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Jaye's Carrion Crown

Game Master Jason Sonia

The Carrion Crown Adventure Path... with a twist.


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Male Varisian (Ustalavic) Archivist 5; hp 33/33; AC 16; TAC 12; FF 14; F +2; R +6; W +3; Perc +5; Init +2

Vaghn practically shouts to be heard over the sound of the sudden torrent. "I don't think any shops are going to be open right now! It's not even quite noon though; perhaps we should head into the inn, see if any of our companions went to ground there to keep dry, and see if they still have any of that excellent roast duck left for lunch? Hopefully the rain will pass, or at least lessen, quickly and then we can proceed. Indeed, perhaps the innkeep, a very friendly woman I found, could tell us where the town's leatherworker is located!"


stats:
Hp 36/36 AC&ffac 15, +2 shield +2 cbt ex. Tou ac 10+2 cbt ex. 17cmd F+7 R+4 W+6
Human. Mixed heritage. Mutt from a port city. Warrior of the Holy Light 3AD

I'am not quite sure if we are arriving at the same time but if so Creel will hold the door for you and Mr. Smith.

Otherwise.

Creel walks in to the Outside wiping the rain from his face. "Whew that's some fine weather you have around these parts. That storm looked like it came out of nowhere."


Male Human Inquisitor 2
Vaghn der Grafft wrote:
Vaghn practically shouts to be heard over the sound of the sudden torrent. "I don't think any shops are going to be open right now! It's not even quite noon though; perhaps we should head into the inn, see if any of our companions went to ground there to keep dry, and see if they still have any of that excellent roast duck left for lunch? Hopefully the rain will pass, or at least lessen, quickly and then we can proceed. Indeed, perhaps the innkeep, a very friendly woman I found, could tell us where the town's leatherworker is located!"

Rendel merely nods seemingly lost in thought an easier effort than trying to yell over the torrential rain.

Cheliax

Vaghn der Grafft wrote:
It's not even quite noon though; perhaps we should head into the inn, see if any of our companions went to ground there to keep dry..

Actually, it's late afternoon. You've had quite a morning. The group didn't finish burying the wolf bodies till noon, then you went out to run errands. It's closer to dinner time.

Cheliax

The Outward Inn is a cozy and warm two-story built in the classical Ustalavian style. The building faces the street and can be identified by its four tall, narrow windows that run from floor to ceiling. Faded red curtains hang parted aside each of the windows, tied back with what appears to be yellow ribbon. Although the building immediately strikes you as a little older, the fresh smell of pine and sawdust alerts you to the well-tended bar and tables, all which shine in the lamplight, well-oiled and well-loved.

The main room is bisected by a large bar, which runs the length of the room, ending in a small stage that is prepared for some sort of musical performance. An older man, with a long grey beard, sits atop the stage tuning a large cello. He looks up briefly, when you enter, and then looks away again.

There are two sets of stairs in the back of the room, one ascending and one descending.

As you walk in, the low murmur of the crowd quiets as you assemble at a table in the corner. Too many eyes seem to pierce your rain-soaked auras, but they don't maintain for long. A women behind the bar, sensing the unease, loudly greets you.

"Aye, travelers, welcome to the Outward Inn! You must be the fine folk that recently came into our small and recently plagued town to bury the good Professor Lorrimor. Let me be the first to officially welcome you to the small town of Ravengro... where we say, if you give us a chance, we'll gro on ya!"

Someone in the crowd moans, but the statement is enough to break up the silence and people return to their conversations, hushed and whispered as they were.

The lady behind the bar offers your group a wink and walks over. When she gets to your table, she bends in low and speaks clearly, "It doesn't bode well around these parts, travelers, but I've spoken with Sheriff Caeller and he says all of you, each in your own way, took to defend the town today, helping when and where you could - and while most of these folks won't openly acknowledge it, they know it, too. I'm Sarianna Vai and this little experiment is my business. Try and keep the peace in here and you'll have won a friend in this town, faster than most! And on that note, let me buy a round for the lot of ya!"


Male Human Inquisitor 2

Rendel gives a weak smile to the womans attentions. He listens to the others as they update the group on what they've found before saying his piece or drawing any conclusions. He scans the room carefully noting any faces of ill will trying to see anyone that he could recognize and determine anyone intent that seem to be looking their way.

Perception1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
Sense Motive1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24


stats:
Hp 36/36 AC&ffac 15, +2 shield +2 cbt ex. Tou ac 10+2 cbt ex. 17cmd F+7 R+4 W+6
Human. Mixed heritage. Mutt from a port city. Warrior of the Holy Light 3AD

Creel laughs quietly at the pun.
"I thank you for the welcome," Creel replies loud enough to include the room. "I only regret that I am visiting under such sad circumstances. This is a lovely town and I am sure it will grow on me."

Creel takes a seat with the others.

