Iagon nods at Anselm, seeming quite satisfied with the thought of becoming engrossed in the Professor's library. He tries to think of anything he could remember from his studies of Harrowstone, or of the enigmatic Whispering Way.
Seeing the concern shown Kendra, he looks at the young woman to gauge her feelings. This must be so much for her to consider...I can't imagine what she feels right now. Not only to lose her father so recently, but to now learn that there may be more to it. It's good that the others are putting her concerns first.
Kendra smiles at your courteousness and calmly replies:
You are right, I will be just fine. Tomorrow morning, I will help get you situated and point you in any direction you want to begin your investigations. Today has been long and it is getting late. May I show you to your rooms to retire for the evening?
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. Most of the hardened criminals sent to Harrowstone spent only a few months imprisoned, for it was here that most of Ustalav’s executions during that era were carried out. The fire that caused the tragedy was, in fact, a blessing in disguise, for the prisoners had rioted and gained control of the prison’s dungeons immediately
prior to the conf lagration. It was only through the selfsacrifice
of Warden Hawkran and 23 of his guards that the prisoners were prevented from escaping—the guards gave their lives to save the town of Ravengro.
Iagon smiles at Kendra's bravado. She's like her father in many ways. He shares what he knows of the history of Harrowstone with his new companions, then nods to Kendra.
Of course, Kendra. We'll have much to do tomorrow, so we'll all have need of our rest.
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What have I been drawn into? How could you place such responsibility on my shoulders? I am no hero. Did you think the Priest and his unyielding moral code or the noble Paladin would inspire me to be something more than I am? What a cruel jape to surround me with beautiful women as if they could see past my monstrous visage. Damn you Professor!
Razvan welcomes Kendra's interruption of Iagon's rebuke of his suggestion that the priest compromise his moral code in the slightest way so that innocent life might be protected. His agitation is quickly replaced by an excited nervousness when Kendra genuinely offers to house their confederacy. He is even more pleased when she offers him the key.
Thank you for your kind offer M'lady Lorrimor. The day has surely been long. However, as weary as I may be I fear I will get little rest. Perhaps a walk in the fresh air of the growing twilight will aid me in finding some measure of peace.
Turning to Kara and Anselm,As I stated earlier, your company would be most welcome on my walk as I fear solitude may give way to sullenness in this difficult time.
Iagon glances at Razvan and nods to Kendra. I agree; many of us may be prone to restlessness tonight. Kendra, if you would point me to any books that your father had that may have had anything on this Whispering Way, or the Harrowstone Prison, I'd appreciate it.
Also, are there any places within town that would have more information regarding either of these? The professor mentioned the temple of Pharasma in his notes; perhaps they have their own library there?
Jen scans through the Professor's books and realizes that she had seen a few of the books before, mostly in her own delvings into the strange arts of magic that she pursued. The others were mostly tomes of history and did not particularly interest her that much.
Despite this, there were still many books in the Professor's library that she did not have an opportunity to read before, and Kendra would require protection while the others were away.
"Yes, please direct us to the Professor's library. I think, there are many things that we need to look into. I doubt that the town could have any more books than the Professor himself."
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Hmm, probably don't want to bother people who are already upset with us at this hour.
It seems rather late to go out and converse with the townspeople, unless we happen to find someone at a tavern. We can do this tomorrow when everyone is better rested. I would accompany Iagon and Jen in their reading tonight; perhaps we can shed some light on the situation or at least get some background on the town peoples' attitudes towards the Professor to better frame our investigation tomorrow. With this, he collects the books that were in the chest to bring with him to the library. Best to be able to cross-reference with what they find, of course.
"I will gladly join you for a walk Razvan." Kara smiles at the half-orc. "I think some fresh air would be welcome."
Iagon studies well into the evening, seeking out more details on the Whispering Way.
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Razvan accompanies Kara outside into the night. Once they are far enough from the Lorrimor estate, Razvan speaks softly to Kara:
M'lady, the Professor mentioned in his journal that he had discovered that there were tools to defend against spirits in a false crypt in the Restlands at the intersection between Eversleep and the Black Path. I do not think our friend Iagon would approve of "borrowing" tools nor I think it prudent to draw too much attention to an investigation of the false crypt. I would suspect that this false crypt must be relatively safe given the Professor seems to have explored it without incident. Would you care to take a detour from our planned excursion?
That will tell you all you need to know about the Whispering Way, add this to what you already know:
to discern, but chief among the Whispering Way’s goals are
discovering formulae for creating liches and engineering
the release of the Whispering Tyrant. Agents often travel
to remote sites or areas plagued by notorious haunts
or undead menaces to perform field research or even to
capture unique monsters. Their symbol is a gagged skull,
and those who learn too many of the Way’s secrets are
often murdered, and their mouths mutilated to prevent
their bodies from divulging secrets via speak with dead.
"Sure, that sounds like a decent place to start." Kara shivers. "I sure hope you are right about it being safe, Razvan. Stories always speak about crypts being home for the undead. If we encounter any, I'm afraid it may be best to flee."
