As the morning mist of Lake Lias slowly recedes, the modest town comes into view. Most of the villages you have passed in Canterwall seem almost carved from the surrounding mud, but there is something different about Ravengro. Something charming.
The squish of the soggy moor underfoot continues as you approach. The month of Rova has brought more rainfall than in years past, and the sound of damp earth has accompanied you for much of your journey. At last it ends, for you have reached your destination. Alas, you do not arrive in happiness, but instead to pay respects to your old friend, the late Petros Lorrimor.
Rows of quaint buildings sit aside your path, quiet and uniform, save for an impressive steeple rising from the Pharasmin temple across the creek. Few of the townsfolk are out of doors this morning. Those that are turn their backs as you pass, or shuffle on about their business. None meet your eyes. You continue south through the center of town. Hopefully, you are not too late for the funeral procession.
A murder of crows passes overhead, but strangely, they do not caw as such birds are known to do. You hear only the beating of their wings against the still morning air. Yet, hidden in the rhythm of their flight, the faintest hint of a whisper comes to your ears. Is something calling to you? Before you can be sure of the noise, it fades, and the black silhouettes of the crows become smaller, eventually fading into the distant fog.
Your attention turns to a small congregation of people, gathered at the edge of town. They stand somberly around a casket. Some of them hold their heads down, while others look off towards the horizon. As you come closer, you make out the lithe form of a woman in the embrace of a portly, well-dressed man. The others have noticed your approach, and nearly all of them take a step backwards. Some avert their gaze, while others stare openly. The heavyset man has seen you as well, and the warmth that was present in his jowled countenance moments ago has flushed away. The woman, who has been all but buried in his shoulder, turns.
Wiping her tear-stained cheeks, the woman scans you and those that stand beside you. A reluctant but courteous smile comes to her reddened face
"You've arrived just in time. I am Kendra Lorrimor. Petros is...is...he's my father..."
Her expression contorts with grief, and she looks away, trying to regain her composure. The heavyset man places a plump hand on her shoulder and stares hard at you before speaking.
"Welcome to Ravengro, strangers. Would that you traveled here for happier events."
Upon encountering the mourners, Please allow me to express my condolences for your loss. Professor Lorrimor was a very wise and kind man and he will be greatly missed. Iovanna will wait patiently to pay her respects at the casket and finds a place to quietly stand during the service.
Jaxus walked over the ridge and peered down at the small town. The morning fog dimmed the light enough that sun wasn't hurting his eyes yet, which he was greatful. As he walked down the hill into town his mind slipped back in time. It has been over a year since he had last seen the Professor and longer since he had been to Ravengro. He was both surprised and saddened when he got the letter requesting his presence for the reading of his will. Jaxus didn't even know the Professor was back at Ravengro and he was very curious about what happened to lead to his death.
As Jaxus walked up to the crowd around the casket he noticed the women crying. Jaxus guessed that was the Professors daughter since he talked about her when they met but Jaxus had never met her. He also noticed young women in gleaming armor waiting patiently to pay her respects.
Jaxus walked up to Kendra, "Hello milady it is nice to finally meet you, your father talked about you often. I wish we could have met under better circumstances, I am truly sorry for you fathers passing."
Jaxus steps to the side and nods slightly to the black haired women and silently waits.
"Thank you both." Kendra attempts another smile, but has little success. The heavyset man squeezes her shoulder, and she puts her hand on his. "And thank you, Vashian."
"Of course." He answers her. "Kendra. It is time."
Kendra nods, then kneels down, placing her hand on the coffin. Her lips mouth a silent prayer.
Perception to notice anything off about Jaxus.
Stood at the back standing out somewhat from the other mourners is a towering Ulfen man, dressed in breastplate armour over well-worn travelling clothes. Putting him even more out of place, a battered old helm with the horns stylised as small metal antlers rests upon his head. Hrolf does not shed a tear, for that would dishonour the memory of the man he had begun to think of as his father. Hrolf does not meet anyone's eyes, for today is not a day to challenge others. He wished with all his heart that Professor Lorrimor had been in his bloodline; he would dearly love the council of the old man and to hear his voice, if only one more time.