"Thank you Madame Vai, I only wish we could have done more to blunt the attack. Have you heard any theories about why the wolves attacked? Councilman Muricar has told me that the less informed element is blaming the attack on the professor but is anyone putting forth more reasonable ideas?"

"Oh, thank you for your generousity, this is truly a welcoming inn. You need have no worry on our account there is no place for strife here."


Male Varisian (Ustalavic) Archivist 5; hp 33/33; AC 16; TAC 12; FF 14; F +2; R +6; W +3; Perc +5; Init +2
TheReplacementGM wrote:
Actually, it's late afternoon. You've had quite a morning. The group didn't finish burying the wolf bodies till noon, then you went out to run errands. It's closer to dinner time.

Oops, guess I slept in later than I realized. :P Retcon!

"Oh, why thank you again Miss Vai! Your welcome is, er, welcome! I do not usually drink, but I can hardly refuse your kind offer; I am sure a bit won't hurt."


HP: 28 / 28, Init:+3, Perc:+6,AC:16,Fort:+3,Ref:+4,Will:+3

Madeline smiles at the owners welcome and good nature. Smith hovers behind the seating for a moment, before a small nod of Madeline's head indicates what he should do, to which he promptly sits.

"Thank you, a light wine? If you please, Mrs Vai?" She makes her offer of beverage known to the proprietor-ess.

Cheliax

Rendel Bladetwist wrote:

Rendel gives a weak smile to the womans attentions. He listens to the others as they update the group on what they've found before saying his piece or drawing any conclusions. He scans the room carefully noting any faces of ill will trying to see anyone that he could recognize and determine anyone intent that seem to be looking their way.

Perception1d20+6
Sense Motive1d20+7

Rendel:
You notice a lot of curious glances, but nothing that appears to be overtly hostile. The man on the stage appears, unlike the others, not even to be looking at you.

Male Human Inquisitor 2

Rendel looks about to make sure no ones listening before speaking.

"Good news. We won't be needing Giles for the temple. And the Professor's grave lies unmolested.

Bad news. Many people were injured and hurt today..."

He looks down at the ale in front of him suspiciously as if someone placed a small pink elephant in front of him expectantly.


stats:
Hp 36/36 AC&ffac 15, +2 shield +2 cbt ex. Tou ac 10+2 cbt ex. 17cmd F+7 R+4 W+6
Human. Mixed heritage. Mutt from a port city. Warrior of the Holy Light 3AD

I was able to talk with one of the town leaders. They are aware that something strange is going on and they are hoping we can help. He can't, yet grant us access to town records, takes the whole council to do that apparently, he did recommend we check with a local historian who likely can give us what we need with out needing to disturb government function. That is the good news.

The bad news is that there is an element in the town who blame the professors burial in the Restlands for causing the attack. We need to nip that idea in the bud. I suggest we, and this is going to be unpleasant, that we exhume the largest of the wolves. There was something unnatural about that one and viewing it will lend weight to our argument that something actively bad is happening here and this is not the 'spirit of the forest' out for revenge.

Finally the councilman also mentioned that having a few meals here and buying the odd round will do a great deal to improve our social standing and dispel some of the fear that is clinging to us.


Male Varisian (Ustalavic) Archivist 5; hp 33/33; AC 16; TAC 12; FF 14; F +2; R +6; W +3; Perc +5; Init +2

"Wonderful, I wholeheartedly agree with all of those plans! I am afraid I am very short on spending money however; I forgot to bring much with me when I left Lepidstadt." Vaghn looks a bit embarrassed as he takes a tentative sip from his tankard. He then looks pleased and takes a bigger one.

Cheliax

After a round of passable wine and decent ale, the innkeeper, Miss Vai returns to your table alongside a younger serving girl. Both have several stacks of plates, piled with breads, greens, cheeses, and what smells like a fine, hot stew. The two quickly work, clearing room on your table and placing the 3 courses before each of you, smiling as they do. When they are done, Miss Vai says,

"Aye' thought you could use a good, hot meal to kick back some of this cold. An' this one is on the house. No, no. I won't have ya' arguing about it. Ya' coin is no good this night! It's the least I can do for the folks that saved Kendra Lorrimor from even more tragedy!"

After depositing all of the piles of food, she smiles again and then departs. Her serving girl, a redhead with bright green eyes, steals a glance at each of you while refilling your drinks. She's no more than 16 summers, with a bright color in her cheeks that suggests she's been giggling or recently embarrassed. After finishing, she wipes her hands on her brown and tan apron and bows slightly. Then she says,

"Sirs, mam,' if there is anything else you desire, please call on me. My good name is Athelliana, but most people call me Theli for short."

As the serving girl departs, the aroma of the food strikes you - with a richness that comes only from places as remote as Ravengro. The smells of fresh bread, warm butter, garden greens, and piping-hot stew mix with the smell of pine in a manner that's almost intoxicating. You may not have noticed it before, but you're all very hungry.

