GM Umineko's Carrion Crown

Game Master Umineko

Graveyards have long since held the traditional visage of somber sites, where the living go to mourn the dead. While many ascribe superstitions of ghosts haunting the stones, to the dead crawling out of the dirt in which they're buried, all know that such a place waits their mortal bodies upon their passing. Some may find comfort in such a place upon their death, as they can be laid to rest among their long-lost loved ones, perhaps even seeing them as they wait in the long line to see the Lady of Graves for their final judgement. Many more pacify their fears of death with the knowledge that their loved ones in life will see them through to their final resting place, remembering all the greatest moments of their life, while wishing they had the time to form even more.

Such a notion is nearly personified as the six, dear friends of the late Professor Petros Lorrimor approach the small village of Ravengro. Guided by carriage or their own two feet, the feeling of loss and sorrow loom over them, dark clouds covering the morning sky above the small settlement, the gods themselves ready to weep for the loss of a great man. Hardly a soul is milling about the roads, allowing easy navigation to the gates of the Restlands, where the small gathering of people await the arrival of the six final attendees.

A few men and women stand about the closed coffin at the entrance of the open gate, and while most dress the part of common villagers, one woman dressed in a black dress, a black veil covering her face, stands out prominently. Eyes puffed red and cheeks already stained with tears, she greets the six as they arrive at roughly the same time, guided by fate, perhaps. She introduces herself as Kendra Lorrimor, the daughter of Petros. Any questions asked to Kendra are met with a polite wave of her hand, denying any questions at this time, as she just can't find it within herself to converse. She promises that she will find the courage and energy to talk with them all at the reading of her father's last will and testament.

Once each of them have introduced themselves, a portly man dressed fashionably for the occasion approaches. He eyes each of them separately, doing little to hide his suspicion of them, especially in regards to the goblin, even going so far as wincing at the sight of him. Despite this, he introduces himself as Councilman Vashian Hearthmount, the councilor that sent the letters with the unfortunate news to each of them. He says in his most diplomatic manner that he wishes the six of them could come to the town of Ravengro under better circumstances, and that he and everyone else there have lost a great, dear friend. Making a macabre jest that Petros would likely appreciate getting some rest, he motions to the coffin, and asks the six if any would like to have the honor of being a pallbearer and help lead the coffin to the dig site.

On that most dismal day, a lone black coach travels along the empty road leading into Ravengro. The heraldic crest of the Holy City of Kavapesta marks either side of the carriage - three crowned skulls beneath the spiral of Pharasma. Inside, the coach's occupant sits with a heavily creased letter in her lap, reading and rereading its contents by what little light finds its way into the cabin. Despite having the privilege of meeting Professor Lorrimor only once, for the interview after her harrowing ordeal in the Hundred Haunted Vales, the two maintained a written correspondence for some time preceding his passing. Although she was always glad to receive a letter from the Professor, no matter how infrequent they were, part of her feared that the good Professor responded to her letters more out of a sense of decorum or even pity than anything else. After all, he was a scholar of no small renown who spent the days even in the twilight of his life exploring lost ruins and visiting the most remote and far-flung of places to share his knowledge with others - things she had not dared to dream of before she met him - while she was a cloistered young woman, ignorant and unwise of much outside of her life in the Cathedral. Yet write her the Professor did, each letter a cherished gift wherein he would tell her of his latest find or a bit of Ustalav history not commonly known, and, at the end of each, he would encourage her to seek out ways to enrich her life, no matter how small. You cannot live your life for everyone else. You must live it for yourself, he had advised her, not long before his letters stopped altogether. It wasn't until receiving the summons to Professor Lorrimor's funeral that she understood how well he must have regarded her. To learn that this great man requested that she be among those who saw him to his final rest made his passing all the more profound.

"We're coming into Ravengro now, m'Lady."

The rough voice of the driver brings Inessa back from her bittersweet reminiscences. ”Thank you,” she tells the kindly man that has seen her safely through the long journey from Amaans to Canterwall, although she is uncertain if her soft voice carries over the sound of the wheels grinding over loose gravel, for he does not answer back. Neatly folding the letter once more, she places it in the satchel with the few other belongings she's brought with her, exchanging it for her well-worn copy of The Bones Land in a Spiral. The Goddess’ Word had never failed to bring her peace in troubled times past, but now, Inessa finds herself going over the same text repeatedly without grasping meaning, her mind fixed on other matters. Without conscious thought, her hand moves to clutch at the silver holy symbol of Pharasma at her throat, her fingers tracing the blue whirl that represents the soul’s journey back to the Mother. Across from Inessa, a long serpentine neck brings to her eye level a fearsome draconic head wreathed in a crown of thorny spikes. Although his features would be inscrutable to any else, Inessa can easily read the concern that he feels due inasmuch part to the amount of time they spend in each other's company as to the unique bond that they share. A bond through which her companion can sense her mounting anxiety.

”Forgive me, Vizaresh,” she apologizes, shutting the holy text with a sigh. ”I know not why I'm so troubled. I've been a part of countless funerals by now, speaking on behalf of the departed, comforting the families that have been left behind, and yet this one is so different. Death is supposed to be but another stage of life. I know this, and yet knowing it does nothing to lessen the pain I feel now that Professor Lorrimor is gone…” The young woman abruptly breaks off, her willowy form shaking under the sudden, silent sobbing her words bring on. It is some moments before Inessa has the composure to speak once again, and throughout it all her companion sits silently, watching and waiting, ever impassive. After taking a deep breath, she continues, ”I only wish to honor his memory and to be able to give his grieving daughter some comfort for the trying times that lie ahead, but I fear… The Professor's passing has affected me so that I fear I won't find the words to do either.”

With her confession lingering in the silence of the cabin, Inessa can't bring herself to meet the psychopomp’s ancient gaze, feeling foolish for having voiced such a concern to an ages-old being. The coach lurches to a sudden stop, and Inessa can hear the driver step down from the bench and come round to open the door. As she hastily dries her eyes and prepares to disembark, she is overcome with a feeling of warm reassurance that passes through her link with her protector. The sentiment causes her eyes to water anew. After giving Vizaresh a grateful smile, Inessa prepares herself to say goodbye to a great man.

The door to the black coach swings open. Dressed in robes colored in the somber palette of Pharasma's faithful - violet and grey - Inessa steps down from the carriage and looks over the small gathering of the Professor's loved ones. Trailing closely behind her, Vizaresh exits the cabin, the shifting of his bulk causing the carriage to rock and squeak with every step until all four of his crow-like feet are settled on the damp earth. The psychopomp gives an indulgent stretch, unfurling great, tattered wings cloaked in the same deep black feathers that cover the rest of his body. Those who are acquainted with Pharasma's holy text will know the creature as one of the Goddess’ servitors, the grim magistrates that oversee the courts of the Boneyard. “The dragons who eat men's souls,” the more superstitious of the Lady's followers fearfully whisper. Although he is much smaller than the Yamarajs written of in Pharasma's holy book - standing at the shoulder no taller than a boy who has come upon his seventh winter - to the Goddess-fearing, his presence is no less daunting for it.

After a quiet exchange with the driver - who nods deferentially before retaking his seat on the bench and steering the coach back into the village proper - Inessa approaches the veiled woman she assumes to be Professor Lorrimor's​ daughter. ”Miss Lorrimor? My name is Inessa.” As Inessa greets Kendra, she takes the woman's hand in both of hers, hoping the touch will bring her some small comfort if her words fail to. ”I know you will likely be hearing this often today, as is only right, but I just wanted to tell you that your father was a great man who will be greatly missed. I am so very sorry for your loss.” She gives Kendra's hand a gentle squeeze - wishing in that moment that she could do for the grieving daughter what Vizaresh had done for her earlier - before releasing her to greet the other mourners.

