Of the four men still in the fight, two (red) lower their weapons, ashamed. The other two (blue), however, sneer mightily and continue swinging...and missing.
Kendra gives Tipper a tap on the shoulder and he feels some sort of arcane power guiding him, just slightly, toward a more accurate future. She smiles and then looks pointedly at the man attacking Vara.
Taking the hint, the colonel swings his sap at the indicated thug's skull.
"Did that knock any sense into you?"
Vara steps to his side and tries to distract him.
"If they had any to begin with, they wouldn't be assailing a funeral possession."
Mr Chompy continues his chompy business, on the blue thug.
And gets a mouthful of pants for his trouble.
Gosk brings the hilt of his scythe down on another peasant.
The weapon impacts the man's shoulder with a crunching sound, drawing a couple of bared teeth from the onlookers. He turns around to look at his friends, baring his shiny white teeth. "Is it not time to stop?You're yet to even hit me, gentlemen, and now we outnumber you."
Gosk's scythe claims another victim as his foe falls to the ground beneath the blow, and Tipper's sap cracks the last hostile bandit's skull.
For a moment, the leader of the local thugs looks as if he's ready to join the fight himself, along with a few of his friends. The, down the path to the east, a withered, stooped old man begins shouting and waving a staff about, passing dangerously close to the two men who follow in his wake with shovels. His voice cracks and wavers, but seems to quickly knock the fight out of the remaining thugs as he hobbles closer.
"Gibs Hepenus! Kendra Lorrimir! What's gotten into you?! This is a place of rest, not of lunacy! When I was a child, Gibs, your grandfather never acted like this! And Kendra, you poor, sweet girl, your father is dead in his casket! There's no time for interruptions! We have to bury him quickly!"
Kendra bursts into fresh tears at the priest's harsh words, while Gibs and a few of the would-be assailants begin edging away until his gaze stops them cold. "Now, I'll be paying a visit to Sheriff Caeller about all of this once the body's in the ground, and if you haven't done so before I get there, may the Lady of Graves give you to the moon! Now get! Go on, get!"
He walks over more slowly, standing in the midst of the injured thugs as the uninjured head back toward Ravengro. A moment later, a gray mist gathers around him, blasting outward in a bust of holy energy. The thug's wounds heal quickly, as do Kendra, and he gestures toward the wounded, dismissing them wordlessly. Once the battlefield is clear, he speaks again, this time more softly, almost whispering.
"You must be guests of honor at this ceremony. My name is Father Vauran Grimburrow. Now, children, perhaps you can explain what was happening here, and then we can go to a funeral?"
Mr Chompy gives Father Grimburrrow a curious glance, and pays him no further heed. He then examines everyone's dishevelled clothes and snorts, with his eyes narrowed.
He gives a high pitched yip, and starts fixing everyone's clothes.
"My name is Vara. Praise Desna for your timely intervention with those pig-headed louts, Father Grimburrow. They slandered the good Professor and attacked us when we wanted to lay him to rest in the Restlands. If not for my fellow pallbearers, we would have been beaten up by the angry mob."
When Kendra starts bursting into tears, she moves over put her arm over Kendra's shoulder to comfort her. Once Kendra is ready to move on, she walks to Davi and whispers,"You were right, Davi. There's still some good sense and justice in this world,", with a small smile, before taking her place as one of the pallbearers.
The colonel puts his sap away and straightens his clothing.
Looking at the priest, he says "My name is Colonel Tipper."
Gesturing in the direction of the leaving villagers, he adds "It seems someone convinced those people that Professor Lorrimor practiced necromancy. Got at least one of the villagers worked up enough to try and interfere with the funeral. Tried to prevent the professor from getting a proper burial."
"Although we were attacked, the people were just trying to scare us. Hitting us with the shaft of a pitchfork rather than the tines."
The colonel returns to his place as a pallbearer. "Now, let us see to getting the professor a proper burial!"
"You really believe someone instigated them?"Vara asks with an incredulous note in her voice.
She gives a bitter laugh. "Those superstitious bigots don't need any help to find another scapegoat. They've been calling me witch longer then I care to remember."
The scythe is once again placed on Gosk's back. "Forgive us, Father. In our defense, we did try our best to negotiate before we were forced to defend ourselves.", he says as he walks back to his place by the coffin.
"I am Gosk Tereus, at your service.", he says, giving a bow to the Pharasmin. It'd be bad to bring up necromancy right now, wouldn't it... Although, wonder if there is another reason for burying the professor so fast..., he thinks, keeping his thoughts to himself. He regards the tiny dinosaur, giving him a wide grin as his robe is fixed under the armor. "Aw, thanks, pal."
He turns to Kendra. "I'm sorry for this, Kendra. You've done nothing to deserve any of this.", he says, sadness on his face.
Unsubstantiated accusations of necromancy. A crowd getting real mad without really thinking it through. At least one person there to make sure the crowd doesn't calm down. Very tidy, especially how the rabble-rouser stayed well out of combat.
