Arkadi whispers back to Uriah, "I said I was trained by knights, not that I was one. I'm still young and there are ...concerns." He picks up his pace to follow the Deputy down the path.
The familiar and tantalizing smells make Arkadi's nose twitch, but he forces himself to keep a calm facade as he responds. "Seeing and understanding are different things, sir. I've some training in how to deal with darker matters. I only wish to offer what insight I might. If you insist on it I can do it from no closer, though I can't promise I wouldn't miss a finer detail."
Diplomacy roll of 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
"Trained by knights, knight, pretty much the same from my boots."
Wonder who's daughter they caught him with?
Uriah follows Arkadi down and is about to help him with the Sheriff until his new companion's silver tongue turns to gold and honeyed words flow like silk from a poorly constructed metaphor.
"Aye, what he said."
Diplomacy to "aid" Arkadi. 1d20 ⇒ 5
Sorry for the recent dissapearance.
As the other prepared for sleep Silvui once again cornered his brother, for awhile he had kept to himself brooding over the events that had happened and were to come.
We shall help discover the cause of the professors death, but on the marrow we two will stay here, and research the harrowstone and anything else of interest to the area. The books here will serve us better, and the others are plenty enough to speak to some old priests and rob a bunch of abandoned supplies.
Silvui speaks gravely and leaves no room for argument in his words, for once his sly grin he grows when speaking with his brother isnt present, instead he appears dead serious.
Maybe they will be killed or driven from this foolish adventure without us present and brother and I can get on with our lives all the richer for it.
As the others went to sleep Silvui respectfully refused a room from kendra, instead he took to pacing around the house picking out books for tommorows research and investigating the empty halls as if to expose some kind of treachery. Within a few hours however Silvui allows himself to bitterly fall asleep on a chair, his journey having exausted him enough that he finally agreed with himself that rest was more important.
perception? In case needed for the night
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
Silvui wakes late the next day being stired by his brother the others preparing to leave. Silvui eats his much appreciated breakfast in silence, he seems less tense then before and refrains from glaring at anyone, keeping his eyes and emotions carefully concealed. As kendra and the others depart for their mission Silvui and his brother sit and begin their task of researching the history of the harrowstone and local events which may help them in their endevor.
What and how should I roll for that? Me and andrezi agreed to this over skype earlier, to explain my silence and give the brothers more time to hash out some rp together.
"Черт побери эти бесполезные книги!" Andrezi tosses a book down on the table carelessly. "How did the Professor sort through all this crap?" The thin Varisian rubs his back where the chair presses into it. "I'm tempted to just head up to the Prison now and kill whatever I have to kill. Whatever it takes so I don't have to read another treatise on the properties of stone walls subjected to temporal disaffects of magical aging."
Aid Another:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
The heretofore unidentified man in the longcoat takes a calculated measure of your features and your words while you speak, Arkadi, and then releases a sigh. "Aye, sirs," he says and scratches at the stubble of a beard. His eyes appear tired, and on closer inspection you see that this man is not very young. "Insight I could use. My deputies... good boys they are for a scrap at the tavern, or chasing a loose pig, but not the discipline for this work. Or, if you'll be excusing me, the ability. Not that I've it, either," he sighs again, then gestures towards the memorial.
"Mind your step, please," he says as you walk, "Found some track, s'pose it be lucky that we had that rain yesterday, made the ground soft enough to leave one, but I ain't the eyes to follow.
"Name's Caeller. That be Sheriff Caeller to you. Lest we be gettin' to know each other better... On which side of the bars..." he introduces himself and laughs nervously at his poor jest.
As you approach the memorial, the detail of the blood, and its scent become stronger. Someone has smeared a large "V" at the base of the statue, which has been etched with some manner of relief. The statue itself is a 25 foot tall representation of some manner of warrior wearing leathers wielding a truncheon. Blood has been flung on him as well.
Please state your interests and your actions. Applicable knowledge checks are History, Local. Perception is good, as well as Survival to follow the track the Sheriff mentioned, although I warn that the DC is very high.
The deputy gives a bit of a start as he recognizes that he's been left with the more... colorful members of the group, but his eyes flick to Kendra, who has little trouble with either of you, and he sighs. The residents, however, eye you suspiciously, but are otherwise quiet.
"You must be the folk Sheriff tol' us about, from out a ways," the deputy begins, then looks to the residents. "Now I know ya'll heard me, before, go on and git!"