Knowing that he might have to make a speech or talk with Lorrimor's daughter, Hrolf muttered a quick spell to improve his own eloquence.
Moving forward with the other travellers, Hrolf gently drew the longsword he had purchased in the last town he had passed through before Ravengro- his other hand raised reassuringly to indicate that he meant no harm or threat with the action. He held the sword blade-down, waiting patiently until he reached the coffin, eyes only looking at the wooden casket and at the woman who must be his daughter stood in tears beside it.
When he finally reached Kendra, Hrolf lowered himself to one knee before her and the coffin in respect, holding out the sword before him in two hands with his head bowed. He felt a little out of place at the funeral and he closed his eyes for a moment, time seeming to stop still for him.
Before his spirit eyes, the pale silhouette of Asvald Bergthor materialised before him, sat on the highest chair around the warm campfire that represented his place of inner strength. The ancient tribal heroes could appear as any aspect of their mortal lives, but The Elder always appeared as he was near the very end of his long life. He appeared to be alone this time, perhaps he had dismissed Gudmand and Ivar; their chairs sat empty at any rate. The Elder gazed upon Hrolf sternly, launching immediately into one of his quiet lectures.
You must remember Hrolf, these people are not Ulfen and do not know our ways. Although you mean this as a sign of great respect, they may see it as you trying to force your customs and culture upon their townsman's funeral. When you address the lady, be respectful and do not press the issue. Keep your voice steady and gentle, as though you are trying to persuade a horse to let you ride him for the first time. Don't forget to be as...
The vision began to fade out as quickly as it had come, but even as Hrolf opened his eyes he could still hear The Elder's voice, slowly fading away. Although for everyone else at the funeral the lean Ulfen man had seemed to close his eyes for only a moment, to him it seemed like the couple of minutes it had been in his vision. Raising his eyes up to Kendra's, the Ulfen man said in Common-
My lady- I am truly sympathetic for your loss. Although I cannot imagine or truly empathise with the pain of losing a father, I have lost a dear friend, and a man I viewed in just such a paternal manner. The Professor was my employer, but we grew close in his many travels in north-west Avistan. In particular, he was fascinated with Ulfen culture, and I with his academic interests and learned ways. I humbly ask you to consider allowing this great man, your father, to be honoured in the Ulfen way as well as in accord with your own religious practices. I present to you this humble longsword, in the hope that you will allow it to be buried alongside Professor Lorrimor in honour of him. Forgive me, for it is a mere trinket and an unworthy item to share his afterlife with, but I could not afford an item of greater value, much to my own distress.
Jaxus watched a the big man walked up to Kendra and even though his posture didn't seem threatening when he drew the sword Jaxus felt his hand on his own long sword. Jaxus of all people knows that not all people are as they appear. Only after the big man finishes his offering does Jaxus relax.
The already quiet gathering becomes utterly silent as Kendra Lorrimor stares at Hrolf Steinholf. A long moment passes before another of Ravengro's citizens raises his voice from several paces away.
"Lorrimor, brave as he was, cannot have been called a warrior. Why bury him with a sword he never wielded?"
"Because his daughter would have it." Kendra rises slowly to her feet. "What is your name, traveler? Who have I to thank for this offering?"
Iovanna takes note of the two new arrivals and gives each an appraising look as neither appears local to the area. One is easily the tallest man I've ever seen and the other the palest. I wonder what their stories are and how they knew Professor Lorrimar? She tenses up momentarily when the Ulfen first drew his sword, but then relaxed when she realized his intent was not to attack anyone.
Jaxus settles back and looks around again and his eye fall on the women next to him. "You don't look local. How did you know the Professor?"
"I had the honor of meeting Professor Lorrimar during several of his seminars. Were you also a student, for you do not look to be local either?"
"I had the honor of meeting Professor Lorrimar during several of his seminars. Were you also a student, for you do not look to be local either?"
"No, I am not local, the Professor helped me out about ten years ago and I have been keeping in touch ever since. I even lived here for about a year and then I have been wandering around for the last couple years."
