Kendra takes the news rather stoically. "I had expected as much. Despite what you may think, I am not completely innocent or helpless. I appreciate your attempt to protect me, but I would appreciate your honesty more in the future. Thank you for telling me. I will attempt to decode this as soon as possible. My father used to write letters to me in a code when I was a girl, perhaps its similar."
Oh.. umm... you're welcome.Anton looks over his shoulder at Janos and gives a small shrug.
Well Thank you for your help with the journal. Good night, Kendra. If you should need anything, just let me know.
He ushers the ranger out of the room. Once on the landing he whispers;
I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't that.
"Kendra, I'm sorry I lied to you. Like Anton said, we were hoping to spare you from the truth of what happened. Especially the sight of your father's body. But you have my word, truth from now on. You father dedicated his life to finding the truth in many things. We should honor that." He smiles at her and bows his head slightly, hoping she will take his words seriously.
As they leave Janos nods at Anton. "At this stage of grief, her reactions may be differing. I lost my mother when I was young and I was a wreck. We'll see how she is tomorrow. But we stop treating her with kid gloves. We're here to help her, and part of that is letting her face the truth."
Yeah I lost my folks when I was a kid. I know how I reacted which is why I was so surprised to see her so... formal. Between us all its like being back in the orphanage again. He sighs.
Listen, I'm gonna get some sleep. What say we go see that Father Grimburrow tomorrow? Maybe you two can compare notes on these zombies?
Once the door is shut again, a shuddering sob can be heard starting back up from within Kendra's room. The rest of the night passes quickly, and soon morning is upon them.
Kendra doesn't arise during the early morning.
Dantrian rises in the late morning, much closer to noon than to dawn.
He spends several minutes in disciplined silence examining his wounds in a small steel mirror before turning his attention to his lab equipment. Once he's satisfied with his preparations, he emerges from his room and decends the stairs curious to see if anyone remains in the house. I wonder if they've grown restless or if it's at all possible we can have a quiet morning after yesterday's and last night's excitement. Still, at some point today I'd like to examine the professor's grave. Perhaps our malefactor might have left an inadvertant clue.
Prepared Extracts: cure light wounds, -open slot-
Prepared Mutagen: Strength
Janos rises early despite the interruption during the night. He has found himself a proper bed this time and is surprisingly rested. He dresses in clean clothes and makes his way downstairs, finding no one else awake yet. He puts on a kettle of tea and then heads outside to clean the result of the night's activity off his armor.
Janos also walks over to the remains of the fire and scatters the ashes, while looking through them for anything which may have been left over.
There are a few charred bones in the ashes, but that's about it.
After the night's excitement, Drosil has more than a little trouble getting back to sleep. Still, he rises at first light and gets an early start on the day. If we're to fight more of those creatures, I need a weapon better suited to harming them...if I can find money for it, that is.
Once everyone else is awake, he inquires, "So before last night, we were considering going to the prison today. Given what transpired, however, I'm wondering if we wouldn't be better served going to the professor's gravesite and looking around there?"
"Also, if we're to fight more of those creatures, I will need a weapon better suited to wounding them. Does anyone know anything about them, especially what I might use to damage them?"
"Perhaps the graveyard is en route? I think we will find the most information if we get there early."
B'yelka seems unaffected by last night's visitors, at least on the surface.
Tibideau wakes up with a start, and sits up abruptly in bed. That had better be the last time I dream about Prince Stavian III and that damn knitting! He wipes visions of knitting needles and complex sock patterns out of his eyes with his fists and glances at the clock. T******! He shouts. It's 10 o'clock? They've probably left without me and I'm missing all the excitement! Or they think I'm lazy. He hears some shuffling from Bonbon, and immediately takes offense to it. "So what if I am lazy?" he barks at the tiny reptile.
Tibideau glances in the small mirror in his bag and tries his best to suppress an exclamation of horror. His luxurious brown mane is all out of sorts from the fight. He throws on his clothes and rushes downstairs in order to heat up some water for a good washing, but before he makes it to the kitchen, he finds the others already gathered, already long awake. He stops in his tracks, embarrassed, and blurts out, "Fancy meeting you here!"
He flops down next to B'yelka, pulling Bonbon out of his coat and feeding the turtle some more fish. Having missed most of the conversation, he listens intently before barging in with any unrelated remarks.
"Drosil, we need to slash these foul creatures to bits. I wonder if there's something hiding in this house you can use."
"Thank you, Tibideau, both for the information...and the assistance last night. Does anyone else have any preparations they need to make before we set off? Or any preference of where we go?"
