Carrion Crown [PFS Pbp] (Inactive)

Game Master James Martin

When cultists seeking to free the imprisoned lich king Tar-Baphon violate the ruined prison of Harrowstone, the long-quiet ghostly inmates rise in undead revolt! Brought together by the death of a common ally, the heroes unite to save the residents of a tormented town and lay the spirits of Harrowstone to rest.

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Bonekeep Slides

It is a dark day when the letter arrives.

Brought by courier, by boat and wagon and foot, it arrives with faded lettering and sealed by a familiar crest: the crest of Professor Petros Lorrimor. Breaking the wax seal, you read the following:

"It is with a sad heart that I wish to inform you of the death of my father, Petros Lorrimor. You have received this letter because my father named you in his last will and testament. His body will be interred on Toilday the 8th of Gozran in Ravengro, with the will to be read following. Enclosed are funds to aid in your travels.
Best wishes,
Kendra Lorrimor"

Enclosed in the envelope are 5 platinum coins.

The date of the funeral is less than a month away, which should just about allow you time to book passage and arrive in Ravengro, if you finish your affairs quickly.


AC 17 (T 10, FF 17). HP 39, Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +8. Init +0, CMB/CMD 6/16, Speed 20f
Attacks:
Mwk Scorpion Whip +6 (1d4+2) 20/x2 (disarm, trip+2, 15ft reach), Light Crossbow +2 1d8, Channel negative energy 3d6 dc 19 will
Skills:
Bluff +10, Diplomacy +12, Knowledge (religion) +6, Sense Motive+7. Perception +3

There is a knock on the door and Xerice leaves her bed naked to walk over to door, to find a letter addressed to her slid underneath.

She weights the letter and cuts it open with a sharp nail. Hmm there is still some skin and dried blood underneath. She thinks as she puts the finger in her mouth to suck it clean.

She overturns the envelope in her hand to find the platinum pieces and the letter.

As Xerice reads the letter she curses under her breath.
"It appears I have outlived you after all, old man."

The pile of bed sheets stirs as a male voice says
"Hmmmm, last night was amazing." The handsome man grins as he adds "I would love seconds."

Xerice looks at him for a second, noting the scratch marks on his back. Remembering the letter her face turns to a scowl as she kicks him squarely in the chest and out of the bed.

"Shut up fool! You were fun for a night, but I grow bored of your whining voice already, so piss off. If you are not out of here in 5 seconds I will leave some lasting marks on that pretty face of yours!"
She walks over to the nightstand to grab her whip and cracks it once to give the man a good scare.

He quickly gathers his belongings and looks dumbfounded while stammering.
"But, but, didn't we have fun?"

Xerice cracks her whip again, just brushing one of his legs and making the man yelp and run out of her room naked.

She looks over to the letter on the floor and ponders. A fond memory of Petros passes her thought, delivering a smile to her face. Walking over to the window to look out over the sea she mutters.
"Fine, I will come pay respects to you, old man."


Human Male Sorcerer 4 (Draconic Bloodline) | AC 16 T 11 FF 15 IC 15 | Resist Fire 5 | HP 29/29 + 7 Temp | F +3 R +2 W +2 | Init +5 | Perc +6

Dark day, dark words Cireth thinks even before he opens the letter.

Cireth reads the letter twice, making sure he is reading it correctly. Even so it takes awhile for the message to sink in. Slowly it feels like an enormous weight has been placed on his shoulders. He must go and pay his last respects to his former teacher and mentor.

The world is less without you in it Cireth mourns aloud and though it is late Cireth begins his preperations to leave.

Scarab Sages

Male Wayang #135676-3 Magus Hexcrafter 4: Spd:20, Init:9, HP:35/35, AC:17, FF:14, T:14, Fort:6, Ref:4, Will:5, Perc:6, Darkvision, Arcana Pool:5/5

Zanu read the envelope and takes his share. just to be clear is it one envelope for the entire group, 1 PP per hero, or does each hero have his own letter with 5 platinum?

Zanu is being real quiet and wants to make conversation with others, but does not know how so he stands in the corner, looking lonely hoping someone will start conversation.


Bonekeep Slides

Each hero receives a letter with 5 platinum for travel expenses. I'm assuming you're not together when the game begins. If you are, so much the better!

Silver Crusade

Ezechias, Male Half-Orc Gestalt Paladin (Redeemer) 3 / Oracle 3 | HP 42/42 | AC:20 T:10 FF:20 CMD:15 | F+13 R+8 W+10 (+2 vs death; -2 vs poison, disease, illusions, fey) | Init +0 | Perc +6 (darkvision)

Ezechias's mood grows somber as the hulking half-orc reads the letter. Soon tears of grief run down his cheeks, dropping onto the ink and marring the words of Kendra Lorrimor.

So soon... You can't possibly leave me alone now, old man. I've learnt so much from you... What can I do on my own?