Jaxus looks the women up and down. "My name is Jaxus." He squints a bit as he looks at her armor. "Your awfully bright, almost could hurt ones eyes.", Jaxus smirks at this as if it seems funny.
"Because his daughter would have it." Kendra rises slowly to her feet. "What is your name, traveler? Who have I to thank for this offering?"
Hrolf Steinolf, formerly of the Bergthorul tribe in Irrisen. Thank you for granting my request he finished, placing the sword gently in Kendra's hands while completely ignoring the citizen's outburst. Bowing (a little awkwardly), Hrolf stood back to let others have their final words.
After watching the grouping of people around the gravesite, Tetsuo decides it is safe to appraoch given the diverse nature of the individuals and general amiable attitude they seem to be taking towardone another. Slipping quietly out of the wood line, a monk in his late twenties wearing white and black robes moves forwad to join in paying his respects.
Stepping next to the professor's daughter he tilts his forward, one open hand to his chest, and speaks what sounds like a short prayer in a foreign tongue. Tilting the wide, low brimmed hat back on his head to expose his face. Around his next a set prayer beads each marked with alternating symbols of Irori and Pharasma hang designating him as a warrior of their faith.
Making the same gesture toward the group, he again bows his head and greets them in an accented common,"Irori be praised. It seems I am not the onry one who has lecieved the news of our fliends death. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Tetsuo Hayashi, monk of the new dawn, follower of the god's Irori and Pharasma." Bowing again he turns to Kendraand says, "Miss Kendra it has been too long and you have grown much since I last laid eyes on you. I was saddened to hear of your father's passing."
After conversing in a quiet voice with the professor's daughter for a moment he turns to Jaxus with a flat face and ask,"Sir, did you say your name was Jaxus? Our mutual friend has mentioned your name to me before I last love this land. I should think you and I may benefit from some conversation later today."
Rosanna sat atop her pony overlooking the town of Revengro. From her communications with the Professor she knew that he considered it a modest, small and out of the way settlement, but for her it was amongst the largest collections of buildings she had ever seen, some of the stone buildings were three stories high!
The young half-elf had travelled some distance to the town, travelling cross-country for the most part to avaoid the suspicious stares that often confronted her from the suspicious inhabitants of the small villiges of the region. But now, finally, she had arrived at her distination. Somewhere in the town was the Proffesor, one of the only people who'd ever looked past the strangeness of her half-elven appearance. Glancing at the small weasel which perched on the pommel of her saddle also peering towards the town Rosanna focused and..
Well Aranca, I can't very well study with the Proffessor if i don't go in to the town can I? Let's get a move on!
With that she kicked the pony forwards into a trot, pausing only to pull the hood of her long winter cloak over her head to hide her prominently pointed ears. If only i could hide my eyes as easily Aranca, I'd have a much easier time of it!
Moving between the buidlings Rosanna began to feel closed in, looking for some sign of where to go. Pulling up next to a village women she kept her eyes carefully downward and asked.
"Excuse me, I was wondering if at all possible, if you might be able to tell me where the house of Proffessor Lorrimor might be found? He's expecting me, or at least I sent a letter, I'm hoping to become a student of his?"
Looking up and peering suspiciously at the half-elf the woman sighed,.. "ahh my dear. I'm sorry to tell you that the Proffessor, well, he's dead. That's his funeral happening now at the edge of town."
Forgetting herself for a moment Rosanna raised her head, her amethyst-hughed eyes widening within her hood. "Dead? But he can't be? His funeral? But..." shocked at the sight of the girl's eyes the villiager steped backward making a warding sign with her fingers before turning back into her house and closing the door.
He can't be dead can he Aranca? What will we do? We've got nowhere else to go. Turning her pony she slowely, hesitantly made her way to the congeregation assembled, stopping to dismount the pony and walk the last little way on foot, Aranca perched on her shoulder, glancing nervously at the strange crowd.
perception
I wonder why he finds the notion of bright armor funny? "It is a pleasure to meet another friend of Professor Lorrimar. My name is Iovanna and I have taken leave from Lastwall to attend the service and pay my repects."