With only a slight pause, the colonel replies with a "Yes" in response to Vara's question. "We can discuss why later. Let's get back to the job at hand!"
The colonel stands ready to proceed.
Davi sheathes her rapier with more force than necessary; it makes a loud *CLACK* as it slams into place. "Agreed. We do this properly, to honor the Professor, and leave the villagers for later." She moves to her place at the coffin, ready to pick it back up when the other pallbearers are in place.
Father Grimburrow’s bushy eyebrows furrow over his wrinkled face, and he hobbles to Kendra’s side, putting an arm around her waist and signalling to the party to continue. As the party moves along toward the grave site, he carries on a whispered conversation with the young lady, occasionally raising his voice, which frequently cracks under the strain of audible conversation. ”...ruffians, but don’t worry, the sheriff will take care of...no, they don’t mean harm, they just don’t know...Yes, I think…” She gradually relaxes, allowing the old man to lead her to the gravesite.
The hole’s already been dug, a six-foot-deep pit, but Grimburrow instead directs the party to place the coffin on the ground, then has his gravediggers run a series of hemp ropes through the handles. Once the casket is in place, he begins. A few townsfolk, dressed in finely-cut but old-looking clothes, stand by, but for the most part, there are few guests.
”Most esteemed Pharasma, Lady of Graves, we have gathered here to say good-bye. Petros Lorrimir was a father, a friend, and, though certainly odd, a member of our community. I remember the first time he and his daughter arrived in our town…” He continues in this vein for a handful of minutes, ending with a final invocation to Pharasma. ”We offer our prayers that Petros’s soul may move swiftly through her judgement, and for ourselves, simply say ‘not this year, not yet.’” He bows, then clears his throat, looking expectantly at the assembled mourners.
Of that group, the well-dressed townsfolk shift nervously, while Kendra takes a few deep breaths, attempting to steel herself for the ordeal that her eulogy will no doubt be. After a moment, she bursts into tears again; it seems to be up to you…
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"My name is Vara. I thank all of you for being here today, to escort Professor Lorrimir on his last journey,"her voice cracking slightly. She draws a deep breath to compose herself, then begins again."The professor taught all of us many things, but three of them are engraved in my heart. He showed me that even in the grey shadows of Ustalav, there is light and joy in the pursuit of knowledge. He taught me that the only by never giving up, can you achieve your goals..." her voice trailed off for a moment. She gives the audience a sad smile. ""Remember the time when the chest he opened resulted in a poltergeist throwing a bottle of ink at him? Did he care about the indignity of it? No, he said that the books in there was worth that and more."
"He taught me that no matter how much the world might misunderstand, what mattered was being true to ourselves, so that we could face our end without regrets. He was the father I never knew." There, it was finally out. It was such a pity he never got to hear those words. "Good-bye, Father. May your spirit roam free in the Elysium."
After Vara finishes, the colonel steps forward.
"I met Professor Lorrimir after an encounter with a creature called a mimic." Pausing to look around he adds "I do not know how many of you may already know this, but a mimic hunts by imitating furniture and such to lure people near it. The skin is covered with a glue-like substance that causes people to get stuck on it."
The colonel pauses a moment. "When I met the creature, I knew none of this. It was only by luck and my mates quickly killing it that I survived."
Smiling in remembrance, he says "The report somehow made it to Professor Lorrimir. He came around and interviewed each of the men who survived that encounter. Evidently he was impressed by the notes I had taken and shared some of what he knew of such creatures. Since that time the two of us have corresponded frequently, both to share what we know and as friends. Any time he would be lecturing nearby, I made a point of attending and frequently was able to grab a pint with him afterwards."
Looking down at the casket, the colonel says "I am not as skilled a lecturer as he, but it seems fitting that I try to teach a small tidbit of what I learned to any here who would listen."
"Good-bye Professor Lorrimir. May your teachings in this life continue to save the lives of others."
Gosk nods as Vara and the colonel share their memories with the grieving, and steps forward. He raises an eyebrow at the woman's revelation, sending a good hearted, if a bit sad, smile at her.
"I first met the professor a few years back. I hail from a small country called Nex, all the way across the continent, to learn more about the mysteries of magic.", he says, looking at the casket. It's always the case with us Nexians... keeping secrets into our graves.
"The professor was one of the few people willing to accept someone as much of an outsider as myself. He shared his house, his food and his wisdom. Our world grows dimmer as we lay him in the ground this day, but as long as we remember his words and carry forth his deeds, the light will shine upon our deeds. A man's legacy lives as long as his deeds are remembered, and Professor Petros Lorrimir will be a mark on the history of Ustalav for long after any of us are still standing.
"תנוח על משכבך בשלום , מורה." He pauses to explain to the attendees. "Rest in peace, mentor."
Davi is the last of the pallbearers to speak; she wishes she’d thought of something to say earlier, she’s having a hard time bending her thoughts into a proper speech.
”I, ah, I never had the privilege of meeting the Professor in person. But we were....that is…” her voice trails off. ’How do I say “He didn’t see a monster in me” to the same people who would run me out of town with pitchforks if they knew my heritage?’