The man with the cello begins to play a haunting tune...


HP: 28 / 28, Init:+3, Perc:+6,AC:16,Fort:+3,Ref:+4,Will:+3

Madeline smiles in response to Vai's offer and presentation of food. She nods in way of thanks to 'Theli', also leaving a scattering of silver pieces as a friendly 'tip' (1 or 2 Silver?)

Madeline only listens to the other bard with half an ear as her attention focuses upon the meal before her.

Smith gives the room and its occupants one studied look and then watches the group.

Perception:1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30

After a small amount of time, he also begins to eat the meal placed before him. Though his actions more 'mimic' and 'ape' those of his companions.


Male Human Inquisitor 2

Rendel eats his meal with apparent enjoyment continuing to leave the ale untouched.

"You can exhume the body of the big one if you like Sir Creel, but I doubt you'll find much more than myself and the druid Torthen found already. They were natural, up to a point. They had an unnatural look in their eyes, all of them, and were changed in soem way, perhaps magical, perhaps extreme conditioning. If you think you can find out more feel free."

Looking up he chewed a thoughtful bite before continuing.

"The notes I found weren't the only ones. Only the most recent. I didn't think about it before now but it seems we won't be able to do much until tomorrow anyway so the rest of the day we can spend pouring through those. The professor's conflict with our current adversaries has gone for the better part of a decade. He likely wrote extensively about them."

Turning to Smith he allowed himself a smirk. "Neat trick. Once you've taught it how to bleed and sweat you might actually be able to pull it off."

Cheliax

Madeline Peshtussle wrote:
Perception:1d20+12

Smith:
Smith notices a great deal, most notably that nearly everyone in the dining room continues to look at him, some of them even staring - as if trying to figure out where's from. When he moves to eat, most of them stop and watch, curious. Whenever he slyly looks over, he finds even the staff looking at him, and when not he, his mistress.

He also notices that the man playing the cello is weeping.


HP: 22 / 33, Init:+1, Perc:+12, Fort:+7,Ref:+3,Will:+4

Though Smith is aware of everyone's actions towards him, he continues to behave as his Mistress has directed. The singer's behaviors, however does strike a discordance with in himself.

"Mistress...?" He attracts Madeline's attention and gestures towards the person with the instrument. "Distress...?" Are his words to indicate what he thinks might be the man's condition.


HP: 28 / 28, Init:+3, Perc:+6,AC:16,Fort:+3,Ref:+4,Will:+3
Rendel Bladetwist wrote:
Turning to Smith he allowed himself a smirk. "Neat trick. Once you've taught it how to bleed and sweat you might actually be able to pull it off."

At Rendel's addressing of Smith, Madeline's glance flickers between the pair. At Rendel's words Madeline's face,

Will Save:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Pales a little and she now looks around the room, her pleasant meal forgotten.

Perception:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

At her Man-servant's prompting she does look at the Bard to see what about him has caused Smith's comment. Speaking aside to Rendel and the others seated at the table, she says quietly,

"If there are questions you would ask, perhaps once we have returned to the Ladies manse?" She suggests in a hushed tone.

So what, pray-tell, is causing the Bard's distress? Or has his melancholic music affected even himself?

Cheliax

Outside, the rain begins to beat harder, tapping the tall glass windows violently. The man on stage, not to be undone, begins to play his cello with a deeper, almost passionate abandon. He bows his head, tears streaming from his face. A somber feel begins to travel through the inn, with all the tables surrounding you lowering their voices to a mutter, if not outright silence.


stats:
Hp 36/36 AC&ffac 15, +2 shield +2 cbt ex. Tou ac 10+2 cbt ex. 17cmd F+7 R+4 W+6
Human. Mixed heritage. Mutt from a port city. Warrior of the Holy Light 3AD
TheReplacementGM wrote:

,

"Aye' thought you could use a good, hot meal to kick back some of this cold. An' this one is on the house. No, no. I won't have ya' arguing about it. Ya' coin is no good this night! It's the least I can do for the folks that saved Kendra Lorrimor from even more tragedy!"

"Thank you Miss Vai, Ravengro is truly a welcoming community."

TheReplacementGM wrote:

After depositing all of the piles of food, she smiles again and then departs. Her serving girl, a redhead with bright green eyes, steals a glance at each of you while refilling your drinks. She's no more than 16 summers, with a bright color in her cheeks that suggests she's been giggling or recently embarrassed. After finishing, she wipes her hands on her brown and tan apron and bows slightly. Then she says,

"Sirs, mam,' if there is anything else you desire, please call on me. My good name is Athelliana, but most people call me Theli for short."

"Thank you Theli.It is good to see a smile on a day like today."

TheReplacementGM wrote:

As the serving girl departs, the aroma of the food strikes you - with a richness that comes only from places as remote as Ravengro. The smells of fresh bread, warm butter, garden greens, and piping-hot stew mix with the smell of pine in a manner that's almost intoxicating. You may not have noticed it before, but you're all very hungry.

