something—no, strike that—someone who was held in Harrowstone. But who, specifically, is the Way after? I need a list of everyone who died the night of the fire. Everyone. The Temple of Pharasma must have such a list.

Eighteen days ago: I see now just how ill prepared I was when I last set out for the Harrowstone. I am lucky to have returned at all. The ghosts, if indeed they were ghosts (for I did not find it prudent to investigate further) prevented me from transcribing the strange symbols I found etched along the foundation—hopefully on my next visit I will be more prepared. Thankfully, the necessary tools to defend against spirits are already here in Ravengro. I know that the church of Pharasma used to store them in a false crypt in the Restlands at the intersection between Eversleep and the Black Path. I am not certain if the current clergy even know of what their predecessors have hidden down below. If my luck holds, I should be able to slip in and out with a few borrowed items.

Seventeen days ago: Tomorrow evening I return to the prison. It is imperative the Way does not finish. My caution has already cost me too much time. I am not sure what will happen if I am too late, but if my theory is right, the entire town could be at risk. I don’t have time to update my will, so I’ll leave this in the chest where it’ll be sure to be found, should the worst come to pass.

---

Elian

As Tyreza continues to read aloud, Elian's expression runs the gamut from vaguely interested, to piqued curiosity, and finally settles somewhere between disgust and horror. "This bodes ill, indeed! Perhaps it is for the best that you are yet unsure what the next chapter in your life is to hold, miss Lorrimor. it seems.... The professor has left work unfinished- work he considered worth more than his life, even. Miss Lorrimor, this 'Harrowstone' is the nearby prison, yes?" At her acknowledgement, he looks around the room to gauge his companion's expressions. Whether worried, frightened, or just duly concerned, it seems the atmosphere of the room has suddenly become both more urgent and less reminiscent.

"I know not of your abilities," he begins, taking them in one by one. "But I suspect it is no coincidence that the professor chose us five in particular. Though I cannot help but feel I have just been outmaneuvered at dragonchess once again, nonetheless I feel compelled to make the next move, and quickly." With a somber expression, he glances to the floor. "It seems probable that this task cost our friend his life, and yet he persisted unto death. We should investigate the prison, and see if five can succeed where even one so learned as the professor failed."

He shakes his head, considering the professor's final words to the world. "Seventeen days ago.... So much time has already been lost. If any others are willing, I would like to inspect this false cache the professor mentioned- immediately.
Though the prison itself must be our target, a brief errand may leave us better prepared to face the ghosts and other threats that the professor found therein."

Elian immediately begins to collect his things and re-dress for the evening weather, intending to recover any supplies left in the cache and rest before following the professor's leads the next morning.

---

Bizkut, Halfling Urban Barbarian

Bizkut nodded at the explanation, scratching his scar absently. He followed the others upstairs, watching them rush to the chest with only mild interest. However, when they opened the thing to reveal a bunch of books, Bizkut turned to examine the rest of the room, and was across it when they started reading the journal.

He froze for a moment, listening carefully to the story. It wove a tale of conspiracy and cults, necromancers and haunted prisons. And all signs pointed to this being the reason for the Professor’s death. A month after he had written his will ... what had he learned that caused him to write a will? And why call for this group specifically?

He glanced back at the group as Elian spoke, agreeing that this certainly deserved attention. When the man started to gather his belongings, Bizkut raised an eyebrow and looked to the others. “Uh ... we go now?”

---

Kristoph

Kristoph nods his head before chiming in, saying, "Mr. Elian is absolutely right. We should go to the church and see Father Grimburrow. He can tell us more and help us. I think we have great need but must ask permission to use this cache - I will not steal from my own faith."

Looking out to the storm he frowns. "Going back out into the storm will not be pleasant, but this is dire news indeed. We must ensure that other trustworthy allies are warned," he says as he turns to Kendra Lorrimor. Bowing his head to her he apologizes, saying, "Please pardon us, Miss Lorrimor. It is clear your father was not done protecting the innocent from the darkness. While we are gone, please lock up these books and his journal. In particular keep this one," he holds up Serving Your Hunger, "safe and secure. It is the unholy text of the vile cult of Urgathoa and should not be left lying about. I suspect several of these other tomes are of similar dark nature..."