A minute passes in silence as Davi thinks. ”I wrote to the Professor to ask his advice on a research project. I never imagined that we would become friends, but he was caring and compassionate and he bent over backwards to help someone he didn’t know. I was able to help his own research because of some unfortunate encounters on my part, but that man would have helped me if I had nothing to offer him in return. Petros was a good man.”
”My father...my father was a good father.” Kendra starts speaking, her voice quiet. ”He wasn’t always home, and mother died when I was just a little girl, so I was alone a lot, but when he was home, the things he showed me…” She stiffens, scowling at the other citizens of Ravengro. ”He wasn’t like you at all. He believed that yes, Ustalav was a dangerous place, and that yes, there were things we’d never understand in our lifetimes, but that didn’t mean stop trying.
“The way your citizens acted today would have made him sick, councilors. I recall at least a dozen times he hid men and women cursed with lycanthropy in our upstairs rooms in Lepidstadt until a cure could be delivered or they could be smuggled out of the city. I remember when I got lost in the swamps outside the city, and he organized a search party. He found me, but when I told him Jessanna was still missing, he made them stay out all night, never mind that she demon-tainted.
“This funeral is meant to be a lasting legacy to my father, but it’s been marred. So be it. These friends of my father honor him, and so do I.” She kneels down, placing a medallion shaped like a skull with Pharasma’s spiral behind it on the coffin, and then turns her back.
At a sign from Father Grimburrow, the two burly gravediggers take the ropes in hand and lift the coffin. As they finish lowering it into the hole, one of the jumps down beside it and swiftly latches a silver-gilded mortsafe shut, locking it with a padlock before climbing out with the help of his colleague. For his part, Father Grimburrow lifts an arm, draping it over Kendra’s shoulder. ”...should have known….father’s reputation...not much to do...I’m sorry, my daughter…” At this last part, she shrugs his arm off and turns to the party. ”There’s still business to be done. The will has to be read. I would much appreciate it if you could join me; I have some of my father’s fire-brandy left that I think would be a more proper send-off than...that. If not…” She pauses, obviously struggling to come up with things in the town to do. ...I suppose you could explore about the town for an hour. I may be able to give you a proper tour tomorrow, not that there’s much to see.”
"The brandy sounds like a fine idea, Miss Kendra." the colonel agrees.
Finding the instigator of this disturbance can hopefully wait. I want to know why someone disrupted the funeral like that. What would they have to gain?
Gosk listens to Kendra's words, nodding every time she looks in his direction. I can understand the anger in her... He takes a long, last look at the coffin before it's put in the ground. Goodbye, mentor.
He smiles at Kendra as she offers the brandy. "We'll join you, Kendra. I'm sure Ravengro isn't going to pick up and leave overnight." And you need us to distract you from tonight's thoughts...
And we were more alike then I had known. Doing good for people who would ostracize us for it. No wonder he understood her, all too well.
"I'll second the fire-brandy. We can all give him a proper send-off. The will can wait till morning."
Getting drunk to numb the edge of her sorrows sounded like a very good idea. About exploring the town...the less she saw of Ravengro, the better. But if Kendra was keen to show her around, she wouldn't want to hurt her feelings...
"Easy choice my dear. We're staying with you, and that fine brandy you mentioned." Davi smiles and offers her arm to Kendra. Getting the woman home safe trumps her personal desire to stalk around Ravengro, find the louts that attacked the funeral procession and bang their heads together.
Once home, Kendra gives the party a shy, somewhat embarrassed look, edging off toward a pair of double doors in the back of the house. She pauses, looks over her shoulder, and shrugs. ”I need to get out of this dress and into something more comfortable. I think…” She glances away, examining the cuckoo clock. ”...Yes, I’ll have enough time.” She vanishes behind the doors, and a few moments later, starts humming a slow melody.
When she comes out, Kendra is wearing loose-fitting breeches, a button-up shirt, and a long black jacket with flowing tails. However, her shoeless feet are still clad in the white lace stockings she must’ve been wearing beneath her dress. She reaches into a cabinet, coming out with a bottle and four snifters, then looking disappointed. After a moment, though, she resigns herself to her fate and pours, passing them around before finishing with one for herself, served in a crystal glass.
She flops down in an armchair, curling her legs underneath her, and then takes a drink, shuddering as it burns its way down her throat. She coughs once, then looks up. ”I’m afraid I don’t know you all that well, friends, but Father’s last letter said you were to be contacted specifically. Perhaps you could tell me a bit about yourselves, in the time we have before Councilman Hearthmount and his meaty jowls get here.” She giggles just slightly at her own joke.
Vara takes a swing of the crystal glass, and grimaces at its fiery taste.
"Huh, that walrus is coming here tonight? Bleh, I've had all I can stomach of the townsfolk today,"with a wry twist of her lips. "Sorry. The town doesn't like me, and I don't like it back." She blinks at Kendra owlishly. Clearly the alcohol seems to be loosening her inhibitions.