Within a half-hour, Ezechias has gathered his meager belongings and is ready to depart for Ravengro, his mind in complete turmoil as he can't make any sense of the Professor's sudden demise.


male Human
Stats:
hp 72/72 AC 17|T 11 |FF 16, F +4|R +7W +6, Init +3, Per +26
Investigator (Empiricist)2;Occultist 2 [Spoiler=Extracts[/spoiler]

Hearing the knock on his door Caesare opens the door to see his landlord holding a letter. With his guttaral Dwarven voice he adds that the rent is due. Absentmindly fishing out a silver Caesare grabs the letter. Is it the treatise on the poison I asked? It was most special and I am dead... what... NO.. NO... NO! I have to pack and leave at once. Where is my Backpack. I need the black clothes, yes and better add a few weapons, the road can be perilious.
Bringing his affairs in order, he prepares to travel to the town of Ravengo in all due haste.


Bonekeep Slides

There is still a fine mist on the ground as you stop at the gates of the Restlands cemetery with the funeral procession. Kendra Lorrimor, a 25 year old woman dressed in a conservative black dress, leads the procession, followed by the carriage pulled by two black horses and lead by the undertaker. You follow after, along with a few locals from Ravengro, though the party is somewhat small.

You arrived a few days ago, to find rooms reserved for you at the unnamed inn in town. Kendra Lorrimor had word waiting that the funeral was scheduled and she was in mourning seclusion until then. Then this morning you gathered for a brief ceremony at the temple in town, presided over by a severe looking woman in Pharasmin dress. Then the coffin was loaded onto the wagon and lead up the hill to the cemetery. Mother Grimburrow, the priest of Pharasma, waits at the gates with two gravediggers.

Now, at the gates, Kendra turns to you. "Would anyone care to serve as a pall-bearer?" There's room for six, but a minimum of four need to serve.


male Human
Stats:
hp 72/72 AC 17|T 11 |FF 16, F +4|R +7W +6, Init +3, Per +26
Investigator (Empiricist)2;Occultist 2 [Spoiler=Extracts[/spoiler]

"I would be honored." Shouldering the heavy casket Caesare prepares to join the pallbearers.


AC 17 (T 10, FF 17). HP 39, Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +8. Init +0, CMB/CMD 6/16, Speed 20f
Attacks:
Mwk Scorpion Whip +6 (1d4+2) 20/x2 (disarm, trip+2, 15ft reach), Light Crossbow +2 1d8, Channel negative energy 3d6 dc 19 will
Skills:
Bluff +10, Diplomacy +12, Knowledge (religion) +6, Sense Motive+7. Perception +3

Xerice wairs her usual black leather outfit which is not really appropriate due to the low cut up front. She wairs a black veil over her face. She has no interest in people noticing she is a Dhampir and cause a commotion here.
disguise: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
"I am sure these strong men would love to jump for the opportunity to fill your request. " she says indicating the other men present.

-Posted with Wayfinder

Silver Crusade

Ezechias, Male Half-Orc Gestalt Paladin (Redeemer) 3 / Oracle 3 | HP 42/42 | AC:20 T:10 FF:20 CMD:15 | F+13 R+8 W+10 (+2 vs death; -2 vs poison, disease, illusions, fey) | Init +0 | Perc +6 (darkvision)

Shaking his head at the sight of the young woman's improper dress for that occasion, the half-orc steps forward nonetheless. "I shall help carry my old friend's casket, as a symbolic gesture of the heavy burden my grief is."

Falling into an introspective silence, Ezechias slowly helps lifting the heavy wooden case, his face showing no sign of a particular effort, but deeply affected by the overwhelming sorrow. The half-orc's face is a mess, decomposed by confusion, anger and sadness.


Human Male Sorcerer 4 (Draconic Bloodline) | AC 16 T 11 FF 15 IC 15 | Resist Fire 5 | HP 29/29 + 7 Temp | F +3 R +2 W +2 | Init +5 | Perc +6

Cireth immediately volunteers.

I will assist with the responsibility and take a lead position.

His deceptively strong frame bearing a large portion of the weight.

For my mentor Cireth thinks, carrying the coffin in a somber silence.

Scarab Sages

Male Wayang #135676-3 Magus Hexcrafter 4: Spd:20, Init:9, HP:35/35, AC:17, FF:14, T:14, Fort:6, Ref:4, Will:5, Perc:6, Darkvision, Arcana Pool:5/5

Well I'm ready After having prepared his spells
Acid splash, Ray of frost, Daze level 0
Level 1: True strike, burning hands.


Bonekeep Slides

Shouldering the casket, you follow Kendra as she leads you into the mist-filled Restlands along the Dreamwake, a gravel path that winds through the cemetery. Suddenly as you turn onto a different path, you see the way blocked by a dozen surly, nervous looking men holding farm tools. The leader is a tall, older man with a grey beard and steely eyes. He steps forward and raises his hand, causing Kendra to stop.

