Carrion Crown [IC]

[NikolaTesla]

Starday morning, 18 Calistril, 4711 AR

Funerals are usually somber occasions, but the light drizzle wetting the gentle hills of eastern Ustalav leant the morning an even more dour mood. Ahead, a small party gathers around a wagon hearse outside The Restlands, Ravengro's cemetery. Most of the graves seem nondescript, though perhaps that's only due to the haze of rain. As each of you approach, you can see that the coffin is kept closed, but its lavishly decorated exterior almost makes up for the missing view of Professor Lorrimor: silver spirals envelop the coffin, seeming to meld with the darkly colored hardwood as if they grew within the tree itself.

A young woman in a finely decorated but conservatively cut dress steps forward to greet you when you arrive, and introduces herself as Kendra Lorrimor, the late Professor's daughter:

Spoiler: Kendra Lorrimor

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"Thank you for coming to my father's funeral. I was beginning to worry that none of his friends from outside Ravengro would come. Seems even those snobs at Lepidstadt University couldn't spare the trip..." Kendra's voice cracks slightly at the end, but apparently she's already had some time to come to terms with her father's death and quickly regains control. "While we wait for noon, allow me to introduce you to the best of Ravengro, who have come to mourn my father's passing with me."

With that, she introduces you to the five others there, including:

Spoiler: Councilman Vashian Hearthmount

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Spoiler: Councilman Gharen Muricar (apologies for the image size)

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Spoiler: Zokar Elkarid, Tavernkeeper at the Laughing Demon

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Spoiler: Pevrin Elkarid, Zokar's 13yo son and Ravengro Post Boy

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Spoiler: Jominda Fallenbridge, Apothecary

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Once you have all arrived, noon approaches and and Kendra asks for at least 4 people to be pall-bearers. None of the townsfolk seem particularly keen on the idea, but you might be able to convince 1 or 2 of the stronger ones to help. Please decide amongst yourselves who will be pall-bearers. Feel free to give brief introductions to Kendra and each other; if you'd like to share more in depth stories about your character's connection to Professor Lorrimor you will have the opportunity to do so later.

Skill Prompts (Maximum of 1 type of roll for each):

• What's up with the silver spirals? K. Religion DC 5, K. Local DC 10, K., Lore Burials DC 10, Spellcraft DC 25
• Why is the casket closed? K. Local DC 12, K. Religion DC 15, Lore Burials DC 15
• Convince a townsperson to help carry the casket: Diplomacy DC 20ish, Intimidate DC 25ish
• Why are the people of Ravengro so reticent to help? Sense Motive DC 10

[Spore]

Dragoslav Cutov Human Gravedigger Investigator AC: 17 HP: 10/10 touch: 11 ff: 16 CMD: 15 Conditions: - The cold rain drizzles onto a huge hunched man dressed in a brown traveller's coat. Atop his bald head is a grey cylinder that clashes with the rough almost orcish features of the man wearing it. If the day wasn't as sad, his appearance would stand out as he looks like he has been haunted for years by something he experienced. But currently he looked like he belonged here. Leaning onto a bent old shovel, he does not look like a man meant to join the funeral party, but the one that stays back with on the graveyard burying the deceased. And those who knew Dragoslav knew he would be honored to make sure his grave was secure and well-tended. He owed much to the professor. Drago bowed and nodded to show his acceptance to be a pallbearer. He would carry the professor and his coffin on his own if need be, but this would not be as dignified if four people were doing this. He looks around looking for other volunteers, avoiding the local nobility. Spoiler Show What's up with the silver spirals? Know Religion: worst result I can get is 7, so no roll here. Why is the casket closed? Know Local: (1d20+6)[17] Why are the people of Ravengro so reticent to help? Sense Motive: (1d20+5)[11]

[NikolaTesla]

Drago’s skill check results. If the rest of you roll these and succeed, feel free to look here:

Spoiler: Spirals

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The spiral is a holy symbol of Pharasma; a fitting decoration for a coffin. The silver material is probably meant to ward off certain foul creatures, though whether that’s actually an effective countermeasure against them or just Ustalavic superstition you’re not sure.