"Me?" she cocks her head sideways, taps on the table a few times with her index finger before continuing."Where do I start?," and pauses a while, then continues.
"I'm one who deals with the world unseen. The world that the Ustalavians don't want to believe in. Stuff of nightmares...things no normal weapons can harm, I deal with them. So people can sleep safe in their beds at night. And they call me a witch, because they'd rather deny the other world exists, then open their minds to the existence of those things lurking out there,"as she gestures at the windows with her thumb.
"Not much of a intro, hey, but if you wanted fancy, you should have gotten yourself a bard."
Mr Chompy lies on the carpet, next to his mistress's feet. He tsks disapprovingly as Vara takes the fire brandy.
The colonel stands to the side and slowly sips from his sniffer of brandy, enjoying the flavor.
He requested us specifically? Strange, I wonder why. The professor always thought it important a person learn how to unearth information on their own. I suspect if there is something he needed doing, he has left us some hints. Just need to look in the right places.
After Vara has finished her introduction, the colonel steps forward.
"I am Colonel Horatio Tipper, of the Taldan Exploratory Services." Should I mention how they advanced my rank shortly after I put in my request for leave? No, that would serve no purpose.
"I've been granted an extended leave of absence to tend to this matter." Looking directly at Kendra, he proudly states "Taldan honors and respects the work your father did and the aid he provided us. I already mentioned at the service how I came to meet him. That was not the only time he had rendered such aid."
The colonel pauses, taking another sip of the brandy. He shifts into a more relaxed demeanor, slightly less formal.
"Not sure there is much to tell about myself." He softly clears his throat.
"As a lad, I attended boarding school. Got a formal education. Joined the military when I was old enough, managed to get into the Exploratory Services. I've enjoyed the opportunities it has given me to travel." He gestures with his hands as he speaks.
"Although the service has sent me to many lands, this is my first visit to Ustalav. Much of my career so far as been in Osirion territory." Sort of nice to be out of the desert heat, although a few bright, sunny days wouldn't be unwelcome.
He looks towards Vara as he states "Got a bit of a reputation among the lads in the service for my knowledge of some of the stranger creatures out there." He makes a bit of a stabbing gesture with one hand, suggesting his interest in such creatures isn't purely academic. "Nightmares is a good way to describe them."
Turning to smile at Kendra, he adds "Professor Lorrimir deserves much of the credit for this. He provided me with details of such creature's bizarre anatomy."
Kendra opens her mouth to speak, only to stop as the cuckoo clock begins to chirp again and, simultaneously, the bell outside the door rings.
"Well, Councilman Hearthmount did say he'd be here at precisely three." Kendra offers a half-hearted laugh and then stands, quickly moving toward the door.
As she opens it, a portly man with a triple chin and a far-too-well-trimmed mustache steps inside. He immediately looks down his nose at Kendra's breeches and jacket, coughs slightly, and then glances at the assembled party down his nose, which raises slightly and then wrinkles in displeasure.
"On behalf of the council, I am sorry for your loss." The councilman produces a scroll case from under his flabby arm, Holding it ostentatiously in front of him. "The seal is Petros Lorrimir's personal seal, and is unbroken." He cracks the seal and begins to read, quickly, efficiently, and without so much as a bit of emotion.
“I, Petros Lorrimor, being of sound mind, do hereby commit to this parchment my last will and testament. Let it be known that, with the exception of the specific details below, I leave my home and personal belongings entire to my daughter Kendra. Use them or sell them as you see fit, my child.
“Yet beyond the bequeathing of my personal effects, this document must serve other needs. I have arranged for the reading of this document to be delayed until all principals can be in attendance, for I have more than mere inheritance to apportion. I have two final favors to ask.
“To my old friends, I hate to impose upon you all, but there are few others who are capable of appreciating the true significance of what it is I have to ask. As some of you know, I have devoted many of my studies to all manner of evil, that I might know the enemy and inform those better positioned to stand against it. For knowledge of one’s enemy is the surest path to victory over its plans.
“And so, over the course of my lifetime, I have seen fit to acquire a significant collection of valuable but dangerous tomes, any one of which in the wrong circumstances could have led to an awkward legal situation. While the majority of these tomes remain safe under lock and key at the Lepidstadt University, I fear that a few I have borrowed remain in a trunk in my Ravengro home. While invaluable for my work in life, in death, I would prefer not to burden my daughter with the darker side of my profession, or worse still, the danger of possessing these tomes herself. As such, I am entrusting my chest of tomes to you, posthumously. I ask that you please deliver the collection to my colleagues at the University of Lepidstadt, who will put them to good use for the betterment of the cause.
“Yet before you leave for Lepidstadt, there is the matter of another favor—please delay your journey one month and spend that period of time here in Ravengro to ensure that my daughter is safe and sound. She has no one to count on now that I am gone, and if you would aid her in setting things in order for whatever she desires over the course of this month, you would have my eternal gratitude. From my savings, I have also willed to each of you a sum of one hundred platinum coins. For safekeeping, I have left these funds with Embreth Daramid, one of my most trusted friends in Lepidstadt—she has been instructed to issue this payment upon the safe delivery of the borrowed tomes no sooner than one month after the date of the reading of this will.