“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?” she cries out. “I arranged it with Mother Grimburrow. She’s waiting for us! The grave’s already been...”

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

“Necromancy!? Are you really that ignorant?” interjects Kendra, her face flushed with anger and her fists tightening.

Silver Crusade

Ezechias, Male Half-Orc Gestalt Paladin (Redeemer) 3 / Oracle 3 | HP 42/42 | AC:20 T:10 FF:20 CMD:15 | F+13 R+8 W+10 (+2 vs death; -2 vs poison, disease, illusions, fey) | Init +0 | Perc +6 (darkvision)

The half-orc is still bearing the casket like a personal cross, but Ezechias's calm yet dominant voice arises.

"Have you no respect for the dead, sir? Professor Lorrimor was not only a great man, but also a mind like no other. His acceptance of difference was what made him special in my eyes. However, I have never heard someone call him a necromancer before, and I must assure you - he wasn't one of them. I understand that you're angry and ignorant, but have at least some respect for the dead, as well as for those who mourn them. Step aside, sir. Please, I insist."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

Oh well... At least I can blame the bad result in the fact I called them ignorant bigots.


Female Changeling Oracle (Life) 4
Character Information:
[HP: 27/27]; [Armor Class: 21; Touch: 12; Flat Footed: 19]; [BAB: +3; CMB: +3; CMD: 15]; [Saves: Fortitude: +4*; Reflex: +4*; Will: +6* (+2 v. death effects)]; [Initiative: +2]; [Perception: +1]

Oops, didn't know this thing was on.

Cassandra's hand covers her mouth as she reads the letter in stunned silence "The Professor gone? Seems impossible. she thinks to herself. She empties out the envelope and stares at the coins "I'll need to hire a coach to travel to Ravengro." She packs her meager belongings in a satchel and says good bye to her parents before leaving.

As she emerges from the coach Cassandra blinks her mismatched eyes at the sudden brightness from the coach's gloomy interior. Barely snatching her bag from the ground before the driver wordlessly starts the coach moving again she looks around the village square. Noticing the suspicious stares of the onlookers Cassandra fishes a pair of smoke lensed glasses from her pocket and places them on her pert upturned nose, to better hide a telltale part of her monstrous heritage, before smoothing her peasant blouse and skirt. Running her fingers through her raven black hair she approaches one of the villagers, smiling sweetly before asking "Forgive me, but I have recently arrived in your fine village as you know and am looking for the inn. Could you be so kind as to tell where that might be?"

The morning of the funeral, Cassandra dresses in a black dress and pulls her simple holy symbol over her head. Settling her glasses on her face she heads for the local temple. Offering her own prayers for the safe rest of the Professor's soul during the ceremony, Cassandra glances furtively over to the front row noticing Kendra standing alone in the pew reserved for family. After the ceremony Cassandra approaches Kendra "My condolences, Mistress Lorrimor. I wish we could have met under more pleasant circumstances. I am Cassandra Blackmoore, I had the honor of meeting your father a few years ago. He came to my village after I had suffered a horrendous attack and he helped a confused, frightened girl make sense of everything that had happened to her and for her to find her way in the world. For that I am eternally grateful. He will be missed."

Cassandra joins the other mourners at the back of the procession and marches along, lost in thought. Startled out of her thoughts when the procession comes to a halt she looks up to catch the exchange between Kendra and who she assumes is the leader of the mob blocking the way. "Necromancy?, impossible". Stepping out of line, Cassandra approaches the mob "What is the meaning of this? You men ought to be ashamed." She removes her glasses and stares at the men daring them to meet her gaze, then in a softer tone she continues "Gentlemen, please! Can you not see the pain you are causing Mistress Lorrimor. The young lady only wishes to inter her father in holy ground as the Lady Pharasma would have it. This is not the time nor the place to air your grievances. Please let us pass."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21


AC 17 (T 10, FF 17). HP 39, Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +8. Init +0, CMB/CMD 6/16, Speed 20f
Attacks:
Mwk Scorpion Whip +6 (1d4+2) 20/x2 (disarm, trip+2, 15ft reach), Light Crossbow +2 1d8, Channel negative energy 3d6 dc 19 will
Skills:
Bluff +10, Diplomacy +12, Knowledge (religion) +6, Sense Motive+7. Perception +3

Xerice recognizes the men for the ignorant farm boys that they are. She loathes these types and her hand hovers near her whip.