As you near towards the crypt discussed in the will, there are a couple of gravediggers near by that are finishing up on the professor's plot, continuing would risk them catching you and arousing some suspicion.
"Yes, perhaps that is best." Kara inwardly sighs in relief. She was pretty terrified by the prospect of snooping around a crypt at night.
When they reach the tavern, Kara walks in confidently and looks around for someone who looks like they'd be willing to talk.
Iagon shivers at the description of the Whispering Way, his eyes widening. He looks to Anselm, whose piety made Iagon feel a sort of kinship with him. This group is much as the professor described them, then - a cabal of necromancers. By the key, what could have brought Petros so close to such a group! It had to be large indeed, for our dear professor to risk so much.
He glances at Jen and turns slightly to include her. I don't like her suggestions about her seemingly taboo lore, but she was a friend of Petros, so she must be included.. Shall we call it a night, then? Tomorrow, perhaps we can find the local temple and seek out a library or town record of some sort for more information on this prison that Petros found so important.
Kara and Raz make their way to the "Laughing Demon" the town's tavern, and meet a cheerful barkeep named Zokar. He tells them that the special for the day are "Wolfballs" and gives them a big grin. Kara and Raz are also correct, at this late hour, tongues in the tavern are all too loose and a patron well past sobriety tells the following...
games—and it’s no coincidence that Zokar serves more corpse chowder after unpopular merchants “leave town,” never to be seen again. If Zokar
invites you into the Demon’s back room for a complimentary taste of that evening’s chowder, watch out!
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Razvan wrinkles his nose at the thought of eating last weeks merchant. He marvels at Kara's ability to coax information out of the normally distrustful natives. As time slips away, Razvan has to stifle a yawn. The long hours combined with the emotion of the last two days are beginning to take a toll. Only rest will help.
M'lady, the hour grows late. Perhaps we should retire for the evening?
Razvan waits for Kara to politely excuse herself so that they can return to the Lorrimor estate for some much needed rest. There is a momentary temptation to return to investigate the false crypt yet the thought is quickly dismissed.
Kara turns to the loose-tongued man still rattling off information, now repeating himself. "Excuse me, but we must be leaving. Thank you for the head's up." Kara deposits the cards she had been using to entertain the man into her scarf and nods to Razvan as they head out of the tavern. Stifling a yawn, she smiles at Razvan. "I think I'm ready for some sleep."
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Anselm nods slowly at Iagon, some understanding coming to him from his reading. I'm not able to say what brought him into contact with such... people. The word feels bitter in his mouth, and he spits it out uncomfortably. But now I understand a little bit of why the townspeople accosted us, and what their reasoning is. It can't be true, of course, but the reasoning is there. I think that there was some conclusion-jumping, combined with some superstitious natures. I'm not sure what to do hence, though. Perhaps Razvan and Kara shall find some more information.
Anselm sits back in his chair, brings his hands up and entwines his fingers, resting his head in his hands and leaning back. For several moments he is quiet, thinking and trying to put things together.
Why would Petros associate with these people? What could he possibly seek to learn from them? It just doesn't add up. There's got to be a connection... but what is it? And to what?
He sits up again, resolutely. We need more information. There's got to be other people others who knew the professor who can tell us more about his work. Or maybe it's documented here. But... we're going to have to trawl through a man's life's work. It's not going to be easy.
Ready here
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Razvan gazed enviously at the large bed occupying the center of the opulent room to which he had been shown. The bed looked warm and luxurious. The plump mattress was undoubtedly stuffed with down feathers and likely would have been the most comfortable mattress the half orc had ever slept in. Instead, he moved to a corner of the room opposite the door and with clear path to the room's only window and settled down with a resigned sigh.
Why am I here? What business does a half-breed thief have playing at Knights and Maidens? As if I could ever be a hero and win the maiden's heart. I must be a damn fool for coming here...a damn fool for staying...I am no hero...
Nightmares of a ghastly Professor pointing an accusatory finger at Razvan proclaiming loudly to all, "Youuu arrre nooot woooorthy!", are fueled by the half-orc's worst fears combined with the startling events of the day. Finally, he settles into a dreamless slumber.
Kendra has a room in the manor for each of you, it is cozy and has a nice soft bed and a closet and chest for your belongings.
Despite the accommodations, your nights rest is anything but peaceful. Each of you have the following dreams.
Iagon lay awake through the early morning hours, tossing this way and that in an attempt to catch a few last minutes of sleep, but none would come. His thoughts and fears were coalescing into an intellectual reminder...albeit a bothersome one, and he couldn't banish them no matter how hard he tried.
He silently curses his overactive imagination as he rolls out of the soft bed, but he can't help but consider the dream as something more than a simple nightmare. He goes through his morning prayers, but takes longer due to his distraction. After some time, he makes his way to the manor's common room to see the others.