The man with the cello begins to play a haunting tune...

Creel holds up a fresh cup of Ale. He seems to address his companions but his voice is carefully pitched. Not so loud as to compete with the music but loud enough that anyone who wants to overhear will have no difficulty. "You see my friends, this is why we do what we do. This is why we walk the marches, why we spend hours pouring over old books learning things we would really rather not know. This is why we spend our days tracking horrors and our nights destroying them."

"Ale."

"Because ale takes time and skill and peace to brew well. It takes a healthy community, healthy farms, good people, to create something this good, this important. It's the people who do this, who create farms and lives and business that are important. People like ourselves, and like the professor to an extent, are necessary, we perform an unpleasant but needed task. But we are not important. Community is, peace is, Ravengro is important."


stats:
Hp 36/36 AC&ffac 15, +2 shield +2 cbt ex. Tou ac 10+2 cbt ex. 17cmd F+7 R+4 W+6
Human. Mixed heritage. Mutt from a port city. Warrior of the Holy Light 3AD
TheReplacementGM wrote:
Outside, the rain begins to beat harder, tapping the tall glass windows violently. The man on stage, not to be undone, begins to play his cello with a deeper, almost passionate abandon. He bows his head, tears streaming from his face. A somber feel begins to travel through the inn, with all the tables surrounding you lowering their voices to a mutter, if not outright silence.

Creel stands up from the table, "Time and place friend Rendel, time and place."

Creel walks quietly over to Miss Vai at the bar.

Speaking very quietly, "Don't mean to interrupt but is that man all right? He seems to be in real distress."


Male Varisian (Ustalavic) Archivist 5; hp 33/33; AC 16; TAC 12; FF 14; F +2; R +6; W +3; Perc +5; Init +2

Even though he has not even finished his first tankard, Vaghn already looks rather tipsy as he sways in his chair to the music. His characteristic smile fades as the tune grows more and more somber, until his eyes shine instead with unshed tears.


Male Human Inquisitor 2

Rendel self consciously buries himself deeper into his seat and own clothing endeavoring to avoid the attention. Clearly Rendel is made uncomfortable by the paladin's display. The ale remains untouched.

Cheliax

Creel wrote:

Creel walks quietly over to Miss Vai at the bar.

Speaking very quietly, "Don't mean to interrupt but is that man all right? He seems to be in real distress."

Miss Vai looks at you and frowns. "That's Ol' Man Gardner. He lost his boy this morning. He asked to play tonight, as a tribute. Obviously, I agreed."

Miss Vai looks away, focusing on the man who's skill at the cello would rival many of the professionally trained bards in the larger cities, before turning her glance back to you.

"I'd enjoy the show, but I'd otherwise steer clear. He's sensitive right now and will need a good while before he's approachable, especially by strangers..."


stats:
Hp 36/36 AC&ffac 15, +2 shield +2 cbt ex. Tou ac 10+2 cbt ex. 17cmd F+7 R+4 W+6
Human. Mixed heritage. Mutt from a port city. Warrior of the Holy Light 3AD

Creel replies in a still softer voice.
'The poor man. Thank you Miss Vai."

Returning to the table Creel whispers to his companions.
'The cellist's name is Mr Gardner. His son died this morning.'

TheReplacementGM wrote:
Creel wrote:

Creel walks quietly over to Miss Vai at the bar.

Speaking very quietly, "Don't mean to interrupt but is that man all right? He seems to be in real distress."

Miss Vai looks at you and frowns. "That's Ol' Man Gardner. He lost his boy this morning. He asked to play tonight, as a tribute. Obviously, I agreed."

Miss Vai looks away, focusing on the man who's skill at the cello would rival many of the professionally trained bards in the larger cities, before turning her glance back to you.

"I'd enjoy the show, but I'd otherwise steer clear. He's sensitive right now and will need a good while before he's approachable, especially by strangers..."


Male Human Inquisitor 2
Creel wrote:

Creel replies in a still softer voice.

'The poor man. Thank you Miss Vai."

Returning to the table Creel whispers to his companions.
'The cellist's name is Mr Gardner. His son died this morning.'

"We heard of him earlier." Rendel spoke from his hiding place in his chair. "A man of the woods we had been told."


stats:
Hp 36/36 AC&ffac 15, +2 shield +2 cbt ex. Tou ac 10+2 cbt ex. 17cmd F+7 R+4 W+6
Human. Mixed heritage. Mutt from a port city. Warrior of the Holy Light 3AD
Rendel Bladetwist wrote:
Creel wrote:

Creel replies in a still softer voice.

'The poor man. Thank you Miss Vai."

Returning to the table Creel whispers to his companions.
'The cellist's name is Mr Gardner. His son died this morning.'