And when the Councilman asks for pallbearers, Inessa does not hesitate to volunteer for the honor, moving to stand near the middle of the coffin’s right side. As she waits for the procession to begin, Inessa takes the opportunity to look over the other attendees, eager to learn more about the late Professor through the sort of company he kept.

The dried ground cracks beneath his weighty boot fall as he travels north along the long road. It had been many days since he had diverted from his previous course to come north, to lay in the ground an old mentor. As he catches his first glimpse of Ravengro, it begins to come back to him. Such a small, quiet town. Something so out of place in this cursed Land. I sometimes wonder why the Professor, such a talented and learned man, had secluded himself so far away from the dangers he studied. Perhaps he had his secrets... had he known the truth of my father? Were he still alive perhaps I could ask for his aid in casting off this horrid curse, but now, no chance at that. Still, he was a good man, so, to my respects.

Drawing near the town, Mathias adjusts his cowl down further. When he had walked the streets of the village five summers past, he had been a handsome, athletic youth approaching his prime. More than a few lasses would sigh as he approached, and he happily would tease them in turn. It had been fun to be young and rugged, though Kendra, the professor's daughter, who was several years his elder, had warned him to be careful with the young ladies. She said a scorned woman's wrath is more dangerous than a lich, and given her knowledge and assistance with his studies, she was likely right. She had been a good friend to him, treating him while he studied under her father almost as a little brother. He had left so abruptly when news came of his father's passing, he had barely said goodbye. He had hoped one day to return to Ravengro and thank the Professor and Kendra for their tutelage and hospitality. But circumstances had lead him elsewhere. I return now bearing the horrid visage of a monster. I wonder, will she even recognize me?

As his thoughts come back to the moment, he realizes he has crossed a majority of the town and reached the cemetery. Several mourners stand before the entrance, though he gives them little pause. Seeing the thin, feminine frame clad in all black and the tears in Kendra's eyes beneath the veil, his heart goes straight back to the death of his own father. Stepping through the others he reaches out one hand to hers as the other pulls back his cowl. The large man's features are oddly sharp, and his skin carries a deathly pallor. Perhaps most unsettling are his dark crimson irises, and several of those gathered step back in response to his sight. "Hello, Kendra. It has been several years, and I have changed... a good deal. I am Mathias Gabriel, son of Ricard Gabriel, perhaps you recall the summer I spent with you and your father? I am truly sorry to hear of his passing, and am here to offer what condolences I may."

As the councilor then asks for pallbearers, Mathias steps forward solemnly, replying simply, "I would be honored"

Jin traveled, and with him traveled sadness. The sky itself almost seemed to reflect his mood, dreary and dark. He wasn't distraught, but he was sad. A dear friend was gone. He had taken time during the journey to put his thoughts and emotions in order. He knew in his mind that the Professor had moved on to the next plane of existence and that he would experience joy. But the world was lacking for the loss of him.

He arrived in the town of Ravengro and made his way to the cemetery. He wished he had time to get a room and clean up before arriving, but he had been far away when he'd gotten the summons. He'd had to move fast to even make it in time for the funeral. He paused to brush himself as clean as he could and make himself as presentable as possible. He was wearing his monk robes as usual and they were designed to resist stains and dirt as much as possible, which helped a bit. He still didn't think he looked good enough for a funeral, but he had little choice.

He stepped around the corner and walked up to Kendra. He gave her a deep low bow of respect. He then quietly said to her, "Please forgive the interruption. I am Zhu Jin. I am sorry for our loss. He was a wonderful man, and he will be missed. If there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate."

To the request for pallbearers, Jin immediately bows slightly and the nods, "I, too, would be honored to help my friend on his journey."

Toad Tongue did not know how the letter about the event had reached him. It was just found tucked next to his burrow in the woods surrounding Ravengro. A death and a funeral.. Burying bodies made little sense to Toad Tongue. Why don't they do something useful with a body like eat it or burn it for light at least. Perhaps death rituals was a final lesson the Professor wanted to teach me. he thought.

Toad Tongue arrived at the cemetery, he had been there many times to collect the perfectly good things that people had buried, and remained lurking among the gravestones as he often did waiting for other funerals to end. People eventually began to gather in the cemetery and a box was brought by a carriage and placed on the ground. It wasn't until he saw Kendra crying -probably indicating sadness- that he realized he was at the correct gathering. But to be sure, Toad Tongue sneaked around the crowd to examine the wooden box all the crying was about. Slowly he lifted the lid, hopefully not enough to not attract the longshanks attention. Upon seeing the Professor's face, Toad Tongue was sure he was at the right place.

As he closed the lid he hears an offer to carry the box. Toad Tongue turns to the voice raises an eyebrow and responds, "I'm not carrying that", pointing to the box. These death rituals are probably pointless, I wonder if eating him is an option?

Viare walked towards the gathering of people slowly. She did not want to believe that the Professor had died. She was in self-denial throughout the journey to his funeral. She had looked up to him for many years and was not ready for his death.

Naleka, her viper, wrapped herself around Viare's arm and rubbed her head against her skin in an attempt to comfort her. "I'll be alright Naleka. I always am, friend," she whispered to her beloved snake.

Viare walked straight to Kendra. "I am so sorry for your loss. I wish I could ease the suffering that you feel, but I cannot." Kendra just nodded her head in response. Poor thing, she cannot even speak she is just so torn.

Councilman Hearthmount introduced himself and asked if the group that was standing there would help carry the coffin. "Absolutely. It would be my honor," She lifted her left arm and spoke softly to Naleka, "I need you to move to my neck dear friend. I don't want to pinch you with the coffin."

Arthorius was tall and pale, and his long hair was greying already, despite the longevity of his race. The decades of life seemed to weight heavily on the shoulders of the scholar. The two blue eyes seemed to stare at everybody in a cold manner, giving the uncomfortable sensation of being in the presence of undeath.

Yet, he was very much alive, and the alchemist carried true good on the core of his heart. He adjusted the glasses on his face, waiting for the others to greet the daughter of Lorrimor, until finally he could approach on his slow steps.

Sorry for your loss, young one. - he spoke, not extending himself - As many others, I imagine, I was a friend of your father.

Petros had actually been more of a teacher figure to Arthorius, as much as their age was fairly close. The professor was intelligent and wise beyond his years, and taught a great deal of knowledge to the dhampir - especially about his strange blood inheritance.

Finally, as the coffin is ready to move, Arthorius agreed with the councilman in serene silence and approached to help carry it. On his thoughts, he imagined Pharasma would now receive that old man on the other side, and for a moment envied the new adventures and curiosities he was now experiencing.

Once all six have said their piece, with five of them helping to carry the coffin, the councilman states that the procession will commence, and Kendra, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, walks to the front, leading the party through the gravel path to the gravesite. Each step they take crunches under their weight, the heavy atmosphere making each noise reverberate in their ears, distracting them from their own thoughts of sorrow, loss, and perhaps even peace.

Several of the others behind the party whisper to themselves, swapping opinions of the ones carrying Professor Lorrimor's coffin. It doesn't take much to understand that they dislike outsiders getting the honor, but acknowledge they're there by request of the deceased, and quickly stop casting judgement in respect to their fallen friend.

Halfway up the road, named the Dreamwake, just before a sign at a bend that names the area Eversleep, a small band of villagers block the way, holding pitchforks and clubs. Mostly younger folk, they seem rallied by one elderly man, face beet-red under his excessively-large straw hat. Holding up a hand to halt them, he clears his throat with exaggerated coughing, obviously trying to play himself up more than he should.

"That's far enough!" he claims, spitting onto the gravel in the direction of the coffin. "We been talkin', see, and and we don't want that Lorrimor feller buried in our Restlands. You can take 'im upriver and bury 'im there, but he ain't goin' in the ground here!"

Kendra is swift to respond, a hand clenching onto her handkerchief as she lowers her arm, her sorrow transforming into anger at the protest of her father's funeral. "What are you talking about?" she cries, stamping a foot onto the ground. "I arranged it with Father Grimburrow. He's waiting for us! Ravengro is...was my father's home as much as yours! Stand aside!"