Spoiler: Closed Casket

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Ustalavic tradition dictates that a corpse should be kept in the light as much as possible before burial in the dark; hence the tradition of burials at noon. Even in the rain, the casket would normally be open. Baring plague, a closed casket can only mean one thing: a horribly mutilated body.

Spoiler: Townsfolk

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All of the townsfolk seem very anxious about being here at The Restlands for the funeral. They probably consider showing up an act of bravery.

[Farmerbink]

A tall and well-toned man with shoulder length black hair is the next to arrive. At first, it's difficult to be sure he's a man, as his features are smooth, impeccably clean-cut, and perhaps a hair on the feminine side. When he speaks a few moments later, however, it is with a rich and comforting baritone voice that fills the air with an energy commanding attention. He paces close enough to look into the casket and scowls suddenly. A deep frown grows on his otherwise attractive features as he considers the significance, and he lovingly traces a few of the silver spirals engraved on its surface. Finally, he approaches Kendra with an air of nobility or perhaps celebrity- though he manages to make it seem fitting despite the weather and the locale. "Of course, miss Lorrimor. It's truly the least I could do. The professor was my dearest friend. I could never abide any less." He actually chuckles a bit at her commentary of the academics her father knew well. "I think you said it best, dear. Snobs."

He immediately turns to the gathered councilmen and others, inclining his head respectfully. Noting their obvious discomfort, he goes out of his way to try and make everyone feel more at ease; using high speech and formalities with the councilmen (until or unless their behavior suggests they would appreciate otherwise) and more neighborly talk with the craftsmen and simpler folk.

"Pleased to meet you, Master Hearthmount. Master Muricar." His attention to the tavern keeper is only slightly less deferential- instead offering a friendly and rougher greeting. "I wish it were better circumstances, but I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Mister Elkarid. Perhaps we'll share a toast over dinner soon." He nods to the boy with a conspiratorial wink. "Good man, starting his father's work so young." And finally, to the apothecary, he bows low to take and kiss her hand, "Madam Fallenbridge." He rubs elbows and hobs nobs with the gathered "best of Ravengro," after greeting the Orcish man politely, "Another friend of the Professor? We'll have to talk sometime." He then takes several minutes to pay his respects to the Professor, apparently well and truly lost in thought.

At mention of pallbearer, Elian blanches a bit- in embarrassment? "I would be honored above all, Miss Lorrimor. I fear I may not be the best choice, however. Please don't misunderstand, I'm happy to help, but carrying heavy wooden boxes is not one of my stronger suits. Ah, Mister Elkarid! Surely you would come to the aid of an orphaned daughter in need?"

Spoiler: Rolls

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Posted OOC. Cleared the first three, and rolled a 25 to convince one of the townsfolk to serve as pallbearer.

[doko239]

A tall, lanky man in dark travelling clothes stands apart from the rest of the group, leaning against a nearby tree and watching the proceedings from afar. One might think him a disinterested bystander, were it not for the set of his jaw and the hard, pained look in his eyes. Any who speak to him receive polite but curt responses, and his gaze remains fixed on the casket at all times.

Spoiler: Rolls:

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What's up with the silver spirals? Knowledge: Religion DC5 auto-success (+6 modifier)
Why is the casket closed? Knowledge: Religion (1d20+6)[26]
Why are the people of Ravengro so reticent to help? Sense Motive (1d20+7)[11]

[matpal93]

Just a few minutes before the funeral is set to start, a wagon pulls up to the edge of the graveyard just long enough for a man in a dark blue travelling cloak and backpack to hop out before the driver heads off as quickly as the horses can carry him. With a short, futile wave after the disappearing wagon, the cloaked man turns, holding his cloak tightly to him as he walks through the wet graveyard. underneath the wet hood, the mourners can see short-cut dark brown hair framing a bronzed face and deep purple eyes. The cloak itself is of good quality, though simply and functional in design. A large silver compass engraved with several stars hangs off the man's belt, shining droplets of water falling off from it into the mud below. He approaches the gathering around the casket, then says to Kendra "Lady Lorrimor, Hardor of house Sentas at your service. I apologize for my tardiness. I left as soon as I got your letter, but it was harder to find anything faster than a wagon after Caliphas."

