"Intriguing." Asenath leans forward to peer inside.
After several seconds of divination, you can recognize faint magical signatures in 17 of the arrows, and all of the scrolls and potions. Sensing magic within the darkwood case, you open it to reveal a board with numbers and letters on it that shows a moderate divination aura, and four glass and iron vials that show a faint necromantic aura. The vials contain tiny, swirling clouds of vapor.
Asenath starts examining the items, especially the board with numbers and letters on it.
Zazaria joins Asenath and begins scrutinising the contents of the sarcophagus.
A spirit planchette is typically found in a wooden case along with a thin wooden board printed with numerous letters and
numbers. Nonmagical versions of these divination tools can be purchased in curiosity shops (typically costing 25 gp); while these items can be used as alternative components
for augury spells, only magical spirit planchettes allow users to communicate with the other side. Three types of spirit planchettes exist—brass, cold iron, and silver. Each in turn allows an increasingly potent form of divination e ect to be utilized. A spirit planchette requires a board to move upon, but this “board” can be made up of letters scribed upon any smooth surface—it need not be a prepared board for a spirit planchette to work.To use a spirit planchette, you must rest your fingers lightly upon the planchette’s surface and then concentrate
on the planchette (as if maintaining a spell with a duration of concentration) for 2d6 rounds while the planchette attunes itself to the ambient spirits of the area. A er this time, the planchette begins to slowly slide in random patterns across the board—at this point, questions may be asked of the spirits by any of the individuals involved in the séance. The consequences of each question asked of the spirits depends upon what type of planchette is used for the divination, as summarized below. The spirits reply in a language understood by the character who asked the question, but resent such contact and give only brief answers to the questions. All questions are answered with “yes,” “no,” or “maybe,” or by spelling out a single word from the letters arranged on the board. The spirits answer each question either in the same round the question is asked (in the case of a yes, no, or maybe answer) or at a rate of one letter per round (in the case of a single word being spelled out). A spirit planchette may be used once per day—the maximum number of questions you can ask with it depends on the type of planchette being used.
Iron vials with necromantic aura:
Arrows
Scrolls
Green potions
Yellow potions
Arrows - 10 ea +1 arrows, 5ea +1 ghost touch, 2ea +1 undead bane
Scrolls - unsuccessful
Green potions - 5ea potions of CLW
Yellow potions - unsuccessful
Zazaria shares her discoveries with the others and points out the items that have exceeded her knowledge. Perhaps your knowledge goes deeper than mine, Asenath.
Asenath nods, "I cannot promise that it does Zazaria," she looks over the items before looking up with an annoyed look on her face, "If you lot can keep it down, I am trying to concentrate!" She stares at a point just outside the mausoleum's threshold, then returns her attention to the items.
Iron vials with necromantic aura:
Arrows:
Scrolls:
Green potions:
Yellow potions:
If it deals enough damage to the haunt to reduce the haunt’s hit points to 0, the mist inside the haunt siphon glows green—if it does not reduce the haunt to 0 hit points, the haunt siphon is still expended and becomes nonmagical. It may take multiple haunt siphons to destroy powerful haunts. A haunt that is neutralized by a haunt siphon takes a –5 penalty on its caster level check to manifest again after its reset time passes. A haunt siphon that neutralizes a haunt can no longer be used to harm haunts, but it can be used as a grenade like splash weapon that deals 1d6 points of negative energy damage with a direct hit. Every creature within 5 feet of the point where the haunt siphon hits takes 1 point of negative energy damage from the splash
Well, we have what we came for - even if I'm not quite sure what to make of it all. Perhaps Kendra can help. Where next, back to your researches, Asenath? Perhaps we can try and find out more about Harrowstone.
Asenath turns to look at Zazaria absently, as if her mind had been far away from the musty interior of the mausoleum. "I agree," she smiles, her pointed canines white against her full red lips, "We should return to the house and peruse the contents of the professor's library."
The trip back to the professor's house takes you back past the many farms of the small town, still under the light of day. Some folks are out, and level stares at you that make you feel in no uncertain terms like an outsider. Though you concealed evidence of your being there, you can't help but feel as if the locals of Ravengro can see into your soul, and know that you just took items from a sarcophagus of one of their own...however false that sarcophagus may be.
