"Learn to match your companion's pace and you are one step closer to understanding your companion's mind." Ysmerelda grins genially up at the Father. "That is what master Albus would say at least. Still not quite certain what he meant by it..." She trails off.
As the two walk back to the Temple, "How well did you know Professor Lorrimor?"
Father Reasonable well, I believe.
He was often away, doing research he always said.
I wasn't born last night, you know.
One does not gain scars from scrolls and books.
He alone, possibly, knew more of the unquiet dead than myself.
He would consult with me on occasion, on the undead, occult and otherworldly.
I'm going to miss him, there are no others of his intellect and knowledge in town now.
Meanwhile back at the house......
As Hotrek after finding a small supply of usable items begins to reinforce the door frame, he attempts to strike up a conversation with Gibbs.
"I see that you knnow your way around yon blade. Care to share yer tales?"
Gibbs Not much about it, 20 years on Last Wall as an enlisted officer for the scouts.
Killed lots of orcs, some undead and a couple of demons here and there.
My last command was with a new officer, young lass, not unlike your tiny friend.
She followed our orders and took us a couple days out.
Our scouts reported back of a large band of orcs, so we fell back to a ruined tower.
Three days later it was all over and some of us returned to report and I turned in my commission and came home to have a family.
Lots of us got some awards and rank, some even got it while they were alive.
I had enough of it.
The stairs always seemed longer after a day like this. As she made her way up to her rooms in the Van der Geist manor, Rhia looked forward to a long soak in a hot bath, a much deserved reward for the hard work of the last two weeks.
Already her brother Garrick, a Paladin of Pharasma, had made his way to the temple, before heading home to reunite with his new wife. The graveyard of the village they'd ridden to aid had finally been put to rest after a hard fought battle, and Rhia longed to have the finger-bone scratches on her leg soothed by the hot water and bath salts.
A wall sconce snuffed out behind her, the work of one of the rebellious ghosts that traveled with her, a sign of her exhaustion, they were always harder to restrain when she was tired.
Despite the fact that it was well past midnight, she was glad to see a warm fire in her anteroom, a welcome home by Milen, the family's head maid. As she dropped her gear just in the door, and made her way to the bath she could see the steam rising, beckoning, an irresistible call.
Without hesitation she began to disrobe, the warm air comforting, a hint of what lay in store in the water almost too hot to bear, just the way she liked it. As the last of her garments hit the floor she noticed a letter, on the dresser. As she considered letting it wait until morning, the envelope floated up off of the dresser, hovering across the room to her hand.
"Fine, I'll read it now." she said in mock exasperation.
She broke the seal, unfolding the parchment to find an official looking script, as she read, the world seemed to go cold.
The Professor was dead.
The tears came freely, the loss of a good friend striking deep until the sobs wracked her body as she knelt on the lush rug, clutching the letter to her chest. Unaware of the passage of time, she slowly rose, gently placing the letter back on her dresser and entered the bathing chamber, slowly lowering herself into the warm water. Though not quite as hot as it would have been, the water soothed her soul as much as her aching body if not more. She would sit here for a while, allowing her mind and body to relax, and then she would sleep. The funeral had already passed but she needed to see Kendra, tomorrow she would head to Ravengro.
Bad new i take it my love?"
He wife said almost a whisper as she moved closer to him resting her hand on his shoulders as he nodded for a moment. She could hear their little angel singing to herself in her little bedroom and the stiring of their second child inside her. She swallowed and waited for him to speak.
The professor... he died."
He said and froze for a moment before bending just a bit to hug him close. She knew how much he idolized the man, he had spoken of him and the friendship of the professor to his mother often, especially when it neared the annual day of her birth.
"I'll have missed the funeral no doubt but I have to...I "
He began his voice trailing off as his wife put a blunt taloned finger on his lips. She had take to ... filing them down in a slight attempt to show some sort of desire to fit in, even if the few occasions she went into town most avoided her.
They had at least stopped the outright threats and such. Thanks to her husbands efforts with the ill in town. Even now they made an okay living selling herbs, poultices and the like to the townsfolk.
"Go ... play with your daughter I will gather your things and you can catch a baat perhaps down to Chastel. We will be here waiting your return lover.
He nodded softly and kissed his love before rising to do just as she suggested. He moved to his daughters room her happy squeel and giggles as he lifted her up and tickled echoed through the household...
a week or so later
He was tired and dirty, but finally he was here. The town was familiar to him, then again the same could be said of most places in Ustalav. The first person he spoke to, about the proffessor's home almost snarled at him and gave him an evil look before they silently nodded torwards it, as did the next villager.