"We heard of him earlier." Rendel spoke from his hiding place in his chair. "A man of the woods we had been told."

Creel continues in the soft quiet tone. "A useful man to know then, he may have seen something of the comings and goings of the cult, but he will need time to grieve alone."


HP: 28 / 28, Init:+3, Perc:+6,AC:16,Fort:+3,Ref:+4,Will:+3

Knowing of family loss herself, Madeline just nods at Creel's information. Also, her appetite seems to have left her and Madeline only picks at the food upon her plate.

"Have we concluded our business here then, gentlemen?" She asks, her quiet words also slightly terse. Her eyes continue to flicker around the tavern room, gauging the attitudes of the common folk around them.

Smith continues to eat his meal. Fastidiously cleaning the plate with the hunks of fresh bread provided by the serving girl, before setting it precisely aside.

Cheliax

After playing for what feels like ten or more minutes, the man on stage draws his first song to a close. Then he bows his head in silence for several moments, the rest of the tavern following suite. After several moments, the place is complete silence - even the sounds in the kitchen have ceased.

Then, without fanfare or any showmanship, the man raises his head and says, in a somber but clear voice, "For little Martie..."

Then he bows his head again and begins to play. The song he plays is slow, haunting, and seems to hold most of the tavern in its grasp. Only the gentle tip-tap-tip-tap of the rain on the windows can be heard aside his song.

You hadn't noticed it before, but now you smell the hint of jasmine, which mixes with the pine, creating an interesting aroma. Blended with the sound of the rain, the ale, and the song, you can see how some might grow tired...


Male Human Inquisitor 2

"I have business to attend to here other than what we've discussed." Rendel says in a whispered voice. "If you get to Kendra's before me I encourage you to find those other notes in that chest before persuing the other volumes."


Male Varisian (Ustalavic) Archivist 5; hp 33/33; AC 16; TAC 12; FF 14; F +2; R +6; W +3; Perc +5; Init +2

"He was like a father to me," Vaghn mutters to no one in particular. "He wasn't there very often, but when he was he taught me about... well, everything. And I think, when I got my professorship, he was really proud of me." Tears start to leak out of his bleary eyes. "So why wasn't I included? Why didn't he put me in his will? Not to give me stuff, I don't care about that, but to entrust me in this last great adventure like he did with the rest of you? Some of you barely seem to have liked him, and yet you were at his funeral and I was not!" Vaghn pulls out a sodden handkerchief and blows his nose. "I bet I know why. He knew how I feel about Kendra. He never said anything, but he knew. And while he cared about me, I still wasn't good enough for his daughter, so he decided to keep us apart. Thankfully Kendra cared enough to send a letter anyway, even if it did arrive too late." He sniffles and lays his head down on the table, nearly putting his hand in a plate of half-eaten food. He continues to mumble inaudibly to himself for a minute, then his eyes close and he drifts off to sleep.

I decided Vaghn can't hold his liquor at all. :P


HP: 28 / 28, Init:+3, Perc:+6,AC:16,Fort:+3,Ref:+4,Will:+3

Will Save Madeline:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

Madeline sighs as emotions sweep through her, and while sadness and regret are there it is anger at the brutality and injustice of the world that stokes her emotions more than the dolorous feelings of anguish. She tries to stoke her fury against the world even as lethargy begins to win against her limbs and mind.

Will Save Smith:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

Smith listens to the sounds of the man and the elements, both being seeming slightly passing strange to him.

Perception:1d20 + 12 ⇒ (12) + 12 = 24

He looks about the room, possibly to gauge the rest of the patron's reactions to the sounds of the evening.

Cheliax

Madeline Peshtussle wrote:
He looks about the room, possibly to gauge the rest of the patron's reactions to the sounds of the evening.

Smith doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary.


stats:
Hp 36/36 AC&ffac 15, +2 shield +2 cbt ex. Tou ac 10+2 cbt ex. 17cmd F+7 R+4 W+6
Human. Mixed heritage. Mutt from a port city. Warrior of the Holy Light 3AD
Vaghn der Grafft wrote:

"He was like a father to me," Vaghn mutters to no one in particular. "He wasn't there very often, but when he was he taught me about... well, everything. And I think, when I got my professorship, he was really proud of me." Tears start to leak out of his bleary eyes. "So why wasn't I included? Why didn't he put me in his will? Not to give me stuff, I don't care about that, but to entrust me in this last great adventure like he did with the rest of you? Some of you barely seem to have liked him, and yet you were at his funeral and I was not!" Vaghn pulls out a sodden handkerchief and blows his nose. "I bet I know why. He knew how I feel about Kendra. He never said anything, but he knew. And while he cared about me, I still wasn't good enough for his daughter, so he decided to keep us apart. Thankfully Kendra cared enough to send a letter anyway, even if it did arrive too late." He sniffles and lays his head down on the table, nearly putting his hand in a plate of half-eaten food. He continues to mumble inaudibly to himself for a minute, then his eyes close and he drifts off to sleep.