When Kendra asks for volunteer pallbearers, Hardor hesitates, then replies "Not really my strong suit, but if there's no one else, I'll do it. I can't think of a more eloquent way to repay some of his kindness to me."

---

* post roll count doesn't match database

[matpal93]

Spoiler: Die Rolls

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Why is the casket closed? Knowledge (religion) (1d20+8)[23]
Why are the people of Ravengro so reticent to help? Sense Motive (1d20+2)[13]

[DarkOne-Rob]

The tall, ginger-haired half-elf in matte-black studded leather armor with the blue spiral of Pharasma on his tunic steps forward, seeing that the last position on the coffin needs filling. With a smile that looks natural but tinged with sadness he says, "Well met, all, on this mournful day. Would that we were here on a happier errand. My name is Kristoph, and I will gladly help carry our late friend to his resting place. Miss Lorrimor, please accept my condolences for your father's passing - we are all lessened by it." As he takes his place he traces the spiral on his breast, eyes closed and muttering a prayer for the deceased.

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Diplomacy (1d20+8)[24] to improve attitudes of NPCs.
Knowledge (Religion) (1d20+5)[23] as appropriate.
Sense Motive (1d20+3)[9]

As a devout worshipper of Pharasma, I figure he knows some of this as a matter of course, but also figure a roll is appropriate.

[Spore]

Dragoslav Cutov Human Gravedigger Investigator AC: 17 HP: 10/10 touch: 11 ff: 16 CMD: 15 Conditions: - Drago looks at the newcomers and nods slightly at the lot of them. You can tell social grace is not his strong suit. He lurks around the coffin, inspecting it and considering lifting the lid, but he decides otherwise. I see your symbol matches that on the coffin and that of Pharasma, Kristoph. I wager you are the one they sent to see our common friend off? Without waiting for an answer, Drago's inquisitive mind continues. Now humor me for a moment, you all. These are the Restlands, a graveyard famously tended to by Pharasma's best. There is nothing that could prevent people from showing up. And there is nothing that should prevent Lorrimor from receiving the proper rites. Unless... He turns to Kendra with a sorrowful countenance. Can you tell us what happened? The locals are anxious about attending, and this area should be safe. I am sorry for circumventing social norms, but Professor Lorrimor was no mamn that would simply die that easily.

[Farmerbink]

Elian winces as Drago goes about stomping all over the social norms and niceties, almost as if in actual physical pain. "Ah, if I may, Miss Lorrimor?" At her acquiescence, he gently reaches out to pull the investigator aside. [

"There are, ah, few reasons for things to progress this way, none of them pleasant," he whispers, just far enough away to insulate the young woman from the immediate conversation. "It's quite likely that our late mutual friend is in, shall we say, poor state? I think it would do none of us any good to look upon him, as his body is no doubt grossly damaged. Surely, Miss Lorrimor will want to share the weight of her burdens, but I think this isn't the time, yeah? Customs insist she invite us to her home this evening, where there will be ample opportunity for whatever discussions we desire."

The lithe man nods urgently to the stone-faced investigator, desperately willing him to understand and be nice about it. "I'm as curious as you," he admits. He frowns and gestures close to his chest, nonetheless encompassing the whole scene around them; "There is something very amiss about all this."

[DarkOne-Rob]

I see your symbol matches that on the coffin and that of Pharasma, Kristoph. I wager you are the one they sent to see our common friend off?

Kristoph's sad smile falters a bit. The otherworldly half-elf shakes his head and is about to answer when the other man asks Kendra Lorrimor about her late father. For a moment his expression turns to a scowl before Elian pulls the other man aside. With a nod he waits for the two to return to the coffin before speaking. "I did not catch your name, good sir. I do worship the Lady of Graves and recognize those who honor her today. However, the Church is not likely to direct me to represent them anytime soon. I am considered...odd I suppose. It isn't my intent to embarrass them, but I seem to do so anyway.

No, the late Professor and I met on the road once and camped together out of convenience and mutual need. We were accosted by mindless undead and I might have died that night if not for his expertise. I owe him my life - it is only fitting I honor him in death. Pharasma wills it." With a sigh he gestures to the coffin and asks everyone, "Shall we begin the sad walk?"