Placing the book back into the chest Kristoph turns and walks purposefully downstairs, clearly assuming the others will be following shortly. Once there he gathers his gear and puts on his cloak before leading the way into town to find the church of Pharasma.

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza nods in agreement with Kristoph. "Similarly, The Umbral Leaves is the unholy text of Zon-Kuthon, though that copy is likely particularly rare, as it is not generally transcribed into Taldane. Given the Professor's desire to protect it, I would guess that the contents of On Verified Madness are more likely to induce madness. The Varisian text however, Manual of the Order of the Palantine Eye, seems somewhat of an outlier. From what I know, they are a secretive bunch, with political and arcane ambitions, but unless they have ties to the Way, they strike me as a card mislaid.

However, might it be wise to bring the journal with us to persuade Father Grimburrow? Without evidence of this supposed ancient cache, it may seem as though we simply seek to go grave-robbing. Additionally, we may be able to garner additional support if we can convince him of the presence of necromancers in this Harrowstone."

---

Yelis

Yelis looked around nervously, checking windows for anything looking in on them. "Look, if we're dealing with a cult, best to play these things close to the chest. If we decide we can trust Grimburrow, we still need to go like we have some other purpose." His gaze shifted over to the armored Pharasmin, and he hastily amended, "Not that I think there's any reason to distrust Father Grimburrow! If a group of necromancers had full control over the graveyards and what have you, they'd be less cloak-and-dagger about achieving their goals. What I'm saying is, if anybody spots us out in this weather, that's going to raise all manner of suspicion. Swinging around tomorrow to clear up some business? That's to be expected."

---

Elian

At Kristoph's mention of the clergy, Elian almost imperceptibly blanches. With an expression as if he'd just tasted something sour, he begrudgingly assents. "I understand your hesitation, Kristoph, but it seems the professor held no similar misgivings. If indeed it can be called theft to make use of ancient, forgotten boons."

In the entry hall, as the rest of the party gathers cloaks and cowls, Elian finds himself nodding along with Yelis' concerns. "I agree. While I mean the man no ill-will, I am inclined to trust only those the professor also did." He eyes the rest of the awkward quintet meaningfully. "I would much prefer we allow no one but ourselves and Kendra to know what we intend."

---

Kristoph

Kristoph looks at those gathered and then gestures to his chest, putting Pharasma's spiral on display for all to clearly see. "I cannot keep the local priest of my church - a faith devoted to the eradication of undeath everywhere - out of this. Bring the journal if you feel it will take more convincing, but I am confident that Father Grimburrow will support this. You can count on Pharasmins to oppose dark necromancers," he says with conviction, leaving it clear that he won't leave the cleric out of the loop.

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Kristoph is a Paladin, Lawful Good, and though the church doesn't exactly sanction him he is devout in his faith. I don't intend to play the "paladin, so we do it my way" card, but Kristoph will be speaking with Father Grimburrow on the way to the cache. If everyone else wants to get a head start I understand, but at the very first moment of conflict I cannot have him drop his priorities immediately...

---

Bizkut, Halfling Urban Barbarian

The big man in armor seemed all spit and polish, but the others were worried about bringing the church in. Bizkut was no stranger to avoiding the authorities attention. Question was whether this was one of those times. Still scratching his scar, the Halfling spoke softly, “Prof didn’t say steal... said borrow. Yer a ... wot, church boy? Why can’t you grab dat stuff?” He wasn’t very eloquent, but Bizkut was poking at a valid question - if Kristoph was an agent of the church, couldn’t he authorize the temporary use of an artifact for valid purposes?

Either way, the Halfling was ready to move out, if that was the plan.

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza give a soft shrug, then gently returns the journal to the trunk. "I think I'd like to take a closer look at the Palantine and Madness books when we return. Perhaps they can shed some insight as to what else we may end up facing." She them pulls out her Harrow deck and begins shuffling the cards as she waits for the others to make up their minds.

