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Sighing more in his own mind than aloud, Anselm takes a breath.
I must apologize for some of the harsh words of my companions. Recent experiences have been stressful for all around. We all responded to summons for the Professor's funeral, and did what we could with what happened earlier. I understand that you care a lot about everyone here, and it's your job to make sure everyone is safe. I apologize if my friends here gave the impression that we're trying to take that away from you; it couldn't be further from the truth.
Taking a breath, Anselm pauses for effect. He is an officer of the law, deserving of respect... we have no idea what he's been through. Is there anything we can do to help out, once we have a spare moment? I realize that things have gotten a lot more complicated and harder for you here since we've arrived, and I know that we can better serve the townsfolk working together instead of against one another.
Mortimer frowns at the turn in the conversation and stands, planting his hands on the table top. "I for one mean no disparagement to your character or your job. Any of us that do owe you an apology." he says, giving Drake a reproachful look. [b]"I for one have the utmost respect for your office, and it is clear to me that this is a peaceful and proper town, no doubt due in no small part to the efforts of yourself and your deputies."
Drake exhales in mock frustration and sits down, working to keep from smiling. Perfect! Couldn't have gone better!
The Sheriff pauses and looks at Anselm and Mortimer, "Ya got that right. I'm glad someone recognizes my efforts. Well, as long as you all respect the law, I guess there's no reason why you can't help out. I'll do my own investigating and if I need help, I may ask for yer expertise, so to speak. Enjoy yourselves in town, for however you are staying. I'll be in touch." The Sheriff nods his head to the party, with a little disgust at Drake, and he and his deputies head out.
Stefan tensed noticeably and physically cringed while Drake lambasted the sheriff. While Anselm and Mortimer attempt to smooth things over, the doctor stares at the detective with a look of shock and anger. When it seems that the paladin and hunter of the dark gave calmed the sheriff down, Stefan leans in to Drake, trying his best to keep his voice down.
"Gorum's helm! Drake, what in the Abyss was that?! We are guests in this town-- we don't need unnecessary trouble with the local law!"
After the sheriff leaves, Gregorius looks at Stefan, and then at Drake, and back at Stefan, siding with the detective. "Drake was not in the wrong, Doctor. We did nothing to disturb Ravengro's peace and order, and deserved no such treatment. Authority is not an excuse to be a bully... the sheriff behaved as an idiot," he says to the group, not caring whether he is overheard by the locals.
The half-elf stands up and bids his mates good night. "I've had enough of today. Let's hope the morning sun brings us better things." He kisses the symbol of his goddess and blesses the group. "Sarenrae light your paths." He then limps away in search of lodging for the night.
Drake gives a sly grin to Stefan, "In a town divided, as we observed with that graveyard mob, and with a single sheriff, one that may be a bit too proud, there are bound to be people that want to speak and tell what they've seen but can't for various reasons." Sitting straight and a bit louder he adds, "I would certainly pay the locals for good information on what is happening here."
Unfortunately, no one seems to take up Drake on his offer, given their xenophobia and insularity. You continue with the rest of the meal, which turns out to be delicious and you learn that vampire steaks are cuts of beef skewered on thick wooden spikes, wolf balls are lamb meatballs served on plates painted to look like the face of the full moon, corpse chowder is a thick stew with red broth and chunks of meat, and liquid ghosts consists of a sweet pale ale that glows faintly with a greenish tint. It seems Zokar is a playful fellow who likes to play with the region's folklore.
After dinner, you retire to your rooms and await the arrival of the following day.