[matpal93]

Hardor nods, then stands up and takes his place at the rear of the casket. As the mage helps carry the professor to his final rest, he struggles visibly, but doesn't make a sound of complaint.

[Farmerbink]

Elian seems content to let the tavern-keeper take his place, and follows just behind the casket. At the first sign of Hardor's struggles, he steps up close behind him. "May I?" he whispers, indicating willingness to assist, but acknowledging the necessity to somewhat invade the other man's personal space.

Spoiler: OOC

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If agreeable, Elian will move close to Hardor and between the two of them, I figure they can hold up one corner respectably.

[matpal93]

After considering for a brief moment, Elian hears a grunting, though still muted response. "Sure."

[NikolaTesla]

Noon, 18 Calistril, 4711 AR
Party Trust Score: 20

The councilmen are both reserved in their responses to Elian's greeting, though the demeanor seems unnatural for councilman Muricar. Kendra waits patiently for Elian to finish giving Drago an earful, but afterwards waves a hand dismissively at the lack of decorum.

"It's only natural that you would be curious, especially given his field of study. But alas, my father's cause of death was nothing so dramatic as the dark things he fought against; his head was simply crushed by a bit of falling rubble at the old Harrowstone Ruins." She shook her head sadly. "So many years fighting the darkness, only to be done in by the cracked off head of a decorative gargoyle. I should like to hear more of your stories of him later though; perhaps there will be time before the reading of his will this afternoon."

As you arrange yourselves for bearing the casket, Elian is able to convince Zokar to be a pall bearer, and you arrange yourselves with Kristoph at the front right, Drago at the back left, Zokar at the front left, and Elian and Hardor working together at the back right. Kendra opens the gates to The Restlands, and the whole party stops to draw a spiral on their chests as Kristoph did, though whether they're imitating Kristoph or following local tradition you're not sure. Kendra then leads you up the hill, the casket and pallbearers behind, and the remaining 5 funeral attendees trailing behind them.

A few paces into the cemetery, Kendra turns left and begins heading up a path called "The Dreamwake". Rounding the corner onto "The Eversleep" however, the party finds its path blocked by a group of a dozen surly looking locals. The tallest of these toughs, an elderly but wiry retired soldier, calls out as soon as he sees you.

"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!"

Kendra is swift to respond, her sadness swiftly transforming into anger. “What are you talking about?”

Spoiler: Skill Prompts

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Sense Motive before entering the Restlands.
Diplomacy with thugs (made as a group, +2 to whoever gets the highest if you beat a DC 10, -2 if you fail beat it).
Harrowstone? K. Local DC 10

[matpal93]

Turning to Elian, Hardor says "Can you hold this for a moment?" (assuming he says yes) The Pathfinder steps out from the casket to the front of the funeral party.

"And why shouldn't he be? I may just be a visitor to your town, but I do know something of the Professor. The man was probably the best and kindest man I ever met. He dedicated his life to knowledge, to fighting against the darkness of the world the best he could, and making sure others could do the same. If he were a man of my city, I would consider it an honor to have him buried beside my forefathers, and give him a share of the offerings to my own departed kin. You should do no less."

[Farmerbink]

Elian blinks twice, taken a bit by surprise by the sudden interruption. He's all kinds of prepared to say "no, probably not," when Hardor goes ahead and steps away. With a strangled grunt, he puts his whole body to it, and just manages to not embarrass his companions nor his late friend. As Hardor gives his thoughts, Elian collects his and stabilizes his hold.

With both hands on the casket, Elian nods eagerly, dovetailing with Hardor's entreaties. "Indeed, as he said. The Professor was an ardent defender of the Good and the living. Your fair town of Ravengro is much enriched by his work!"

Spoiler: Rolls

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Placed OOC, Immediately relevant is a 28 diplomacy result

[NikolaTesla]

Trust: 21

Hardor and Elian's stern words are enough to get calm the armed thugs and they sullenly disperse, shooting venomous glances at Hardor and Kendra and muttering about "good for nothing necromancers".

Once the crowd has dispersed, Councilman Muricar gives a weaselly "tut tut, I do believe I recognized them. Was that Gibs leading them?"