Leeoli stood wearily before his friend's door.
It was on that solstice that I first met Prof. Lorrimor...so many years ago. The undead had been in hunt and he and his cousin Darin had been laying in ambush for a group of three zombies at the side of a moonlit clearing. We has felt the undead drawing nearer, when the Professor had suddenly appeared, striding down the path traversing the clearing. This had been most unexpected, and we were forced to forgoe our trap early, else let this man stumble unprepared into the undead. Darin was always quicker than I, and flew towards the man wielding a dagger in his right hand and a short blade in his left. The professor had looked up then, just then realizing he wasn't alone...but it wasn't Darin he had sensed. Two animated corpses had exited the wood a few strides ahead. The man I'd later come to know as the Professor, stopped, frozen. Genuinely surprised, it had seemed, to be taken from a deep thought or two. I had given a yell then to attract attention, and then darted in myself. Darin sliced the first, and stabbed the second in two effortless lightning-like strikes. As these fell, two vials appeared in his hand, which were broken on the corpses bursting into alchemical glow as the flames ate away at the corpses.
Darin had then stood straight, allowing himself a grunt of satisfaction...
but Darin had forgotten: We had seen three undead.
Darin's head burst.
Out of the shadows had drawn a hulking form of putrid mess. This one was not like the other two. Screaming mouths and tongues had decorated rotten appendages, glowing under purple iridescence...
My rapier bit into its flesh, but before I realized it, it had reached out a fleshy appendage and my blade snapped. His appendages hissed as the burning orafaces had begun to melt my broken blad.
I cannot take this one.
The professor had finally reacted, and we broke towards raced the center of the clearing. Motioning to the man to come near me, I had reached down into the low grasses...Plan B. As the monstrosity had come at us, I pulled the hidden rope, revealing the trap Darin had prepared earlier. The thing fell into a pit with a heavy drumphhh, and I had breathed...the pit was deep...But I had then heard scrambling sounds, and impossibly, the hulk had been clambering up the wall of the pit.at us..I had then felt fear as I had never felt.
"Horses?" The professor's nuanced voice had then broken through my frozen conscious. "Yes. This way," I had said. Casting a last look at my slain cousin,and we ran.
The professor credited us for saving his life, and would not accept the truth. They had been after the Maleyes.
Kendra. I am Leeoli of the Maleye family. The Professor was my friend and I will miss him very much. I am sorry ofr your loss.
sighing
I came as soon as I could, but I had been trading with partners for alchemical supplies on behalf of my father when the letter had arrived.
May I come in? I am travel weary and heavy hearted..
dotted
I'm sorry that you missed the service, but I certainly understand your obligations. And, in the end, we all say goodbye in our own ways. A pause...she fingers the hem of her dress with a faraway look. Snapping back to the present, she leads you in through a small vestibule and past rooms and hallways decorated with nearly endless rows of books. The Professor was, of course, a professor...and his love of all books - the stranger the better, was well known.
Kendra guides you into a comfortable looking study with cushioned chairs and even more books. Please, make yourself comfortable. May I make some tea?
You close the sarcophagus back up the way it had been and make your way back out of the Restlands. Before you can leave the graveyard though, you see two young acolytes that you recognize from the Temple of Pharasma. Though you try to slip back the way you'd come, they see Asenath, who lags behind the group.
Hey! What are you doing here? They rush up to confront you, their expressions accusatory.
Zazaria turns back, to see the acolytes rushing towards Asenath. O Pharasma she grumbles inwardly. Does nothing go well in this ill-fated town? .
Although she strides back to join the Dhampir, she waits to see what Asenath will do.. Pharasma has thrown us together for some reason, so I will trust this one, for now. Mother of Graves, let it not be something foolish.
Leeoli nods a thanks and steps in. Tea would be nice.
The professor had such a nice collection of books! The scholar in Leeoli was in a state of admiration.My friend collected such a library!! Are you a scholar yourself?
Kendra smiles sadly and looks about the study with a faraway look. My father was never happy if he wasn't learning something new. Not a day went by that he didn't convey to me some new fact he had found or some new myth he wanted to explore.. She pauses in reflection, then shakes herself back to the present and smooths the front of her dress - perhaps an nervous gesture.