More cold weather and dark days await you the following morning. It seems the dreariness of the region is well-earned. You are still treated indifferently by the locals. You hear rumors of pets going missing during the night and people experiencing some awful nightmares. You appear at the reading of the Professor's will at Kendra's home. She greets you warmly, possibly the only person in town grateful for your presence. The Lorrimor residence is a modest home (area N on the Ravengro map) with crowded bookshelves in every room. The reading of the professor’s will requires the presence of Councilman Vashian Hearthmount (the closest thing Ravengro has to a solicitor), who arrives late. "By the gods, thanks to all who have appeared. I have the Professor's will on me, so let us be done with this matter." Councilman Vashian produces a scroll case, shows that the professor’s personal seal is unbroken, then breaks the wax and opens the case. As he does, a small iron key falls out of the tube, clattering noisily onto the table. Undaunted by the noise, the councilman begins to read after all have taken their seats:
"I, Petros Lorrimor, being of sound mind, do hereby commit to this parchment my last will and testament. Let it be known that, with the exception of the specific details below, I leave my home and personal belongings entire to my daughter Kendra. Use them or sell them as you see fit, my child.
“Yet beyond the bequeathing of my personal effects, this document must serve other needs. I have arranged for the reading of this document to be delayed until all principals can be in attendance, for I have more than mere inheritance to apportion. I have two final favors to ask.
“To my old friends Anselm, Drake, Gregorius, Mortimer, and Stefan, 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 4711.”
Kendra cries a few tears at hearing her father's last words and wishes.
Mortimer, his face grave, and expression stony, listens to the words of his teacher and friend. He nods at the mention of the books. Many a time I helped the Professor with such tomes.
"One month?" he says under his breath. One moment of consideration. "I will be happy to stay in this charming town." he says, rising to his feet and shaking the Councillor's hand. He turns to Kendra. "I hope we will be a comfort to you and an aid in this time." he says to her.
"Thank you, sir, for the reading. You may go." Hearthmount bows to the party and leaves to attend to business.
"Thank you, blessed Mortimer. I thank thee for thy kind words in my time of sorrow. Please, all of you, I hope you will agree to stay as well. I will happily provide you free room and board here in my father's home. I still can't believe he left me...his house? My goodness father. I will need a few weeks to decide if I'm going to stay in Ravengro or sell it. My only link to this town has been severed. But enough about me. It seems father mentioned a chest of tomes. I believe I know where it is. I will be back in a few seconds."
Kendra leaves to retrieve the chest.
Stefan also shakes the councilman's hand and bids him good day.
Before Kendra can step out to retrieve the chest, he turns to her. "Miss Lorrimor, I will stay here as well. I have some skill at medicine, and would be happy to ply my trade here for the next few weeks, if the town will have me."
Drake thanks Kendra and settles into the home, preparing for a month's stay.
Gregorius raises an eyebrow worried about the prospect of spending a whole month among the unfriendly locals. Yet, his friendship with Lorrimore certainly warrants the late professor the granting of this modest last wishes - even moreso if any dangers hang over his daughters's head. He swallows his pride and accepts Kendra's offer. "I cannot go as far as to say that it will be a pleasure to spend the next weeks in Ravengro, but certainly your graceful presence shall make things much more enjoyable", he offers with an honest smile. "Let me help you with the chest, if I know the Professor, it ought to be filled with really heavy books." Gregorius follows Kendra and asks delicately, as if not to invade her privacy, "Miss Lorrimore, your father seemed preoccupied about your safety. Has anything strange happened to you lately that would justify such concern?"
"Thank you Gregorius for staying. As to your question, not that I am aware. Well other than the strange vibe around town, like things are off. There's something in the air, I think the animals notice it. Maybe I just sound silly. As for father, he was out a lot. Every time I asked him what he was up to, he would always clear his throat and look at me with his frustrated sigh and say "Research". I saw him writing a lot in his journal. Perhaps that contains the answers you seek."
Kendra brings out a relatively small chest of oak and iron. Kendra, nervous about the contents, offers you the key and allows you to open it. Assuming you do so, the key fits the lock perfectly, and within are several old tomes (4 in total) and one relatively new one. The newest tome sits on the top and bears the phrase “Read me now!” It is the Professor's Journal.
The remaining 4 tomes inside the chest:
1. Manual of the Order of the Palatine Eye: The rich purple cover contains a brass scarab set with a single eye in its center. Note tucked inside 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 PCs can deliver it there).