Clearly unfazed by the outburst, the elderly man simply spits onto the road again. "You don't get it, woman," he snarls. "We won't have some necromancer buried with our kin! I suggest you move out while you can. Folks already ain't too happy 'bout this."

The old man then raises a hand up, and the younger villagers with pitchforks--about six in total--tighten their grips and lower their stance, making it clear they don't intend to let the funeral progress any further.

If anyone would like to interrupt the old man at any point, feel free to do so. If you're going to try to get them to stand down, I'll need diplomacy or intimidate checks, as appropriate.

Toad Tongue ponders the issue. Why does one hole in the ground matter than another hole in the ground. Lets see how this plays out... perhaps this part of the ritual.

The goblin follows up behind the coffin curious whether people will to die over a place to put a dead person.

Jin was not unused to rituals and patience, nor keeping a slow steady pace. He carried the coffin with ease, and walked with a somber gait. He didn't speak nor make noise so as to not disrupt the ceremonial walk. He paused, however, when they were confronted by villagers.

A deep frown slowly cut in to his face as they spoke. Hateful. Ignorant. Belligerent. Ah, scared. Fearful. Possibly drunk.

Hoping this could be solved peacefully, Jin glanced over at the others helping to carry to see if it was necessary to set the coffin down. For the moment he did not, however.

In a quiet voice that still carried on the wind and had a bit of steel to it, he spoke. "You speak out of turn. You speak out of ignorance and fear. That is understandable...but not excusable. This is a sacred time and you are interrupting. This man was beloved, to some a teacher or mentor, to others a father, to others something else. But through it all he was a good man. A decent man. Not a necromancer as you falsely accuse. Please step out of the way. This ceremony should not be stained by violence, yet I will let you keep this good man from his appointed place."

Viare tilts her head slightly, narrows her multicolored eyes and speaks to the old man in a chilling tone, "Listen here old man, I do not have time for your petty little games. The Professor was a good man, not a necromancer. I highly suggest that you and your pathetic company remove yourselves from my sight. If you choose to continue this b@&~*$~~ quest of yours, I will personally torture you and your beloved ones for as long as I see fit. I will take you to death's door time and time again. You will be begging for me to finish you off. Do you understand?" She lowers her chin slightly and makes sure to capture the eyes of the villagers that were looking at her face.

Intimidate 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Viare is hoping that the villages don't notice how disturbing the idea of torturing someone is to her.

At the Councilman's word, Inessa tucks her fingers under the bottom edge of the cold pine coffin and prepares to lift it from the cart where it sits. As she does, she takes a moment to glance at the faces of those sharing in the privilege of escorting the Professor to his final resting place. Her gaze is first drawn to the deep brown eyes of the Tian man beside her. I wonder if he hails from those lands at the farthest reaches of the world. Perhaps that's where he met Lorrimor. The Professor often wrote about his travels to the most exotic of places. She offers the man a smile heavily tempered by sadness and the solemnity of the occasion. Inessa turns to share that same smile with the others gathered around the Professor's coffin, but it fades when she spies her new companions' countenances. At once, she sees a pair of mismatched eyes set into an alluring face, two deep crimson irises that peer out from a visage that looks as though it was painstakingly chiseled from some pale, greyish stone, and a set of icy blue eyes that would not look out of place on the faces of those gone on to receive the Goddess' judgement. By the Lady!

At that moment, the procession begins, and the pine box in which lies the body of the dearly missed Professor is lifted from the cart. Still recovering from the shock at seeing the unnatural gazes across from her, Inessa's grip on the coffin falters and only the diligence of her fellow pallbearers keeps the procession from a disastrous start. With a sheepish expression to serve as a silent apology, Inessa resecures her hold of the coffin and begins the steady march toward Lorrimor's grave. She walks with her head bent and her eyes downcast to watch that she does not misstep as much as to avoid meeting again the eyes of those on the other side of the coffin. So it is that Inessa takes no notice of the trouble awaiting them on the Eversleep until the heavy silence is broken by one man's shouting.

Inessa gapes at the exchange that takes place between Kendra and the villagers. She looks back to the mourners gathered at the end of the procession, expecting one of them or the councilman to speak out against what they were all witnessing. It isn't until the Tian man speaks - his clipped but poignant words conveying in no uncertain terms that he was willing to go through the mob by force if need be - that Inessa realizes that they, those of them who had been personally summoned to Petros' side, would have to be the ones to speak up in defense of their friend and mentor. In the time it takes her to choose her words, the one with the oddly matched eyes speaks first. "Please! There is no need to escalate matters with threats of violence," she pleads, unable to mask her look of appalled distaste at the other woman's outburst. Feeling the need to intercede on the behalf of both parties, Inessa quietly asks that they bear the Professor's coffin without her momentarily. Once the coffin's weight has been redistributed amongst them, Inessa ducks out from underneath it and moves to stand at Kendra's side. Pharasma, help me show these misguided men the error of their ways.

"I understand your concerns. I know how easy it is fear that which we do not know, to think what we cannot understand must be sinister. But just as Pharasma is the Goddess of life and death, so too is she the Goddess of all the mysteries found therein. Petros Lorrimor was a man who devoted his life to studying those mysteries and sharing his knowledge with those around him. Although he was not an ordained servant of Pharasma, in a way, you could say that he spent his entire life doing Her work. Would you truly deny a righteous man the final rites that he deserves? Would you profane the memory of a goodly man without just cause? Would you raise weapons against a daughter grieving the loss of her father?" Inessa pauses at this, looking around to the faces of those young men who were so easily swayed to their elder's ill-conceived scheme. "So I say to you now, do not let your fear lead you down this blasphemous path. If you cannot believe the words of strangers when we tell you that we lay to rest a good, honorable man, then have faith in Pharasma and Her chosen servants. Have faith that the Lady of Graves has bore witness to all of Petros deeds, and trust that She would suffer no necromancer to be buried within Her hallowed grounds. If you will not join us in mourning the loss of this great man, then at least allow us lay him to rest in peace."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

Taking the lead left corner of the coffin, Mathias considers how light the box is as he lifts it. The professor was never a large man, and that strength I gained in this...curse, well... His thoughts trail away as his eyes meet those of the lithe, young blonde across from him. She was striking, in an otherworldly, almost angelic way. He tried to offer her a solemn smile, yet his accursed visage likely presented more of a sneer. The look of horror that appeared on her face in response only confirmed it. Damn, I have to forget that life, the thought that a woman would look at me with any emotion other than disgust.

He let his own dark thoughts consume him as they move across the cemetery. He barely even notices when they are confronted by the townsfolk. Yet as he does, he feels the passion, no the anger, of vengeance burning in him. His fingers find their way to the hilt of his sword, and he considers drawing it, yet then the blonde steps forth, and her words strike at the hearts of their would-be assailants, he pauses. She speaks as one wise well beyond her years. And indeed, it would seem she is perhaps herself a servant of the Lady of Graves. And intriguing soul, to say the least. I will wait a moment, and see how these men respond to her words.

Judging from the stances of the commoners, it seems that they planned for some resistance to their demands. As Zhu speaks, three of them advance, though only approaching so close before stopping. Then Viare makes her threats, and while all of the commoners--as well as the members of the procession itself--seem to recoil in fear, the elderly man just spits. "Seems we got one we gotta put down," he says, suddenly brandishing a dagger from under his roughspun tunic. "Seen too many o' yer kind in my war days. Ain't got time fer the violent types 'round here. Least they ain't gotta take you far to bury you."

Just before the entire force of the protesters advance any farther, though, Inessa is able to stop them with her own protest of the threat of torture, and is thus able to complete her entire speech. Once done, the old man just eyes at her, a look of contempt and confusion melded on his sagging face. "You use too many fancy words," he snarls, taking a step forward. "Ain't got time fer those 'round here, neither. Get 'em, boys."