When the monk approaches and speaks to Jaxus, Iovanna's gaze wonders back over the crowd and she notices the forlorn looking young girl making her way towards the crows. Speaking quietly to herself, "Poor thing looks like she is also taking the good Professor's demise quite hard."
"Thank you, Hrolf Steinholf." Kendra Lorrimor looks over the weapon. It is apparent that she is not used to handling arms. After a moment, she speaks again, her voice wavering, but with some newly found strength. "Vashian...the sword. If you would...?"
"Of course I will." The heavyset man gingerly takes the sword from her and turns, kneeling down to the coffin. Kendra looks away as he opens the lid ever so slightly and carefully places the sword next to the body of her father.
Kendra rather suddenly turns her attention to the monk that has just spoken. "Tetsuo Hayashi? Why yes, it is you! It has been too long, my friend. I would hear of your travels since. After, of course. After we've..." Kendra takes a deeps breath, then looking up, spots Rosanna approaching. "Come, come. You are not too late. All are welcome here, as we commit my father to Pharasma. And...we should begin. It is tradition that we walk him to the Restlands, just up that path." Kendra indicates a muddy walkway to her left. "I will need a few volunteers from this gathering to bear the casket. Do any of you wish to do this?"
Hrolf said nothing, but stepped forward and over to the casket to make his intent clear.
I hope the other carriers aren't too short... he thought to himself.
perception** spoiler omitted **
I wonder why he finds the notion of bright armor funny? "It is a pleasure to meet another friend of Professor Lorrimar. My name is Iovanna and I have taken leave from Lastwall to attend the service and pay my repects."
Jaxus smiles, "Ah, from Lastwall, keeping an eye on both Gallowspire and the orcs to the west. Thank You for that."
,"Sir, did you say your name was Jaxus? Our mutual friend has mentioned your name to me before I last love this land. I should think you and I may benefit from some conversation later today."
Jaxus looks the monk up and down, Well I look down right normal standing next to most of these people. "Well met, we will indeed have to talk later and maybe toast to our good friends passing."
As Kendra finishes Jaxus steps across from the big man and prepares to lift the coffin.
"I would be honored to help." Iovanna steps forward and will assist in lifting and bearing the coffin to the Restlands. Looking up at Hrolf as she stands across from him, This man almost makes me feel as if I were a Halfling.
"Thank you all. That should be adequate. I will lead the procession along the Dreamwake." With her back to the small crowd, Kendra steps onto the the path you are to follow. She takes a moment to silently compose herself. She breathes deeply, clenching her fists at her sides before bringing them to her chest. She says a prayer aloud:
"Pharasma,
Lady of Graves,
Take now my father, Petros Lorrimor,
Guide him to your citadel,
That he may find rest.
Amen."
"Amen." The funeral gathering answers.
As Kendra prays, the heavyset man looks across Iovanna, Hrolf and Jaxus before kneeling down and taking hold of the bottom of the casket. Working together, the four of you hoist it. The coffin is heavy, and it rests upon your shoulders at an awkward slant, thanks to the towering Ulfen at the front. Jaxus, beside him, compensates easily enough, and the procession begins. Hayashi and Rosanna follow, in step.
The muddy gravel beneath your feet crunches as you tread upon it, and walking upon the somewhat unstable surface is not made easier by the added weight of the casket. The four pallbearers do not lack in strength, however, and this challenge is overcome. As the path winds, the procession moves in relative silence, though the wheezing of the heavyset man becomes more and more audible.
A few of the townsfolk in attendance scrutinize Rosanna and Hayashi, their eyes full of fearful wonder and their minds distracted from the occasion. They pass no whispers, but their awe is palpable and their thoughts easy to read. Their lack of dignity is made up for by Kendra, who marches in step at the head of the group as stoically as she can manage.