B'yelka has been quiet all morning. Her clothes are immaculate, her hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. She has washed her face and only applied a simple eyeliner by way of makeup. The effect is stark; dark eyes set against her fair face and an almost sinister frown completes the picture. She smirks to herself when she sees Tibideau try to hurry past the gathered peers. When he plops down next to her, she pats his leg and says, "Of course we weren't going to leave without you, dear boy. But you may want to wash up before you give some locals the wrong impression." So much for getting to the gravesite before it is disturbed by the locals, that priest has probably 'cleaned up' the mess by now.
After a moment B'yelka rises from the couch and moves towards the door. She heft her sash over her shoulder without touching her hair. She secures her rapier to her belt and takes her scourge in hand. "I beleive we are as prepared as we can be. And, I..." She pauses, seeming to be choked up, Taking this path means I will be an adventurer, not a Diva "I think this journey will mean I..." She stops speaking, hands smoothing the fabric of her skirt over her hips. She snaps, "Nevermind. Let's go." It is too soon to say goodbye to the opera, adventurer or no!
Janos comes back in from inside as the others begin to gather. He sits down and takes some tea and bread as they wait for Tibedeau to rise. When he finally rushes downstairs, Janos laughs. "Fancy meeting you here, Master LeClerc! It's good of you to join us."
"Tibideau is right, Drosil. A cutting weapon will do best against a walking corpse. However, others seem more hurt by a blunt object like a hammer. It's hard to know sometimes."
He sighs as he looks back towards Kendra's room. "I'm worried about her. I feel that we betrayed her hospitality last night. Perhaps someone should check on her? Bring her some food? Or if we should leave, let's at least leave her a note."
Anton sleeps even longer than Tibideau. His journey to Ravengro was on foot and a warm, comfortable bed is a luxury he hasn't enjoyed for a while.
He comes down the stairs two at a time, fully armed and armoured, dressed in his customary patchwork scarf and battered hat. I'm late I know, I never sleep in like that believe me. Noticing B'yelka he comments; My lady, you're a vision as lovely as a sunrise over the Ember Lake this morning. but without breaking stride he quickly pours himself a mug of tea and, leaning over Janos, peers into one of the cupboards, Any eggs here? You seen Kendra this morning by the way?
Tibideau smiles at Anton, happy that he is not the latest sleeper in the bunch. "Good morning!"
"Before we set off on more adventures I should pick up a few extra scrolls with healing magic. We should at least inspect the grave site before heading to the prison. And it wouldn't hurt to knock on Kendra's door and let her know we're going out. Other than that, please excuse me for a moment."
Tibideau goes to the kitchen and prepares some water for his washing. He goes back upstairs for about fifteen minutes. He reemerges on the stairs with French braid pigtails, angled just so his cheekbones appear extra sharp. He returns to the kitchen to grab a few breakfast items with Anton.
Dantrian hides the briefest of grins as Anton compliments B'yelka. He lowers his gaze to the cup of tea in his hand and after a moment his eyes glaze over as he stares into its rippled surface. She has grown into quite the beauty, has she not? Ah, but if Mr. LeClerc had not addressed her by her first name last night, I don not think I would have made the connection with as much has she has changed. I wonder if she recognizes me, with the apparent years this gray hair affords. She could not have been more than eight, I doubt she remembers me at all. He shakes his head then returns to his tea, waiting for everyone to announce their readiness.
"Let us be off quickly - I will look for a new weapon while the rest of you prepare, if you're amenable. Regardless, I feel we should return here before dark, in case more dead arise tonight."
Drosil prepares to go into town to purchase a dagger.
The ranger tosses out a worn, but still very serviceable dagger onto the table. "Here you go. You can borrow this one until later. While you all get ready, I'll bring up some food to Kendra."
Janos pours a cup of tea and gathers some bread, cheese, and a pastry he finds in the cupboard onto a plate. He makes his way to her door and knocks lightly. "Kendra? Are you up? I've brought some breakfast and tea for you."
"Enter." comes the distracted call from within. When Janos opens the door he sees Kendra in her nightgown bent over a desk, with pen in hand. There are several burnt up candles on the desk and it looks like the bed wasn't slept in. The flimsy garment reveals a surprising amount of flesh, though she doesn't seem to recall that at the moment. Glancing up from her work she sees the half-elf and asks "What is it Janos?"
Janos enters and stares at Kendra for a moment, temporarily forgetting his purpose. "I, uh, I... Um, I brought you some breakfast. Have you been up all night?" He offers her the tea and the plate.
"With what happened last night, we would like to go investigate your father's gravesite. We don't know if this was a spontaneous event or if something else is behind it. Maybe we can find some clues at the gravesite. We'll be back later."
After a hearty breakfast Anton gathers the rest of his things and heads out. Before crossing the threshold he says a short prayer:
Deana, mistress of the roads, grant us the wisdom to know the right path. Today and all days.
