It is the year 4711, and today is the day of your dear friend Professor Lorrimor's funeral. The town of Ravengro is quiet, as is typical in this gloomy region. Dark, heavy, rain clouds have settled over the town and a moderate but constant drizzle has been falling all morning.
The ground here looks as though it hasn't seen the sun in a week! The grass is heavily trodden, and the ground soaked. The muddy lanes that pass for roads, are littered with deep puddles.
You have just arrived in Ravengro after a long journey. You know you are to meet near the entrance to the burial field known as the restlands.
Ario “Sly” Sylleus walked into Ravengro without much purpose. Not much on him except the Morningstar and Crossbow that his father gave him, and a few simple affects tucked away in his backpack. With his ratty explorers clothes drenched, he slicked back his shoulder length black hair and pulled his cloak just a bit tighter around himself.
Ario had however had the good fortune to come across a gangly mule at a dead man’s price, on his way into town. It was an odd site seeing a 6 foot, 21 year old human seemingly dragging an equally gaunt mule around this day in age.
With about 100 gold pieces and all his other belongings tucked into the saddlebags, he looked at the mule he had aptly named Spooks, and for the first time in a number of years felt a little rich and light hearted. Not many at all had gold these days.
It was at that moment that Ario remembered why he was here. The only person, whom had cared any bit for him after his father passed, had now passed on as well.
“Well Spooks, No matter how bad it gets, history shows it could always be worse. Honestly, I don’t feel like it can get much worse right now. Come on, I see the entrance to the Restlands over there. Let’s get this over with.”
Trudging up to the entrance of the Restlands, an unnerving feeling of dread began to fill the young Inquisitor from within….
Cade puprider is a very cheerful halfling that seems to not even notice the gloom around him. He is riding his most cherished belonging, his "pup" red tooth is a sizable wolf that seems to notice everything with his eyes darting from side to side. Following cade and red is a very happy looking grey mule with black spots almost skipping along.
Cade is 3 feet tall and 32lbs dressed in scale armor and a sworm suit, with a lance draped over his shoulder head back and whistling a diddy.
As the strange group nears people heyseed the mule will galop up to people and drop his head waiting to be rubbed between the ears.
oh how I love that silly ass
ho stranger sorry about hayseed he enjoys nothing more than a good head scratching and is completely harmless
Having received the dark tidings, Valeris Chillhide tended to his last few patients as quickly as his conscious would allow. His normal rounds typically last more than a month. With failing crops and over taxation, those living in the outskirts have grown more reliant on traveling hedge wizards, like himself, these days. His stay would be uncharacteristically short, thoroughly disappointing the locals and his coin purse alike.
Valeris traveled with his long time friend and confidant, Konstantin Sokolov. They often consulted on each other’s endeavors. When Konstantin brought word of Professor Lorrimor's death, Valeris knew he needed to attend the funeral in Ravengro and would rely upon the moral support of his scholarly friend. Dragging his overburdened donkey behind him, Valeris muttered quietly, wishing his traveler's outfit was more resistant to the steady, soaking rain. The journey of the cold, waterlogged pair was finally catching up to Valeris. Upon entering Ravengro, the elf’s demeanor grew more somber.
After finally pulling hayseed away the pore strangers that happen to be on the main road, cade and his small hurd head too the funeral to pay his respects and celebrate the good professors life.
"Good sir, could you by chance direct me to the entrance to the restlands?" The stranger asked, “my elvish friend and I are here to mourn the passing of...an esteemed colleague”. The stranger's speech marked him as a native of Ustalav, though perhaps long removed from his homeland.
“Who isn’t mourning someone these days, hrmm? The place is just down the road, you can't miss it”. The local replied, eyeing the stranger with suspicion. He (the stranger) seemed innocent enough, neither tall nor short, neither gaunt nor plump; his graying hair and somewhat weathered face made him look every one of his forty some-odd years.
But no amount polite speech would distract the local from the fact that this stranger had the bearing and mannerisms of a holy man. And if that wasn’t enough to make him (the villager) apprehensive, the longsword on the stranger’s hip was. As an added incongruity, the pair of out-of-towners were leading a pair of mules, each of which seemed to be loaded down with all manner of traveling gear.
The stranger noted the local's apprehension, and introduced himself: "Forgive me, I am Konstantin Sokolov, a cleric of Iomedae, and this," taking a hand off of his staff and gesturing to the elf, “is. . . Valeris,” Sokolov finally said, after an uncomfortable silence on behalf of the elf, who turned and looked at Sokolov, his face showing the kind of blank intensity that the villager immediately understood as “the less said, the better, you old fool.”