The morning sun peeks from the clouds, but it does little to disperse the quiet gloom as you come upon the Restlands. The graveyard sits atop a slight hill, and the mud brick wall that rings its outer edges has several gaps which open to admit the forking path on which you walk. As you enter the cemetery grounds, you notice that a dozen men stand in waiting, blocking your passage. Kendra stops.
A grizzled, well-muscled man steps forward from the others. He scans the funeral procession, quickly taking sum of those present. The heavyset man assisting you with the coffin calls out to him, not without some labor.
"Gibs Hephenus. What is your purpose here?"
"Good morning, Councilman." The man responds in a deep baritone voice. "That’s far enough. We been talking, and we don’t want Lorrimor buried in the Restlands. You can take him upriver and bury him there if you want, but he ain’t goin’ in the ground here!"
The men step into loose formation. Though the ringleader has the bearing of a soldier, those that stand with him look little more than gruff farmhands. All the same, they wield pitchforks and clubs and stand ready to repel the funeral procession.
Hrolf turns his suddenly menacing stare at the ringleader, growling a little in a guttural manner before rising to his full height and threatening-
Out of our way, pups. This great man will be honoured even if I must put you in the ground right after him!
Intimidate
Sparing a glance at Hrolf, My goodness, I hope I'm never on his bad side. Iovanna addresses the men blocking the path; "You men have no authority to deny Professor Lorrimar his right to be put to rest with all the ceremony and honor due to him. Please stand aside or I will assist this gentleman here with removing you from our path." Looking assured in her ability to carry out her threat, I have slain orcs on the field of battle, I will not be cowed by men such as these.
Jaxus shifts the coffin slightly to free up his sword arm and waits. If they are not scared of this giant there is going to be a fight. Jaxus thinks to himself. He tightens his grip on the coffin and gets ready.
One of the men drops his pitchfork and begins backing away. Then another. A third turns and sprints out of the Restlands as fast as he can. The man you heard referred to as Gibs Hepehenus stares sullenly at Hrolf and Iovanna, but even the bravest of his lackeys lower their weapons.
"C'mon, boys. Pharasma'll protect our dead from that old necromancer's ghost better than rusty farm tools."
Kendra can no longer restrain her anger. "My father was not a necromancer!"
Gibs Hephenus does not respond as he turns to leave. Those in his company that have not yet fled file out behind him. Kendra Lorrimor watches them go, waiting a moment before turning back to the group.
"Words cannot express my gratitude. That you honor my father so...it brings needed warmth to my heart. My thanks are beyond measure." Kendra's face hardens. "I am sorry that happened. I can scarcely believe..." Her words trail off, her gaze once again following after the dispersed mob.
Jaxus regrips the coffin and continues up the hill. Well this group of people might be worth getting to know.
Roasanna looks around at the two figures that stepped forward to confront the men.
Gods Aranca, he's the biggest man that i evar saw! I'd better watch myself, some of the people here could be dangerous. What should I do if it comes to blows.?" Rosanna tilted her head slightly, which spell would be best to help? Preferably one that wouldn't draw too much attention.
Once the men have left Rosanna stays on the outer edge of the crowd, sobbing to herself and glancing around nervously, within the shadows of her hood.
Kendra is not the only one who fails to restrain emotion, "How dare he besmirch a good man's name that way!" That man ought to be grateful that my hands are currently full.
Seeing that the others have handled the situation with no need for undue violence, Hayashi continues on with the rest into the Restlands. Glancing over his shoulder he notices Rosanna seems very timid, but before he can attend to her Iovanna continues to yell at the departing men. Turning his attention to her, he says"They have departed, Iovanna. It will be counter-productive to continue down this path and likely to result in unnecessary violence. These men are not as versed in the way of the world as we are and, while misguided, mean only to protect their families."
Jaxus looks back towards the fleeing men, I wonder why they think the Professor was a necromancer? I know there are plenty of idiots in the world but most people don't jump to that big of a conclusion with out a little help. I will have to talk to Kendra at a better time, maybe I am missing something. Shaking his head he turns back to the matter at hand.
"Gibs Hephenus is a ruffian, and those in his company were all men of low character and little imagination. Think nothing of it." The heavyset man coughs and shifts his weight under the coffin. "Let us continue."