The other men, however, seem to no longer have the will to fight after the speech. Most mumble about Father Grimburrow, the church, and things they saw the late Professor do around town. They all decide that it's probably not worth it to stop the burial, and start to walk off. This makes the old man work himself up into a frenzy, stomping on the gravel and cursing at the lot of them.

"Knew they was all yellow," he snarls, throwing his dagger to the ground. "Fine! Bury that damned necromancer in the Restlands! But you mark my words, the dead will rise on this night!"

With that message, he finally stomps off, and Kendra raises a hand to her chest and takes in a deep breath. "Thank the gods," she sighs in relief, looking back to the pallbearers. "And thank you, as well," she says, dabbing her handkerchief to her eyes again, then motions for the procession to continue.

It's another few minutes to make it to the destination, and a short man with a stern, shriveled face awaits them. He introduces himself to the new faces as Father Grimburrow, the head priest of the Pharasmin church in town. He and a couple acolytes guide the pallbearers to the hole, and help to lower the coffin neatly into the grave, chanting Pharasmin verses as he does so about how life begets death, and death is where peace is found for the faithful.

The pallbearers are then told to stand in front of the site, where Father Grimburrow stands before the grave as the acolytes start to fill the hole, as per the customs of the town. During this, the Father gives a speech on behalf of the late Professor, his voice similar to the wail of a ghost.

After his speech, Father Grimburrow takes a step to the side, folding his arms behind his back while looking out at the rest of the people. Kendra explains to the party that, as per tradition, anyone may choose to step up and offer a short speech on behalf of her father, speaking of anything they wish about what they knew of him.

Anyone may choose to speak, and if you do, another diplomacy check is to follow it.

Jin began to move to set the coffin down as the commoners began to step forward. He was completely unafraid of injury or death from them, however, he was concerned about the safety and sanctity of the Professor's remains, as well as Kendra being in the line of harm.

One of the others spoke up regarding torture, which made Jin pause and turn slightly to eye them a bit. He hadn't been going to dark places like that, merely a fistfight perhaps. Wonderfully enough, though, one of his other fellow companions and pallbearers was able to defuse the situation. Jin gave a small bow to her in thanks once the agitators had left.

He made a mental note of the man who had been pushing the crowd and doing the talking, memorizing his face in case of future trouble.

He then continued to assist in carrying the coffin to the final resting place. He listened as Father Grimburrow (an odd and apparently appropriate name for the man) spoke at length, taking his own place as directed. When the speech was done and the offer for others to speak, Jin hesitated but then stepped forward - after all, his culture was steeped in tradition as well.

His voice is accented, as might be expected from a Tien man, but his voice is strong even though somber and quiet. "I am Zhu Jin. I met the Professor when I attempted to stop him from being mugged, though it appeared that the thugs intended more to harm him than rob him. I was, unfortunately, brash and headstrong, not stopping to analyze the situation carefully. In the ensuing fight, I did indeed stop the men accosting the Professor, and yet I succumbed to the wounds I received and the Professor was forced to care for me for several days to get my health back. We spoke many long hours and he even asked me to accompany him on his journeys for a time. He was a great man, full of passion and knowledge, good to others, even strangers. He was good to me. I will miss him."

He bowed very low in respect facing the coffin, then stepped back.

Inessa remains at Kendra's side, weathering the old man's wrath and his curse in solidarity with the bereaved daughter until he and the other protestors are well out of sight. Once they are, Inessa breathes a sigh of her own and seems to deflate under the weight of what has transpired. With quiet words of gratitude to the other pallbearers, she takes her place at Petros’ side once more and continues the solemn procession to his grave.

Her own feelings are in turmoil as she watches the Pharasmin acolytes begin to bury Petros’ coffin, each spade of dirt adding to the pain of loss that had not dulled at all in the weeks since Inessa had received news of the Professor's passing. Try as she might to steel herself to say farewell to Petros, her eyes yet brim with tears and she feels herself on the precipice of losing her composure. Despite her esteem for the Professor, it had been ingrained in Inessa by the Sisters of the Cryptgate that all were equal in the eyes of Pharasma, and that no life was more special than another just as no death would more tragic than another. For Inessa especially, such excess of emotion in the face of death was frowned upon and even as she stands before the Professor's grave, she can't help but to think distantly of what the priests in Kavapesta would say if they could see her so upset over one man's passing. Yet before she can truly begin to feel the sting of shame from her perceived weakness, Father Grimburrow's words dispel her troubled thoughts. To hear a servant of the Goddess speak so highly of the Professor and with such praise for his work warms her heart as much as it makes the earlier conflict on the Dreamwake all the more difficult to fathom.

She listens as the Tien man, Zhu Jin, speaks of his relationship with the Professor, a small furrow appearing between her brows as he recounts his first meeting with Petros. Petros was not a man deserving of such senseless violence. Thank the Goddess that fate brought this man to the Professor's side that day. After Zhu Jin concludes his speech, Inessa waits a few moments for any others to step forward before doing so herself.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (4) + 11 = 15

Inessa approaches the newly disturbed earth with head bent and hands twisted together in front of her. Whatever spark of confidence, of charismatic eloquence she possessed on the Dreamwake minutes before seems to have left her spirit. As she speaks, her words seem more directed to the grave than to the assembled mourners and her gentle voice has trouble reaching those standing furthest from the front. "I didn't have the privilege of knowing Professor Lorrimor for as long as some of you might have, but, in our all too brief acquaintance, he has left a lasting impression on my life. He was a great man; a man whose very association inspired those around him to better themselves. I will miss him dearly.”

“His loss is one that will be felt the world over, for the world is a much darker place without him. As we gather to mourn his passing and celebrate his life, may we also honor his memory by striving to live each day as he did.” After her brief speech, Inessa takes her place beside the other pallbearers once again.

After assisting with carrying the Professor's coffin, Mathias steps back toward the rear of the crowd. He stands resolute, listening solemnly, yet showing little reaction upon his stony demeanor. Still, inside he hurts. It was not so long ago that I stood where Kendra does now, my father lost to me just as the Professor is lost to her. Too soon, so often too soon. Still, could my words offer any measure of comfort?

He continues to stay toward the back as the priest finishes his sermon. As several others offer their words in regards to the late Professor, he feels something is lacking. The kind man, the good man, the inspiring man, but what of the warrior?

Slowly, Mathias steps into the circle, allowing his deep, gravelly voice to share a few words. "If the measure of a man is judged by what he does for the benefit of others, then let Professor Lorrimor be regarded among the most noble, for he committed his life to protecting Golarion for the horrors of the dark, the monsters of the night. And thus, he dedicated his life so that all of us might feel the sun a little warmer. To you I raise my sword, Professor."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

From his place behind the coffin Toad Tongue could see the size of the pall bearers in comparison to the crowd blocking the way. He knew that this conflict would likely end in the death of many people and Toad Tongue laughing because the Professor would be buried in the same spot anyway. What the goblin had not expect was Inessa's words to influence people, That speech was just talk how did it stop the attacking, she must have magic that affects the mind. I should watch her.

When the towns folk had departed, Toad Tongue followed the coffin to the grave and watched carefully as it was lowered in. The hole in the earth looked to swallow his old teacher as he was lowered in. So the ground eats him. I don't know how that benefits anyone but at least somethings eating the body. Toad Tongue was impressed by Father Grimburrow's voice as he chanted the coffin into the cold earth. The chanting reminded him of the good old goblin war songs, which he hadn't chanted since his tribe died.

When the chanting stopped, more talking began. Apparently the words that speed up the burying process because they seemed to stop with when the shovel fulls of dirt finally filled the grave. The words were about what kind of man his teacher was. I'm guessing if we are here we knew what kind of man this person was or else we would not have bothered to show up! But observe the ritual I must.