Oddly, at this the villager’s studied recalcitrance softened, though not by much. Sokolov continued, “Thank you for the information, sir, and if you happen to be in the tavern later this evening, I’d be pleased to buy you a drink for your time.”
At this, the two departed, and continued down the road, leading their mules. “Every word of that was completely unnecessary, Sokolov” chided the Elf.
“Perhaps, perhaps not. We will surely be here for a few days, and likely remembered for far longer; if we sow a bit of friendliness and generosity, we might reap a great harvest of hospitality later!”
“You sound like a damn village priest, Sokolov” said Valeris, shaking his head. “Hrmm,
fancy that,” the cleric replied.
Knowing the route to the Restlands frustrated the spellcaster, having traveled this apprehensive path more frequently as of late. “It’s just a little further to the entrance,” Valeris morosely disclosed to Konstantin. “Funerals here have always made me … uneasy. Mayhaps it’s their frequency of late.”
Slowly continuing onward, thoughts of Professor Lorrimor’s various lectures and correspondences drifted in and out of Valeris’ thoughts, as his thoughts grew steadily more caliginous.
This place, these people. It’s as if the closer I come to Ravengro, the more difficult it becomes.
You have all gathered in the grey morning at the entrance to the Restlands.
As you arrive you see only a handful of villagers, two well dressed men, an aged lady and a rotund man with a boy who looks to be his son.
Off to the side is a fine coffin containing the body of your friend, the late Professor Lorrimor, and standing nearby is another woman, in a conservative black dress and grey cloak. Her eyes are red and puffy and her face is as grim as the rest of the scene. This is Kendra Lorrimor, the Professor's daughter.
Kendra says to the group as they arrive,"You all must be friends of my Father. I am Kendra, Professor Lorrimor's daughter. Thank you...th-thank you for being here today. With the way things are in town these days, not many people have come to the funeral, and no-one has come by the house to pay their respects to my dear father."
Kendra looks at each of you with a mixture of curiosity and relief, but she asks no questions, her grief still very evident on her face.
"I...I know that I don't know each of you, but would any of you be willing to be Pallbearers? There are only three men here...at least one of you?" At this, Kendra begins crying gently.
I am not sure that I am of a stature to help with such a task however do know that I thought the world of your father... man did he know how to have a good time...
Valeris nods solemnly to Kendra and slowly moves to the coffin. "M'Lady Kendra, I would be humbled to take the burden." Valeris takes his position and peers quizzically at Konstantin.
Nodding, Konstantin also takes a step forward: "I, too, would consider it an honor to assist the Professor one final time. Or, should my help not be necessary, I would very much like to walk alongside him."
My condolences Kendra. It would also be my honor. It is the least I could do for a man that taught me so much.
Valeris glances around the crowd in an attempt to see if he recognizes anyone or if anything is out of the ordinary.
Cade looks like he has a bee keepers suit on with scale male over it... it is pretty unusual
You understand that it would be bad form to deny Kendra her request, and that this is a very solemn ritual.
Kierra, with a look of sincere gratitude on her face, says to the group,"Thank you, and let us be off then. Father Grimburrow is already at the burial site...as tradition would have it."
Kendra takes the lead, and begins the somber procession down the road called "The Dreamwake" towards the Professor's grave.
The grey clouds and constant drizzle lend atmosphere to the dark day as the funeral procession marches on.
After several minutes of walking down "The Dreamwake", a loose gravel pathway winding through the cemetary, you are approaching the halfway point when you round a corner onto a seperate path called "The Eversleep".
In the distance you see, through the rain, that the way forward is being blocked by a group of about a dozen locals.
Leaning forward and speaking to Kendra in a manner so as to show respect, but still loud enough for all to hear...
With the utmost respect Kendra, Is there anything we should know about?...Maybe why that group is blocking the path ahead? Are these friends of your father or should we be concerned?
Hearing Sly's statement, Valeris peers ahead and sees the group blocking the way. He mumbles softly while running his free hand over his pocketed scarf, feeling reassured when he feels faint outline of the steel blade hidden inside.
Konstantin heard Sly's question, and saw Valeris' reaction out of the corner of his eye. His right hand occupied with the rail of the coffin, he surreptitiously moves his left to grasp his symbol of Iomedae.
Red tooth lets out a low growl grrrrr
assuming there is tall grass or trees to move into beside the path
Cade seems to kinda snap too out of his typical lackluster daze and gets a sly smile and slides with red out of view
red
cade
Upon seeing the reactions of his new found companions, Sly becomes even more troubled, and wonders what he could have possibly gotten himself into.