Kendra nods, and the funeral procession moves once more. A newly dug grave comes into view, and Kendra slows her pace before coming to a stop. A spindly man clad in dark robes stands at the recently carved headstone of Professor Petros Lorrimor, two attendants by his side. His face is weathered and cracked with age, held together by a solemn look. It softens as Kendra approaches him.
"Father Grimburrow." Kendra lets out a pained laugh. "I thought we might not make it to you."
"I saw a handful of men gathered upon the Dreamwake. Did they not come to pay their respects?" The priest's face creases with concern.
"They had other intentions...but it is no matter. My father had the fortune of wonderful friends."
"Indeed. Are you all right, my child?"
"I have strength in me still, Father. I have spent most of the day's tears already."
Thanks in large part to the heavyset man's desire to be done with the casket, you have by now placed it on the soft earth before the yawning grave. Father Grimburrow steps forward and kneels, placing his shriveled hand atop it. The funeral congregation listens quietly as he begins the service with a prayer:
"Pharasma,
Lady of Graves,
We know now why Petros was taken from us,
Only that he was.
We know not what he sees,
Only where he should be.
We, of frail and mortal make,
Must trust in you always.
And we do.
Amen."
"Amen."
The priest stands. "Let those that knew him say something of him. Have any of you a story to share?"
Rosanna nervously stood at the back of the gathered crowd. The professor had been so good to her, accepting her where so few had before but, to say something? No, That would only draw unwanted eyes. Silently the young girl lowered her eyes. Farewell Professor. I thank you for your goodness, your conversation and your kindness. The gods and spirits keep you.
Jaxus looks down at the coffin "The Professor helped me accept certain things about myself and I will be forever grateful. Thank You and farewell."
Hrolf slowly shakes his head.
I said my piece when I gave Kendra the sword...
Bowing his slightly and saying,"Pharasma be praised." Tetsuo addresses the gathered grouping of friends of the professor. "It was three years ago when I came upon Professor Lorrimor. His caravan had come under attack from a group of zombies I had been tracking in the area. Thankfully I was able to bring them down quickly and assist their souls to Pharasma's hands. It was fate that brought me to the trail of these undead as they lead directly to the man whom I sought. From that day on the professor was a great friend and mentor, teaching me much about the habits of my undead prey." The monk again makes a hand gesture and speaks words in his own language before moving back again to his spot in the crowd.
I regret the chance to know Professor Lorrimar better. He was a most wonderful teacher and I am sure he will be missed greatly by all whose lives he touched.
Kendra clears her throat. "Thank you for your words. I should have planned something. I certainly tried. I pulled out several of my father's journals, figuring that's what he would have done, if he was to have something to say for his funeral." The faintest smile appears on her face before disappearing. "And his entries were filled with wonder and curiosity. But they said little of me, so it did not feel right to pull a story from them." She looks down for a moment before continuing.
"But he loved me, I know. He didn't write it in journals or record it in his travel log. That's because it was in his smile. It was in the strength of his arms when he lifted me up from a scraped knee. It was in his laugh by the fireplace on stormy nights when it was just the two of us. It was in his feverish need to help me, whenever I was delving into research of my own. That's why it's hard...now." Kendra's voice cracks with sorrow. "Because when I found out he had...died...I poured myself into this day being perfect. I wanted to honor him as he deserved. And thanks to you all, I have, but he's still...he's still...he's not here. This is for him, but he's not here." Kendra crumples, falling to her knees and spreading her arms across the coffin. Father Grimburrow watches uncomfortably, but says nothing.
Hrolf moves over to Kendra, placing a hand on her shoulder and speaking quietly to her on something he has personal experience with.
Lass- I happen to be blessed in one particular way. I am able to speak to my ancestors for brief moments. Their blood and magic runs in my veins. I know this in itself is of no comfort to you but know this; my ancestor's watch over me and can see my trials and tribulations, even when I cannot see them. Your father's spirit is watching, from beyond the veil, not in this casket of wood. Let me tell you something, Kendra. You will have made him proud this day.