Finally he found himself infront of the late proffesor's home a tight feeling in his chest and throat. There was a dwarf and a man there, working on the doorframe. He cleared his throat and swallowed.
Greetings, My name is Celen and my mother was a close friend of the proffesor's and I recieved word of his passing and came to pay my respects to his family.
He began placing a hand over his heart and bowing slightly at the waist. In the light it was obvious he was... touched with the blood of something otherworldly. Even slightly dirty his eyes sparkled and his silver hair pratically gleamed.
The older man stops in his work, turning to face you, he rises to his full height, easily half a head taller than most men.
He looks you over from head to toe, slowly, fingers tapping his long sword and short sword at his waist, absentmindedly.
Old human Names Gibbs, this is Hotrek.
You're a bit late, for the funeral son.
Kendra's inside, she'd be glad of your presence, you should introduce yourself, unless she already knows you from before.
Got a couple of folks staying for a bit, but I helped build this house with Petroes, it's got room for more friends.
Rhia looks out of the carriage window, the gloomy sky reflecting her mood. Though she knew that the Professor would be with the Lady of the Graves now, and that she should celebrate his life, the fact was that she would sorely miss the old man and their late night conversations over mulled wine.
It was he who had helped her come to understand her unique gift and truly embrace the connection she had with Pharasma's realm.
As the carriage rumbles to a stop she gathers herself, the door opened for her by the spirit of the ever chivalrous Guylain, her great uncle who often took on such roles.
I wonder if I'll get to see him like this, just once
The sky seems ready to weep as she exits the coach in front of the house, a vision of somber ethereal beauty, dressed in flowing black and silver for the occasion, the deeply cowled hood of her cloak plunging her beautiful face in shadow, a reflection of the deep emotions she was feeling.
As overcast as the day is, the very air seems to mourn the Professor's passing. Those she passes feel gooseflesh rise along their skin as the air chills slightly, faint mist coming from the mouths of by passers who step aside without truly realizing why.
The delicate, wraithlike figure seems to glide forward, her cloak moving against the wind almost as if under water as it wraps around her form.
Alongside her, almost unnoticeable, the dust kicks up as if stirred by another pair of feet to her left and a little behind her.
As she lifts her head, grey eyes, of an almost crystalline clarity gaze out of a face at once both youthful and ageless, filled with an awareness far beyond imagination.
Those eyes pass over the house she’d come to know so well before she knocks on the door with a sad sigh.
"Did he ever speak to you of fears..." Ysmerelda's voice trails off as she contemplates the possibility that she might be asking the Father to betray a confidence.
Looking up from his own work and adding his voice to Gibbs
"Aye, if ye be the Professor's friend then welcome. This house was built on solid ground and I assure you with room more than most beyond what ye see." lifting up a sweat covered brawny arm in greeting.
Father @ Ysmerelda: Not in so many words.
However, the line of some of his questions over the years...I am not as old and foolish as some may think.
I spent a very, very long time battling the undead.
My...craft, was dealing withe the "lesser" of them, skeletons, zombies, ghouls, ghasts and so on.
The things a common person could possible handle, if they could move past fear.
Education was my best weapon, Petroes, I believe he battled more intelligent foes.
One with plans and patience, I am sure.
He might have belonged to some kind of secret order, he never spoke of it, but, he let some hints slip.
He was never good at duplicity.
He knew something, something dark with a greater purpose, but what it was I could not tell you, my dear.
He pauses for a moment to look at the tiny warrior.
You have the same lake of duplicity, young lady.
Do you have questions that require a more direct answer, perhaps?
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Rhia looks out of the carriage window, the gloomy sky reflecting her mood. Though she knew that the Professor would be with the Lady of the Graves now, and that she should celebrate his life, the fact was that she would sorely miss the old man and their late night conversations over mulled wine.
It was he who had helped her come to understand her unique gift and truly embrace the connection she had with Pharasma's realm.
As the carriage rumbles to a stop she gathers herself, the door opened for her by the spirit of the ever chivalrous Guylain, her great uncle who often took on such roles.
I wonder if I'll get to see him like this, just once
The sky seems ready to weep as she exits the coach in front of the house, a vision of somber ethereal beauty, dressed in flowing black and silver for the occasion, the deeply cowled hood of her cloak plunging her beautiful face in shadow, a reflection of the deep emotions she was feeling.
As overcast as the day is, the very air seems to mourn the Professor's passing. Those she passes feel gooseflesh rise along their skin as the air chills slightly, faint mist coming from the mouths of by passers who step aside without truly realizing why.
The delicate, wraithlike figure seems to glide forward, her cloak moving against the wind almost as if under water as it wraps around her form.