Deputy's intimidate roll... excuse the GM's arbitrary bonuses :P 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
The residents appear somewhat startled, and chatter amongst themselves as they slink away, obviously chastened by their deputy. He sighs as he watches them go, and scratches the back of his neck.
"Some fool kids were up about there neckin', and seen the statue was all covered in filth," the deputy answers your question, Sandman. "Can't very well investigate by night, so waited 'till this mornin', but by then the story been out. Sheriff Caeller tol' me I s'post to sit here and tell folks to stay away."
You may make at this time, a Knowledge Local to know about the Memorial, or ask questions of either the deputy or Kendra
Arkadi squints out from under his hat at the scene, his eyes watering painfully in the daylight. He holds a hand over his face to block the overpowering scent of blood. "Obviously enough that this is a desecration, not the scene of a fight. Someone wasn't happy about this memorial."
Your knowledge (History) Check reveals the following about the Harrowstone:
Harrowstone is a ruined prison partially destroyed by a fire in 4661, the building has stood vacant ever since. The locals suspect that it’s haunted, and don’t enjoy speaking of the place.
It is likely that the memorial is related to this incident.
As you get closer and investigate (your perception roll) you find that there are names carved into the base of the memorial, including that of the man that it depicts, the Harrowstone's Warden Hawkran. Among the other twenty five names is one Vesorianna Hawkran.
You may roll your Int or a Wis check to see if you recall what Levelle said last night in her roll on the harrowstone to make connections, or if you as a player remember, you can draw them yourself.
"Likely right," Sheriff Caeller says, and sighs. "Though I can't say as any of my folk that would do this. We get drunks, mostly, some incidents concerning livestock... Never a scene like this 'fore."
The Sheriff studies both of you for a moment. "Not as though I'm suspecting ya, mind," he apologizes. "What with the Professor," he traces a swirl over his chest when he mentions the man, "passing as he did, up at the prison, the whole town's been walkin' on eggshells."
He stands up suddenly. "I have two questions for you. When the Professor was found, was his body disfigured in any way? Particularly around the mouth or throat. And what stories do the townsfolk whisper about the death of Warden Hawkran and his wife? There are always stories that grow out these tragedies. I'd like to hear them."
Sheriff Caeller inhales sharply, his expression clearly pained, and... confused. "Well, that's the strangest thing. The Professor, that fall of his was real inconvenient, as the most damage was to his face. We," he flicks his eyes to the northeast. "The priest and I did our best to keep it from his daughter. No girl needs to remember her Papa like that."
He turns and looks to the Memorial at your second question. "Lot's of stories about the Warden and his wife, mostly romantical. Kids sneak out this way at night, get a taste of the mystery," he shakes his head and takes off his hat as he observes a moment of silence the base of the desecrated memorial. "Can't rightly say much else. Prison's a part of the history, but ain't had much to do with the town in over 50 years save it's existence. Likely the Council may be able to tell ya more, they're in on the money side of things."
Silvui yawns ,stretches and eyes the book his brother had thrown down. If thats your thoughts then maybe you should not be reading a book titled, "Erosion- the effects of time and magic in the material plane".
I think I have found a few here that may help us, but to be honest im also wondering if my eyes have begun bleeding...they havnt have they?
Silvui says with a wry grin hoping to cheer his brother up.
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
Kendra flushes slightly and appears a bit abashed at Levelle's question, purses her lips and follows the resident's hasty exit with her eyes. The deputy's eyes widen as he looks over all of you, but trains on the women especially, and opens his mouth several times before he speaks.
"Well, Grigori had his britches on, but then it were cold last night, and he and Vania looked spooked enough," the deputy replies. "Ain't the brightest pair, havta reckon none who'd sneak out so far from town in the dead of night just to see each other won't be, but... it's what you'd call an institution 'round these parts."
Uriah has hung back during this discussion, not having much to say himself and his companion seems to have things well in hand.
"Reckon I ain't sure what you mean by money side of things. If the prison ain't in use then how're folks making money from it?"
Sorry for the lack of post, I had a very busy weekend.
No worries. I know things tend to slow down on weekends. I got to spend a lot of time with my husband while he was up last night. Was rather nice.
"Records, titles and such, all the paper that goes with the place. Ain't no trouble for me or mine, all we've to contend with is a few drunks, and the fallout of rural type disputes o'er livestock and land," the sheriff answers Uriah's query.
The sheriff's eyes narrow and he sighs and shakes his head at Arkadi's insinuation. "Me... well, mine ain't properly equipped to handle such affairs, nor should they. Whatever might have done in the Professor is just as sure to do in my folk. Long as you boys can keep from rilin' the town, I'd be more than willin' to look the other way on this," he offers.