I see we are all a bit jumpy. Lets not over react just yet. I am sure this is just a misunderstanding of some sort.
"I have no idea, what they are doing there. If they are here for the burial, they should have joined us at the gate." Kendra replies flatly. Her face is twisted with apprehension.
The tallest of the locals, an elderly but wiry looking man, calls out to the procession, "That’s far enough. We been talking, and we don’t want Lorrimor buried in the Restlands. You can take him upriver and bury him there if you want, but he ain’t goin’ in the ground here!"
Kendra is swift to respond, her sadness swiftly transforming into
anger. “What are you talking about?” she cries out. “I made the arrangements with Father Grimburrow. He’s waiting for us! The grave’s already been...”
in that case cade would have moved out to the very front of the group and placed his hands on his great hammer
I dont understand why u gentlemen are apprehensive to let us lay such a good man to rest... if you will just let us pass we can discuss this after the ceremony
bc I know u are going to ask for it
With a quiet word, a small centipede crawls out of the folds in Valeris' cloak and slithers as discreetly as possible to Konstantin. Valeris mutters inaudibly.
The wiry man responds grimly, "You folk' don't seem t' unnerstand...We won't have no 'necromancer' buried in the same place as our kin. I suggest you move on out, while you still can. Folk round here 's pretty upset about this right now."
The man clears his throat with a snort and spits at the ground, a string of spittle lingering from his lip. He slowly wipes this away with the back of his hand and rubs it off on the stained sleeve of his coat, still glaring at Kendra and each of you.
The mob, a group of a dozen men, is armed with a mixture of pitchforks, rakes, hoes, sickles and hammers with some carrying torches. They are obviously hostile, and are casting venomous glances at the procession. Some shout insults along with the leader, "Be-gone you 'puny sheep-brained hag'!" another, "Harpy!" even some more violent," We'll see you in the ground too ya' reeking maggot!"
"Damned rain...of all the days to be runnin late. I hope I havn't missed the burial of my old friend." Dorthen mutters under his breath.
Dorthen trudges though the muddy road guiding his donkey down the road. Dorthen is covered in mud from his travel here. He clutches a small stone to as an offering. Off in the distance he can see that the funeral procession has already started. "Come on donkey, if we hurry we might make it" Dorthen gives a tug on the rope and the donkey reluctantly increases pace.
Looks like they are slowing down a little as they are approaching the gate. At first Dorthen believes it looks as if some of the town as arrived to see the professor off. As Dorthen draws nearer to the procession the true intentions of the crowd are revealed to him as he hears shouting. Dorthen slows and approaches the rear of the procession trying not to draw too much attention to himself.
"My good man, I and the rest of our party can certainly understand the desire to keep our loved ones' final resting places holy and sacrosanct. But regarding my well respected late colleague here, I can only believe that you are mistaken. I worked with Professor Lorrimor on many occasions, and while I cannot pretend to know everything about the man, I do know that he was an honorable man who valued the sanctity of life. Now I beseech you to let us pass and send our beloved friend and patriarch to his final rest"
Konstantin's honeyed words, and measured tone calm the thugs down enough that they sullenly disperse, still shooting venomous glances at the the group and Kendra, but leaving the cemetery nevertheless and allowing the procession to continue.
After the mob has retreated, Kendra asks no one in particular, "Necromancy?! Are they really that ignorant?"
Her eyes puffy, and holding back tears, she looks at each of you,"I...I'm so sorry you had to see that..."
Turning to Konstantin, "From my father's descriptions of you, and your way with words, I assume, you are Mister Sokolov. I am grateful for your intervention. I fear what they might have done, had you not been able to talk them down."
Some of the other people in attendance, Councilman Gharen Muricar, and Zokar Elkarid (the tavernkeeper), offer their input as well.
"You've done a good thing there friend."
"Aye, the loud one was Gibs Hephenus, the rest just local farmhands, all of low character. Glad you were able to avoid a scuffle, I don't think they was looking to just share words..."
Kendra dabs at her eyes, and then says"Let's put this behind us, I would see this dark hour finished. Come, Father Grimburrow is waiting."
The conflict now past, the procession continues up to the plot Kendra purchased for her father.
well sir it looks like u have a better way with words than I do. I am glad that there was no blood shed today... we are in a convenient place if something were to happen I guess.
The whole procession arrives graveside, and the mood has transitioned from tense back to somber. Father Grimburrow stands over the empty grave, with two disheveled gravediggers alongside.
The 6 people carrying the Professor's casket hand him off to the gravediggers, and no complications arise as Lorrimor is lowered into the open grave.