"Yes, I think it was." responds the corpulent Councilman Hearthmount, “All of them local farmhands, all of low character.”

Kendra stands there fuming as the councilmen continue their idle commentary, then turns around as a grubby man with a shovel emerges from further up the Eversleep and approaches. "My sincerest apologies for those men's behavior, things have been a little weird around here for the last 2 weeks and lots of people are on edge. That's one of Father Grimburrow's gravediggers approaching, probably to see why the procession stopped. Lets not keep them waiting."

Even as Kendra mentions things being "weird around here" you notice in the distance the gravedigger stops to throw something shiny at a grave at the side of the road, then proceed to apparently beat something senseless with a shovel before continuing on towards you, but neither the gravedigger nor Kendra comment on the strange occurrence as he joins the again moving procession.

No further complications occur as you arrive at the plot Kendra purchased for her father, presided over by a stern old man who's grim, furrowed brow could only make him Father Grimburrow:

Spoiler: Father Grimburrow

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Once the silver spiraled coffin has been lowered into the already dug hole, Father Grimburrow gives a short sermon on the path of souls and what Pharasma does with those who are good, then invites Kendra to say a few words about her father. Kendra ights back tears and briefly recounts a few of her father’s more courageous or selfless moments, then stands back. All stand in silence as gravediggers cover Professor Lorrimor with dirt that is quickly turning to mud in the rain, till all that remains is a slightly concave rectangle on the ground.

Kendra thanks everyone for coming, then turns to you five."Would you all be so kind as to accompany me back to my home for a drink? My father's will contained a note stipulating that you all be present before it is read, and unfortunately Mr. Hearthmount (the closest thing we have so a solicitor) had some business to attend to after the funeral so we have a little bit of time before he arrives."

Spoiler: Skill Check Results

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Spoiler: Sense Motive

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Zokar shivers slightly at the mention of Harrowstone.

Spoiler: Harrowstone

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Harrowstone is a ruined prison—partially destroyed by a fire in 4661 AR, the building has stood vacant ever since. The locals suspect that it’s haunted, and don’t enjoy speaking of the place.

[matpal93]

After the crowd begins to disperse, Hardor returns to his place with the casket, and says a quick "Sorry" to Elian.

[Spore]

Dragoslav Cutov Human Gravedigger Investigator AC: 17 HP: 10/10 touch: 11 ff: 16 CMD: 15 Conditions: - Drago accepts the explanation given by Kendra, though he does not necessarily believe it. With the procession delayed once more, the thugs could be glad he was bound by honor to carry the deceased Professor, as he wanted to much to cave in their skulls. The more suave solved that situation swiftly however. Not to be outdone by Father Grimburrow's digger, Drago simply aids the help in expediting the digging. He would not want the grave to be half-filled with water, though the rain would certainly match Pharasma's river of souls. Most importantly it kept him from babbling and let him focus on the blockade at hand. What difference did it make for farmhands to switch a burial place? If they wanted to disturb Lorrimor's rest, it would certainly be easier upriver. If they felt he had disturbed a long-hidden secret as he did so often, it might be just a question of misguided honor. Keeping his now dirty hands to himself, Dragoslav turns to Kendra. Can I ask you a few things once we have left your dear father to his rest? And can we be sure the graveyard is checked regularly? I would not like these thugs to disturb his resting place, and if I stayed here for a few days to deter them, I cannot guarantee for their survival if they decide to come here again. Drago adds with a raspy voice.

[NikolaTesla]

Keeping his now dirty hands to himself, Dragoslav turns to Kendra. Can I ask you a few things once we have left your dear father to his rest? And can we be sure the graveyard is checked regularly? I would not like these thugs to disturb his resting place, and if I stayed here for a few days to deter them, I cannot guarantee for their survival if they decide to come here again. Drago adds with a raspy voice.

"Not to worry, Father Grimburrow is a quite powerful priest of Pharasma, and his scowl alone is enough to keep people from desecrating things, even without their healthy fear of curses from exhuming bodies."

She says it loud enough for Father Grimburrow to hear, and he chuckles good naturedly."Now now my dear, having a visage that scares the dead themselves away is part of my priestly duty!" he croaks, then continues chuckling to himself as he begins to move off towards a small shack at the western edge of the graveyard.