When the burying was done people began expressing how they knew the Professor, One knew him as a warrior, another as a healer and an inspiration. To Toad Tongue none of these concepts aptly described the professor. So the goblin stepped forward and moved next the grave to speak for the one who no longer could. Had the goblin been born almost any other race he may have understood what he really thought of the professor as was a father. But seeing as he had no experience of what a male person who instills knowledge and values within goblin society, this was not what he came up with. "The Professor was a teacher and an example, he made me better than I was. But now he's dead, so we're all doing better than he is right now and we should all keep on doing that until we're dead."

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (17) - 1 = 16

Then the goblin moved and resumed his place with the mourners.

Thank goodness I didn't need to back up my word. I would have just put them to sleep for a bit, a warning. I could never do that to random villagers. They should have known better to mess with the dead and the grieving though. They would have deserved more than just me putting them into a temporary sleep.

Viare listens to the speeches that the others were giving. Some of them were more heartfelt than others. When it is her turn to speak, she steps forward. She quickly meets the gaze of everyone around her, then looks slightly above them to try to hide her emotion. "I looked up to the Professor long before I met him. I heard so many fantastic stories about the man that knew...well everything. I eventually had the opportunity to meet him. He became my mentor and most importantly my friend. He helped me discover who I am and who I am meant to become. He was such a kind, gentle soul." She could feel the tears start to well in her eyes, so she stepped back to where she was without saying another word.

Naleka tightened around her arm in an attempt to comfort Viare. Viare reached over with her other hand and petted the snake as she was deep in thought with her memories of the Professor. She wiped her tear and continued to stroke Naleka, eyes focused on the grave.

diplomacy:1d20 ⇒ 14

The locals are respectfully quiet as each of the speakers say their piece, hands folded and heads bowed as they reflect on their own experiences with the late Professor. When each is done, the locals nod their head and mutter some encouraging words. Even the goblin gets such, though it's obvious that there's some hesitation from each of them. All in all, it seems that none of them have any objections to what was said, and Kendra silently thanks all of them for saying something.

After Viare, a couple of the locals say something, as well. The first is a robust, middle-aged man who Kendra tells the group is Zokar Elkaird, the owner of the local tavern. He says that he's going to miss hearing the exaggerated tales of heroism and adventure the Professor would always tell his tavern goers.

The second is a relatively younger woman who Kendra says is Jominda Fallenbridge, the local apothecary and one of her father's good friends. She says that she's going to miss the discussions they would have about various plants and reagents and their potential alchemical properties, as well as the competitive hours they would waste in chess.

The others in attendance decline the chance to speak, having nothing new to add, and Father Grimburrow concludes the procession with another verse from the Pharasmin holy text. The locals linger near the site as the Father retires to the church, and Kendra speaks with each of them, but only briefly, her eyes still puffy and red, tears still dripping down her cheeks.

Shortly thereafter, Councilman Hearthmount approaches Kendra, reminding her that he will be at the manor house to read her father's will, though he will be there later than intended, as there was an item he had forgotten to retrieve. He then seeks out each member of the party, wherever they find themselves, and asks for them to be at the reading, as per the late Professor's request. He makes it a point to make sure the goblin knows he's supposed to be there, as well, and to make sure he "doesn't make mischief along the way."

Kendra just nods, not saying a word to Councilman Hearthmount, dabbing her leaking eyes with her handkerchief. She agrees to lead the party to her home, and does just that, head lowered and looking at the gravel path, then eventually the dirt road. There's a somber silence about her, obviously lost in her thoughts, not even looking behind her. She takes the back road, avoiding the bridge through the town center, seemingly not wanting to hear from the other locals for a while. This takes the party past the Pharasmin church, clearly the most ornate building in the town.

After a good half an hour of walking, they reach the manor house, a building that would be unassuming were it not for its size. Kendra opens the door and invites the party in. She leads them to the lounge room and offers them to sit down on any of the chairs or the sofa. She assumes that the Councilman will take another hour to arrive, so she asks that they wait patiently for him. She can't say what her father's will may contain; it was something she never thought to ask him, and she admits that she'd rather not think about it. She then apologizes for her poor hospitality, but she must excuse herself to change and make tea, and heads out of the room and up the stairs.

Cue PC interactions with each other!

"Oh, I don't mind helping with the tea," Inessa begins to say as Kendra makes mention of it, her eagerness perhaps betraying her unease about the strange group she finds herself a part of—but the grieving heir of Professor Lorrimor is moving up the stairs seemingly before she can register the young woman's gentle voice. Her attempt foiled, Inessa gives her fellow mourners a bashful smile before moving into the lounge room, her silent guardian following dutifully in her wake. Rather than take one of the seats offered, Inessa moves to stand at the window and look out at the gloomy hamlet that is Ravengro. As she does, the fingers of her right hand find the silver holy symbol of Pharasma settled at the hollow of her throat and begin to endlessly trace the spiral there.

A part of her, born of Kavapestan superstitiousness and the ignorance of one who's been sheltered her entire life, wonders self-consciously about what the Professor could have seen in her that he also saw in her present company. A goblin, a professed torturess, the man who seemed to know a great deal too much about the dark things that stalked Ustalav. But that incorruptible spark in Inessa—the part that refuses to give into idle fears, the part that strives to see the goodness in others too often overlooked—instead focuses on the common thread that binds them all together: Professor Lorrimor.

It is enough, she thinks, that the Professor held us all in high regard. Whoever these people are, whatever their circumstances... only the Lady may judge them. Petros put his trust in them, and I put my trust in him.

Taking it upon herself to break the heavy silence in the room, Inessa turns from the window to look at others gathered in the lounge. "I thought you all were very moving in your speeches on behalf of the Professor," she says, clasping her hands in front of her to keep herself from nervously reaching for her holy symbol. Realizing that they should not expect Kendra to be in the right state to make introductions on their behalf, she adds, "We didn't really have an opportunity to introduce ourselves during the procession. My name is Inessa."

Toad Tongue follows the appointed group around the town on the back roads, which Toad Tongue preferred to the busy noisy center of town. There are always more unoccupied people and things along the back ways where a goblin can move about unmolested.

It had crossed his mind as they walked together up the front of the Lorrimor estate to question who he was with but it really didn't matter because he was rarely requested to be anywhere by anyone so that was a nice change of events.

I hope there's food where we're going the goblin looked to his stomach he hadn't eaten in hours. Many rituals involve food he reassured himself.

When Kendra offered tea the goblin hopeful smile turned into a disappointed frown but before he could speak up another female interrupted offering to help with the tea. Tea! The professor would drink the stuff by the gallon but it wasn't much on its own, perhaps with a nice rat to accompany the meal but never alone.

Toad Tongue's thoughts were interrupted as the Inessa person introduced herself. Remembering his etiquette lessons Toad Tongue responded with "Hello Inessa, I am Toad Tongue nice to meet you." in a very practiced yet oddly forced cadence of words coming from a smile that looked like it had been rehearsed by someone putting there fingers in the corners of the goblins mouth and forcing them up.

"Do you have any food?"

Traveling with Kendra and the others to Lorrimor Place, Mathias keeps a wary eye toward the town, concerned that some of the dissidents from the funeral might make a reappearance. Yet despite his concerns, they reach the Professor's residence without incident.

Taking one last survey of the road behind, Mathias enters the house last. Closing the door behind him, he sets his pack on the ground, and takes off his overcoat before joining the others. Even with a goblin in the room, I still stand out too much. Still, the Professor and his daughter deserve my respect and support now. Guess I need to put those thoughts behind me. After the Pharasman and the Goblin both offer their introductions, Mathias straightens his collar and steps forward.

"Honored friends of the Professor, I would like to offer my humble apologies to you, as I did not introduce myself earlier. My name is Mathias Gabriel, I am a hunter of the horrid, inhumane, and undead. My father was a comrade of the Professor in ages past, and for a time the Professor was a mentor to me, in this very town. How did each of you come to know him?"

