When you are ready:
Kendra leads the group to the Restlands (the local graveyard near town) passing by the Laughing Demon (the largest tavern in town) to collect the reminder of the participants.
They are quickly introduced as Councilmen Hearthmount and Muricar, Zokar Elkarid and his son Pervin, Jominda Fllenbreidge, and Countess Adrissant and son Earl Adivion Adrissant.
The group stops before an arched iron gateway leading into the graveyard. A black cart holds a dark wooden casket.
The mortician explains that the Father and the gravediggers are awaiting their arrival. All is ready, all that remains is the final walk with a heavy burden.
I didn't know Professor Lorrimor knew aristocracy?
Visually inspecting the casket, Ysmerelda takes her place on one side. Carefully limbering-up properly before grasping hold of her handle, she nods to the others.
Deivon nods to all assembled. Well, Professor, at least you are being sent off properly and not in some dank dungeon... He sighs deeply, offering one small prayer to Pharasma before taking his place at the side of the casket.
Sandalero quietly takes a place in the procession behind the casket where he can watch while avoiding most notice.
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Sirsi walks quietly, she's not used to dealing with death, or at least not the post-death rituals. It is somewhat... sobering.
Sera goes to the casket, briefly considering joining the pallbearers, but then decide to join the procession behind the casket. Tears are starting to well up in her eyes.
The undertaker asks if you are right or left handed and quickly measures you all at the shoulder with a well worn tape measure.
He quickly adjusts the handles for each of your heights, allowing for the many variances between you.
Zokar Elkarid, his son Pervin, and Earl Adivion Adrissant step up to serve as the remaining three pallbearers.
And when all is ready, you may proceed.
Hotrek takes his place and shows no sign of strain as the he lifts the casket to his broad shoulders.
A show of silence for a friend.
Deivon takes his handle, lifting it with a small strain, but wanting to show the proper respect. As such, he takes one of the handles near the feet.
The coffin will slow everyone but our dwarf down to 20' of movement due to weight and size, but should not be a big problem. The undertaker takes great pride in stating it is made with darkwood, per Petros instructions.
Kendra leads the way through the Restlands, telling you the names of the paths as you go. First, the path know as The Ancestor's Walk before turning north on The Dreamwake. It intersects with The Eversleep next to a large Crypt.
Perception DC 15
So absorbed by her thoughts, Seraphine doesn't notice anything.
"Hold!" The normally quiet dwarf's voice changes in timbre. His heavy baritone voice suddenly becomes lower, deeper and more dangerous as his eyes narrow.
"Do you all hear those noises from that Crypt there? I say put down our friend here carefully and deal with what troubles comes first." He glares intently against the crypt.
Kendra
Zokar Elkarid
Pervin
Earl Adivion Adrissant
The Rest
Wrapped in their sorrow none but the Earl seem to hear anything either.
Adivion Are we expecting late comers, Kendra?
Adivion @ Hotrek:Trouble? What belated, worthless sot of a fool would dare cause trouble at a funeral procession? And why? The man has earned his quiet rest!
Sirsi notices nothing, but as Hotrek speaks she peers over towards the crypt.
"I'll go take a look if you want, I'm sure it's nothing?"
"Adivion perhaps it's my aged ears or maybe my knees but could we set this down first? It maybe nothing or it maybe something. Sirsi wait a while. My old legs can't always keep up with you younglings." Hotrek points out fearing what could be behind that crypt.
"They sounded angry. Very angry and they're behind a Crypt. Not something I want to take chances on." The old dwarf continues while gesturing for everyone else to put the casket down.
Once down, Hotrek unlimbers his axe and making sure that everyone else is safety away examines the crypt.
Adivion @ Hotrek: As you will. Please add an Earl to my name when you speak it. It upsets mother when people do not use my title.
Grins slightly at Hotrek and winks.
Sets casket down if the rest do as well.
Hotrek's eyes widen as he had indeed forgotten though he catches that wink.
"Forgive my manners, Your grace. It's being long since I have had the privilege of meeting a noble. My manners are thus long in stiring. Allow me to make reparation by guarding your esteemed selves from any potential danger which I suspect the crypt to be holding." A rather Contrite Hotrek returns that wink.
Countess Adrissant Better.
At Hotrek's warning, Ysmerelda stops with the other Pallbearers, perking her ears attentively.
I don't hear anything. Still, better to be certain. I've heard the aristocracy can be prickly, hadn't gotten to part of my training yet...
"Your Grace, Sir," She interjects, nodding to the Countess & her son, "It would be but a moment for one of us to quietly round the structure & be certain no ruffians are about. As we are already at a point to do so, it seems foolish not to pre-empt such a possibility."
Unless either of them makes an objection, Ysmerelda will cautiously make her way around the Crypt to investigate the noises Hotrek claims to have heard.