He heads out toward the Restlands to look for Father Grimburrow and to investigate the professors grave.
Upstairs, Kendra replies to Janos. "Yes, I've been quite consumed with this journal. Most of it is rather mundane, but I've found one entry that may be of interest to you all if you intend to find out what my father was doing." She leafs through some papers until snatching one up and presenting it to Janos. As she does so, one strap of her nightgown slips down over her shoulder, revealing a tantalizing amount of bosom. She unconsciously puts the strap back in place.
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.
"There's quite a bit left here for me to work through. Maybe by the time you come back I'll have more for you."
Tibideau sulks as he waits for Janos to return from Kendra's room, itching to follow Anton out the door. Whenever I get back to mother's house, I'm having the most delicious breakfast I can order. Bonbon curls up in a cute little turtley ball and Tibideau places his tiny familiar back inside his pocket for his late-morning post-brunch nap.
Drosil reaches down and picks up the dagger from the table, feels its heft and balance, then takes a few practice swings with it, flips it in the air, and tucks it away for later use. "Thank you kindly, Janos - that's very generous of you. I will endeavor to use it to some good effect."
"I suppose I have no further need to go into town - shall we head to the Professor's gravesite directly?"
Janos can only look on in shock as Kendra presses the paper to him and her nightgown gapes to give him a very generous view. His eyes trail down and they are clearly not on the paper as Kendra speaks to him. The mention of necromancers snaps the ranger from his stare.
"Wait, what?" His eyes refocus on the paper, though he can't help but glance up again at the suddenly tantalizing woman in front of him. "The Whispering Way? What was your father doing researching necromancers?"
"Um, ok, we'll be back later. You keep working, and...doing what you're doing." He smiles at her and tries to keep his eyes on her face. He awkwardly backs out of the room and closes the door.
Once outside, the ranger leans against the wall and takes a deep breath. Petros never mentioned he had such a beautiful daughter. Maybe I should have taken him up on the offer to visit him before. Clearly there's more benefits here than in the muddy swamp. When he has composed himself, Janos returns to the kitchen.
"Um, Kendra is fine. She's working on the Professor's Journal. She seems to have found some evidence Petros was researching a group of Necromancers called the Whispering Way. I'll um, check on her again when we return."
A grin from the bookworm? Maybe he's finally recognized me?
B'yelka follows Anton out the door, her face a mask as she spproaches the stage to her next performance. When she catches up she winks at him when no one else is looking. Brave face for the audience my dear!
Boob clarification
Anton matches his pace to B'yelka's when she catches up to him and offers her a friendly smile.
So, a lot of excitement last night. I never thought I'd see the Professor alive again and I suppose sadly I was right. He looks wistfully into the pale morning sky but as always walks with a saunter, an easy stride. He owns little in the way of material possessions and yet when he is on the road or in good company, he feels more than wealthy.
I never had a chance to ask, how did you know Petros, B'yelka? Was he a fan of yours?
I wonder if the book I opened yesterday is in the same code as the professor's journal? Ah, well - one thing at a time.
Drosil leaves the house after B'yelka, but hangs back a bit when he sees that she is hurrying to catch up to Anton.
Tibideau grabs his travel bag and slides off the couch to follow the others out the door, wearing an expression of mild interest. "I hope we don't run into any more small children reciting gruesome nursery rhymes!"
"How did I know the professor? Was he a fan?" B'yelka feigns indifference, but as she speaks, her enthusiasm is apparent. "Of course he was a fan? Are you not a fan of opera? I would hope he was a fan of mine, but even I know that I am very young, if talented. It would be unseemly for a Diva to assume she was everyone's Prima Donna." She grins, her words obviously not a reflection of how she sees herself. "But to your first question, I did not know the professor well, but respected his fearless nature and his respect for others." B'yelka pauses in thought, He left a stronger impression than I thought. I wish I would have known him better.
When she hears Tibideau's comment, she says over her shoulder, "What else should children in this haunted land sing? Though it could be worse, we could be in Nidal!"
Anton chews over her words for a moment.
Truth be told, when it comes to opera I've heard little and less. The travellers I meet tend to be poets or folk singers. I don't even know what a Prima Donna is! he laughs with a shrug of his shoulders.
One thing I do know is that last night, with our two companions grievously wounded, it was your song that emboldened me. I've heard many singers that were pleasant on the ear, but few that could touch the heart. I couldn't tell you one aria from another, but whatever your artistry, that is surely a rare gift in this short life. he smiles down at her and in a strange echo of her own earlier thoughts recites;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more.