Jin smiled slightly as Zokar spoke. He could definitely understand missing the Professor's stories. He gave a nod as he listened to Jominda, understanding full well how knowledgeable and passionate the professor could be on subjects, as well as liking chess. Jin himself could play but he was in the Professor's league as it were.

He straightened a bit more when the Councilman approached and spoke. Reading of the will? Interesting. Jin hadn't expected anything from the Professor after death honestly. He was here to pay his respects, which he had done. Nevertheless, he nodded to Kendra and the Councilman, saying he would indeed be there.

He traveled just behind and to the left of Kendra as they walked. He was only slightly worried that the belligerent man from before would show up to cause more trouble. He looked interested as they passed the Church of Pharasma. He was well aware that the faith was most prominent in Ustalav, and the church itself looked to be more well-appointed than the other buildings.

"Think nothing of it, Kendra-san. Take care of yourself, and do not hesitate to let us know if you need anything."

He gave a bow to the group when they started making introductions. "I stated my name at the funeral, as well as how I met the professor, but I am happy to introduce myself again." He sat down in one of the chairs, back ramrod straight, though he looked at ease and somewhat relaxed. "My name is Zhu Jin. In the culture of my people, we give our family names first as a way of showing honor to them. So Jin is my first name, and since we are all friends of the Professor, you may call me such."

Viare listens intently to the others speak, she would rather focus on anything besides her own thoughts. All the times we shared... She took a deep breath and prepared herself mentally to speak to the strangers. Surely they won't judge me for the things I threatened to those men. I said what I had to.

"Hello everyone. I am Viare and this is my friend Naleka," she lightly brushes her fingers over the viper, "We were friends of the Professor. He was a hero and such an inspiration to me, but you all heard enough about my thoughts of him at the funeral. Do any of you know about what he wants to tell us?" Her soft voice sounds so carefree and enticing, it's like listening to the ocean waves on a beautiful summer day. She looks around the room once she finishes speaking, waiting for an answer to tell her why she is there waiting for the will to be read.

Despite having listened to him speak at the funeral, Toad Tongue's polished greeting still brings a look of mild surprise to Inessa's face. Even though the goblin's smile comes across as more of a grimace, Inessa favors him with a soft smile in kind, his question and demeanor reminding her of a child taught to demonstrate his manners before asking for a sweet. "I'm sorry, I didn't bring anything to eat with me. But if you like, I could ask Miss Kendra for you when she comes back down?" she offers, believing that—the goblin's refined mannerisms notwithstanding—she might be able to make the request with a little more tact than Toad Tongue.

Inessa's smile falters slightly as Mathias steps forward but, to her credit, the young woman manages not to drop her gaze as she catches sight of those dark crimson eyes once more. Her own crystal blue eyes swim with unasked questions as the man introduces himself, yet at the end of his speech, rather than give voice to any of those questions, Inessa instead says, "That is a very noble calling, Sir Gabriel. Truly you do the Goddess's work."

When asked about her own relationship with the Professor, Inessa at last settles into the chair nearest her with a soft sigh. As she looks out the window once again, it seems by the unfocused yet haunted look in her eyes that she is more reliving her tale than merely recalling it. "Some time ago, I was traveling through the vales of Amaans to visit a little village that had endured some tragedy. But we never made it to our destination. A few days into our journey, we were beset by the undead. They swarmed the carriage, fell upon the drivers, the guards... It was horrible." She falls silent for a few moments, then, suddenly stricken by the inappropriateness of going into detail about the undead at a funeral, Inessa delicately clears her throat before continuing on to the less harrowing parts of her tale. "Only by the grace of Pharasma and the intervention of my guardian, Vizaresh, did I survive. Word spread of that awful night, and Professor Lorrimor was one of those who visited me to hear my story. He had a wealth of knowledge, not just about the undead, but also of guardian spirits, of the places beyond our world, and the people touched by those places." Inessa glances briefly to Mathias at the last comment. "I'm sad to say that much of what he tried to teach me that day did not hold. I had hoped, in time, that we would be able to speak at length about what he knew, but alas, it seems the Goddess had a different plan in mind for our dear friend."

As Viare speaks, Inessa gives her a guarded look, the Pharasmin's opinion of her having warmed only slightly since hearing the woman speak at the Professor's funeral. When Viare introduces her friend, Inessa draws back into her chair with a subdued gasp. It isn't until she notices that the viper does nothing more than sedately hang on the woman's arm that she calms, minutely, and manages to pull her gaze away from the snake and back up to her mistress. "I think the Professor was a mystery even to those that knew him best," she answers in a surprisingly even voice. "I doubt we'll know of the reason for his request until the Councilman arrives to read his will. Perhaps not even then," she adds, a fond little smile momentarily brightening her features at the memory of Petros' enigmatic nature.

Toad Tongue heard the stories and thought it time to add his own. "I was the brave goblin who survived when my clan died at the hand of foolish invaders I killed them all moved to Ravengro to make a new clan. The Professor found me and 'cause of my fighting skill took me under his wing and taught me many things. Now I come when he finally wanted to teach me about his death." The goblin shrugs, "thats why I'm here."

Jin looked thoughtfully at Viare for a long moment. "While I was quick to threaten violence on the villagers, I only did so as a means to try and get them to back down, to avoid violence. I must admit that your threat of grievous torture was...difficult to hear from one of the Professor's acquaintances."

He looked to Inessa. "I am sorry to hear of the trouble you had, and the losses therein, but glad that you were seen safely through it."

He looked to the goblin and after a moment's thought, he offered. "I am sorry to hear of your loss."[b] He paused and then went on, [b]"To your earlier question of food, I could spare a ration for you, though it is not the most taste-ful of foods."

Viare noticed Inessa's reaction towards Naleka. "She is friendly, no reason to be scared of her. She's a gentle soul... Maybe one day you will hold her." She turns towards Jin when she saw him looking at her. I hope everyone isn't afraid of Naleka.

Viare looked down, avoiding the gaze of Jin. She was embarrassed by her threats. "I would never do that to someone unless it was absolutely necessary. I was just trying to get them to back down quickly. If they pursued a violent ending, I would have put them into a momentary sleep." She finally meets his gaze, "I try to be a good person."

Toad Tongue's tilts toward Jin's offer of a ration and hears his rumbling stomach, "Food, thank you. Then paused "And.. maybe Inessa can talk to Kendra and get us more food?"

Mathias listens quietly to each newcomer's tale with respect. The goblin's focus on food does bring a small smile to his lips, but he hides it quickly, knowing that his smile now looks more like a cruel twist.

Mathias offers a nod off respect to Zhu Jin. "You do us honor by offering your given name. Thank you."

He catches Inessa's eyes again as she turns to him, and notices the fear in them. words of respect, but hiding fear within. Still, she conducts herself far kinder than others have. "Thank you. The work I do is the charge of my family, and the duty of my faith. Still, I am happy to make the world safer for those souls in need of defense."

"And, I must agree that I am glad things did not escalate to violence. The people of this town are decent folk, but their superstitions run high, and the appearance of a few of us, myself included, likely only heightened those fears."

Inessa inclines her head to Jin. "Thank you. I was also sorry to hear of the injuries you suffered in defense of the Professor, but I'm grateful that you could be there for him in his time of need. You said before that you reacted brashly, but I think you showed bravery, if you ask me." Inessa casts a brief look forward the stairs, and after she neither sees nor hears any sign of Kendra, she turns back to the group. Leaning forward in her chair, she speaks softly to Jin, though the cozy lounge does nothing to keep her voice from reaching the others. "You also mentioned that you accompanied the Professor for a time? It might help ease a little of the grief in Kendra's heart to hear stories of her father's travels." She settles back into her chair with a shy smile. "At least, I should like to hear them, if you wouldn't mind. I've seen and heard so little of the world outside of Kavapesta..."