I decided Vaghn can't hold his liquor at all. :P

Creel looks at the others around the table.

"I think it would be best if we simply never heard that. He needs his rest, we have all been under a great deal of pressure lately."


Male Human Inquisitor 2

Rendel says nothing but simply files away the information.

"So we are agreed? Tonight we look over the rest of the notes and tomorrow we finish what we started today?"


HP: 28 / 28, Init:+3, Perc:+6,AC:16,Fort:+3,Ref:+4,Will:+3

Madeline stirs herself from her lethargy and nods in agreement with Rendel's question.

"Indeed, seeking rest after the days exertions would seem a fine idea." Then she catches herself as all of Rendel's sentence sorts itself out in her mind.

"I mean, yes, working through those notes and such before we turn in is a good idea." She explains.

Cheliax

Part 1:

As the evening comes to a close, the man atop the stage - Ol' Man Gardner by name - hefts his cello for a final performance, pulling the massive thing up into his lap and leaning into it. With each sweep of his bow, the tune drifts deeper toward melancholy, holding the patrons of the Outward Inn fast in its somber embrace. He plays this way, deeply moved, for nearly ten minutes. When he's done, he stands, bows slightly, and hefts the cello over his shoulder with little effort. He turns toward Ms. Vai, nods, and hops off the small stage.

The audience, adrift and at peace, doesn't seem to notice him depart. If they do, their lack of applause only serves to further frame the impact of his performance. By the time he reaches the door, the people about him appear to stir, a haze of murmurs replacing the heavy silence. His gently closes it, stepping out into the rain without even a glance back.

If you notice anything strange, it is one simple fact; Never once did the man look in your direction.

It takes the room 15 minutes or so to return to normal life, but when it has, the rain outside has begun to let up. Patrons finish rounds, serving girls collect plates and mugs, and before you realize it, even your group is headed for the clear, crisp night.

The air is fresh, electric after the storm. You can smell the ionized air, and far off, the slightly roll of thunder departing reminds you of the majesty of nature. Your walk home is relatively silent, with questions about keys, notes, and forbidden tomes offered only in hushed, unsure tones. It doesn't take long for you to cross the river and return to the Lorrimor Estate.

When you arrive, you find Miss Kendra Lorrimor awake, having tea with Tharnik in her kitchen. She smiles as you enter, waving each of you in.

"I see you made it through the storm without incident. I suppose I should tell you that, among your friends, only Tharnik remains. It seems the man, Giles, who fancied himself a ladies' man, was nothing more than a rogue of the worse sorts. He slipped out this afternoon, while I was having my nap, with a few minor valuables and one of my father's good bottles of brandy. When we discovered the theft, Tharnik offered to go after him, but I asked him to remain. Instead, your dwarven friend, the quiet one with the skin condition, left. I don't know if we'll see either again, but I am sure that justice is quickly on his tail. Or not. At this point, I am too tired to care." Kendra smiles weakly, takes a sip from her tea, and continues.

"I would to thank each of you for your time, and up to this point, your patience. I know I have been a bit dramatic recently, but the death of my father has been hard for me to deal with. It's not something I expected, this soon, and I would have liked to have had more time with him. I trust you understand."

"Tharnik pointed out that one of you discovered two vials of healing extracts in the basement. While I'm sure they belonged to my father and were meant for an emergency, I'd like you to have them. It is the least I can do to repay each of you... which reminds me. Since your friend left early, even in pursuit of that vile drunk, he - according to my understanding of the Will - forfeits his share of the monies left. So, I'll leave it to your group to determine how best that is divvied, although I suspect it's not a major concern for any of you."

"I've also noticed that, among the letters sent out, not all whom I invited to my father's funeral have arrived. I was surprised, in fact, that Professor Der Grafft arrived with that ... that man. Another from your University, if my memory serves, was invited to attend. Yet, he still remains absent."

"There were several others, as well, and in total, I had expected about 13 to attend. As you know, that did not come to pass. So, perhaps we shall meet more of your companions - and I shall learn more about my father's legacy - before the month is out?"

With that, Kendra pauses and Tharnik speaks, "I don't know what you guys will be doing, but I'm staying put. I've decided Kendra needs a strong arm at her defense, and I'm going to be that orc. It's the least I could do for her father. So, you'll have to move about the town without me."

With that, Kendra looks over at Tharnik and offers him a smile. The two share a nod and then look back toward you. Kendra finishes.

"I've prepared rooms for you, so you should each be comfortable tonight. I'll speak with each of you in the morning."

With that, Kendra gets up and Tharnik, quick to rise, accompanies her.