Tea, of course.. She returns a few moments later with a steaming pot, cups, leaves, and a small jar of honey. I'm a bit of a scholar, perhaps - my father's influence was hard to avoid. I do some work as a diviner, historian, and provider of basic services in the arcane as well. In Lepistat, my services were fairly well sought after, but in a town such as Ravengro...well, let's just say that they're a superstitious lot, and leave it at that.
And what of you, Mister Malleye; what calls you to duty each day?
I never understood fully why your father did not choose a more learned setting for his studies. As for myself. Years ago I met your father under dire circumstances. To my protests, he claims I saved his life that day, but in truth it was my family's name that had inadvertently put him in danger that night. But that was long ago.
Leeoli paused and studied Kendra for a second.
I am sure you are accustomed to didactic and esoteric conversations many others might find incomprehensible, or at least eye-glazing. I too am a sort of scholar, in training still, true, of the Maleye curriculum. An investigator in training of natural law, with an emphasis on experimental manipulation and inference. By natural law, I mean the fundamental forces that guide and limit all actions, of rocks, arrows, mortals and even magic, and the gods. For I believe that we are all subject to the same natural laws...but enough of that.[b]
Leeoli takes a drink of the warm aromatic tea.
[b]I will miss you father indeed, and later I will visit his graveside to pay respects and to say goodbye, but first, I missed the reading of the will..your father often spoke of troublesome times and dark powers, and I worry what I may find therein. May I read it now?
Also I will need to see to my horse and mule. I pressed the poor beasts a bit hard to get here before dark
Kendra looks surprised, and she sets her tea down in interest. Natural and fundamental forces indeed...then much of what my father found in his studies was perhaps contradictory to your every belief. But, if you knew my father at all, you'd understand that his examination was from both sides - he wanted to understand it all - life and unlife, good and evil. I believe it was his search for such truth that led to his....
She smooths away moisture from her eyes, and nods. Of course, I'm sorry Mr Maleye...for my manners. We have a small stable out back; it's not much but we often use wagons and the drivers sometimes stay overnight. I trust you'll find it adequate.
She leaves the room and returns with the professor's will; and with a book that she explains is the professor's diary.
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
Kendra points to a passage. The tools that my father mentions in the Restlands; the others have gone to find those.
I'm sure the stable will be better than theyve seen for weeks. Thank you.
Leeoli looks at the passages in the diary.Others? Have they been gone long?
Kendra shakes her head as she blows on her still steaming tea. Not long, no...but I fear anything surrounding this Whispering Way and my father's notes. It seems that these people could be dangerous.
You know little of the Restlands, save for the fact that it’s the name given to the local graveyard here in Ravengro, and is where the professor is now buried.
About the Harrowstone prison, now that you know more than a little.
Harrowstone is a ruined prison – 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 prisoners had rioted and gained control of the prison’s dungeons immediately prior to the conflagration. It was only through the self-sacrifice 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
Upon a knock on the front door, Kendra sets her tea down. Please, Mister Maleye, make yourself at home here; my father would have wanted that. I'll be back in a moment.
The front door opens just slightly, as if the resident feared whatever new surprise a traveler could bear. Upon glancing out, however, Kendra opens the door fully and the light of recognition dawns upon her pretty face. Vrilli?
Asenath, thinking quickly, feigns incredulity at being confronted in such a manner. She stammers as if angry. Why, I'd prefer not to be accosted in such a manner, particularly when I'm still grieving over the loss of my dear friend! We've come here to pay final respects to a great man, and you act like we're criminals! Now, please, I want to get back to comfort Miss Lorrimor, who certainly is in a time of need.
That is so Zazaria nods her head and gives the two acolytes a gentle, almost motherly smile. I know not how it is done here in Ravengro but in all my years as a Cleric of Pharasma, I've not seen the grieving accosted so. Why should mourners not bid farewell to a dear friend gone now to Her judgement?
Please, call me Leeoli
Leeoli stands up too, and moves to inspect the newcomer.
the dead dont knock
Vrilli enters the room, shaking the dust from his cloak.