"Darn near erryone knew the Professor was a good man. Helpful like. Was a real shame, what happened to him."
"Money most like. Times get hard enough a man'll take any job long as it pays. Better question is who hated the Professor enough to rile up a dozen men into stopping his funeral."
Or hated getting left out of the will?
"Sheriff you had any other problems like this lately? Arkadi, where d'ya suppose them tracks lead? Any ideas on what made 'em?"
"Gibs is about as ig'nant as dirt is gritty," Sheriff Caellar answers. "Typically as harmless as a skin of warm air. Poor folk ain't hard to rally against something they don't understand."
The Sheriff looks to the monument, and frowns. "As soon as ya'll is done here, I'd like to get this cleaned. Sure the Warden don't need to be disrespected like this, and wouldn't sit well with the community."
If you have not previously, you are welcome to try for the survival check below. Again, I warned you it was difficult.
The tracks lead back towards the road... will post more if you succeed on the check.
Levelle nods as Sandman and the deputy explain the situation. Looking about the path Levelle notes in an offhanded manner, I wonder how our intrepid pair of mysterious strangers fairs down the hill. Turning to Kendra, It would seem that events attached to Harrowstone touches the town beyond you dear father. It would seem your instincts were quite right.
"The Memorial honors the prison's last Warden, Hawkran, and the guards that died with him when it burnt," the deputy answers, "Though that were long before the most of us have memory of 'em."
Kendra appears slightly relieved when Arkadi and Uriah return, but she does not smile. "I am certain there is much for each of you to discuss, but I must question the venue," she says, and glances at the Deputy. "Thank you for entertaining us, Miles. I will make myself available for any questions that the Sheriff may have. My father's research library is extensive."
Deputy Miles appears slightly cowed in the presence of a group of adventures, and with Kendra's offer. "Our thanks, Ma'am. I'd offer to walk with you a ways, but it seems like you got help enough," he says, and gives your group a cheery salute as Kendra continues to lead you to the temple.
You cross a narrow covered bridge spanning the river, and several fields and smaller farms that house their attendants. To the right, near the river is a truly massive residence, beyond all reckoning why it exists in such a small and impoverished community.
As you approach what stands to reason is the temple, you see that its eastern wall is decorated with an intricate stained-glass mural depicting a stern Pharasma judging a man.
The man is Count Andachi, one of Tamrivena’s most infamous
Kendra shows you into the temple, making a sign of a spiral on her breast as she does, and your party are quickly met by two acolytes, a fresh faced young woman and a middle-aged man dressed in nearly identical gray robes.
"Greetings, travelers," says the young woman after the middle aged man gives her a nod. "All are welcome. I am Arianne. How might I serve?"
Arianne gives her companion a soft smile and glances in his direction. "That might have been any one of us. Might you be more specific?" she inquires. "It would help if you could tell us which records you are referring to."
Getting information from the Pharasmins will require a fairly substantial difficulty check at this particular juncture. Do not worry, failure will not limit your choices later on.
"The mural represents that none of us are above Her judgment, even the wealthy," Arianne answers Uriah.
Levelle glances about with a bored expression,Surely your church and members have some record of that which someone as prominent as the Professor might have been referencing? My understanding was the church was a common foe against unnatural life...
Untrained Diplomacy 1d20 ⇒ 6
You mean space cadet wizard elf CANT convince the clerics to play nice? Shocked!
Arkadi frowns at being given the runaround. "The ones pertaining to Harrowstone. I understand your mandate is to preserve the sanctity of the departed, as well as the peace of this town. But it's already too late to try and simply hold off trouble. It's here, now, and only the judgment of steel can stop it now."
Diplomacy check of 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10. Bah, where's those natural 20s when you actually need them.
Sandman glances about with a tired expression. "We believe that the professor has uncovered something that could end up being dangerous to the entire town. The professor was attempting to stop this but he ended up dieing before he could. We are trying to retrace his steps and figure out exactly what the situation was. Any help would be appreciative, and very well could help save the town if our worst fears are true."
Diplomacy (Helping Other?)1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Arianne appears to have a slight bit of difficulty addressing your requests. Her serene expression becomes one of anxiety as a threat to the Ravengro is mentioned, and she casts a panicked glance at her elder companion, who steps forward.
"Pray, forgive our Sister Arianne," he begs, gesturing with his hands in a sign of peace. "She is a neophyte. I am Henrick. I am afraid that neither of us have knowledge of the Professor's prior visit, and our brothers and sisters are currently engaged," he apologizes.