Cheliax

For Strauss:

You departed the University of Lepidstadt in Ustalav without fanfare in the middle of the night, with only a handful of inebriated students taking note of your departure. You waved off your share of questions and by morning, were blissfully free of future "Heeyyyyy whar ya headed at thsssh time o' night"s. Unlike the labs and libraries you were accustomed to, the outside air was clean and crisp. It offered you a gentle reminder that life, even from the most profound scene to the most complex of physical sciences, was vibrant, mutable, and filled with the æther of the unknown - the very stuff you sought to unlock and understand.

Your journeyed hard for nearly two weeks, either alone or on occasion, with others. Your trip was not without its own burdens, and a few nights before reaching Ravengro, you were nearly done in by a trio of crafty goblin ambushers. Luck, however, was on your side. You caught two with a sulfur cocktail, sending them aflame and screaming into the night. The last determined to wreck vengeance, pressed his attack. You were the quicker, however, and his dirty blade only bit into your arm. You finished him with a well-placed crossbow shot to the head.

It goes without saying that, even as the rain poured down, your arrival in Ravengro was a breath of fresh air. Unable to find an open inn at such a late hour, you were forced to sleep inside an old barn on the north side of the town. Thankfully, the farm's rooster ensured you were up and about before discovery.

Welcome to Ravengro...


HP: 28 / 28, Init:+3, Perc:+6,AC:16,Fort:+3,Ref:+4,Will:+3

Madeline does offer some small words of condolences and understanding to Kendra, though the performance by the bard at the Inn has left Madeline feeling both more somber than is the norm as well as bringing to the fore a lethargy that she hopes a good night's sleep will cure.

She does turn to Rendel,

"Well, shall we peruse the papers?" She asks, looking to every one so as to include them in her question.

Cheliax

For Dortlin:
Word passes fast in southern Ustalav, so it didn't take more than a few days for you to hear of Professor Lorrimor's passing from a traveler. With little left to do in Tamrivena, you decided to leave the city and head further south.

Along the way, you met with some interesting folk - namely Captain Daladmin Quin - who warned you about traveling in the moors, that many people went missing there each year. You could tell that the old veteran wasn't a stranger to myths and legends, but something about his experience and sincerity kept you on guard nonetheless.

His advice proved valuable, too. It didn't take you more than a day in the moors before a pair of wolves, each with an unnatural look in its eye, set upon you. Never before had you, in all your life, battled as hard as you did that morning. Since, you've been on guard.

That was two days ago. From what you can tell, you're not far from Ravengro. A day or more on the road, traveling light and fast, should do it...

Cheliax

PART 2: The Recap.

For New Players:
None of you are required to read through this thread unless you absolutely feel compelled to do so. In fact, I think your interaction with the other PCs (and future NPCs) would be your best source of information. So, jump in, the water is just fine (and sometimes filled with paranoid sharks ...looks at Rendel. Hums the theme song to Jaws.)

Collectively, you've only been staying in town for a few days and you've already found it to be a strange, almost haunted place. The night of Professor Lorrimor's funeral was dark, rainy, and dangerous. You encountered simple, but very paranoid locals that all but hijacked the good professor's burial service. Some meaningful diplomacy (and a little intimidation) settled that.

Back at the Lorrimor Estate, you received by Kendra Lorrimor and learned more about her late father, including some of the work he did. He left you a number of items in his Will, namely a key that opened a chest in the basement.

Later that evening, three panicked creatures - things that looked like putrid, enlarged mosquitos - broke an upstairs window and wreaked havoc in a spare room. You put them down quickly.

After a stormy night, you enjoyed some tea with your breakfast while Kendra and Tharnik sought out a handyman to fix the upstairs window.

As they returned, alarm bells began to sound and out of nowhere, a whole pack of wolves attacked! You managed to save Kendra and Tharnik, but almost lost the latter to a very vicious bite.

Afterwards, you unlocked the downstairs chest, read through some of the notes, and started to look through most (but not all) of the books therein. Only one book was locked, with no key anywhere in the chest to be found. It had a strange eye on it. You also found a few potions you later identified.

You spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the town, meeting people, and helping who you could. You closed the evening at the Outward Inn, listening to rumors, tales, and one of the most haunting cellists you've ever heard.


Male Human Inquisitor 2

GM:
When the music's died down and the place returns to normal Rendel slides his seat out adn excuses himself from the table leaving his ale unattended.

He then goes about the tavern politely asking people if they had seen his father. He'll give a description (large, red haired, always smiling, armored, etc.) adn when he was last seen. Additionally he'll poke around at strange happenings around the town to see if anythign weird was going on even before their arrival and get a general consensus as to the cause.

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25 Diplomacy. Gonna touch of glory this one here.