"Ignorant? Stupid is more like. If he really was a necromancer, then disturbing his rest would wake him from his slumber and come haunt this place! Best run away boys before he wakes and turns you all to zombies!" bluff: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (4) + 11 = 15

-Posted with Wayfinder


male Human
Stats:
hp 72/72 AC 17|T 11 |FF 16, F +4|R +7W +6, Init +3, Per +26
Investigator (Empiricist)2;Occultist 2 [Spoiler=Extracts[/spoiler]

Ceasare listens to the people talk. Those people fear what they do not know.
Slowly listening to the rants of the other guests, Ceasare also speaks out. "The professor, was he a necromancer? Maybe, but only if every healer is a poisoner. How many of you asked him in times of need. And how many did he sent away? You do not have to look ashemed I see whom of you he helped. Gladly! So is this necessary?"


Bonekeep Slides

Ezechias' appearance seems to overcome his words and the mob begins to murmur and clench their pitchforks. But it is Cassandra's voice that has their attention. Slowly the mob looks at each other and, though they scowl and look sullen, they step aside from the path. The leader, however, shakes a finger at Kendra and Xerice. "This ain't over, missy. No good will come of buryin' him among these good folks. Mark my words!" But he too steps aside to let the funeral procession pass.

As soon as you do Kendra lets out a sigh and leads you onward. "Thank you, my friends. I am glad my father's faith in you was warranted. Those ignorant farm boys and fishermen never understood Father's true work. I suppose it is well enough that they backed off."

The assault now past, the procession continues up to the plot Kendra purchased for her father. No further complications prevent the lowering of his coffin into the open grave by the gravediggers. Mother Grimburrow gives a short sermon, then invites Kendra to say a few words about her father. Kendra fights back tears and briefly recounts a few of her father’s more courageous or selfless moments, thanking everyone once again for coming. She then invites anyone else to share a few stories or
remembrances.

Scarab Sages

Male Wayang #135676-3 Magus Hexcrafter 4: Spd:20, Init:9, HP:35/35, AC:17, FF:14, T:14, Fort:6, Ref:4, Will:5, Perc:6, Darkvision, Arcana Pool:5/5

Zano watches it all go down unsure of what the right thing to do here is.

Zano asks the leader a question. What do you mean no good can come of burying him among good folks? Is there a curse we should know about? I see no harm in it.


Bonekeep Slides

The tall man shakes his head at Zanu. "He weren't one of us. Consortin' with evil spirits, performing rituals man weren't meant to do. Them sorts don't rest easy. Them sorts cause troubles." The man shakes his head and makes some sort of sign against evil before walking away from you, still muttering about evil spirits.

Scarab Sages

Male Wayang #135676-3 Magus Hexcrafter 4: Spd:20, Init:9, HP:35/35, AC:17, FF:14, T:14, Fort:6, Ref:4, Will:5, Perc:6, Darkvision, Arcana Pool:5/5

Zanu catches up to him curious to know more. And how do you know of this? Better yet, how can you be sure the spirits he contacted were evil?

I know my cha is low, but from experience if you don't ask the NPCs questions, you miss out on a lot of helpful hints. Also, what the heck paizo isn't letting me choose an avatar, I get error messages when I try to select one


Bonekeep Slides

The tall man turns and regards Zanu as if he was crazy. "He were a necromancer. Jus' what sort of spirits do ya think they consort with? Besides," his eyes narrow and seem to bore into you, "This town's been haunted before. Ain't no coincidence Lorrimor lived here, under the gaze o' Harrowstone. Now git, stranger and leave me be!" He turns and walks away, catching up to some of the other villagers who shoot you suspicious looks.

Feel free to pursue whoever you'd wish!


male Human
Stats:
hp 72/72 AC 17|T 11 |FF 16, F +4|R +7W +6, Init +3, Per +26
Investigator (Empiricist)2;Occultist 2 [Spoiler=Extracts[/spoiler]

Looking at the disgusting man speaking to the mob
Caesare whispers to him"Maybe you should be quite, or they hunt YOU with pitchforks. And I have no reason to stop them!"

Scarab Sages

Male Wayang #135676-3 Magus Hexcrafter 4: Spd:20, Init:9, HP:35/35, AC:17, FF:14, T:14, Fort:6, Ref:4, Will:5, Perc:6, Darkvision, Arcana Pool:5/5

Thank you for your time, no further questions. As Zano trails back to the group.


AC 17 (T 10, FF 17). HP 39, Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +8. Init +0, CMB/CMD 6/16, Speed 20f
Attacks:
Mwk Scorpion Whip +6 (1d4+2) 20/x2 (disarm, trip+2, 15ft reach), Light Crossbow +2 1d8, Channel negative energy 3d6 dc 19 will
Skills:
Bluff +10, Diplomacy +12, Knowledge (religion) +6, Sense Motive+7. Perception +3

Showing just the tiniest bit of compassion Xerice agrees with Kendra when she shares
"Prejudiced farm boys like that always fear what they do not know. Shitty little ignorant bastards."
You can feel the hate she has for them. You can imagine she had trouble before with those types of persons.