Alongside her, almost unnoticeable, the dust kicks up as if stirred by another pair of feet to her left and a little behind her.
As she lifts her head, grey eyes, of an almost crystalline clarity gaze out of a face at once both youthful and ageless, filled with an awareness far beyond imagination.
Those eyes pass over the house she’d come to know so well before she knocks on the door with a sad sigh.
At the thought of you great uncle, recall another of your family, one who retired from the battle against the undead and changed his name.
It has been a while since you have spoken to him, he goes now by the name of Father Grimbrow here, to protect his family and the village.
It should be interesting to speak to your great, great uncle, should he still live. He must be in his late 90's by now.
Thank you Gibbs I will do so, I do not know if miss Kendra knows me, My mother however She might be familiar with.
He said offering the tall man bowing one more time before he made his way inside. He moved awkwardly until he found someone else.
Miss Kendra, I am Celise's son, She was a good friend to the professor, and I recall him well from my youth. I came to give my regards since... when i heard of his loss.
Pre-occupied, the oracle barely notices as the knocker raps seemingly of it's own accord while she stands at the doorstep.
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"I wouldn't know of any secret society of whom he was a member," Ysmerelda prevaricates, slightly, "but Professor Lorrimor seemed concerned that some cult he called 'the whispering way' might have unseemly interests in Harrowstone."
@Ysmerelda The Whispering Way...hmmmm, what would they want there?
I checked it out some time back, about twenty years ago, nothing really horrible that I could find.
But, in truth, I did not go thru it in depth.
Most of what I found would stay quiet, if left to sleep.
The Way, that is...disturbing, very, very disturbing.
Where they walk, death follows and the undead soon after...ALWAYS.
He ponders for a moment. Then smiles.
That's why he got into my stash and why he was poking around down there in the dark.
Kendra's Home:
Walking in you are greeted by Kendra and offered food and drink.
You are also introduced to:
Granny, a great-great aunt of Petroe's.
Gibbs, Kendra's father in law
Junior, Kendra's son and Petroe's grandson.
"Stash?" Ysmerelda queries, her brows arced as her expression shows a state of befuddlement, memories resurfacing of fellow students 'concealing' contraband from a disapproving proctor's prying eyes.
I am sorry for your loss Miss Kendra. The proffessor was a friend of my mothers, and something of an inspiration to me, I too lost her far earlier than i would have hoped, you have my condolences...
He offering that same polite little bow accpeting the offer of food and drink.
I couldnt help but notice the.... carpentry at your front door. is something amiss?
"The people yon here aren't too friendly and they seem to think the good professor some sort of evil magic user! I'm simply reinforcing the house to deter any idiot who'd try to create trouble for this family yer see me point?" Hotrek explains briefly though he holds back on what else he's being using to reinforce the house.
I see now how ill prepared I was when I last set out for the Harrowstone. Hotrek would chuckle at my seeming ineptitude. The ghosts, if indeed they were ghosts (for I did not find it prudent to investigate further) prevented me from transcribing the strange symbols I found etched along the foundation-hopefully on my next visit I will be more prepared. Thankfully, the necessary tools to defend against spirits are already here in Ravengro. I know the church of Pharasma stores them in a false crypt in the Restlands at the intersection between the Eversleep and The Black Path. I imagine the Father has augmented them somehow; he always seems ready for an apocalypse. I believe he would be happy to have them put to their intended use, so I will “borrow” some for my use.
Stash.
"That is a good thing," Rhia's quietlt as she is introduced to everyone, "Petros always did have a knack for assembling the right type of people at the right time."
As she moves across the room to embrace Kendra, a toy near Junior floats up and places itself in the toddler's lap, eliciting a giggle.
Kendra Some of our guests have gone, so we plenty of room here.
My father's will mentioned you all as well.
The others and I have perused his journal, it was marked as a important to read first.
What are your thoughts, do you know of anything he wrote about or alluded to?
He read the journal silently his beautiful pleasing features seeming to grow darker and more worried the more he read.
My... my mother she had more than a few run ins with this cabal of evil. We believe indeed the wizard whom she perished against might have been a member, my loved is not entirely sure. They are very secretive but... if they have something to do with the proffessor's death I can assure you that I will be here to aid and investigate as best as I am able. He was a good man.
He paused for a moment and set the journal aside.
The whispering way aligns themselves with evil intelligent undead, or are often undead monsters themselves. Have we...started to make inquiries with the local church about necessary precautions?
Father Yes, I hid some tools and weapons in one of the crypts.
Most temples to the Lady carry a number of things within, however, I felt it pertinent to place some in a hidden location.
Just in case, one never knows when something may happen.