Sirsi will follow close behind Ysmerelda.
Hearing the noise, Deivon follows suit in lowering the casket to the ground. "What in the holy name of Pharasma..."
Deivon turns and listens to his fellows, nodding at Ysmerelda's suggestion. "Best find out soon so we may continue this most sacred of ceremonies."
Stealth if you are so doing, DC .
Rounding the corner it is easy to see the large group of men standing there. There look to be about 20-25 of them, dressed in farm clothing.
Perception DC 10
Perception DC 15
For Sirsi if you beat Perception 10
Seraphine follows behind. She takes her gloves off and puts them in her pocket.
She casts a spell, causing a red translucent barrier to form around her.
Lost in this thoughts, Sandalero never heard what Hotrek did, but follows his lead when the procession is halted.
Sandalero makes no attempt to be stealthy as the group heads off, both because he wants to confront any trouble head-on and because he has little expectation of sneaking up on anyone while in proximity to the rest of the group.
Does anyone know who these people are, or why they are drunkenly discussing whether or not they should burn the Professor's corpse?
The NPCs all wait by the coffin unless asked to move ahead, the Earl unsheathes his longsword and moves in front of the group.
He mumbles a few words of power and his blade is wrapped in sparkling blue lightning.
The group of men appear locked in their argument, they do not appear to notice anyone.
Sirsi walks around the crypt into view.
"Is this a private argument or can anyone throw in, because it's starting to sound like you're disrespecting a friend of mine."
Sirsi keeps her tone friendly, but is trying to provoke a reaction.
The group starts in surprise, except for Gibs, who just raises an eyebrow.
The man closest to you: Who be your friend there pretty lady? If it where that demon worshiping necromancer, he aien't gonna go in tha ground here! No ma'am. Not next to me mum 'n dad, nor my gran pappy and mama. Take 'um down river ta the old yard! Chain his box up good so 'e don't come out the ground!
Another further back: NO!!!That man en his family be cursed!! Burn the body burn the curse!! He can'd come back if 'es burn'ed up good!! Bad blood in da town wit him, burn it out, make it pure 'gain!! Fist Gibs boy hitched to that mare an 'es dead now! Now the paw done die! Evil times it is, burn it out!! Make it right 'ere 'gain!
Deivon steps forward, raising his silver holy symbol of Pharasma.
"Be it so known, that any person who dares disrepects this man's final rights, or bring shame to this sacred ceremony will be judged not just by me, but by the Mother of Souls, Our Lady of Judgement, Pharasma. Now part and let the dead be laid to rest or prepared to be Judged early!"
Deivon steps forward, raising his silver holy symbol of Pharasma.
"Be it so known, that any person who dares disrepects this man's final rights, or bring shame to this sacred ceremony will be judged not just by me, but by the Mother of Souls, Our Lady of Judgement, Pharasma. Now part and let the dead be laid to rest or prepared to be Judged early!"
[dice=Intimidate]1d20 + 6
"Anyone who dares try to interrupt this procession will have to deal with us!"
To make her point, she allows fire appear in her hands, readying to throw fire bolts if they attack.
I'm all for preventing the dead from rising. But desecrating corpses and disrepecting bereaved families is no way to do it. Stand aside and keep quiet or be moved aside and made quiet.
"I heartily encourage all of you to desist. Of course you may decline. Have you seen His grace, Earl Adrissant's weapon? It flickers with the light of justice and I'm guessing none of you wants to feel that." Hotrek comes up with his axe in hand and shield up.
Deivon's words seem somehow appropriate.
"Please let us lay this man to rest, if you have concerns, we can discuss it after. We have some talent between us at solving the problems of mankind in a world where darkness holds sway."
Hotrek raises an eyebrow at that, moving closer to Sirsi.
"We do?" he whispers.
Eyes flashing between her companions & these local...
individuals, Ysmerelda sighs in annoyance.
As if our violence is any appropriate to the occasion.
"Good sirs," She begins, addressing the mob assembled before them. "While I understand the strange & unusual may seem unnerving & unseemly, do you consider that your own resident priest would allow such an event if he believed the departed Professor to be such a threat?"
Hotrek nods his head.
"She Speaks sense."
The crowd looks at the gathering of strange people wielding axe, fire and speech.
After a few moments of thought, they turn and go. Heading back to Ravensgro, muttering sullenly as they go and passing a jug between them.
The older, tall man stands his ground as the others walk past him. Once they are a little further down the path, he turns to you and smiles. Nodding his head, he turns to follow the group.
"Well, that's done! The professor's casket won't carry itself." Ysmerelda exclaims as she turns back to the item in question.
Sirsi frowns, there's something on here... probably need to stick around a few weeks after the funeral, make sure nothing kicks off.