On the road again...:

Dortlin trudged on, hoping to put as many miles behind him as he could during the daylight hours. Traveling alone was always dangerous, but after that run in with the wolves he was feeling especially wary, even now two days later. Something about those creatures had struck him as wrong, like they were an omen of bad things to come. With that troubling thought his mind turned toward the debt he owed Lorrimor. Dortlin silently cursed himself for not having found the man sooner, repaying him properly while he was still among the living. Now... Now he wasn't sure what he was going to do, he just knew he had to go, had to do something. Dortlin figured he'd have a better idea of what to do once he got to Ravengro. Squinting toward the horizon he scanned it for any sign that he was drawing near his destination, then with a quick glance around for any sign of trouble he quickened his pace.

I already read it before I applied, I wanted to make sure the style of the game suited me.

On an unrelated note, if I perform an action that you think requires a roll and I've not thought to include one, please feel free to roll it in my stead, especially if it will move things along faster. Any rolls you want really, if you think it will help make things go smoother.


stats:
Hp 36/36 AC&ffac 15, +2 shield +2 cbt ex. Tou ac 10+2 cbt ex. 17cmd F+7 R+4 W+6
Human. Mixed heritage. Mutt from a port city. Warrior of the Holy Light 3AD
Quote:
Tharnik

"I don't know what you guys will be doing, but I'm staying put. I've decided Kendra needs a strong arm at her defense, and I'm going to be that orc. It's the least I could do for her father. So, you'll have to move about the town without me."

Creel replies. "Thank you Tharnik. Knowing Madame Lorrimor has such a defender takes a great weight off my mind. Madame Lorrimor you have a made a wise choice in guardians. Though I have only known him a short time, in that time he has proven himself a good man."

In orc:
"I honor you elder brother/boss. Your work is great/large/heavy yet you are greater/more powerful. Know that if you fall/die I will take up your burden/sword."


Male Human Alchemist 2

Washing his hands at the crude tin wash basin in the barn, Heinrich sneered at the rooster. Yes, I believe we all heard you the first time you crowed it was morning, no need to remind us again...

Completing his shave, he adjusted his small mirror positioned on a ledge, and inspected his arm. As always, the stitches were immaculate, even at the odd angle he was forced to make them with just one hand.

Donning his shirt, he methodically packed his items, rolling up a cloth kit with a maddening variety of herbs and small bags tacked to one side. He completed this morning ritual by fastening several small steel vials to his belt.

With a crunch, Heinrich stepped out into the brisk morning onto a narrow gravel path, avoiding the mud and puddles that formed yesterday.

Now to pay Lorrimor's daughter a visit, and see what the simple folk of this town have overlooked...

For TRGM:

Not sure if you saw I had an entry on my profile page putting me at the inn last night (I figured they might be staying there). I'll scrap that section.

Which reminds me, were the 3 goblins carrying anything? Coin? Or a dagger perhaps? Anything besides broken dogslicers?

Cheliax

Creel wrote:
Creel replies. "Thank you Tharnik. Knowing Madame Lorrimor has such a defender takes a great weight off my mind. Madame Lorrimor you have a made a wise choice in guardians. Though I have only known him a short time, in that time he has proven himself a good man."

Tharnik replies in Orc:
"Thank you. Should I fall, you now have my blood-oath. May you find honor and victory."

Male Varisian (Ustalavic) Archivist 5; hp 33/33; AC 16; TAC 12; FF 14; F +2; R +6; W +3; Perc +5; Init +2

Vaghn watches Kendra go with the half-orc with a curious look on his face, then turns to the others. "Ah, hmm, Herren Smith, Creel, would you be so good as to bring the trunk upstairs? It occurred to me that, considering the level of secrecy the Professor had to go to, perhaps we should check the chest for anything hidden. False bottoms, secret latches, and the like. Lady Peshtussle, might I trouble you to put on a pot of tea? I, for one, feel in need of something to clear my head. And now if you will excuse me a moment, there is a question I must ask Kendra before she retires..." He hurries to catch up with the retreating hostess.

Cheliax

For Rendel:

Although no one recognizes your father by your description, you do learn a few interesting tidbits about the town. Particularly that it's always been a little 'off,' especially after they decided to build a prison here. You learn that:

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.

For Vaghn:
You reach the top of the stairs just as Kenda is about to shut her door, Tharnik sitting in a velvet backed chair just outside of her room. He gives you a look that pleads her peace and quiet, but she stops nonetheless. She offers you a weak, tired smile and asks, "Yes? Is there something I can help you with?"


Male Varisian (Ustalavic) Archivist 5; hp 33/33; AC 16; TAC 12; FF 14; F +2; R +6; W +3; Perc +5; Init +2

Vaghn gapes at her for a moment, momentarily at a loss for words. "Er, um, yes. I... um, I would not ask, you see, but, well, it may be relevant to the investigation... er, I could always ask tomorrow I suppose... no, probably best to do it now." He looks into her eyes, his own brimming with a strange mix of emotions. "Kendra, I must ask how your father died. Was there any, um, extreme damage to his body? I pray you forgive my having to ask; the very last thing I want to do is cause you any more pain."

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