---

Elian

As a last thought in the professor's bedroom, Elian nods in agreement with Tyreza. "We will have to tread very lightly with each of these tomes. Professor Lorrimor knew both their value and risk, and we would be wise to inspect and research them as thoroughly as more pressing demands allow. I would imagine most of the townspeople will only understand the danger, so our interests will be prone to misinterpretation- as no doubt was his."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the entry hall, he grimaces as Kristoph's tone leaves no room for argument. He shakes his head in defeat, still making clear his disapproval. "I suspect you are not well-versed with the... antagonism of those who misunderstand you. I sincerely pray this will not be a learning opportunity for you."

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza blinks and suddenly glances around the room, in seeming confusion. "Oh. Wait. Are you all intending to visit this Father Grimburrow and false crypt right now?" She glances down at her funeral attire. "If this must be done immediately, may I have a short while to prepare while you all straighten out the details?"

---

Kristoph

"A 'Church Boy?' No - they have never accepted me. The cache isn't mine to take, but it is theirs to give," responds Kristoph to Bizkut. "We can wait for you, Tyreza, but I think there is reason to bring the journal, especially as all of you seem to doubt that Father Grimburrow will cooperate with us."

At Elian's words Kristoph shakes his head. "I'm sorry for whatever has happened to you, but I am not usually very welcome in my travels either. The Pharasmins doubt me and most locals in Ustalav are suspicious enough of my looks," he gestures to his elven ears and fair complexion, "that they don't much like me either. When we meet with Father Grimburrow - if he accepts me and helps us - I will speak for you to him. Will that assuage your fears?"

---

Bizkut, Halfling Urban Barbarian

The Halfling shrugged at Kristoph’s response. “Sounds like Prof didn’t trust dem ... don’t see why we can’t borrow. You’d make sure it was back. Guess real thing is wot if dis Grim and worth sh!t? Him sell ya out or say no ... wot den?” Bizkut didn’t care about books or journals, but he did put some weight into what the Professor thought. If the man didn’t say anything to the Church, maybe it was for a reason.

---

Yelis

"Look, whatever we do, I'm not terribly concerned. I've got some options if it doesn't work to just explain things. But, let's get some rest and let the storm pass. Whether we're being polite or sneaky, it'll go better if we don't look suspicious, tramping about in the rain." Yelis waved a hand encompassingly. "But, if you insist on doing things the hard way, I can accompany you. The smell of wet dog will be on you. My vote, if that's how we're doing, is to try politely."

---

Elian

"Please, get started," Elian responds to Tyreza. "All undue delay should be avoided."

To Kristoph, he shakes his head. "Frankly, no. It will not, but perhaps it must be, even so." Elian's response is no doubt not what the Pharasmin was hoping to hear, but the situation seems too urgent to mince words.

To the rest of the group he tries to more clearly express himself. "It seems as if the professor was on the heels of this cult when he perished. I am not keen on giving them any more of a head start than they have already gotten. I hope to have accessed this cache tonight- in the rain if need be, so that we can begin investigating the prison where the professor left off in the morning. Every hour may bring us closer to unknowable catastrophe, and besides I will have no trouble looking for this cache in the dark." At their surprised expressions, he smirks knowingly.

"Let it suffice to say that I am not, strictly speaking, human. Now, if we must ask Grimburrow for his blessing, I suggest we make all reasonable haste to do so."

---

Bizkut, Halfling Urban Barbarian

With two of the others seemingly voting for pressing on to Grimburrow, Bizkut shrugged and waited for the group to head out. This wasn’t his town, so he let someone more knowledgeable of the area lead the way. He figured folks would engage with the Prof’s daughter more later ... good chances the girl knew a thing or two about her da and the locals, but it looked like they didn’t have time for that.

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza nods in gratitude. "Thank you. I will be as swift in my preparations as I can."

She leaves the Professor's bedroom and returns to the room where the Professor's will was read. She removes her kapenia and carefully folds it, placing it in a special box made specifically to store it, changes out a few scarves and Bangles, then moves a fair number of items from her bag into various pockets on her person. When she seems satisfied, she pulls out her Harrow deck and begins suffling and laying various spreads of the cards in well practiced movements, and though she reads the results, her examination of them seems cursory, as though they aren't of any real importance.