2. On Verified Madness: It is a jet-black book. Note tucked inside indicating that it should be delivered to one Montagnie Crowl, a professor of antiquities at Lepidstadt University.
3. Serving Your Hunger: Note tucked inside indicating that it should be delivered to one Montagnie Crowl, a professor of antiquities at Lepidstadt University.
4. The Umbral Leaves: Note tucked inside indicating that it should be delivered to one Montagnie Crowl, a professor of antiquities at Lepidstadt University.
Alarmed by the message on the Professor's journal, Gregorius reaches for the book and starts reading the entries from the most recent to the oldest.
"Gregorius, would you mind reading that aloud? I think we all need to hear it." Stefan sends a questioning look to Kendra, so as to give her a chance to voice an opinion.
Looking at the titles of the other four texts in the chest, Stefan thinks back as to whether or not he's heard of any of them before.
He also ponders on whether or not he'd previously heard of or met Professor Cowl or Judge Daramid.
You find notes circled in red ink and of particular importance to the Professor in the journal:
"Gregorius, would you mind reading that aloud? I think we all need to hear it." Stefan sends a questioning look to Kendra, so as to give her a chance to voice an opinion.
Looking at the titles of the other four texts in the chest, Stefan thinks back as to whether or not he's heard of any of them before.
He also ponders on whether or not he'd previously heard of or met Professor Cowl or Judge Daramid.
Stefan, the names or subject matter of the other books do not relate to arcana, to the best of your knowledge. Perhaps religion?
As for the Professor and Judge, you would need Knowledge (Local) checks.
"Of course. The professor highlighted a few passages; let me read you those first", Gregorius replies. He then starts reading with a clear and loud voice, so everyone can hear. Though the paladin articulates perfectly, he is not a particularly good reader, and sometimes skips a comma or has to repeat a misread word.
"Gregorius, would you mind reading that aloud? I think we all need to hear it." Stefan sends a questioning look to Kendra, so as to give her a chance to voice an opinion.
Looking at the titles of the other four texts in the chest, Stefan thinks back as to whether or not he's heard of any of them before.
He also ponders on whether or not he'd previously heard of or met Professor Cowl or Judge Daramid.
Stefan, the names or subject matter of the other books do not relate to arcana, to the best of your knowledge. Perhaps religion?
As for the Professor and Judge, you would need Knowledge (Local) checks.
"A judge, from Lepidstadt, the name sounds familiar..."
Mortimer eyes the covers of each book, trying to recall any information he can about each of them.
He then leans back in his chair to listen to Gregorius read each of the journal entries, his elbows resting on the arm rests. As each entry is read, Mortimer leans ever forward, his brow darkening. When it is finished, he stands from his chair and, trembling with anger, looks at the others in the room, his eyes wide. "Murder and conspiracy to commit acts unnatural and vile!" he growls.
Here are party's recollections:
1. Palatine Eye: Mortimer recalls hearing of the Esoteric Order of the Palatine Eye, said to be a secretive organization but not much more than that. As he studies the book, you notice the book’s covers are rimmed in polished steel and clasped with a small but intricate lock, the keyhole of which appears to be for a key with a strange, triangular shaft. No key to be found however. It also appears any efforts made to break the lock will ruin the text contained therein.
2. On Verified Madness: Mortimer skims book and announces it is a treatise on aberrations and other entities that possess remote ties to Dark Tapestry.
3. Serving Your Hunger: Dr. Stefan notes, as he skims the book, that it is an unholy book sacred to the goddess Urgathoa.
4. The Umbral Leaves: This lexicon is a translation into Common of the unholy book of Zon-Kuthon.
Drake notes the name of the judge, who is known in Lepistadt circles as incorruptible.