Wiping the tears from here eyes, Kendra looks around her, then at Hrolf. "Thank you, Hrolf. You bring me more comfort than you can know." She stands and steps back from the casket. Father Grimburrow proceeds with the eulogy.
"We all knew Petros Lorrimor to be the best kind of man. He cared deeply for his family and his neighbors. He had in him a bravery that many today lack, and he never shied away from the possibility of discovery. Would that more men were like him. It is sad to see him go, but he is under Pharasma's watchful gaze now, and there shall he remain for all eternity.
I do wonder, when we pass beyond this world and to the next, the manner in which we will meet our lost loved ones and friends. Will they be young and spry, representations of the people we knew in their prime? Or perhaps, old and infirm, shuffling ever on for the rest of time? None here can say, but I like to think that when I hear Pharasma's call, my spirit will float upwards to the great citadel, and there I will find Petros Lorrimor hunched over some ancient stone, giddy with excitement and eager to tell me of the conjectures he has drawn."
There is some laughter from those assembled.
"But I fear I would have little to say to him, for my wish would be to tell him how deeply he touched the world in his time, and how it misses him. But I I think this was already known to Petros. It is maybe apparent in the many books he penned, but it is certainly present on the faces of those that he reached out to in life.
Goodbye, old friend. Pharasma guide your soul to its resting place. Amen."
"Amen."
Father Grimburrow steps back, and the funeral service comes to an end. Several gravediggers, who had been standing at a distance, come forward and take hold of the coffin as they prepare to lower it into the open earth.
Kendra takes one last look at the casket containing her father, then smiles sadly at Hrolf before beginning the slow walk out of the Restlands. "The reading of the will shall take place shortly, at our home. I understand five of you will join us."
The heavyset man walks up from behind. "We sent out five letters, Kendra, just as Petros instructed, but one of them proved futile. There are five that are to attend, but only four of the letters were received."
"Oh." Kendra frowns. "Who shall we have then?"
"Begging your pardon, strangers. I don't ever think I introduced myself. I am Councilman Vashian Hearthmount, and I will administer the reading of the will." He pulls a piece of parchment from his vest and squints, studying it briefly. "Requested were Jaxus Deverou, Tetsuo Hayashi, Iovanna of Lastwall, Hrolf Steinholf and Rosanna Tsarataranni." He mispronounces all five names. "But the last letter, sent to the village of Ahlm in Vieland, never reached this Rosanna. I do not think she is here."
Rosanna smiles to herself as Kendra describes her father's excitement at sharing his research. That's just what he was like in Ahlm too. Like a little child or, like you Aranca, always getting yourself into trouble.
At the councilman's words Rossana starts and, forgetting herself, looks up, revealing her tear-streaked almond-shaped eyes which flash a vivid amethyst in the cold morning light. "Rosanna Tsarataranni? Are you sure? Well, umm that's me but, are you sure? His will? Why would he...?"
As people turn to face her she quiets, again lowering her eyes. Sensing her nervousness, the weasel on her shoulder runs down her back and places itself protectively between the girl and the onlookers, standing on its hgind legs and chittering a warning.
Looking over to the nervous girl. I know not why he sent me a letter either. I only knew him for a short time and I doubt that I was one of his best students. Please come with us and we can find out together. Iovanna is trying to appear confident even though she is also unsure as to why she is here.
Jaxus nods and steps forward, "I think all of us have questions, lets go some where we can sit and talk."
Vashian Hearthmount takes a step backwards, his eyes narrowing as he peers at Rosanna. Though the funeral party has disbanded and most onlookers stand at a distance, the half-elf's strange eyes have not gone unnoticed. Another man, shorter and thinner than Hearthmount, shares in his stare.
"Changeling." He speaks, sure of himself.
"You would not know a changeling, Gharen. And they are little more than legend." Hearthmount answers. "Though strange are her eyes, and the little beast she carries. Why is it, young one, that our messenger in Ahlm missed you, yet you have nevertheless arrived here, in time for the funeral and the reading of the will?" He looks to Iovanna. "I am not skilled at uncovering deceit, paladin of Lastwall, but perhaps you should keep close watch on this one."