“I, Petros Lorrimor, hereby sign this will in Ravengro on this first day of Calistril, in the year 4710 AR.”
With the will read, the man nods once to Kendra and again to the party, then sets it and the scroll case on an end-table near Kendra's chair and leaves. She simply sits, silent and contemplative, or perhaps just trying to hold back fresh tears.
"Desna, I'm rather out of my depth here. I deal with monsters, not people. This is more of the purview of a Priest of Abadar, with their lawyerish ways, then a guardian of the boundaries." She muses, then gives a helpless shrug of her shoulders. She could only hope that her goddess had other reasons in mind when she had sent her here. "Sorry Kendra, I wish I could be of more assistance. Unfortunately, the only advice I can give is....to make a list of the things you'd like us to help you with for the course of the month, and show us that chest Father was writing in his will about. Also, do you have a trusted solicitor that you would like us to help you contact in settling any estate affairs?"
She asks the rest of the party,"Or for that matter, do any of you have any training in that department to serve as Kendra's solicitor?"
Davi picks up her brandy glass, swirls the liquid once and then downs it. ”I know a handful of Ustalavian law and it’s all contract rigmarole. I can tell you that a Will isn’t a legally binding contract, something I think we all knew already, but I’ll still take credit for having said something helpful.”
”Kendra, we’re here at your disposal for the next month. Take some time to think about what you need help with the most. This isn’t something we’re going to get settled tomorrow afternoon.”
"No, I did not. What could cause a will to fail? Also, what are the steps for a will to be properly done, so the property is transferred to its beneficiaries?"
"Punctual, that is a good quality."
"The fellow doesn't seem much for small talk."
Scratching his head, the colonel says "I suspect the laws here are somewhat different than Taldan military laws. Still, the will seemed pretty clear and had what looked like an official seal on it.
I don't see any problems."
He then looks towards Kendra, saying "You will need to decide if this is the place you want to live. I will gladly help with anything you may need."
Looking to the rest of the group, he says "We will want to decide if those manuscripts are something we should look at ourselves. No question we take them to Lepidstadt University once Miss Kendra is settled."
"The professor said the manuscripts could be dangerous. I prefer to know a danger. Forewarned and all that."
”What? No, no, I said that wrong, it is a binding contract but it’s an...uh….oh, it’s a one way contract. Or is it a one sided contract...see, this is why I’m not inheriting the family business, I always bung this stuff up.”
Davi clears her throat. ”The house and all of the professor’s possesions belong to Kendra, that part is legal and binding. When I said it’s not a contract, I meant the part involving us. We aren’t legally bound to return the books or to help Kendra or even wait a month to return said books, although I will throat punch anyone who tries that stunt” She smiles at the party with just a smidge of malice in her grin.
”Moving on, the will asks us to help Kendra settle in but it doesn’t grant us the legal authority to act on her behalf. Kendra, if you want us to help with your father’s estate we should come up with a basic contract authorizing us to take actions on your behalf. We can give it to Fancy
Council Mustache Man.”
"Now, for the books themselves. Kendra, do you have any clue what they could be about? I have this vision of opening that chest and having a book leap out and try to eat my face off."
"I don't understand. How can one part of the contract be biniding and the other part not? Shouldn't it be all binding or all not binding?" Vara asks, with a puzzled expression on her face.
As she explains the part about not being given legal authority to act on Kendra's behalf, the confusion on her face clears. "I see, it couldn't be binding because we were not given authority to act on her behalf, so it would be unfair to bind us to something we had no power to carry out, no?"
"I take it the will will settle itself, without further intervention on our part? Oh, and I like your nickname for Fancy Mustache Man," giving a small chuckle.
She turns to face the rest."I'm torn about those books. Father never gave us express permission to read those books. I would never want to do anything that would be against his will." Her face takes on a dark expression, "Here I was thinking if we should have had the chest and books checked for traps, hidden monsters, otherworldy beings, and wondering if I was being overly paranoid."
She pauses to think for a while."I think we should check the chest and its contents, as one month is a lot of time for nasty surprises to pop out, but as to whether we should read those books, I'm still of two minds about it."
She gives a sigh."And we still need to deal with those unfriendly townsfolk out there, who's to say they won't be waylaying us the next time we set forth into town."
Gosk bows politely at the Councillor as he introduces the will. Is that so... I can see no better things to do in my future than to take care of all the knowledge the professor has stored.
He leans back on the chair, twirling the drink in his hand. "I could probably help with that." He stands up. "I suppose now is as good time as any to bring it up." The tall man's gaze turns towards Kendra. "One of the fields of study that I... excelled at with the immense aid of your father was that of necromancy."