Bonekeep Slides

Back to the graveside, does anyone want to speak or share a story? Feel free to make Diplomacy or Perform checks as needed.


male Human
Stats:
hp 72/72 AC 17|T 11 |FF 16, F +4|R +7W +6, Init +3, Per +26
Investigator (Empiricist)2;Occultist 2 [Spoiler=Extracts[/spoiler]

Ceasare clears his throat.
"I remember as today, the day we met the great professor. It was a day like today, not because of the weather, not because of the season. It was a day when a good deed was wrongly understood. The dearly missed departed was consulted to help a woman, a woman in dire pain, and hoping that he could help her. Her husband burst in, thinking the worst, and ready to shed blood. It was all a misunderstanding, but from this day on, he became my mentor, the one to ask in moments of cluelessness, when all seemed lost. I can, and I speak for myself, a light of learning has been exstinguished and we are all less now." Throwing a white lily on the grave Ceasare gives place to the next.
Diplo: 1d20 + 4 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + 4 + (5) = 14

Scarab Sages

Male Wayang #135676-3 Magus Hexcrafter 4: Spd:20, Init:9, HP:35/35, AC:17, FF:14, T:14, Fort:6, Ref:4, Will:5, Perc:6, Darkvision, Arcana Pool:5/5

Well said Caesare, well said. I too will miss him since we all knew the professor, I am assuming that we know each other, even if just a little.


male Human
Stats:
hp 72/72 AC 17|T 11 |FF 16, F +4|R +7W +6, Init +3, Per +26
Investigator (Empiricist)2;Occultist 2 [Spoiler=Extracts[/spoiler]

Actually no. Ceasare met the professor once. But they had a long penfriendship


Female Changeling Oracle (Life) 4
Character Information:
[HP: 27/27]; [Armor Class: 21; Touch: 12; Flat Footed: 19]; [BAB: +3; CMB: +3; CMD: 15]; [Saves: Fortitude: +4*; Reflex: +4*; Will: +6* (+2 v. death effects)]; [Initiative: +2]; [Perception: +1]

Cassandra approaches the graveside and sighs. Clearing her throat she begins to speak "I met the Professor several years ago. He came to my village after I had suffered a brutal attack by a creature of spite and malice. I not only survived the attack but managed to drive the creature away. This piqued the Professor's interest and he came to my village to talk with me about my experiences. He found a confused and frightened young girl who was scared of the powers awoken in her that night. He told me to not be afraid but to embrace what had changed in me and to use those powers for the Light. Before he left he gave me several books," Cassandra pauses to issue a little chuckle "he always seemed to have books with him, to read. It was those books which guided me, and though I never saw the Professor again we corresponded over the intervening years as he followed my life and I his. It is a great sorrow that I will never get the opportunity to speak with him again."
As Cassandra finishes her speech she bends down and picks up a handful of the disturbed earth near the gravesite and saying a quick prayer to Pharasma sifts the dirt through her fingers in a spiral pattern over the casket. "Farewell, Professor. May the Lady protect you now."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24


AC 17 (T 10, FF 17). HP 39, Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +8. Init +0, CMB/CMD 6/16, Speed 20f
Attacks:
Mwk Scorpion Whip +6 (1d4+2) 20/x2 (disarm, trip+2, 15ft reach), Light Crossbow +2 1d8, Channel negative energy 3d6 dc 19 will
Skills:
Bluff +10, Diplomacy +12, Knowledge (religion) +6, Sense Motive+7. Perception +3

not this girl for sure

If you listen closely you can hear Xerice mumbling. roll a perception check 15+ should be able to hear it

perception >15:

"Rest well old man, you deserved your sleep. I might even miss you, you old fart."
The insults have a loving touch to them. You can see a small smile on her face as the words leave her mouth.


Human Male Sorcerer 4 (Draconic Bloodline) | AC 16 T 11 FF 15 IC 15 | Resist Fire 5 | HP 29/29 + 7 Temp | F +3 R +2 W +2 | Init +5 | Perc +6

Thread exploded between lunchtime and when I got home :)

Ah, beloved professor, you left us so early. You taught me so much. Not the least of which is self control

He states, eluding to but not elaborating on when the professor helped him contain the power within his blood. After a pause he continues.

And the talks and discussions we would have about the planes and what lay beyond this world of ours. I hope your visit there now is restful and peaceful old friend.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14

Silver Crusade

Ezechias, Male Half-Orc Gestalt Paladin (Redeemer) 3 / Oracle 3 | HP 42/42 | AC:20 T:10 FF:20 CMD:15 | F+13 R+8 W+10 (+2 vs death; -2 vs poison, disease, illusions, fey) | Init +0 | Perc +6 (darkvision)

The somber half orc rises in turn, towering over most guests yet shrunk by his grief.