[Farmerbink]

It takes him a moment to build up the effort for a "it worked out" to go with an easy smile, but Elian is obviously glad to share his portion of the load again, maybe even more so than he is to see the rabble leaving peaceably. He slows with an uncomfortable expression when the gravedigger appears to beat... something... with his shovel.

Blinking to dispel whatever thoughts he has, Elian bucks up and does his part to help deliver Professor Lorrimor to his final rest. He stands by respectfully as the aptly named Father Grimburrow preaches and Kendra gives the eulogy. He respectfully inclines his head, polite and peaceful throughout, and stands by while the professor is interred.

"Of course we'll join you, Miss Lorrimor, though I must have misheard. Did you just say the professor mentioned us in his will?" The slim and attractive man is obviously confused by this development. It takes him a few moments to visibly regain his composure, though his expression settles somewhere between doubtful and curious. "It sounds like it will be both my honor and duty to join you this evening."

He eyes the priest warily for a moment, before snorting in amusement at the unfortunate-looking cleric's joke. Finally, as the group prepares to depart, Elian approaches Kendra, extending to her his elbow to provide some stability. "If I may, Miss Lorrimor. It'd be a shame for you to slip in the mud here."

[Spore]

Dragoslav Cutov Human Gravedigger Investigator AC: 17 HP: 10/10 touch: 11 ff: 16 CMD: 15 Conditions: - During the ceremony, the butch man can't help but keep a watch out for the thugs, dispelling any illusions his attendance is for the actual deed of burying Lorrimor more than paying his last respects. He was no man of philosophy or metaphysics, but a man of action. Part of him was actually disappointed not to butt heads with the farmhands, but it was probably the best for the burial and for everyone involved. It would not be surprising for the professor to be closer to his study partners than to his own family. Drago glances at Kendra, and hastily adds, Barring Lady Kendra here of course. He turns to the grim oldtimer of a head priest. If these men pester you, please contact me. I assume your reputation here is of importance, but mine is not.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Kristoph appears at first to be slow to react to the approaching farmers, though in reality he is simply helping to balance the casket to keep the late Professor from an unfortunate, post-mortem accident. From his position at the front of the little procession he eyes the gathered farmers with a steely look, but holds his tongue when it becomes clear the others have convinced them to leave peacefully.

Spoiler: OoC

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If we keep this pace up it will be a challenge to post frequently enough to participate in some of these encounters! Don't slow down for me - work has been busy - but in the future I would like more of a chance to RP!

Spoiler: Skill Checks

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Sense Motive (1d20+3)[11]
Knowledge (Local) *Untrained* (1d20+1)[6]

Once the coffin is laid on the ground Kristoph kneels before the town priest, lowering his eyes and saying, "Father, thank you for your presence here today. May our Lady of Graves bless this meeting." Once standing again he traces the blue spiral on his tabard and introduces himself, quickly, saying, "I am Kristoph, paladin and devotee of Pharasma." before stepping back, awkwardly. It's plain that the half-elf intends to show the man honor, but his formal approach seems a bit otherworldly and out of place in the rain...

At the end of Father Grimburrow's eulogy Kristoph again makes the sign of the spiral before listening to Kendra Lorrimor with an encouraging look on his face. When it is time to bury the Professor's body he quietly says, "Just as the rain falls to the earth and the stream flows to the sea, so too must all things pass away. Pharasma spins and guides the threads of fate; when she wills it...none may escape their final destination, nor their designated time. May we have faith in her guidance." He then agrees to go to the Lorrimor residence for the reading of the will.

After Dragoslav finishes speaking to the priest Kristoph thanks the old man and asks when services are held. "While I am here I would be grateful for a place to worship. I would attempt to consult the stars tonight were it not for the rain - they shown me prophecy yet, but I find it calming and it brings me closer to Pharasma's oracles. Thank you again, Father, for your kind words for our late friend." He then follows the others to Kendra's home.

[NikolaTesla]

Spoiler: Kendra w/ Elian

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"There's no mistake dear Elian, my father's will is still sealed in wax; no one has read it yet. He left a note with it that specified that you all (or at least all those who could make it) be present for its reading."