He waits, then raises a hand before anyone else speaks up. "I'm no wizard, or a practitioner of the arts by any means, simply a scholar. Necromancy in itself is a type, a school of magic no different than that of evocation, illusion, or abjuration. Indeed, the act of raising the dead itself is something that could only be described as 'evil', but to call all necromancers lords of the undead is... misleading." He smiles. "A comparison a friend of mine used to make is, 'It's the same as calling every weapon an axe.' I have no doubt that some of the books would have information that would be, at best, harmful to Petros' reputation, and at worst, tools to raise and command those who are long at rest."
He sits down, taking a long sip. He grins. "Well that sounded needlessly dry. I do start sounding philosophical when I talk about important and scholarly matters in Taldane. Much of it the Professor's fault, I'm afraid." Another warm smile is sent in Kendra's direction. "So, the jist of it is, it'd be a duty to aid in the safe return of the books, even if I wasn't being told to. And since we've all agreed," He gestures theatrically at Davi, "that we're going to be throat punched if we ignore our duties, you can count me in."
Father was barely laid to rest and they were more interested in his book collection then helping his daughter settle her affairs? Some great students they were. They'd deserve some sharp words, no doubt.
Vara glares at Gosk, while attempting to nudge him with her elbow. "Show some respect, for goodness sake. What accusations were the townsfolk levying? Use your head, boy." She gingerly rubs her bruised elbow after it encounters Gosk's armor.
"Let's get things clearly here. Our duty, first and foremost, is to make sure Kendra is nicely settled in. After that, IF we have free time, then YOU can turn yourselves into bookworms," she snaps at Gosk and Colonel Tipper.
"We can check if the chest and its contents are dangerous tonight, then tomorrow we can help Kendra with the affairs of the estate. Would help if any of us could think of a way to get the townsfolk less antagonistic."
"Professor Lorrimir had a last request, and I will do my utmost to fulfill it. My Honor demands it, That is binding."
"Let's get things clearly here. Our duty, first and foremost, is to make sure Kendra is nicely settled in. After that, IF we have free time, then YOU can turn yourselves into bookworms," she snaps at Gosk and Colonel Tipper."We can check if the chest and its contents are dangerous tonight, then tomorrow we can help Kendra with the affairs of the estate. Would help if any of us could think of a way to get the townsfolk less antagonistic."
Hold your temper. She is obviously upset, and somewhat justifiably so given Gosk's rather blunt statements. Just ignore the insult this once.
"Milady, I had asked if we would look at them and gave my own preference. I want us in agreement before anyone looks at them, and am certainly in no rush to do so."
Kendra pulls her leg under her, sitting in her armchair with her arms around her knees, and listens as the party discusses her future. As the conversation spins in circles, she clears her throat, then stands. ”I don’t think I can make any decisions tonight. Why don’t we take a look at Father’s forbidden books, though? I’ll just be right back with the chest, it’s in his...my bedchamber, so you’ll forgive me if I leave you here for a few minutes?” Without waiting for a reply, she stands and hurries away, shutting the door behind her.
The next few minutes are mostly silent, with the exception of a few bumps as things fall onto the hardwood floor and, once, the sound of breaking glass, followed by quite unladylike cursing. ”Oh, gods damn it! That was bloody expensive!”
When she returns, Kendra is carrying an old iron-bound oak chest. Her face is flushed, either from effort or embarrassment, and she sets the chest in the middle of the room before scooping up the key from the floor. After fumbling it a few times, she looks helplessly at the party, holding it out to them. ”I’m afraid I’m much too nervous for this. Could one of you do the honors instead?”
A relatively new-looking tome, thin and small, seemingly designed to be fit into one’s coat-pocket. Scratched into the cover is a message: Read this first
A purple-covered book, with a brass scarab set into the cover. A single eye stares from the insect’s back. It’s titled Manual of the Order of the Palatine Eye, and bears a note: Deliver to Embreth Daramid in Lepidstadt.
A jet-black tome, On Verified Madness, with a note: Deliver to Montagnie Cowl, Lepidstadt University
Serving Your Hunger, a grey book with a few ominous brown stains on its cover and a similar note to deliver it to Professor Cowl.
The Umbral Leaves, another ominously-black book, this one is trimmed with steel plates riveted to its cover. Also to be delivered to Cowl.
"Good. And I'm no one's lady. Vara will do," at Colonel Tipper's assurances.
She takes note of Colonel Tipper's reaction, but doesn't comment on it.
When the old chest is taken out, she motions everyone to stand back.
"I'll be running some checks on the chest, you might want to step back some, in case I trigger something. Also, this might take a while," then takes the key from Kendra.
She chants a few words then begins to take in information fed in by her spell.
Vara opens the chest. She scans the books with her magical senses.
After all the books have been checked out clean, Vara turns to the party. "All clear," then returns the books to the chest. She turns to Kendra, "About the mess in your room, could I help you with it? If anything is broken, I can prepare a small blessing to fix it tomorrow morning, provided all the pieces are still there."
Despite his mistresses's admonitions to stay away from the box, Mr Chompy stands by his mistresses's side, ready to defend her from anything that might pop out of the box.