Kendra has been listening to your arguments, and after a moment, adds her voice to yours. "I believe that my companions wish to make use of your research library, as Father Grimbrow made it available to my father," she says. "We've... reason to believe that agents of the Whispering Way have interfered in my father's fate, and his notes indicate that he was investigating a fresh plot that offends our Lady. Any assistance you can lend these good men and... the mistress," Kendra blushes slightly, "will not only serve Ravengro, but all of the Lady's children."
Kendra Diplomacy (to Aide) requires 10 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Henrick listens to Kendra's argument, but at the end, shakes his head. "My child, I hear your words and am touched by them," he looks to all of you, "I have heard you all, but our records are extremely sensitive in nature. We have been informed of the altercation in the Restlands yesterday. This community can be difficult, and given recent hostilities," Henrick frowns. "I am afraid that we cannot comply with your requests."
Arianne has been watching the exchange, and she looks to Henrick, frowning herself, and then at your group.
"Mistress Kendra, sirs and lady, if you wish to offer your prayers to Her, I believe that I am qualified to hear them," she offers.
Arianne does not seem to agree with Brother Henrick's assessment.
Sense Motive of 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10
Arkadi shakes his head. "I make my prayers each morning and night, to both Iomedae and the pantheon. There's too much work to be done to spend more time in contemplation. But we'll bide a time outside while you pay your respects. There's a few things for us to discuss."
Sense Motive 1d20 ⇒ 12
It seems not at all strange that fear would take precedence over knowledge. It has been the way of things for many millennia.
Levelle swivels her head around to look about the building. I was thinking that this was not the journey to spend our time on this morning, but we have learned things of value.
Edit: Somehow I missed Sandman's post
Looking about, Levelle processes the exchange of her companions. Well if Arkadi and Uriah are fine with waiting for a moment then perhaps Davor can make his prayer and I might accompany him. I am always happy to see such things up close to better understand their purpose.
I only just saw Sandman's response as well. Paizo site sometimes does not allow me to view edits until much later.
"All are welcome," Arianne repeats, and gestures for any who are willing to follow her into the chapel.
You pass through arched double doors into the extraordinarily large chapel and Arianne leads you a ways in, then gestures for each of you to sit on a pew. She approaches Kendra first, making the swirl sign of the Lady of the Graves on her forehead, and speaks in whispers.
"I have heard your concerns, my child, and I will lift them to our Lady with my prayers," she says softly, and then looks to all of you. "Brother Henrick meant no disrespect. Many of the records are older than this physical perish, concerning the histories of the residents, our lords, even my brothers and sisters. Neophytes are scarcely allowed access to them," she explains. "If... if you would trust me with what it is you are searching for, I may be able to help."
If you do not follow, please let me know what you intend to do in your next post. If you're all following, feel free to click on the spoiler and I won't have to continue like this.
Arianne licks her lips and spares a glance for the chapel doors. "Our records are sorted according to our Lady's concerns. Births, Deaths and various information about the appearance of... undead, and related... organizations," Arianne whispers.
"My father's documents indicate that he was interested in some manner of records concerning the prison?" Kendra suggests hopefully.
Arianne colors and shakes her head. "Forgive me, Mistress, but such records are beyond me. You will have to speak with Father Grimbrow."
Arianne shakes her head mournfully. "Our Father believed that his time would be better spent ministering to them who may have grievances against you concerning... the incident yesterday. Ours is a small community, and gossip spreads rapidly," she says almost apologetically. "Father Grimbrow despises idleness. 'Torpor inhibits momentum,'" she quotes and sighs.
Sandman watches as Levelle stands and leaves. He gives his head a slow shake. "Sorry Miss Arianne, What we uncovered got my friends a bit... impatient. Still, I think it best I accompany them. If you would be so kind as to look into some of the things we discussed that you are able to look into, I would be ever so grateful. And could you bring word of what we spoke about to Father Grimbrow when he returns? If he would be willing to look into some of these things it could really help a lot. Hopefully it is not as we feared... but I fear that too many omens are pointing that something dire is going to happen. I only hope we can stop it in time before the waking world becomes a living nightmare..." With that, Sandman rises up and gives a respectful bow to Miss Arianne. Then he puts a hand on her shoulder."Thank you for your concern and willingness to help, I really means alot." he says with a warm, tusky smile.
If Kendra is still there, Sandman waits for her to arise and leaves with her. If she left after Levelle, he makes his way to catch up.