As we walk back towards the temple.
"To be fair the professor never said the tomb was empty, just forgotten."
"I wonder how the Professor passed the mists? Or did he somehow leave it as a protector of the box."
To Sir Rendel.
"That box bears a familiar sign."
"Swirling lights that inspired unnatural fear?" Heinrich muses out loud.
"I must profess I'm not certain what they were, but we don't appear to have sustained any injuries to ourselves beyond our bruised egos."
And a splitting headache... where did der Grafft wander off to?
Dortlin frowned as he walked, muttering to himself, "Somethin' still don't seem right, box just sittin' out like that, open."
He glanced over toward the acolytes, "I reckon the church'll be wantin' to do somethin' about that tomb?"
|
Listening to the conversation, the two acolytes simply nod at Dortlin and continue onward toward the church.
It doesn't take long to reach the church, although by the time you do, you realize your party is pretty tired. The tea and comfortable seats the staff offer you upon your return are, to say the least, a welcome sight.
Father Grimburrow joins you shortly after you return. He says, "Dhari and Ashwynn inform me that the crypt you entered wasn't empty, that some strange lights - likely lingering, haunted spirits - remained behind in the crypt. Dhari and Ashywnn said they tried to battle them but that you choose to retreat. This was probably wise. Do you have anything to add to the story? If not, I think it might be best to return in the morrow and cleanse the space. What do you say to that?"
Vaghn sheepishly enters the room and stands at the back. It is obvious he is ashamed at his repeated inability to overcome the magical fear engendered by the guardian spirits.
Dortlin screwed up his face in thought for a few moments as he tried to recollect all that had happened in the crypt. "Don't know if it means anythin' in particular, but them lights, they was tryin' to look like us, takin' on our shapes and what not. Everthin' just seemed to go through 'em, like they's mist or somethin'. Had some sort of unnatural feel to 'em, chilled you more than just lookin' on 'em ought to. Anyway. Don't think we had a chance to scrutinize things properly, so spirits or no, I think we ought to go back. Don't suppose you got any way we can hurt them things."
"Positive energy directed by a priest can harm them." Rendel says as he sets the box he had been holding so protectively until now on the table. "Magic has some effect but it must be true magic not a conjuration of an effect. Gratned all this depends on what it was as much as anything. I'm afraid none of us are capable are producing such bursts. Iomedae grants me strength to fight and to pursue but not that. I took the time to identify some of this while we were there. Now without all of us being driven mad by mists and hate we can deal with this properly." There's the slightest hint of regret in Rendel's voice as he discusses there time in the tomb. As he starts to unpack the box he notes what he knows of the items setting those that have been identified aside and laying out the unknown objects on the table for all to see.
Identified:
4 sunrods
A dozen silver tipped arrows
5 Cure Light wounds potions
2 scrolls of Hide from Undead
Unidentified:
10 Glowy arrows
5 Wispy arrows
2 vials of a golden fluid
2 BLACK arrows
2 other scrolls
a thin darkwood case decorated with an image of a scarab with a single eye glaring from its back.
vials of water bearing Sarenraes holy mark.
Creel speaks his helmet is off and his hair disheveled.
"There was nothing to strike. Even with a mist you can hear the sound of the blade change but there was nothing. Whatever it is it makes thinking difficult. Perhaps the air is bad in there but I have had a severe headache ever since that, whatever it was, screamed.
I can't say why I think this but it seemed trapped and very angry."
Creel slumps heavily in his seat and downs a full cup of tea in one drink. He winces at the heat, takes a deep breath, sits up more fully and begins to control and slow his breathing. A simple excersize to manage pain.
Madeline remains silent on the effect of the room upon her person, though the slight blush to her cheeks perhaps betrays some hint of inner turmoil.
"That box?" She says quietly, "Doesn't one of the books we have in our keeping bear a similar design?"
His curiousity obviously getting the better of him, Vaghn inches forward.
"The symbol of the Order!" he breathes in surprise. "Obviously I must learn more about them; they seem more entangled in all of this than I first thought."
He casts a quick spell.
|
|
The 10 glowing arrows are +1 arrows.
The 5 wispy arrows are +1 ghost touch arrows.
You do not know what the two vials of golden, glowing liquid is.
You do not know what the two black arrows are.
You correctly identify one of the scrolls as detect undead.
As you study the empty box, please give me a Perception check.
Father Grimburrow considers your comments, narrowing his eyes and looking down his nose at his folded hands. He stays that way for a few moments, his breathing light and steady, and then glances over at Vaghn (as he casts his spell). He smiles slightly with that, then steps back, letting Vaghn study the box.
When it appears Vaghn is done muttering to himself (and jotting down abbreviations on a scrap of paper), he addresses your group.