Appearance: Vrilli is a tall (6’2”) and slender Elf, with blond hair and green eyes. He wears dark leather clothing that is well made, but plain. He carries a bow and wears a long-sword. He carries a kit with a collection of books, parchments, which are meticulously stowed.
Impressions: Vrilli appears cold, haughty, and somewhat aloof in demeanour. He is lacking in social niceties, and is usually somewhat formal in his conversations with others. He appears to have no ability to make small talk, and appears he can appear awkward is his interactions. Those familiar with Elves may note that he is not very 'elf like' in his speech, mannerisms, and in the type of equipment he carries.
Vrilli looks briefly past Kendra and notes the others in the room. He does not introduce himself, but speaks directly to Kendra:
Greetings Kendra, I received your letter. I had some important matters to attend to, but I am here now. Professor Lorrimor borrowed two important tomes from me, that I know he would have wanted me to have back. I have the the titles written down for you when you have a moment Vrilli produces a small piece of parchement which he passes to Kendra. ... and I am sorry for your loss. Professor Lorrimor was ... helpful to me in several ways Vrilli looks over Kendra's shoulder and glimpses quickly at the strangers(?) in the room.
The two acolytes eye Asenath with open suspicion, obviously not believing her claims. They eye Zazaria, Gerion, and Crag with equal suspicion. Our ways aren't in question, lady; it's outsiders that don't want to adhere to our rules that are the problem. You must be on your way; the Father will hear of this.
With that, they continue on their path, giving the group some venomous backwards glances.
Kendra nods in acquiescence, showing a smile. Of course, Leeoli.
Kendra nods at Vrilli, accepting of his nature, if not openly warm. It's obvious that the two had met before. Of course; I will search for these as soon as I can. Please come in Vrilli; this is Mister Leeoli Maleye, also a friend of my father's. I fear there's more to your invitation than just the times, however.
She leads you into a vestibule, then further into the house proper. A large manor, the house is well cared for and clean, though the books lining every shelf and sitting in piles in some corners give it a cluttered look. Kendra leads you into a study, where a porcelain tea kettle still steams on an end table among several comfortable looking chairs. She sits and motions for you to do the same.
It is somewhat re assuring that I am not the only late arrival. I am Leeoli of the Maleye's. Any friend of the professor is a good candidate to be a friend of mine
Come on Zazaria snarls, her patience clearly coming to an end. Let's just get back to Kendra. I'll talk to Grimburrow later if I have to.
And off she stalks, shoulders rigid and fingers half-clenched.
Good afternoon Mr Maleye. I had expected there would be more people here. Professor Lorrimor has... had many acquaintances and colleagues
Indeed. He was a well traveled and well like man. I will sorely miss him. This is in fact the first time I've been to this place, but he had often visited the Maleye Wandering Library--perhaps the Professor mentioned such to you?
Well, in any case, I'm sure you will find this of interest.
Leeoli hands to Vrilli the Professor's diary:
diary circled excerpts:
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
Leeoli points to a passage. The tools that the professor mentions are in the Restlands; the others that came before us have gone to find those.
It would be good to know what he was doing before he died Vrilli takes the diary, nods at Leeoli, and finds himself a spot to sit down and read the diary. He looks up at Leeoli How long have they been searching and how many were they?
The sound of further rapping comes from the door: something in the curt knocks suggests that the one knocking is belabouring an imaginary opponent.
Kendra says not.long, but beyond that I yet know little
Perhaps they are back Vrilli looks at the door, then goes back to reading the diary.
Kendra answers the door, and relief is evident on her face. She ushers the group in, even giving Asenath's hand a reassuring squeeze. She leads everyone into the study, which is now tight and cozy with the added occupants. I'm sure that introductions are in order; I'll bring more tea.
Zazaria's rather grumpy features ease as she takes in the new arrivals, and she shakes her head, as if whisking away some annoying insect.
On my,she murmurs. More friends of Petros, come to bid farewell?
Ibsee that the day has been long. Might we clean up, then reconvene this evening at a public house. We are too many to tax the hospitality of Kendra for our meals, and I admit a good beer would sit well.
Zazaria laughs harshly: After the day we've had? Several beers might not suffice...But I am remiss: my name is Zazaria, Zazaria Rooke.
She gives a slight, and rather self-mocking bow.