After close to half an hour she returns to the others, though with the exception of the kapenia, her garb is frustratingly largely the same as before she left. "Alright. I believe I am ready."

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Tyreza has prepared Detect Secret Doors. Additionally she has moved her thunderstone, smokestick, tanglefoot bag, Traveler's Any-Tool, a piece of chalk, and a potion of CLW into pockets in one of her scarves and on her belt for quicker access than her bag.

---

Elian

Elian's gaze lingers perhaps a hair longer than is necessary on Tyreza's apparently unchanged garb. He blinks twice, the only overt sign of his lack of understanding.

"Very well, let us be off." Pinching the neck of his cloak tightly against the rain, he steps onto the Lorrimor's porch, semi-patiently holding the door for his colleagues to pass onward.

---

Kristoph

Kristoph does his best to remain calm and polite as he waits for the party to be ready to go. Once it is clear that they are all prepared to follow, he turns and asks Kendra briefly for directions to the church. Upon her answer he nods and deliberately leads the unlikely group out into the rain and into the small town of Ravengro.

Seemingly unfazed by the rain he carefully blazes a trail through the muddy roads to the church, where he knocks loudly on the door to ensure he is heard over the noise of the weather. "Father Grimburrow! May we speak to you, please?" he calls before attempting the door. (If he finds it open he leads everyone inside before repeating his call into the building.)

---

Yelis

Yelis sighed without much force, hunching up under his poncho and hat, and taking a moment to take Waya's pack off her- no sense in taking those supplies along and drawing additional attention. "All right, then. Let's go see about this, then. C'mon, girl, more work to do today still."

---

"… I do hope he's in," Yelis mused. "It's not all that late, is it?"

---

Elian

Elian nods comfortably, despite the unpleasant atmosphere. "I am sure he will be here. It would take serious matters to draw him into a night like this. Best we be patient, he did not seem to be overly spry giving the eulogy." A thin smirk plays upon his lips as he stands with hands clasped in front of himself, awaiting the clergyman's appearance.

[Starbin]

Spoiler: RPoL 2

Show

Father Grimburrow

The priest opens the door after a long moment, and gives you a hard look. Despite the intensity of his expression, though, his voice remains gentle. "What can I help you with?" he says.

---

Kristoph

Kristoph nods his head deferentially to the priest and make the sign of the spiral on his chest in salute. "Father, please excuse the late hour, but in reviewing the Professor's will we have discovered something very concerning. May we come inside and discuss this somewhere private? Lorrimor died protecting Ravengro, but his work is not yet done and we need your help..."

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Diplomacy - rolled an 11 to convince Father Grimburrow to help.

---

Father Grimburrow

"You are welcome to explain," Grimburrow says. He takes a step back, allowing you into the temple without quite inviting you in.

It's a small temple, opening directly into the main worship area. There are pews, and an altar. It's lit by candlelight, leaving it relatively dim and with many shadows in the corners. The rain patters against the windows, and a particularly strong gust of wind rattles them in their frames.

"Now," the priest says, sitting in one of the pews like his bones are aching. "What's this about needing my help?"

---

Yelis

Yelis looked somber, taking his hat off and holding it respectfully. Waya stepped away from the others to shake herself dry. "We were reading his journals, and found they warned that necromancers have been looking for something in Harrowstone. Knowing that none are so zealous in their opposition of the creation of undead abominations as the Gray Lady's faithful, we came to you first." He held up a hand reassuringly. "We don't mean we expect somebody in your position to address the matter for us; after all, it was us who were bequeathed his journal. But, he did tell us that the Pharasmins had prepared for just such an eventuality long ago. We would not want their preparations wasted in such times of need."

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Diplomacy result: 20

---

Elian

Elian nods gratefully to Grimburrow as he steps across the threshold. For neither the first nor surely the last time, he wonders both idly and thankfully that that particular piece of myth is nothing more than an old wive's tale. It'd otherwise be quite the awkward explanation, indeed....