Stefan's face turns down in disgust as he skims the copy of Serving Your Hunger. Closing the book with a sharp snap, he looks up at his companions and Kendra, "This is a vile text sacred to followers of Urgathoa, the Pallid Princess-- the goddess of pestilence and undeath. I've read a few exceprts of it before. So we have texts sacred to the Pallid Princess and the Midnight Lord, and another book hinting at the horrors of the Dark Tapestry. I would posit that Petros wanted to know the tenets of his enemies, which can be an advantage."
He pauses, shaking his head. He gestures at the open journal. "It would appear that our dearly departed friend got in over his head while investigating a conspiracy. That would explain the undead things that disturbed his burial yesterday. I would pose that agents of this Whispering Way are on the lookout for these very texts."
He pauses for a moment, then continues, "I fear that we may need to continue where Petros left off. If his journal is to be believed, and I have no reason to doubt it, this town is in great peril from agents of this Whispering Way."
The doctor ponders what he might know about the Whispering Way...
The Whispering Way is a sinister organization of necromancers that has been active in the Inner Sea region for thousands of years. Agents of the Whispering Way often seek alliances with undead creatures, or are themselves undead. The Whispering Way’s most notorious member was Tar-Baphon, the Whispering Tyrant, although the society itself has existed much longer than even that mighty necromancer. The Whispering Way itself is a series of philosophies that can only be transferred via whispers— the philosophies are never written or spoken of loudly, making the exact goals and nature of the secretive philosophy difficult for outsiders to learn much about. Exact details on the society are difficult to discern, but chief among the Whispering Way’s goals are discovering formulae for creating liches and engineering the release of the Whispering Tyrant. Agents often travel to remote sites or areas plagued by notorious haunts or undead menaces to perform field research or even to capture unique monsters. Their symbol is a gagged skull, and those who learn too many of the Way’s secrets are often murdered, and their mouths mutilated to prevent their bodies from divulging secrets via speak with dead.
Stefan's knowledge of the Whispering Way surprises and delights Mortimer. "Well done, Stefan. I did not know this obscure cult was a subject of study for you." he says. He pauses. "I am sorry to have to ask this, Kendra, but do you know the particulars of your father's death? The location, the disposition of the body, any wounds he may have received?" he asks her, a pained expression on his face.
Kendra stands with her mouth agape, upon hearing Stefan's tale. "Cult of Necromancers? By the gods, Father, what did you learn?! " Looking to Mortimer, she says, "I was told he died in a tragic accident 18 days ago. A gargoyle's head dislodged and fell on Father, crushing his face and skull. His body was found near the Restlands (the cemetery). That's how the rumors of grave-robbing started that got some of the farmers, all up in arms. Whatever it was he was doing there, I am sure it was not grave-robbing!"
Stefan stands and takes Kendra's hands reassuringly. "Miss Lorrimor, I am in complete agreement with you there. However, in light of what he wrote into his journal, that he suspected that the Whispering Way are involved, I am now quite convinced that your father was murdered."
Turning to the rest of his friends. "You might be wondering how I came to know about the Whispering Way, as its very existence is a deep, dark secret. While I am indeed a physician, I am also a wizard, as you may have noted when we fought the zombies at Petros' funeral yesterday. My hatred of the undead runs so deep that I have deigned to devote considerable study of the dark magic that grants them unlife. I have done this in an effort to know how to un-make the undead, to end the scourge of unlife that has plagued our land since the rise of the Whispering Tyrant. While I prefer to simply call myself a wizard, I am myself, technically, a necromancer."