"Professor Lorrimor was the best mankind has to offer. His vision was not only enlightening, but profoundly humane. He taught me that difference is not something to be afraid or ashamed of, but a source of strength and pride. The Professor taught me to accept me as I was, and that every creature has a chance at finding the light. We now dedicate his soul to Sarenrae, for he was a man of light among shadows of obscurantism."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19


Bonekeep Slides

Your words seem to impress the locals gathered, and Kendra's eyes are wet as she steps back to the grave and lays a rose upon the coffin. She nods to Mother Grimburrow, who says a few words of blessing, then lowers the coffin into the grave. The two gravediggers begin to toss shovels of dirt onto the coffin, as the funeral party disperses.

Kendra approaches you and smiles sadly. "I thank you again. Father would have been proud to see you here. If you will accompany me to the house, we will have the reading of the Will." She leads the way, followed by a distinguished gentlemen of advancing years dressed in a fine black suit and top hat.

Back in the Lorrimor House, Kendra takes you into a small sitting room. An older woman brings out sandwiches and tea, as the distinguished gentlemen, who introduces himself as Councilman Vashian Hearthmount, begins 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.

"To Ezechias, I leave one Ustalavian mace, in the hopes that it lights your way. The mace is well-made, and glows as candle when the command word is spoken. ie masterwork heavy mace

"To Cireth Aldwulf, I leave you a runestone I uncovered in a dragon's burial site. May it help you recall your control. A level 1 runestone of power; functions as a pearl of power.

"To Xerice Lockhart, I leave a mirrored buckler I recovered from a dig site in Osirion. May it always remind you that what other see is not always what is true. A masterwork buckler with the mirrored magic property.

"To Cassandra Blackmoore, I leave my favorite ring. It has always brought me luck and to you I hope it shall be a comfort in dark times. Simple platinum band with a raven engraved in it. The raven's eye is a ruby which will glow like a candle when touched.

"To Caesare Montoya, I leave a lens created by the ancient Azlanti. I have found its influence to help discern truth from lies. Single golden lens. For now, adds +2 to saves vs illusions as well as +2 competence bonus to sense motive

"To Xanu Turok, I leave a blade I discovered in the forests of Kyonin. It is of an ancient elven make and may prove useful to you. Masterwork cold iron scimitar

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

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

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

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

“I, Petros Lorrimor, hereby sign this will in Ravengro on this first day of Calistril, in the year 4714.”

Each of the items is for now, relatively mundane. However, as we reach plot points or dramatic points in the story, your items will reveal new powers.

The will read, Vashian looks to Kendra, who thanks him and dismisses him. He bows and leaves. "I will need some time to decide whether to stay here or sell the house and leave. In the meantime, please stay here. I can offer you each a room and board. My housekeeper, Mrs Baker, is a fine cook." She smiles at the older woman, who wipes a tear from her eye and nods with a sad smile.

"Now, let me show you the chests Father referred to."


Bonekeep Slides

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

The Professor's journal is odd. It was not mentioned in the will, but was clearly used. Several entries are circled in red ink, scribbled quickly but firmly. The final entry is dated the same day as the Professor's death.

The entries read:

"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 before his death:
It is as I had feared. The Way is interested in something here in Ravengro. But what could it be?

Three weeks before his death:
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.

Three days before his death:
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.

A day before his death:
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.

The day of his death:
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."


AC 17 (T 10, FF 17). HP 39, Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +8. Init +0, CMB/CMD 6/16, Speed 20f
Attacks:
Mwk Scorpion Whip +6 (1d4+2) 20/x2 (disarm, trip+2, 15ft reach), Light Crossbow +2 1d8, Channel negative energy 3d6 dc 19 will
Skills:
Bluff +10, Diplomacy +12, Knowledge (religion) +6, Sense Motive+7. Perception +3

cool so far!

Xerice looks a bit irritated as she says to herself (which can be overheard) "Damn that old man asking for favors after he has passed away. Sticking me with a cabal of necromancers to fight and a bunch of stupid farmboys to protect." She gives a little laugh when she continues muttering

perception 15:

"Even beyond the grave he tries his best. Stupid fool." She still has a little smile on her face when she says it and you can hear some affection to her insults of the professor.

Xerice looks around the room and studies the individuals present. She sighs audibly when she says to everyone "And I guess you bunch of goody two shoes won't let me take the books and deliver them on my own will you?"


male Human
Stats:
hp 72/72 AC 17|T 11 |FF 16, F +4|R +7W +6, Init +3, Per +26
Investigator (Empiricist)2;Occultist 2 [Spoiler=Extracts[/spoiler]

Kissing the monokel, Ceasare carefully wraps it and puts it into a vestpocket. "Gents and Ladies, a honored deathwish is binding. My name is Caesare Montoya, and it seems, at least for a month, our fate is connected! At your service! And it seems we need to do the town a service and keep that Prison and that Harrowstone. Although it could be the name of the burned out ruin of a prison. If I deduce that informations right."