"So, what do you think of this collection. Obviously, from the markings, only some of it was acquired through this church. It looks rather much like some undead hunters kit, perhaps something the late professor put together to aid in his research? Or perhaps the professor was a skilled diviner?"
Madeline arches an eyebrow at the good Priest's words,
"Perhaps the good Professor was just in the mind of 'Being prepared'?" She suggests in reply.
"Useful items. Perhaps I should pick up a bow at some point." At Father Grimburrow's words his brow furrows in thought. "All of the above, most likely. Professor Lorrimer was always one for careful preparation and research, and could have easily put together such a kit. I believe he also had some skill in divination, as does Kendra. The question remains to be begged: if this was simply a box of the Professor's belongings, was there something else in that crypt that we missed? Something those spirits were guarding? And what is the connection of the Order of the Palatine Eye to all of this? There is just so much more research that needs to be done!"
Heinrich clears his throat.
"What I find odd is that if the professor was a man who wished to be prepared... odd that he would leave his preparations in a false tomb, rather than closer at hand in his home, or rather... have taken them with him to Harrowstone?"
"Like I said, somethin' weren't right. And I ain't talkin' about them spirits." Dortlin gave a little shudder at the last.
"Anyway. Don't know what I can do to help, but you just tell me and I'll do it."
|
|
Father Grimburrow says, "Perhaps Professor Lorrimer simply wasn't prepared on the particular day of his accident? We still don't know that he was, as you suggested, the victim of foul play. All we know is that a large block crushed his skull and that he was researching a cult none of us even have proof exists here in Ravengro."
Father Grimburrow shrugs. Then, he continues. "Of course, he may have been onto something, as well. Where do you plan to go next?"
"I agree we do not have proof it exists in Ravengro." Rendel says. "We do however have proof that the professor was doing something important and moreover tied to the strange happenings we have been experiencing. I have a feeling that whatever he took from the box would have been found on his person when he was killed since his intent was to use it at the prison where he died. Tell me. What all was found upon him when his body was discovered?"
"He had nothing of note on his person when he was brought to us." Father Grimburrow shrugs his shoulders.
"Nothing? No note books? Tools? Weapons? It would be very unlike the man to head into a dangerous ruin without even the most basics of his profession. It's not a good question anyway I suppose. If he had something of note and he was murdered as we suspect it bears reasoning they would remove any incriminating evidence from his person anyway. Perhaps it will be something we will come across another time. It seems our course takes us to harrowstone no matter how ill prepared we may feel."
Madeline nods in agreement with Rendel's words and sentiments.
Dortlin nodded. "If he were done in for pokin' 'round Harrowstone and we do them same, then even if we don't find nothin'...maybe someone'll tip their hand."
"Anyway. We can have a look see this afternoon, while the Father here figures out just how we can help him tomorrow."
|
|
Father Grimburrow nods to your party in agreement.
Then, he says, "The day grows long. Whatever you found in the Restlands, I suspect, is not going to go far. To be safe, I'm going to set a watch outside of the tomb. I'll assign some of my senior acolytes."
You see Father Grimburrow nod to another initiate, who immediately departs. Then, in a hushed voice, he continues.
"I can't say whether or not Professor Lorrimer had anything on him because I didn't discover the body. The sheriff did. He's a good man, though, and I'm sure he would have shared anything with me he found. He's a pretty loyal, helpful individual. I suspect that if he was murdered, anything incriminating would have been taken. That only makes sense. Of course, as far as I know, Kendra never reported any of his personal effects missing, either. So, if he did have something on him, she either didn't know about it, or isn't sharing it with us."
Father Grimburrow sighs.
"This is all very tiring. I'm not accustomed to investigating murders, as the Lady of Graves takes each in her own way. I'll do what I can to help each of you, but I can't promise I'll be available for every step of your journey. I still have a flock I must attend to. I do hope you understand."
With that, Father Grimburrow escorts your party outside, where much to your surprise, the sun is already beginning to set. It hasn't reached the horizon yet, but from its placement (and the rumbling in your stomachs), you'd guess it is easily late afternoon. As you gaze about the town, you can see plumes of smoke on the horizon, their rustic scent doubtlessly the result of stews being heated for the evening meal. Even as this brings a sense of peaceful simplicity to the town, you cannot but help wonder exactly what - and for what reason - has set its malicious eyes upon Ravengro.
Madeline turns and curtsies to the good Preacher, with her manservant offering a polite bow. To her companions she says,
"Well....dinner perhaps?'
"Hmm? What? Oh yes, whatever everyone wants to do. I wish I could gain access to the library at night. So much more we need to know... Actually, I think I need a bit of a walk. Clear my head. I'll meet you all at the estate a little later."
Vaghn nods distractedly and walks off, muttering to himself. He seems to be heading toward the river.