The doctor pauses to see how his friends react to that news. He then continues, "It was a few years after I'd begun focusing my magical studies on the necromantic arts when an older gentleman entered my laboratory at the University. At the time, I mistook him for a professor that I'd not yet met. He told me that he had noticed my study of 'black magic' and that he wanted to help me in my studies. He suggested that I should meet him for a drink that night at an inn on the other side of Lepidstadt that I'd never been to before. Intrigued, I went, for I was quite curious as to who this person was and what he was offering. The inn was small, rather dusty, and had seen better days, and there were few others therein, but it was an odd hour for a drink. He ordered a bottle of excellent Chelish wine, which we split. In very hushed tones, we discussed the art of necromancy. He even gave me a magical scroll with a spell I hadn't yet learned. Yet over the course of the conversation, I could tell that his interest in the subject was more than academic. He was passionate about the subject, as was I, of course, yet his passion seemed almost... romantic? While I was drawn to the subject out of a sense of duty to root out and destroy the things that had killed Andr... um... someone very close to me, his passion for the craft was one of reverence and desire. I tried to play it cool once I realized where this conversation was heading, for I thought I might learn something that I could use as an advantage in the future. But I think he caught my drift at the same time, and then asked me point-blank what I really thought of the undead. 'They are an abomination against the gods and nature,' I replied, 'and I think they should all be destroyed.' With a grim smirk, he stood, tossing some coins on the table. He turned, as if to leave, but then I realized that he was looking to see if anyone was watching us. There was not. He leaned toward me, and said, 'Well, that's too bad my dear Stefan. When I learned of a new young necromancer at the University, I thought we might find a new ally to the cause. But it would appear that we are at odds.' He waved a hand and his features shimmered-- his eyes glowed red, his face elongated, his teeth all sharply-pointed canines, and his breath reeked of carrion. Frozen in shock and horror, I didn't move when an impossibly long and thin tongue snaked out of his mouth and caressed my cheek, leaving a brown stain. It smiled a wicked smile and said, 'I'll be seeing you!' turned, and quickly walked out the door into the night."
Stefan pauses, and seeing that his companions are rapt by his story, goes on, "I was, of course, shocked. I hired a hackney to bring me straight back to the University, and I trudged up to the office of Professor Lorrimor. I thanked the gods that he was in late that night! He could see how shaken I was, and poured me a glass of brandy to steady my nerves. After I told him what had transpired, he stood, a worried look on his face. He unlocked a cabinet, and took out a smaller chest... not unlike that one," pointing to the chest Kendra had retrieved, "and unlocked it as well. He withdrew a small, but old book. He told me that I had most likely been visited by a recruiter for an ancient and dangerous society called the Whispering Way, and there was more information about them in the book. He implied that someone on staff at the University must have leaked the names of potential new members among the student body... or is a member him- or herself. He gave me the book, and told me to read it and return it to him as soon as possible, for he thought that the information might prove useful to me. I still remember his parting words that evening, 'Stefan, you have the attention of some very dangerous people. I would suggest keeping a low profile for a while. Perhaps you should concentrate your studies on the living for a while?' I thanked him, and I stayed up the rest of the night reading the book. I decided not to copy any of the information down, and I returned the book to Petros shortly thereafter. But it took weeks to get the stink of the creature off me, though."
Stefan sighs deeply, and takes his seat. "And now you know."
Are they going to think less of me for being a necromancer? Even for the reasons I gave?
Gregorius hears Stefan's story without flinching; he can tell the doctor is being more frank with the group than he is used to. The announcement of his necromantic studies seems more like a confession than anything else; yet, the paladin makes no judgement.
This is the first time Gregorius hears of the Whispering Way, but between Stefan's account and the journal's entries, they seem like dangerous foes. Before addressing the issue, he comes forward to comfort Stefan.
"Doctor, there is no shame in what you told us. And even if there was", he adds raising with an eyebrow, "who am I to judge you? There are worse things for a man to be than a necromancer."
Mortimer listens to Stefan's story, but when he gets to the big reveal, he erupts with indignation. "Stefan?!" he shouts, but stops himself, though with some effort, from charging across the room at him or simply leaving. There is still an expression of disbelief, and a little dismay on his face as he listens to the story continue. His eyes soften somewhat at Stefan's explanation of his motives, and by the end he has a begrudging softening in his gaze. "The Professor seems to have trusted you, Stefan." he says softly. "But you know the hatred I bear for Necromancers. I wish you had told me sooner and then you could have spent time trying to convince me of your point of view instead of springing it on me in a time of grave uncertainty." he says.