With a truly sympathetic sigh, B'yelka says, "Not to worry, you are lucky enough to be traveling with B'yelka Morfaine, the great never-was from Dekarium." She continues in a more upbeat tone, "I may not find much time on stage, but it doesn't change who I am. And I am Opera. Just understand that all of the folk songs and tavern bawdys are nothing compared to the majesty and soul moving power of Opera. Even the Hells bow to the power of music, and especially to the art of the Opera."
After a moment she says quietly to Anton, "I am grateful that you appreciate the help I bring." There now, gratitude is not so hard to show as I first thought it would be.
Dantrian pipes in from behind the pair, having overheard much of their conversation, "Well, at least you followed the dream of your youth, B'yelka. I seem to recall your insufferable insistance that fractions and predicate-nominatives were pointless compared to musical scales." He smiles, though the expression isn't much more than a half-grin, and bows his head to B'yelka, "Forgive me for not recognizing you sooner, the last decade was much kinder to you than it was to me and it seems you are no longer the little child I once tutored."
Then I look forward to you continuing my education. he says without hint of sarcasm.
Ah, Dantrian. How are you feeling? If I'd taken a hit like that I'd scarce remember my own name! You two know each other then? And with Drosil and I meeting up again after all these years, the coincidences are mounting up.
The group heads north through the town continuing their banter. They pass through the town's square and come to the wooden bridge over the creek. Next to the bridge stands one of the town's bulletin boards. As they approach, the son of the tavern keeper who was at the Professor's funeral is standing there tacking up a notice. Most of the other notes on the board appear to be weather worn and older, but the one he's posting is brand new. He looks up as they approach, nodding shyly.
Drosil heads over to the bulletin board and takes a look, concerned that one of the newcomers might be implicated in some drummed up scandal.
Janos stays mostly quiet as they leave the house, but whether it's his thoughts about his encounter with Kendra to his total lack of knowledge about Opera, even he isn't sure. Who knew we were in the presence of some sort of celebrity?
"Ms. Morfane, where have you performed?"
Janos stops when Drosil steps up to read the posting board. He steps closer to to read the new bulletin.
"Mister Almaeus, I think you just missed your mark: Musical scales are fractions!" As if to give example to her statement B'yelka's voice rises in a soothing lilt, then cuts off abruptly. Her voice rises a second time, seeming more complete and then stops. Again the lilting note rises and this time it finishes in a natural if ethereal way. "See? Quarter, Half and Full Notes. It is all in context of what the student cares to learn." She grins at her tutor and continues, "But I still can't predict nominatiaves, so it's good I am not a barrister. As far as you not recognizing me, I have not decided if it is normal as we have both gotten more mature, or if I should hold it against you." The last sentence is deadpanned and hard to decide if she is joking, or deadly serious.
B'yelka voice is pleasant and even as she addresses Janos, "I have trained all over Golarion, from as far as Qadira and their strange music to Rahadoum's Godless halls. I am Prima Donna at the Domum Vividi Vita in Dekarium. Have you heard of it?" B'yelka's eyes sparkle as she waits for what she desperately wants to be a positive answer.
Dantrian nods to Anton, "I am well enough, I suppose. Thank you for asking."
He then turns his gaze back to B'yelka, gauging her response. Ah. Yes. Not so different from what I recall after all. Equally stone-faced he replies, "Take it how you will." Drosil catches his attention then as he approaches the posting board.
"Ah, um, the Domum Vividi..." Janos makes a concerted effort to appear like he's trying to remember. Finally he sighs and shakes his head. "My apologies, Ms. Morfaine. I grew up in a village smaller than Ravengro here, and then I was whisked away to live in the swamp. Nearly all the places I've visited have been about this size or smaller."
He pauses, knowing she will be disappointed. "I would, however, love to visit the city to see your performance some time. You have a very lovely voice."
Most of the notices on the board are completely mundane offers of things for sale, or invitations to gatherings. The one that the boy just put up reads,
Last night someone vandalized the Harrowstone memorial statue. Such behavior will not be tolerated. If anyone sees anything or has information that could lead to the vandal, please see Sherrif Caeller or one of the deputies.
Drosil sighs, "Looks like something else we should take a look at. It might be related to what happened to us, after all." And with that, he continues on.
Tibideau listens to his companions' conversation but barely absorbs what they're saying. I always liked the opera, but these men act like starstruck teenagers. I suppose most of them have never had the privilege of meeting any famous performers.
Tibideau eyes the piece of paper on the bulletin board with Drosil. "Well, well! Vandalism! Very interesting! Let's pay a visit to the statue!
"You think mindless zombie vandalized a statue?" He shrugs. "I suppose if someone created them,, they could have been the ones to do it. More likely some prank, but let's check it out."