Sometime before they retire for the night, Vara will ask Davi to come along, and knock on Colonel Tipper's door, and have them all go to Gosk's room.
Once in Gosks's room...
"Look, I don't care what you think about necromancy, but I don't want any of you to mention it in front of Kendra. She's got enough to deal with as it is, and it'd hurt her more to think that there's some truth in what the townsfolk said,"as she gives Gosk a nasty glare.
"Now, if you do want to speak of it, do it when she isn't around to hear. I've been fighting undead for the better part of my life, and I know somewhat in dealing with those things. Nothing's taboo to me, because there ain't much room for niceties when you're trying to keep a ghoul from ripping your head off,"she addresses the party bluntly.
"For one, I can tell you that that scythe you carry out there may work fine against some undead, but not all of em. Dem bones, as the folks down here call it, or for the more educated of us, skeletons, are vulnerable to blunt weapons. A quarterstaff will serve better then that," as she points at Gosk's scythe.
"Good. And I'm no one's lady. Vara will do,"
The colonel merely nods in response. You may be no lady, but I am a gentleman. You'll figure that out in time.
Vara turns to the party. "All clear," then returns the books to the chest. She turns to Kendra, "About the mess in your room, could I help you with it? If anything is broken, I can prepare a small blessing to fix it tomorrow morning, provided all the pieces are still there."
The colonel approaches the chest and looks in it.
He pulls out a single thin, pocket-sized volume and looks at the cover. He then shows the cover to the rest of the room, so they can clearly see where Read this first is scratched into it.
"Seems this would be the place to start. The others have delivery instructions on them."
"If no one objects, I'll start reading." He waits for a response.
"Come on, Mr Chompy, we've got work to do." She beckons to Mr Chompy and follows Kendra to her bedroom to clean up the mess.
"Be my guest," she comments, then goes back to lounge on the couch. Her eyes take a distant cast, as if she is lost in her own thoughts. Father putting "Read this first" was certainly ambiguous. Who was that book addressed to? Us, or his colleagues in the University? Did he mean for us to read the book or not?
Colonel Tipper begins reading, and quickly finds that almost all the entries are both bland and repetitive diary entries. He does find the professor's recollection of his meetings with each of the party-members, and, more importantly, finds six entries circled in red ink.
Ten Years Ago: The Whispering Way is more than just a cabal of necromancers. I see that now. Undeath is their fountain of youth. Uncovering their motivation does not place me at ease as I thought it might. Their desire to be eternal simply makes them more dangerous.
Two Months Ago: It is as I had feared. The Way is interested in something here in Ravengro. But what could it be?
One Month Ago: Whatever the Way seeks, I am now convinced their goal is connected to Harrowstone. In retrospect, I suppose it all makes sense—the stories they tell about the ruins in town are certainly chilling enough. It may be time to investigate the ruins, but with everyone in town already being so worked up about them, I’d rather not let the others know about my curiosity—there’s plenty of folks hereabouts who already think I’m a demonologist or a witch or something. Ignorant fools.
Twenty Days Ago: It is confirmed. The Way seems quite interested in something—no, strike that—someone who was held in Harrowstone. But who, specifically, is the Way after? I need a list of everyone who died the night of the fire. Everyone. The Temple of Pharasma must have such a list.
Eighteen Days Ago: I see now just how ill prepared I was when I last set out for the Harrowstone. I am lucky to have returned at all. 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 that the church of Pharasma used to store them in a false crypt in the Restlands at the intersection between Eversleep and the Black Path. I am not certain if the current clergy even know of what their predecessors have hidden down below. If my luck holds, I should be able to slip in and out with a few borrowed items.
Seventeen Days Ago: Tomorrow evening I return to the prison. It is imperative the Way does not finish. My caution has already cost me too much time. I am not sure what will happen if I am too late, but if my theory is right, the entire town could be at risk. I don’t have time to update my will, so I’ll leave this in the chest where it’ll be sure to be found, should the worst come to pass.
When Tipper's done with his reading of the professor's journal, there's a moment of silence, broken by Kendra's loud, thundering snore. After a moment or two, she snaps back awake, blinking and jerking upright in her chair. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day. I don't mean to be a spoilsport, but perhaps your investigations into whatever Father meant by all this could wait until tomorrow? I have four rooms set up for guests upstairs. I'll take you to them and then bid you good-night." She pads over to a candle, lights it, and then leads the way upstairs.
The rooms are all small, no more than a bed, wardrobe, and desk with a chair, but they surround a comfortable-feeling central area with a few padded chairs and a fireplace. Kendra apologizes for the tightness of the quarters, then smiles. "Feel free to make yourselves at home up here. And, Vara, you don't need to help me. It was only a mirror, nothing important. I've already taken care of it. Goodnight, sleep tight, and don't let the bedbugs bite! Or worse..."] She abandons the upstairs to the party, and after a few moments of humming, her snores can be once again heard from below, although the distance makes them much less disturbing.