"The Doctor is a kind man, I've known him for some time now." Drake places a hand on Valdrebridge's shoulder. "The fear of other people and the attention of the sinister are good reasons for keeping such information on a need-to-know basis, as we find ourselves in now." Drake looks to each of the men. "And finding ourselves here now, with one friend already dead and a threat upon our skins as well as Kendra, we need to root out this menace before it strikes again."
Stefan extends his hand to Gregorius, shaking it firmly. "Thank you, Gregorius. Your confidence means a great deal to me."
Turning to Mortimer, with a wistful grin and a slight shake of his head, he places his right hand on the ranger's shoulder. "Of all of us, I had though you would understand the most. You have dedicated your life to the study of the undead as well: their anatomy, their habits, their physical strengths and weaknesses... all in the effort to more effectively put them back into the grave where they can rest peacefully. My studies are the same: to know the arcane underpinnings of how they work on a fundamental level, so as to unmake them. A siege engineer must study castle wall design to better understand how to take it down. A hunter must learn his quarry. So I am, in my own way, studying the undead so as to hit them harder. While I strive to know how the undead come to be, I would never, under any circumstances, create one myself. You have my word, as a gentleman and a scholar."
"I understand your reasons, Stefan." Mortimer says with a slight hesitation. "And goodness knows the Professor has delved into such foul knowledge, and while I expressed my concern to him about that, I trusted him to use it wisely. I hope I can trust you to do the same." he says.
Kendra's mouth is agape at the end of Stefan's tale, but as she sees the contrition and goodness in the doctor's eyes, she nods her head in resolve and walks toward him. "I am sure that was not easy to tell us. My father trusted you to fight on the right side and he has yet to be wrong, even from beyond the grave. You have my trust Doctor, and I am sure you will use your knowledge for good." She gently squeezes his hand in comfort. Turning to the party, she says, "Anything else in the journal? What will be your next step?"
"Well, after reading this, I think there may be more to the professor's death than I thought. If this so-called Whispering Way is so dangerous and resourceful as the journal says, then I doubt Petros’ investigation went unnoticed. It would also explain why he wanted us to protect you, Miss Lorrimore–maybe he thought the Way was watching you, too. His research took him to Harrowstone… a prison, perhaps? Do you know anything about the place? Also, what exactly were the circumstances of the Professor’s death?”
Kendra stops and ponders, "Uh, yeah, it is a prison. Or was. It burned a few years back. It's closed now."
"Uh, I told you this already. As for my father's death, I was told he died in a tragic accident 18 days ago. A gargoyle's head dislodged and fell on Father, crushing his face and skull. His body was found in the morning near the Restlands (the cemetery)."
"I think it would be important to retrace Petros' last steps." He asks Gregorius for the journal. Taking it, he fishes out a pair of reading glasses from his shirt pocket, and then skims through the more recent pages. "In the entry he penned the day before he died, he wrote that he was looking to translate ancient runes incribed on the foundation of Harrowstone. He then says that he intended to borrow some items he thought were stored by the Pharasmins at a place called the Restlands, between Everdeep and Black Path."
He looks up at Kendra, "Miss Lorrimor, do you know where that might be? And, along those lines, did your father have any close friends here in Ravengro that he may have confided in?"
[dice=knowledge (local)]1d20 + 6
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. Harrowstone was built in 4594. Ravengro was founded at the same time as a place where guards and their families could live and that would produce food and other supplies used by the prison. The fire that killed all of the prisoners and most of the guards destroyed a large portion of the prison’s underground eastern wing, but left most of the stone structure above relatively intact. The prison’s warden perished in the fire, along with his wife, although no one knows why she was in the prison when the fire occurred. A statue commemorating the warden and the guards who lost their lives was built in the months after the tragedy—that statue still stands on the riverbank just outside of town. Most of the hardened criminals sent to Harrowstone spent only a few months imprisoned, for it was here that most of Ustalav’s executions during that era were carried out. The fire that caused the tragedy was, in fact, a blessing in disguise, for the prisoners had rioted and gained control of the prison’s dungeons immediately prior to the conflagration. It was only through the self-sacrifice of Warden Hawkran and 23 of his guards that the prisoners were prevented from escaping — the guards gave their lives to save the town of Ravengro.