At Toad Tongue's question, Inessa's smile turns slightly indulgent as she regards the goblin. She doesn't fail to notice that his concern for food extends to them all and, once again, she is impressed by his manners. "I'll see if we can't find something to have with the tea when Miss Kendra comes back down. What sort of things do you like to eat?"

Inessa blushes slightly when Viare detects her unease concerning Naleka. "She does seem very docile. I didn't mean to imply otherwise, I'm sorry. I've just never seen one so close before. How long have you had her?" Rather than agree or disagree with Viare about one day holding Naleka, she simply smiles, if a touch uneasily. "One day, perhaps."

When Mathias mentions that his work is the duty of his faith, Inessa looks over the man once again, more closely this time and not thinking to attempt to disguise her curious scrutiny. "You are a servant of The Lady of Graves?" she asks when she sees no sign of Mathias' faith on his person, her hand rising to briefly touch the Holy Spiral settled at her throat. "Or, is it The Inheritor, rather?" On the topic of religion, Inessa seems to find it much easier to talk to Mathias without any sense of fear.

At Inessa's question, Mathias opens his mouth as if to speak, yet pauses for a moment. Finally, he responds. "While I offer the occasional prayer to the Lady of Graves, and thank Her for Her guidance in fighting the risen dead, no I do not serve her. And the Church of the Inheritor, well, let's just say we no longer see things quite the same. No, my path is one of Vengeance upon the evil and unhallowed, set forth before me by the Lord Ragathiel." As if to make his point, he loosens his baldric, allowing his sheathed sword to slowly slide off his back and into his hand. He lays it, still in the scabbard, upon the table, where the crossguard is clearly emblazoned with a wing crossed by a blade.

Viare pauses momentarily, "She has traveled with me for a few years, but I have known her for much more than that. She would visit me at a distance, until one day she made her decision to let me hold her. We have been together ever since." She smiled at the thought of that moment. It was so precious, yet frightening. I'm so glad to have her in my life.

She listens to the others talk of religion, which never truly captured Viare's attention. She believed, but never studied. She knew the basics from her parents and was able to recognize most things.

She was getting curious on what was taking Kendra so long. Hopefully she's alright. Poor thing has been through so much.

After about half an hour of the party conversing with each other, Kendra makes a brief return after coming down the stairs. She has indeed changed her attire, wearing much more comfortable and modest clothing, while also having tied her blonde hair up into a bun in the back. Eyes still showing signs of tears, she simply nods to the group before retreating into the kitchen to prepare the tea. Amidst the clanking of kettles and pouring of water, the quiet sounds of Kendra attempting to console herself can be heard.

After a few minutes of that, she comes out with a tray with six glasses of tea, as well as a basket of bread with some butter. She apologizes for the meager amount of food she can provide, as she wasn't expecting so many guests on such a short notice. The tea she provides has a bitter taste to it, but is otherwise suitable for consumption. The bread is moist and the butter fresh, if insubstantial. Kendra takes a seat near the rest of the party in an awkward silence, the poor girl still finding it difficult to talk about what she's experiencing or otherwise start a conversation. Most attempts to talk with her are met with simple nods or a hand waving to signal that she's still distraught, though she states that she may open up more after hearing the will, as she's too anxious about its contents.

A short while afterwards, a knock is heard at the door. Kendra gets up, stating that it's probably the councilman, and answers it. Surely enough, she returns with Councilman Hearthmount following her, holding a seals scroll tube. He thanks everyone for waiting for him, though as he does, he casts his gaze upon the party, thinly veiling his suspicions about them. Nonetheless, he states his desire to let his dear friend's last will and testament be known to those he chose to hear it, and takes a seat on the couch in front of everyone. He unseals the tube, and as he fishes out the scroll, a key falls out and clinks on the floor below. The councilman seems undisturbed by this, and doesn't even acknowledge it as he unfurls the scroll, clears his throat, and begins to read.

"I, Petros Lorrimor, being of sound mind, do hereby commit 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 as you see fit, my child.

I, Petros Lorrimor, hereby sign this this will--"

The councilman tapers off at the end, which is just the legal bits that pertains to the signing of the will, and furls up the scroll and puts it back in the tube to keep on file in the town hall. He thanks everyone for their time, apologizes once again for their loss, and hurries out of the manor, wishing to leave Kendra to her grief. She certainly seems affected by the will, having found more tears to shed when she learned her father left near everything to her, and she states not knowing what to do with any of it.

She then gets up and picks up the key that dropped, saying that she recognizes it as a copy that opens the chest mentioned in the will. She had no idea what was contained within until she heard the will, but since it belongs to the party, she goes to fetch it, returning after just a minute's time with a small storage box. She hesitates once she brings it, and instead hands the key to the party member who will accept it, admitting that she's slightly afraid of its contents.

Leaving the post here since it's long, and gives the party time to react to the will, as well as Kendra coming down to serve them the tea.

"Thank you Kendra. This is plenty." She takes a cup of tea and some bread. She sits down and sips on the bitter tea. Not to my taste, but the poor woman went through all of that trouble. It would be rude to not drink it. She quickly takes a bite of the bread after inhaling the sweet smell. The taste is welcoming, especially after the tea. She smiles at Kendra, attempting to show appreciation, but it was more of an awkward smile.

Viare finishes the bread just as Councilman Hearthmount entered the room. She listens intently as he read the will. She watches the faces of the others as the Councilman and Kendra walk of the room. "Well that was not what I was expecting."

When Kendra returns with the box, Viare is instantly drawn to the poor woman. Such grief in a young soul. Poor thing.. When she holds out the key, Viare stands. "It would be my honor to carry the box if no one objects."

Mathias graciously accepts the tea from Kendra as she returns from the kitchen. "No need to offer apologies, Lady Lorrimor. I think we were all surprised to be summoned as part of your father's last wishes."

Sitting quietly sipping his tea, Mathias stays still when the councilman arrives and reads the last will and testament of the Professor. Thinking on his late mentor's requests, Mathias looks around the room, taking in the others' reactions. Quite a mix of characters to watch over the Professor's daughter...

After the councilman leaves, Mathias sighs slightly. "The Professor was a friend and mentor to me. While perhaps not the most normal of requests, I will honor the man's last wishes and stay here with Kendra for the next month before seeing the chest returned to Lepidstadt University."

Looking from the key in Kendra's hand up to Viare, "I have no objections to your offer to hold onto the box and it's contents. Though, I find it strange that he would include the key for us if merely meant us to deliver this box to Lepidstadt. Perhaps we should have a look at what is within?"

Jin told a short story of he and the Professor, traveling to one of the many digs the man had undertaken, and their time at the dig itself. They had even been attacked by some locals of Mwangi when they had been there. It had been a fruitful expedition, however, with them returning to Absalom with several artefacts of cultural knowledge.

He stood and bowed to Kendra when she returned and brought them tea. He took the tea and bowed over it again to her, staying standing until she took her seat. Only then did he sit and take a sip. He savored the taste, a bit bitter but still welcome nonetheless. He ate of the bread only sparingly, knowing the little goblin was hungry but not wanting to be rude to Kendra and refuse it altogether.

Pay it no mind, Ms. Lorrimor. This is most welcome after a long journey. As you said you were not expecting us, and it is a time to grieve, not bake." He said that, though he had known a few that baked during stress and grief actually.

He stood and bowed to the councilman when he arrived. He listened silently throughout the short will reading. His eyebrows rose up in surprise at what it said. He should have expected it, really, knowing his old friend.

He gave a nod to Mathias. Agreed. I would be honored to stay and watch over you, Ms. Lorrimor, though I would not impose upon you. I am certain I can find accommodations in town."

He pursed his lips as he pondered the chest and the books supposedly contained therein for a long moment. "I suppose...we could take a look and make certain that the books are actually still within, and have not been stolen or damaged by water or somesuch."

As soon as the tea and bread are brought to the group Toad Tongue snatched at a piece and gobbled it down before pausing to notice the more smooth deliberate motions of the others sipping their tea.