If you need them, you may use them.
Mind the dust, I put them there many years ago.
Ah, here we are, home sweet home.
Thank you for walking an old man home.
Taking the time to quietly peruse the Journal, Rhia considers what she knows of the topics mentioned within.
Taking the time to quietly peruse the Journal, Rhia considers what she knows of the topics mentioned within.
[dice=Knowledge (religion) : Whispering Way]1d20+6
[dice=Knowledge (history): Harrowstone]1d20+5
Knowledge checks are under the Campaign section, check it out and if you surpass the DC, check out the spoiler-ed bits.
Looking up bemused at the latest arrival, Hotrek wipes off the sweat from his brow and suggests;
"Mayhaps we be talking inside the house and be discussing what be the plans we be making, yes?"
Rhia looks up as the Dwarf she'd seen outside enters with another woman with strange eyes. Petros was always good at gathering interesting people around him.
Going into er with breathing problems, may be A bit.before.posts
Looking up bemused at the latest arrival, Hotrek wipes off the sweat from his brow and suggests;
"Mayhaps we be talking inside the house and be discussing what be the plans we be making, yes?"
Unless Ysmerelda has more questions for the father, we will have everyone meet for dinner to discuses plans and meet and greet.
Kendra and Granny quickly sort out the chores, putting anyone who is willing to use in preparing the meal.
Junior follows everyone around helping as best he can with his tiny hands and insistently pestering the everyone with questions.
Gibbs helps Hotrek finish his preparations, and, unless questioned, makes his way to his home before dinner.
Thanking Gibbs for his valauable aid, Hotrek at least sees the man out and accompanies him someway out bidding the man farewell before he turns back to wash up.
After washing up and cleaning himself up, Hotrek joins the rest of the family, answering the little tyke's questions as much as he can his rich baritone sounding out from the burly dwarf's chest.
"Oh!" Ysmerelda remarks upon seeing these new faces, peering particularly intently at Arsalan. She continues to send furtive glances at the larger woman as the two of them aid in preparations for the meal.
"The good father was aware that Professor Lorrimor made use of the Pharasmin weapons cache. He might be willing to allow us access if we investigate today's events further." Turning to Kendra, "are you feeling more secure now? I realize it must have been quite a shock. Sorry I wasn't able to accompany you home, but I felt it needful to be certain they priesthood was informed as quickly as possible."
Realizing that she herself was beginning to sound a bit frantic, Ysmerelda closes her mouth with a somewhat abrupt inhalation.
Rhia quietly studies Kendra's other guests, feeling the tension within the room.
Hotrek looks up while trying to smooth a snarl in his beard.
"That cache could hold valuable information, it be best if we start investigating as soon as we can at first light tomorrow. What say you all?"
Indeed it might be wise to check on said cache. Being about in the dead of night wouldnt be wise, perhaps you could tell us what you all have surmised, being that you arrived her long before we did?
At Arselan's query, Ysmerelda colours slightly but does not respond, instead growing rather still.
With Hotrek & Celen's prompting she continues. "There seems to be evidence..." She pauses, looking to Kendra & 'Junior', "perhaps not here & now. I'm not certain of the appropriateness of the subject matter for the dinner table."
Turning to Hotrek, "I didn't mention before, but it truly was fine craftsmanship upon the door."
Kendra Granny, could you and Junior eat at the fireplace, please?
After they move out of ear shot.
It's alright, Hotrek accompanied me home. I have never been that close to a battle before, nor witnessed the undead.
Father may have been accustomed to such evil, but, I am not.
Now, what have you discovered?
Glancing between the three newcomers briefly, Ysmerelda nods acquiescence before clearing her throat. "In deference to the new arrivals, I suspect our friend, Professor Lorrimor did not die of mere mischance. Between the documents we," nodding to Hotrek & the others, "reviewed last night & two...
rather peculiar conversations I have had this morning & previously..." She pauses, glancing apologetically at Kendra before continuing, "I'm afraid I suspect he was murdered."
"At least two 'secret societies' have an interest in our friend & mentor, and his work."
"One, 'the Whispering Way' seems most likely responsible for his death as he was looking into their activities here," she thrusts her index finger downward, indicating perhaps the greater surroundings of Ravengro, "when he died. I don't know what the other calls itself, I don't even know that it is large enough to be considered a 'society', but Lord Adrissant as much as stated he & Professor had 'worked' together in the past."
"The good professor may have reason to believe that these cultist has had something going on in this town and mayhaps worries about the lassie hence his request for us to stay in this town fer a month." Hotrek adds on.
"Way I be seeing it, We be making friends around here first while we find out more on what exactly the good professor is on about eh?"