"Enough! Kendra's sharp voice breaks Vashian Hearthmount's seeming trance. "She is my guest, as are the others. I would have them come with me now, to hear the will. Will you come and read it, Vashian?"
"Councilman!" He snaps. "And yes, I will, but I have some prearranged business to see to first. I will find you later, Kendra Lorrimor. I certainly hope you are safe among these travelers."
Jaxus walks up to the 'councilman'. "Don't worry Councilman." Jaxus says letting the word councilman hang with contempt. "Even though I am sure you wouldn't know a changling if she walked up and ticked that role under your chin, we will protect Kendra from this 'terrifying' girl." Jaxus finishes with a big smile letting the councilman see his slightly longer teeth.
Hearthmount looks at Jaxus, then at the sliver of sun in the sky, then back at Jaxus. "You have a perverse sense of humor, son." He turns and walks away speedily, muttering as he does. The other man follows him, but takes a long look over his shoulder as he goes.
Kendra looks very troubled. "Forgive them. They do not realize how large the world is. Still...they have never acted like that. Gibs Hephenus too...at his drunkest...he has never threatened anybody with weapons in hand, let alone with an assembled mob...I feel...so unsettled." Kendra stumbles a moment, but quickly recovers from her dizziness. "You are right, Jaxus. There are many questions to discussed, and I would like some tea. I am going home. I would be honored if all of you would join me."
"Of course, Ms. Kendra. Please, lead the way., Tetsuo says gesturing with his for the young lady to move on. "I have spent much time in your country and have always found the people to caring, but guarded. Your's is not a land where welcoming everyone you meet into your home is wise or safe thing to do.", he adds looking to Jaxus for a moment after Kendra has passed him.
Her eyes are probably just from her elven heritage. I have no idea why that man talks of changeling nonsense. She is obviously scared by all this attention and he has only made it worse. During the verbal exchange between Hearthmount and Jaxus, Iovanna glares at the Councilman wondering if she should speak up as well. After Hearthmount leaves, she then give Jaxus a long appraising look. At first I thought Hrolf the most intimidating of this group, now I am not so sure.
After noticing Kendra stumble, Iovanna offers her her arm for support. I would not dream of ordering someone about in their own household Miss Kendra, but I think it would be best if you were to sit down when we get there and allow me to make the tea. You'll just have to let me know where you keep the kettle and tea. Iovanna will also look back to Rosanna to make sure that she is following the group and smile encouragling at her.
As Hearthmount and the shorter man speak Rosanna seems to withdraw further into her hood, taking a nervous step backwards. At Jaxus's words she lokks up, glancing between the two men.
At Kendra's words Rosanna looks up with a small, faint smile. "My thanks Lady, but it's not the first time i've been treated in such a way. Your father, I'm sorry but, he was one of the few who've ever really treated me any different. I'm so sorry for your loss.
As the others head towards Kendra's house Rosanna follows, fetching her pony on the way. At Iovanna's smile the girl shyly smiles in return. I suppose that if i can trust anyone it'd be the Professor's family and those he knew well Aranca. Why would he have mentioned me in his will? This town feels bad. Something's wrong but i don't know what. Probably best to stay with the others for the moment. It's not like we've got anywhere else to go.
Hrolf nods politely as the Councilman introduces himself and silently follows the others.
Kendra looks to Hayashi and smiles. "You are right. Your wisdom and understanding are appreciated, Tetsuo Hayashi. Has it been ten years since I saw you? It seems that way. I was but a girl then, yet you were already a warrior."
She turns to Rosanna. "You can expect from me the same friendship my father gave you, Rosanna. I heard him talk of you often. He wished us to meet some day. It is sad that we have only just done so at his funeral. But let us be on our way." She begins walking back towards the town.
"And Iovanna, I would welcome your assistance with tea."
Jaxus squints into the rising sun and pulls his large hood hip over his head as he feels the skin on his face get warm. He turns and follows the group to Kendras house.