Kendra puts her hands on her hips and sighs. "Knowing him, he probably has something related to his research stashed somewhere that doesn't want me to worry myself about and wants to trouble you with instead."

Miss Lorrimor accepts your offer of help, as the slope down out of the Restlands is in fact rather slippery.

Spoiler: Kristoph and Father Grimburrow

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Though Kristoph can't see it, Father Grimburrow arches a bushy eyebrow at Kristoph's declaration of himself as a Paladin of Pharasma, but his face quickly returns to its furrowed neutrality. "Welcome my fellow servant. A visiting paladin is a welcome enforcer of the natural order."

After the ceremony, Kristoph's words cause him to raise a bushy eyebrow again. "You are a strange one lad. Be careful with Pharasma's prophecies; there would be several more priests tending the Restlands during this trying time if they had not gone completely mad decades ago because of it. In any case, the Day of Bones is fast approaching, and there will be extensive services then. In the meantime, I'm sure the acolytes would appreciate your aid in the Procession of Unforgotten Souls.

Skill Prompts:
Day of Bones DC 12 K. Religion or Local
Procession of Unforgotten Souls DC 15 K. Religion or Local
(The DC of both is 5 if you are a Pharasmin)
Gone Completely Mad? DC 18 K. Religion or History
Note that you can always ask NPC's even if you fail the knowledge check.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Spoiler: Kristoph and Father Grimburrow

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Skill Prompts:
Day of Bones DC 12 K. Religion or Local
Procession of Unforgotten Souls DC 15 K. Religion or Local
(The DC of both is 5 if you are a Pharasmin)
Gone Completely Mad? DC 18 K. Religion or History
Note that you can always ask NPC's even if you fail the knowledge check.

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Kristoph cannot fail a DC 5 Knowledge (Religion) check and is a Pharasmin.

Re: "Gone Completely Mad" - Knowledge (Religion) (1d20+5)[7]

"Mad, Father? As a result of stargazing? I'm afraid I don't understand..." Kristoph replies respectfully. "I keep a little journal of their movements...that and the planets. Should I not? I thought the Lady of Graves held prophecy and fate in her hands?"

[Farmerbink]

Elian listens intently to Kendra, no less curious but satisfied in her word that somehow this motley crew bound only by mutual friendship is somehow going to be important in the upcoming days. He glances around the group, openly appraising them (though trying to be a bit furtive about it) with newfound respect. If nothing else, Elian knows better than to think the professor would have put something like this into place lightly.

"Heh, I bet that's it. And he would be right, you know. As difficult as this time is for all of us, you certainly don't need more dangerous work on your plate when you should be celebrating your father's life and mourning his passing." The expression he offers is one of kind, gentle reproach.

The mesmerist lapses into a comfortable silence as Kendra takes his arm. Dedicating his attention for the moment to avoiding the worst of the slick spots in the path and providing stable footing and handhold for Miss Lorrimor.

Spoiler: OOC

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Mechanically, Elian will have his mesmerist trick, psychosomatic surge, implanted on himself. I don't expect him to take damage, but it's something of a "better safe than sorry" plan he keeps in place virtually every day.

If he takes damage, he can trigger the trick to gain 1d8 temporary HP, from which the triggering attack will take HP before dealing real damage.

[NikolaTesla]

Afternoon, 18 Calistril, 4711| Trust: 21

Spoiler: Kristoph and Father Grimburrow

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The grizzled old man grimaces and sighs slightly."It is true that the Gray Lady holds a special connection to prophecy; her unique heritage entitles her to it. But the dawn of the Age of Lost Omens destroyed many of her mortal oracles, and in the decades following the death of Aroden a not insignificant portion of her priesthood either succumbed to madness or apostatized. Of course, this was mostly before my time, I just saw the aftermath of the upheaval..." He gives you a wry smile. "I'm not quite that old, you might think me some unholy abomination otherwise. Enjoy the stars lad, I've only seen a handful of servants of the Gray Lady succumb to madness in my lifetime, and they were seeking secrets that they should not have sought.