Perhaps some of the others slept better, for a sorry investigative crew we will be if none of us slept. He seeks out some warm tea or a morning repast, hoping that he was early enough to help Kendra gather together breakfast for her new charges. To the first of his newfound companions that he meets, he says. {b]I hope you slept better than I...couldn't shake this dream last night.[/b]
Kara wakes up and stifles a scream by covering her hands over her mouth. Not able to sleep much longer, she gets up and dresses. I have to figure out what that dream meant... Kara pulls out her Harrow deck and shuffles it. That's when she notices her hands are sore and they have little pockmarks, as if they were bitten and then healed over. She draws a card at random from the deck. It turns out to be The Twin, which signifies a duality of purpose. That's funny, I drew this same card yesterday. It doesn't tell me much about the dream, but I should be careful not to be indecisive today. I wonder if the deck is trying to emphasize this?
Kara then heads to the kitchen, staring at her hands along the way. She hopes to find something for breakfast and perhaps she could help a little bit to take her mind off of the dream. She barely notices when Iagon addresses her, asking how she slept. After a minute, she looks up. "What? Oh... No, I didn't sleep well either. I had a troubling dream too."
Iagon nods slowly, his face a picture of concern. I fear that I don't usually believe in coincidences, so I'd like to see if the others fared better than we did. My dream seemed to be about my own death and subsequent burial...a troubling thing. Was yours similar?
"I dreamed that I was listening to some beautiful music. But then the music was obscured by a buzzing sound and suddenly I was overcome with stirges. They blackened the sky, there were so many. They attacked me and I tried to defend myself with just my hands. The odd thing is that it seemed so real that I my hand still hurts..." Kara shivers at recounting her dream. Hopefully that's all it was.
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Razvan wakes feeling more tired than when he finally feel asleep. He is unsettled by the confusing dream. The feeling of being watched causes him to look about the room as he chides himself for his paranoia. Hearing the creak of doors and footsteps, Razvan guesses that at least some of his comrades are awake. He wearily goes to join them.
When he sees Kara, Razvan is suddenly concerned about his disheveled appearance. His pulse quickens and he contemplates returning to his room before he is noticed. The talk of dreams causes his face to burn, images of Kara and Kendra flash through his mind. The feeling of being watched becomes overwhelming as Razvan remembers the voice.
My dreams were troubled too. I feel as if I am being watched. It was as if something or someone was trying to find me. Demanding to know my name. I don't like being watched.
Kara gives Razvan an encouraging smile. "They were only dreams. Dreams can't hurt us because they aren't real." She says these words to Razvan, but he gets the impression she's trying to convince herself as much as him.
Iagon sniffs, as if testing the air. I know what you mean...I still smell the fresh earth that was being shoveled over my body. He looks to Razvan and nods. You too, then? Dreams are just that, for certain, but there are those things out there that dwell in them, waiting. He trails off, a haunted look on his face for a moment, but he snaps back to the now, and forces a light smile.
I think that we'll need to confer with the others. Has anyone seen our delightful host? I thought that perhaps we could make breakfast for her...seems the least we could do, and our idle hands could use something to focus on, lest we dwell more upon our dreams
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Anselm's brow furrows rather deeply, both in thought and at the unsettling idea of everyone sharing haunting dreams.
So it seems we've all had some rather disturbing dreams the previous night? I begin to wonder if they're somehow related. I also do not believe in coincidences. To contribute to our knowledge: my dream was of a sort of half-waking state where it seemed someone drove a hammer through my forehead. I 'woke'—not entirely sure if I was awake—and touched my forehead, to feel my hand covered in blood. Yet when I examined myself in a mirror, everything seems to be fine.
They may only be dreams, but the fact that they happened all at once bothers me. I suspect they are somehow related. He turns to Kara thoughtfully. Perhaps I misunderstand your talents, but do you not have some knowledge of dreams and their meaning? I am strongly suspicious of these events and want to work out their reasoning. It's especially concerning considering what Iagon and I found in the library last night.
Iagon nods quickly, seemingly excited at the chance to share knowledge. He fills in Kara and Razvan on what the more scholarly group found, leaving out no details.
He chuckles after his retelling. Good news about the stew, though.
Kara smiles despite the queasiness she feels in her stomach about the stew. "Just to be clear about this stew. Razvan meant it literally... I'm pretty sure they serve... Well, you don't really want to die for it."
Iagon looks about to respond, but unsure what to say. He raises an eyebrow in question, then seems to think better of it, and instead he shakes his head, thinking that he must be the butt of some jest.
Odd ones, these friends of yours, Petros.
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Eugh. I don't think I want to know what's in the local tavern's stew. I'm glad that Kendra will be providing for us.
Nodding brisky, Anselm tries to change the subject. So! I'm rather looking forward to breaking my fast with more wholesome fare. Has anyone seen Kendra yet this morning? While I'm not sure we should fully disclose what we learned last night, I do believe it's important to at least keep her apprised of what we're doing. And after we have some food in us, I want to continue trying to uncover more of this Whispering Way, and of Harrowstone.
I hate mysteries. Mysteries lead to surprises. And in situations like this, surprises are always bad.
While Razvan fumbles with a lock, after learning that it is not trapped, there is a panicked knock at the front door.
The village messenger is standing outside and shouting frantically, QUICK COME TO THE OLD HARROWSTONE MEMORIAL!!!
Kendra enters from upstairs and sighs, Oh geez, what now...