Silver Crusade

Ezechias, Male Half-Orc Gestalt Paladin (Redeemer) 3 / Oracle 3 | HP 42/42 | AC:20 T:10 FF:20 CMD:15 | F+13 R+8 W+10 (+2 vs death; -2 vs poison, disease, illusions, fey) | Init +0 | Perc +6 (darkvision)

While the will is being read, Ezechias's face is void of emotion, his lips tightly closed, his eyes lost in quiet contemplation of what the Professor left him. As the last words are said, he grasps the shaft of the mace with his strong hand, feeling the material the weapon is made of. The half-orc weighs the bludgeon carefully, inspects every notch, every carving on the head of the mace. Brandishing it, he says proudly "Thank you for this gift, Professor, I shall put it to good use. I vow to protect your daughter with all my heart and strength, and to abide by the terms of your last will."

Then he seems to address the heavy mace directly as if it were a person: "I name thee "Hope", for in this dark hour it is what is most direly needed. Your light shall bring hope in our hearts in the darkest moments, a beacon for lost souls, wherever they may be. I shall treasure you, for there is no thing more precious than hope."

Finally, he turns to his newfound companions, bowing to them in utmost respect, then kneels in front of Kendra Lorrimor. "I am Ezechias, your devoted knight protector. I am hereby offering you my loyalty, and vow to protect and shield you from danger until you deem my service done, in accordance with your father's wishes."

His blue eyes flicker with passion again as they seem to have found a renewed strength, a new purpose.

****

Later on, Ezechias takes part in the reading of the numerous books left by Professor Lorrimor.

"The Whispering Way..." he ponders, trying to recall bits of information about them.
Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Not sure if the skill is appropriate, but it's the only knowledge Ezechias is trained in. Feel free to disregard if not appropriate.

Perception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (8) - 1 = 7

Ezechias doesn't appear to hear what Xerice said, obviously too taken by the recent events to be mindful of his surroundings. He turns to Kendra Lorrimor, his eyes looking for her reaction, expecting her to give them an assignment.

"What do you think of this, My Lady? Should we continue your father's work and endeavor to stop this enigmatic Whispering Way, or should we forsake it?"


Human Male Sorcerer 4 (Draconic Bloodline) | AC 16 T 11 FF 15 IC 15 | Resist Fire 5 | HP 29/29 + 7 Temp | F +3 R +2 W +2 | Init +5 | Perc +6

Cireth looks quizically at Xerice.

You aren't getting the inheirtance money for at least another month. If you take the books now you are going to be sitting on your hands for some time. Might as well honor the Professor's wishes. It's the least we can do and I intend to do it gladly.

And after reading the journal

Does it seem to anyone else that the Professor did not die an ordinary death?

Cireth thinks back to the funeral...

Were there any unusual marks or things that could have been defensive wounds on the professor's body?


AC 17 (T 10, FF 17). HP 39, Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +8. Init +0, CMB/CMD 6/16, Speed 20f
Attacks:
Mwk Scorpion Whip +6 (1d4+2) 20/x2 (disarm, trip+2, 15ft reach), Light Crossbow +2 1d8, Channel negative energy 3d6 dc 19 will
Skills:
Bluff +10, Diplomacy +12, Knowledge (religion) +6, Sense Motive+7. Perception +3

Xerice ponders Cireth and the other companions' responses a bit before turning to Ezechais. With a seductive voice she says "Well since I guess I have nothing better to do at this time I will stay with you. It seems that the circumstances will lead us to danger tough. I am sure a strong half-orc like yourself would throw yourself in harms way to protect a feeble woman like myself Ezechias? I would be ever so grateful good knight sir."

bluff/diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20
She is throwing up the helpless pretty woman act which turns out to be quite believable


male Human
Stats:
hp 72/72 AC 17|T 11 |FF 16, F +4|R +7W +6, Init +3, Per +26
Investigator (Empiricist)2;Occultist 2 [Spoiler=Extracts[/spoiler]

Sensemotive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
You think you can fool the others, but you won´t fool me "lady"
[b]"I think the wishes of the professor are paramount. And it seems to me you took his token of affection quite quickly."[B]


AC 17 (T 10, FF 17). HP 39, Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +8. Init +0, CMB/CMD 6/16, Speed 20f
Attacks:
Mwk Scorpion Whip +6 (1d4+2) 20/x2 (disarm, trip+2, 15ft reach), Light Crossbow +2 1d8, Channel negative energy 3d6 dc 19 will
Skills:
Bluff +10, Diplomacy +12, Knowledge (religion) +6, Sense Motive+7. Perception +3

Xerice acts like she seems hurt by the snide comment Ceasare makes. "Why whatever are you insinuating Ceasare? A woman like myself just can't help herself when in the presence of such strong and pretty men. I am sure there is a girl who would fall for your appearance as well. Perhaps it is jealously that motivates your tongue?" Xerice says as she snakes her arm into Ezechias' arm.
"Why I would never dream of using a friend of the professor in such a manner. Don't you think he would select a group of adventurers that could work together like this?"

bluff/diplo: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26

This one might be trouble. Oh well I do love a challenge and this could be fun.