Spoiler: Map of Ravengro

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Kendra leads you back south towards the main part of Ravengro, soon crossing a bridge eastward across Ravengro Creek and heading south on Talon Street through the town square. The rain begins to pick up, and Kendra remarks several times that she wished she knew how to perform a floating disk spell to keep dry, but soon you arrive at the Lorrimor residence near the southern edge of Ravengro.

The house is a modest affair, but it's interior reveals much about the man who live there less than 3 weeks ago. Each room is home to at least a couple crowded bookshelves, often with small colored pieces of paper protruding from the pages. Kendra gets a fire going in the hearth to help everyone dry off, then sets about grabbing some preparing some warm cider. This done, she looks to a beautiful time piece above the mantle made of solid brass and set with bits of crystal, with a vaguely beetle shaped motif in the center.

"It looks like we have a little bit of time before the councilman arrives. Before he does, perhaps you can all tell me more about yourselves? About how you knew my father?"

Skill Prompts
Tell your story: Diplomacy or Perform (oratory)

[Spore]

Dragoslav Cutov Human Gravedigger Investigator AC: 17 HP: 10/10 touch: 11 ff: 16 CMD: 15 Conditions: - Inside the hunched giant took off his simple coat. Under this - some of you are actually relieved Drago was not actually as massive as a small ogre - he reveals a thick refurbished breastplate. His pale almost grey thick arms stick out of the sleeveless shirt he wears under the metal armor. His shovel-sized hands pushed the last raindrops off of his bald head and smeared them onto his trousers; an elegant legwear hopelessly abused by wind, weather and its owner. He looked like the kind of guy who was bought elegant clothes, but he wore them for everything including outdoor activities. The prompt to introduce themselves made Drago deeply nervous. If he knew to face his demons head-on, he would not even be here. He would probably be dead. He took a deep breath, obvious to anyone around him. My name is Dragoslav Cutov. I would consider myself a study partner of late Professor Lorrimor, but that would be a lie. I am versed in various topics thanks to him, including the occult, extraplanar endeavors as well as historical events, but I never considered myself more than a bodyguard to him. His interests regularly endangered his life, and I think he was glad I was a better partner for arguments than many of his previous helpers. Drago pops open a pocket on his belt, revealing a flask with iridescent blue liquid. Though I am actually a travelling alchemist. Tragedy struck my family, debt and death made me our family's last remnant, loosing us our shop. Ever since I am wandering, maybe saving up coin for another shop, though I must say Petros gave my errant life meaning and structure again. Something dearly missing these days. His monologue peters out, as he is more interested in the clock. Spoiler Show Knowledge (History) to reveal anything about the beetle iconography. (1d20+6)[24] Perception to investigate (1d20+7)[9]

[Farmerbink]

Elian smiles, listening easily to Drago’s simple explanation over a steaming mug of hot cider. He nods appropriately, with some familiarity, sipping frequently.

“I suppose I’ll go next. My name is Elian Evenstarr. I hail from the lovely metropolis of Caliphas, where at least the winters are not quite so dreary and cold.” He smirks, though he lets you wonder the details of whatever fond memory or joke has come to mind.

“I had the pleasure of meeting our late friend some years ago. It was perhaps equally fortuitous to both of us. See, I am of Elven heritage-” he draws back a thick strand of luxurious black hair to reveal a fairly pointed ear- “so it was a younger man, but no less full of curiosity and vitality that I met. Sadly, we kept in touch almost entirely by missive since then. I am... displeased that I was not able to be of more help to him. Not nearly as much as he was to me, and for that, at least, I am in your debt, Miss Lorrimor.” Elian inclines his head to her, graciously and takes another sip of cider.

“For my part, I’m something of an illusionist, I suppose. Some dabbling in art and high society has left me fortunately blessed with good finances, and most in the capital are all too happy to have the input of so well-learned an investor and companion as myself.” He chuckles openly at the imagery, turning to the next in line.

Spoiler: Skill check

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Many of the details are deliberately vague, and some are outright fabrications. All things considered, I’ll roll bluff, if you don’t mind, in place of diplomacy. The intention remains to make a good first impression, but he’s obviously not being entirely genuine in the process. (1d20+10)[21] bluff. (-1 if you *really* want to apply diplomacy rules instead)