Etiquette... the goblin gave a small sour scowl and as delicately as he could reached for his cup of tea, which to the causal observer would resemble a marionette being motioned to pick up a cup and drink from it. The tea through some miracle made it into the Toad Tongue's mouth.

Addressing Kendra, "Thank you for the food and tea, I'm sure you did your best while you are sad. I'm sure you'll be happy later."

Upon the councilman arriving Toad Tongue took a place off to the side and listened. As the words of the will were read the goblin listened to the cadence of the writing so obviously the voice of Professor Lorrimor. He was speaking through the councilman's mouth such that the goblin drifted back for a moment to his time of instruction with the Professor.

When the reading had concluded and after hearing the comments of the others in room Toad Tongue offers.

"The Professor only said the books needed to be returned to the University, so open it."

Toad Tongue stares at the box in wonderment with an urge to know what's inside.

Holding the key, she looks at the box. "Since everyone wants to open it, let's do just that." She grabs the box and sets it on the table, inserts the key, and pops the lid open.

The key is the perfect fit for the chest, as expected, and the oak-and-iron box's lid opens up without much resistance. Inside, as promised by the late professor, are several books, most of which seem rather old. On top of these tomes, however, sits a newer-looking book with a note that says, "Read me now!" lying on top. The leather-bound book has no title upon it.

Among the other various tomes, four others stand out, mostly as the late professor has left notes upon them, as well. Three of them have been asked to be delivered to one Montagnie Crowl, a professor of antiquities at Lepidstadt University. The fourth, a purple-covered book with a brass scarab with what looks to be a triangular keyhole in the eye on its back (to which no key seems to be in the chest), is noted to be delivered to Judge Embreth Daramid, the same woman mentioned to be handing the party their inheritance money in one month's time. There is no title on this book, as well, and it cannot be opened without opening or breaking the lock. The judge's address is listed on the note, and advises that the handling of the book be discreet.

Slightly troubled by Kendra's own suspicions about the contents of the chest, Inessa watches warily from her chair as Viare opens the box. Once the lid opens and nothing frightful happens, she breathes a quiet sigh of relief but makes no move to inspect the contents of the chest herself. Rather, Inessa turns to regard Kendra, watching as the grief-stricken woman takes in her father's last words for her. When the moment to do so feels right, Inessa speaks with Kendra in hushed tones.

"A month... It's... rather longer than the Sisters are expecting me to be away. But as a Pharasmin and, more to the point, a friend of the Professor's, it is my duty and privilege to honor your father's last requests, and I'm certain they will understand. Might I use your stationery so I can send word back to Kavapesta?"

The opening of the box was more underwhelming that Toad Tongue had thought it would be. The lack of chaotic energies or loud scream to echo from the box made the books contained in the box very ordinary.

Perhaps the dangerous stuff is inside the books. The goblin thought.

Toad Tongues reaches out and grabs one of the unlocked books from the table and examines it as one would a detonator and then opens it flipping though all of the pages, looking for what is so interesting about this book.

Calming reaching down, Mathias lifts the small, leather bound book with the note, and taking a deep breath, opens to its pages and begins to read aloud...

Upon the request for stationery, Kendra nods and leads Inessa to the next room, which appears to be a study of sorts. Many books line the shelves of this room, hardly any dust upon them, showing their frequent use. Some of the titles on the spines denote that most of them are encyclopedias of Golarion, from history to geography to arcane practices. In the center is a desk with a small lectern, and Kendra provides Inessa with some parchment and an inkwell, as well as an envelope. She states that the post won't be sent out until a few days, so she'll have time to think about what to send. A smile and a short laugh escapes her, as well, as she remembers that when she was a child, her father would always warn her to stay out of the study while he was in it, or else he'd put a curse on her, which often led to him chasing her around the house, acting like an evil witch that was looking to put her in a cauldron.

1d3 ⇒ 1

In his random grabbing, Toad Tongue picks up a jet-black book with the title "On Verified Madness" written in white letters upon it. As he flips through it, he can get a grasp that it's a treatise on various abberations and things that have remote ties to the Dark Tapestry, the space between stars. Many things have visual aids, full of twisted, ugly beings that could easily strike fear in most mortal minds. It speaks of horrors that, should they ever visit upon Golarion, could spell the end times of the world.

Then Mathias grabs the leather book with the note upon it, and quickly finds that it's Professor Lorrimor's journal. Most of it is just mundane recounts of his daily life, though he finds each of the party's names mentioned, detailing their various encounters, and his thoughts about them. He noted that each of them had a strong sense of potential about them, and he wished to keep tabs on them. While he admits that Toad Tongue was a bit frustrating at first, each entry on the party makes mention of his admiration for their aptitudes, and knew that he would have to call upon them in dire times.

Among the other various entries, only a few others stand out. Several entries over several years make mention of a cult called the Whispering Way, with only vague hints about them mentioned. It seems the Professor had been tailing them, but could only find out so much. A few of the passages have been circled in red ink, drawing attention to them.

Kendra, having heard the reading of the journal, manages to find a few more tears to shed, though the final passage manages to elicit a soft giggle from her. "Oh, Father..." she says between sobs. "Don't you remember? I beat that witch out of you when I was eight."

Sucking in a breath, she manages to regain her composure, forcing a soft smile across her lips. "I suppose I get to see all of you for a month now," she says, bowing her head with her hands folded in front of her. [b]"Please, do make yourselves at home. There's plenty of space in the guest rooms, so you may unpack and wind down. I'm sure most of you had a long journey."

Jin looked in to the chest when it was opened. He did not touch any of the books as some of the others did, merely looked at them and the visible notes that ones had that he could see. It was interesting but these were to be turned over to others eventually. Now, the one with the keylock IN the book....that was very interesting. A locked book was not something one saw every day. And several of them had no titles!

The journal was enlightening. The Professor had been busy. "So. The Whispering Way. Hmm. I wonder if the Professor was-" He stopped speaking suddenly, and deliberately did not look at Kendra, cutting off the rest of the sentence about him having been killed. He continued after only a very short stop but it was somewhat obvious he'd changed what he had been about to say, "...on to something sinister in this town. This Harrowstone is a prison nearby?"

Closing the journal and putting it down on the table, Mathias sighs deeply. He turns toward Jin at his question, "Yes, as I recall from my time here in Ravengro, it was a prison in years past, but burnt down and is now no more than a ruin. The kids of the town used to tell ghost stories..." Mathias trails off as his attention turns toward Kendra.

"I am sorry, Lady Lorrimor, to ask at this sad time, but what was the manner in which your father passed?"

As Toad Tongue flip through the book he has chosen he begins to make faces of disgust as he examines the diagrams of the horrid shaped things.

"This book contains pictures that make humans seem beautiful." The goblin remarks as he attempts to gain an understanding of the material he's reading.

Inessa makes a slow circle around the room after Kendra shows her to the study, her eyes falling over the many books lining the shelves. Of particular interest are the encyclopedias detailing Golarion's history. The Professor had taught her a good deal of the history of Ustalav and planned to teach her more about the world at large in time. A wave of sadness threatens to overtake Inessa but she composes herself for Kendra's sake, turning to give the woman a sympathetic smile as she shares a fond memory of her father. "Thank you, Miss Kendra. And not to worry about the post; I'll ask the driver to bring it back to Kavapesta with him."

After penning a brief letter to the Holy Mother of the Cryptgate, Inessa seals the envelope and brings it with her into the lounge, rejoining the group in time to overhear the reading of Petros' journal. "Necromancers? Here in Ravengro?" She turns her look of incredulity and worry from Mathias and the journal in his hands to Kendra. "Surely the townsfolk would have noticed the presence of such... unsavory outsiders in their community?"

"Perhaps this is something to sleep on. We should all get some rest and discuss this in the morning. Today has been draining on all of our emotions. Kendra, which rooms would you like us in?"