Drake relates the story of Harrowstone as he knows it, including all the details he can remember.
"Necromancy, haunted prisons, undead at the graveyard, gentlemen it seems we have a few coincidences, and I myself do not believe in coincidences."
Mortimer nods to Drake. "I'm in agreement. Thanks to Stefan's research, we know the Whispering Way defaces the bodies of their victims... literally, to prevent magical interrogations of their spirits. We also know, thanks to the Professor's diligence that the Way had some interest in the Prison. I think he went there and interrupted the Way in their work and was murdered for his interference." Mortimer says. "But are we prepared to take this cult on?" he asks, looking to each of the men in the room.
A grim expression crosses the doctor's face. "I have vowed to oppose the Whispering Way from the moment I learned of its existence. They are a very dangerous organization, though. For now, it would behoove us to be discrete."
Picking up the purple-covered tome titled The Palatine Eye, Stefan turns the book in his hands a few times, peering closely at the cover, spine, and lock mechanism.
"That seems to be an oddly-shaped keyhole. Miss Lorrimor, have you ever seen an odd-looking key in your father's possession? Could you think of a place where he might hide such a key? I would very much like to see what's in this text: I think it could aid our investigation."
Gregorius apologizes to Kendra for making her repeat the account of her father's death . "Yes, I'm sorry, you said it already. I... sometimes I get easily distracted", he explains. "I guess I was still thinking about the journal. The whole thing about dealing a wicked organization devoted to wrongdoing had me lost in thoughts", he finishes, the teachings of Achaekek lurking in the back of his mind. He shakes off these memories and tries to pay more attention to the discussion, listening with interest to Stefan, Drake and Mortimer as the groups devises a plan of action.
"Perhaps we should go to Harrowstone ourselves and pick up where the professor left off. From what he said, we must prepare for more ghosts and undead. We should tell the local Pharasmin church about the secret stash mentioned in the journal and ask to borrow whatever may be of use to us."
Kendra too snaps out of her reverie. "My apologies, Doctor, to not answer your questions. It's just all this stuff and hearing my father was murdered...it's just such a shock. But how do we prove it? I doubt anyone in town has heard of the Way. But I must be strong. The Restlands? Yeah, it's the cemetery. We were there yesterday for the burial. Just look for the signs to the Path. Close friends in town? No, he didn't have any in Ravengro. He didn't get along with the priests of Pharasma. As you can tell by his will, he trusted more academic types than local villagers. As for that book, I have never seen it nor the key. I'm sorry I couldn't be more help."
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Quietly taking in everything around him, Anselm breathes a sigh and a prayer to Iomedae before opening his eyes and turning to Drake.
I believe, sir, that investigating crimes of these sort is your specialty? Where do you suggest we start? I agree with Stefan that discretion will probably serve us well, here, until we have greater resources with which to pursue whatever did happen to the Professor.
What have I gotten myself into? Some undead, yes, but the Whispering Way? Where do we even begin to look at this?
Bringing himself out of his thoughts, Anselm stands up more straightly, trying to present a more resolute appearance. He's a bit too rigid, a bit too stiff.
"Perhaps we should speak with the priests, then check out the scene of the crime for ourselves. At all times we must assume the agents of the Whispering Way are watching us." Drake gives a grim look to each of his companions. "Someone in this town knows about this crime and getting to know the people will be important to solving it. Once we've visited the restlands we should visit each merchant and speak to each of them alone. Those rumors of pets going missing and people experiencing awful nightmares should be investigated at well. Even if they don't relate to the professor we may forge goodwill with the townsfolk."