-Posted with Wayfinder

Scarab Sages

Male Wayang #135676-3 Magus Hexcrafter 4: Spd:20, Init:9, HP:35/35, AC:17, FF:14, T:14, Fort:6, Ref:4, Will:5, Perc:6, Darkvision, Arcana Pool:5/5
Xerice Lockhart wrote:
room and studies the individuals present. She sighs audibly when she says to everyone "And I guess you bunch of goody two shoes won't let me take the books and deliver them on my own will you?"

holy crap, 9 new posts on the 4th of July

It wouldn't bother me one bit, I maybe good, but I am far from a two shoes. That is his IC way of saying I'm CG.


male Human
Stats:
hp 72/72 AC 17|T 11 |FF 16, F +4|R +7W +6, Init +3, Per +26
Investigator (Empiricist)2;Occultist 2 [Spoiler=Extracts[/spoiler]

"Lady Cassandra, Sir Cireth, what is you opinion. Will you join and follow our benevolent protectors wishes?"
Ignoring for the moment Xerice, focusing on the other two.

Silver Crusade

Ezechias, Male Half-Orc Gestalt Paladin (Redeemer) 3 / Oracle 3 | HP 42/42 | AC:20 T:10 FF:20 CMD:15 | F+13 R+8 W+10 (+2 vs death; -2 vs poison, disease, illusions, fey) | Init +0 | Perc +6 (darkvision)

Ezechias nods and addresses a sour smile to Xerice.
"Of course I will protect you, just like I try to protect every living soul from harm's way."


AC 17 (T 10, FF 17). HP 39, Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +8. Init +0, CMB/CMD 6/16, Speed 20f
Attacks:
Mwk Scorpion Whip +6 (1d4+2) 20/x2 (disarm, trip+2, 15ft reach), Light Crossbow +2 1d8, Channel negative energy 3d6 dc 19 will
Skills:
Bluff +10, Diplomacy +12, Knowledge (religion) +6, Sense Motive+7. Perception +3

Xerice's lower lip is pushed up in the form of a pout at Ezechias' response.
"Why Ezechias, such a cold response. You haven't taken a vow a chastity have you?"

Whispering in Ezechias' ear:

"I could show you a few things if you let me you know"
She whispers as she softly squeezes and strokes his arm with her fingers.
Still doing the act with a touch of seductiveness on it. Respond how you like ;)

Silver Crusade

Ezechias, Male Half-Orc Gestalt Paladin (Redeemer) 3 / Oracle 3 | HP 42/42 | AC:20 T:10 FF:20 CMD:15 | F+13 R+8 W+10 (+2 vs death; -2 vs poison, disease, illusions, fey) | Init +0 | Perc +6 (darkvision)

Ezechias seems ill at ease at first, his cheeks flushed, but then regains his composure. "I have lain with a woman before, but only as an act of love. I am moved that you may think of me that way, yet we have only just met. " he answers clumsily.

-Posted with Wayfinder


AC 17 (T 10, FF 17). HP 39, Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +8. Init +0, CMB/CMD 6/16, Speed 20f
Attacks:
Mwk Scorpion Whip +6 (1d4+2) 20/x2 (disarm, trip+2, 15ft reach), Light Crossbow +2 1d8, Channel negative energy 3d6 dc 19 will
Skills:
Bluff +10, Diplomacy +12, Knowledge (religion) +6, Sense Motive+7. Perception +3

Xerice laughs coyly, pulling away from Ezechias.
"Oh my dear Ezechias, whatever are you implying? Surely a lady such as myself would not lay with any man just like that. I think you quite misunderstood my actions. Maybe my touch let your heart beat a bit too fast and put some dirty thoughts in that pretty head of yours."

bluff: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

She takes a seat in a chair and crosses her legs. Observing the others and their discussions.


male Human
Stats:
hp 72/72 AC 17|T 11 |FF 16, F +4|R +7W +6, Init +3, Per +26
Investigator (Empiricist)2;Occultist 2 [Spoiler=Extracts[/spoiler]

"Well we should investigate the prison, maybe we can get some informations, a little bird tells me that maybe you Madame Lockhart can excel in this field. Gather supplies and find out what else is missing. The dearly departed professor was implying that we have to face ghosts, so maybe our estemeed protector Sir Ezechias knows more about that. Anything else that comes to mind?" Taking out a little notebook, Caaesare starts to make notes, checking the diary, and taking his time to ponder their options.

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