The colonel is somewhat relieved when Kendra starts dozing off while he is going through the journal. Given that the professor really didn't want her involved in this, I don't mind if she misses some of the details here. He puts special effort into delivering some of the more dangerous hints in as bland and boring a tone as he can. Worst case, I'll have to go over it again in private with some of the others.
---
"That would be fine, Miss Kendra. It was a long trip and I'm sure we all could use a rest. Sorry if we kept you up!"
The colonel waits in the hallway as she goes back downstairs.
Vara snaps to attention at Colonel Tipper's first mention of necromancers. Her mouth forms a silent, "Oh sh~t," but she remains silent, not wanting to startle Kendra. She gives Colonel Tipper a silent thumbs up sign as he reads the dangerous hints in as bland and boring as a tone he can. When he reads about the part where the Professor nearly fell victim to the ghosts, she forms a silent and anguished, "Why? Why didn't you wait?", before giving a resigned sigh.
---
"Thanks Kendra, you should turn in too, its been a long day for you. if you need any help, just ask."
Vara joins the Colonel in the hallway, "We need to talk, and I owe you an apology."
The Nexian leans on the wall, raising his hands in the air, indicating peace. "I thought about that, and I was being a bit... undiplomatic. Though, I wouldn't insult Kendra's intelligence by suggesting she hasn't had any suspicions in what areas the professor was studying. Not that there is anything wrong with said knowledge." He sighs again, offering a smile. "Though, I admit, I may need to work on my timing." He then notions to the heavy gauntlets sitting on the table. "Ah! You refer to the 'hit them with a stick' undead fighting method. Truthfully, two long-hilted weapons is a bit much, and you'd be surprised how effective an armoured fist is for breaking bones, on the living and the dead alike." In a more-lighthearted tone, he continues. "There may be a villager or two that learned that today. Doesn't violence just bring people together..."
Gosk listens attentively to the journal, rubbing his chin. A necromancer cabal... Just as I thought things were getting interesting. As Kendra wakes up, he smiles. "Endless nights of reading old books, while tempting, is not too great for one's health. I agree on leaving it for tomorrow.", before nodding at the colonel and Vara.
Once in the corridor, he looks around before beginning to voice his suspicions. "I suppose that that answers some things. The real question is, whether someone aided the Professor into passing into the afterlife." He stops and gestures for the others to enter his room. "I feel that we should make Kendra aware of the stuff her father was into. Were I in her spot, I'd prefer to know." He raises a prepared hand. "However, I don't think that today or tomorrow is the day. I suggest we do that after we return from Ravengro tomorrow. I'd recommend we go and see what is there to see in town, then re-visit the Pharasmin cleric... Can't recall the man's name, but the man surely was... respectable. Maybe he would know more about the cult Petros was investigating." He sighs. "And, I don't know what they may be doing, but it seems like he was in a hurry more than two weeks ago. We may need to look into this before we leave to deliver the books."
"I am sorry that in my pride I thought I knew what was best, nearly blinding us all to the rising threat," she apologies to Colonel Tipper.
"Damn, the possibility that someone arranged Father's death never occurred to me. I thought it was an accident..." as she chokes off a sob. She wipes her tears away."But the Whispering Way certainly has plenty of incentive to do so," with a hint of barely suppressed rage in her voice.
She takes a deep breath."About Kendra...Father didn't want her involved in any of this. Perhaps if she has other living relatives outside Ravengro, we can send her off to them so that she will be safe there.."her voice trails off. "You guys can help her settle down...and return the chest to the Lepidstadt University. I will return to Harrowstone and continue Father's quest," with a steely note of determination in her voice.
"If Kendra wishes to stay, then maybe we should tell her that a group of necromancers are planning something bad on Ravengro, and she should leave Ravengro for her safety, and send her to a safe refuge if any of you know any?" she asks the group.
"My profession has trained me to look for the worst possible outcome and start planning from there." She gives a sigh."So here goes.."
"The worst possible outcome is if Kendra chooses to stay despite the danger. In such a situation, we will need to deal with the Whispering Way together. We will need to gather more information about the Whispering Way, and more about their motives and plans," she informs the party.
"On asking Father Grimburrow, I'm not sure if he would be helpful. The townsfolk are a dour, sour and unhelpful lot. I fail to see that the Pharasmin cleric would be much better, considering he said Father was odd," and pauses a while before continuing. "What we would need, would be a good cover story to snoop around..."
"Harrowstone....a place where people are held...could Harrowstone be a prison?"she muses to herself. "We need the list of people who died in the fire...when was the fire?" as she taps a finger on the table, lost in thought.
She rests her chin on her hand. "If we knew when the fire was, one of us could pose as kin of one of the deceased that died in the fire...perhaps that we intended to dig up the remains so as to inter them in the family crypt?" she muses out loud. "That would give us a legitimate reason to be in Harrowstone without being chased out."
"After we have done our research on the Whispering Way, Harrowstone, and obtained the list of people who died in Harrowstone from the Church of Pharasma, then we raid the Pharasmin supplies, and set forth for Harrowstone. Does that sound like a plan?" she asks the party.