He peers about, openly examining the interior of the little chapel while Yelis begins his own, more thorough description of their needs. When the cowled man finishes, Elian adds his own brief exhortation. "Indeed, though we suspect to be able to protect the people of Ravensgro regardless, it is truly a matter worse than life and death- and sufficiently urgent to bring us to make our petition in the rain, on the night of our departed friend's final resting. Your help would be much appreciated," he implores with a modest but reverent bow.

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Rolled 17 diplomacy to assist, 5 sense motive (natural 1) to assess the priest's response

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza politely bows to the priest, but makes no effort to enter the temple at the moment. "In addition to seeking your blessing regarding this lost Pharasman cache, the late Professor indicated in his journal that these necromancers seemed to be interested in a particular occupant of Harrowstone, and that you might possess a list of those who died in a fire? I don't know why it is important, but it seemed important to the Professor, before he died."

She looks thoughtful for a moment before adding "And how did the Professor die, Father? The cause was not mentioned in the summons to his funeral..."

---

Kristoph

Kristoph nods as the others speak, covering all the details they know so far. "The Professor's notes mention a cache in the Boneyard with equipment that will help us. May we go and secure that gear?" he adds simply.

---

Bizkut, Halfling Urban Barbarian

Bizkut stood in the rain as the others all spoke. When the priest’s eyes passed over him, he simply shrugged. “I’m with them.”

---

Father Grimburrow

The aged father considers for a long moment before speaking. "I am willing to give you the cache, if there is such a thing, as a fellow servant of the Lady of Graves," he says slowly. "But I will send two acolytes with you to ensure that no sacrilege is done, as I do not know you personally. As to the others...I can compile a list of those who died in the fire, if you think it important, but it will take a few days. And the Professor, may the Lady rest him gentle, appears to have died in Harrowstone when a statue fell on him and crushed his skull."

---

Bizkut, Halfling Urban Barbarian

Bizkut’s stared blankly as the priest demanded two of his clergy accompany the group. Since the Halfling hadn’t formed any bonds with any of these cloud-scrappers, two more would offer more targets to keep himself safe. When the priest described the Professors’s demise, however, Bizkut’s eyes narrowed and his jaws clenched. Death by a statue in a ‘haunted’ prison? Not bloody likely this was an accident.

“Who found him?”

---

Kristoph

Kristoph frowns at the cause of Professor Lorrimor's death. Nodding, he listens to the taciturn halfling's question and waits for an answer...

Once given, the half-elf asks his own questions: "Father, are your acolytes here? How quickly can they be ready to escort us to the cache? We would like to get this started right away so that we can investigate the grounds early tomorrow while the sun is at its strongest."

---

Elian

Elian shares a knowing look with Kristoph at the news of Lorrimor's demise. Likewise, if the Halfling's expression is any indication, the shorter fellow is thinking the same. He keeps his peace, patiently waiting for the priest's further responses.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:45, Thu 20 Feb.

---

Father Grimburrow

"Yes, I have acolytes here," the priest says. "I can go and ask them if they are willing to venture out in this rain, if you would like. Oh, and I believe the body was found by a hunter going past the prison's ruins on his way out to the forest for the day."

---

Kristoph

Kristoph nods his head and thanks the priest, saying, "Thank you, Father, for those details. We will likely wish to speak with the hunter later. When you can, we would appreciate summoning the acolytes - in spite of the weather we feel we should look into the cache immediately. Perhaps the rain will show us Pharasma's blessings as her water comes down on those living and dead alike."

---

Tyreza Thoron

Tyreza closes her eyes for a moment in silent contemplation of the priest's response. "Thank you, Father. I would very much appreciate that list.
Now, where did the Professor say the false crypt was? Eversleep and... was it the Dark Path?"

[Starbin]

**Apologies for a third post - just trying to keep our continuity up**

Bizkut - Halfling Rager

The halfling watched silently, nodding absently at the priest’s response. He, too, wondered what this hunter would have to say ... and what they were doing in the area. As Tyreza spoke, something triggered his memory, and he thought back to when she had read off the journal. He slipped back to Elian and tugged on the man’s cloak.

”D’ya think the Prof already grabbed this stuff?”

---

OOC - [If he knew 18 days ago he needed aid, wouldn’t he have gotten it by his last entry? Sorry, but that just occurred to me