"I've no preference." Rendel says.
Creel rubs his chin as he considers.
"It would be good if at least some of us put in an appearence at the inn. On the otherhand there may be answers in the professors library that we have missed. How about I pick up Mr. der Graft and head to the Inn while the rest of you head back to check on Mademoiselle Lorrimer?'
Heinrich's eyes narrow as he watches Creel rub his own chin.
Those three hairs he missed are likely bothering him... Oh the importance of a precise daily shave...
"Yes, I am agreeable to a return to the professor's house."
And the suggestion of cataloging everything held within his library...
Heinrich's eyes narrow as he watches Creel rub his own chin.
Those three hairs he missed are likely bothering him... Oh the importance of a precise daily shave...
Dortlin thought back to standing awkwardly in the Lorrimor place that morning and frowned. He wasn't sure if it was all the niceties and nicknacks or that girl of Lorrimor's that made him feel that way. "I ain't much for readin' and I don't want to impose more than I have to on that girl of Lorrimor's. Why don't I come on with you to the inn."
Heinrich's eyes narrow as he watches Creel rub his own chin.
Those three hairs he missed are likely bothering him... Oh the importance of a precise daily shave...
"Well come on friend Dortlin I'll buy the first round!"
With that Creel and company head for the Inn and all the good things it contains.
|
|
Several new flowers have been planted in the front yard, as well as a few trees (all, conveniently enough, in the very same locations your party buried the wolves).
As you walk closer to the house, you can see Tharnik sitting on the front porch, sipping from a steaming cup made of fine china. It's an odd sight, the bulky half-orc holding the cup with a precise care you'd expect from someone more refined. As you approach, he nods and smiles, indicating the door is unlocked.
"The lady Lorrimor is inside, preparing dinner. How was your day?"
The inn is still relatively quiet, but you can hear the slight echo of laughter coming from inside.
As you open the door, you can see that two of the bar maids are playing with dish rags, performing some elaborate dance, snapping them like whips at one another as the dance in a circle. When they notice you, the stop and turn, each bowing slightly and then straightening up. One of the girls, obviously the older of the two, walks up and asks, "And what can I be getting you fine folk this good eve?"
Creel smiles. "Well if you have a couple of extra dish rags....."
"We are just after some ale and a bowl of what ever smells so delightful."
Dortlin nodded in agreement with Creel. "Same."
Following the bar maid he looked around at the inn, where he had been just the previous night, noting whoever else might be there. Settling down at the table he grunted a thank you.
"I tell you it's been a day, that ale's lookin' pretty good now," he ground out in that rough monotone of his as they waited for their meal.
|
|
The mead is cold, smooth, and sweet. The beer and ale are cold and rich, as well. The stew, alongside a side of potatoe-roasted quail, is delicious.
Overall, the evening is quiet.
Creel enjoys the food and the company. Chatting about life outside Ravengo and looking for some advice on fishing the local rivers.
|
|
He says, "Mister, if you're looking for fishing, you need to head to the north side of the Lake. But mind your step, there's some nasty traps up that way, mostly from trappers and hunters."
Dortlin sat back, relishing his beer, and tried to think back to any rumors he'd heard about Ravengro when he'd gone through areas around the town in previous times.
When the talking turned to fishing he set into telling a story about the biggest fish he'd ever caught.
As the young fellow told them about the fishing on the north side of the lake and the traps there, something that was said piqued his interest. "Mostly?" By way of punctuation Dortlin drained his beer and waved for another.
|
|
When Dortlin mentions the word "Mostly," the young man wipes his hands on his shirt and then elaborates.
"Well, there are some goblins and the like in the area, as well. I think some of them traps ain't men for wolves as much as they meant for men. Luckily, we're a lot brighter than they are."
Sense Motive
|
|
Standing nearly 25-foot-tall, moss-covered stone statue overlooks the river. The statue depicts a proud, muscular human man dressed in leathers and wielding a truncheon. A total of 25 names are chiseled into the statue’s stone base.
A sense of foreboding fills you.
|
|
** spoiler omitted **
Within the quiet of the Lorrimor estate, Heinrich will examine whatever he is allowed of the professor's library or laboratory for clues to the professor's final research or expeditions.
"HA" Creel laughs. "I'm afraid you are about as far up the wrong tree as you can be my friend. First Messieur Lorrimer was no more a necromancer that Father Grimborrow and kind Sir Rendal here is dedicated to the inheritor. Now Sir Rendal is not the kind of person to associate with workers of dark magick and he and the late professor had worked together in the past. So don't worry. Neither myself, Sir Rendal, the late professor, nor anyone staying at the Lorrimer estate are or ever were necromancers. So put that thought out of your mind and we can start on finding out what is really causing trouble."