Father Grimburrow gives a short sermon, and then invites Kendra to say a few words about her father.
Kendra fights back tears and briefly recounts a few of her father's more courageous or selfless meoments and expresses her gratitude to everyone for coming. She then invites anyone else to share a few stories or remembrances.
Valeris slowly straightens his slouch, clears his throat and begins a quiet, almost inaudible recitation of a common prayer to Pharasma with a few subtle variations.
His voice becomes louder towards the end as he transitions a more common tone.
“Professor Lorrimor is…was an amazing man. He provided me with an opportunity to work along side him in his scholarly research which was an experience that drastically changed my life. He saw something in me which even I didn’t notice. His guidance not only provided me with a skill but…” Valeris’ voice cracks as his diction tapers off. He takes a moment to collect himself before continuing. “Without his help, I would not be here today. He pulled me away from a path that would put me here instead.”
With a slow turn towards the casket, Valeris makes an attempt to wipe the tears that welled up into his eyes then turns back to face the gathering. “Lorrimor was a man dedicated to knowledge. I’ve tried each day to emulate his devotion; his drive for understanding. The loss of Professor Lorrimor is tremendous but I believe it will be even worse if his love for discovery dies with him. I will be carrying his light forward. I hope, no, I pray that you will as well.”
Valeris turns back to face the casket and slowly places a hand on it’s damp surface. After a moment he slowly wanders off to the side of the gathering, unconsciously trying to not be seen.
As Valeris finishes up his words of wisdom, Sly decides it is his time to share a few words.
"Professor was like a father to me. He took me in, in a manner of ways, when my own father met his early demise at the hands of the undead. In his everlasting pursuit of knowledge, Professor quizzed me for months on end.
We became quite close as I was yearning to replace what I had lost emotionally. It was at that time that I decided to learn everything I could from this great man. I studied with professor through letters and frequent visits.
A brief pause to wipe a few tears and gather the courage to continue yields a loud crack of thunder and lightning just overhead. Seemingly meant to reinforce the levity of the situation....
Professor taught me everything I know about silencing the evil that is the undead. Just as I did with my Father, I will do now for the Professor. I will continue to fight in both their names, for the righteousness an good. No evil shall escape me.
so I have spent a lot of my time as muscle for higher and by sure happenstance I was on the road when I bumped into the late professor, we shared a fire and a fare bit of ale. He asked me where I was heading and I said that I was just moving from town to town. He asked what i did, one thing leads to another we get kicked out of 3 bars in one night and had to sleep on a one legged goat hurders land... needless to say I worked for him for free from that point on.
As Dorthen begins to speak he removes his helmet
"I knew The Professor from when I was a younger lad. I was a shadow for an expedition deep in ancient and abandoned Dwarven tunnels with the professor. While below there was a tremor and the professor was trapped in a room and my caster and many other members of the party dead and scattered. With the strength of Torag I was able to clear some of the rubble and free the professor but was too late for some that day."
He looks down and wipes a single tear with his bushy beard. Approaches the grave and places a stone on the casket
"Return to the earth my old friend."
Cade
Dorthen
After suffering through Valeris's disjointed and 'dramatized' speech, the crowd finds Sly's tribute to be somewhat aggresive and overly emotional.
Cade is stared at with some measure of distaste as he recounts his more "salacious" remembrances.
When it was time for Dorthen to speak, his deliberate and direct, heart-felt eulogy touched the gathered mourners with its sincerity.
well there is no since in staying here and being mopey. I am sure you all have stories of fun times with with the professor, lets go have a few drinks and share stories and play get to know you games
After the funeral service is over, the two gravediggers slowly fill in the hole where Lorrimor now lays. Kendra says her goodbyes to the other guests, and then turns to invite you all back to her father's house, (now hers) for a drink, as well as to hear the reading of his last will and testament.
One by one, you all shuffle in to the Lorrimor home, crowded bookshelves line every room, and there seems to be a thin layer of dust on most of the furniture. The house smells nice however, as Kendra has made some small amount of food to go with the tea she is brewing.
"Please, make yourselves feel at home. I have tea coming, but if you'd like something stronger let me know. Councilman Hearthmount should be here shortly to read father's will. I am going to retire to my bedroom for a short moment. Please, mingle...I'll be right back."
Kendra looks exhausted as she leaves the room once everyone has been served a drink, this has obviously been a heavy burden for the pretty young woman.
now that we are done with that awkward silence lets get to know eachother im cade puprider and this is my best friend red tooth
Ms. Lorrimor, I'm pleased to make your aquaintance, though I wish it was under better circumstances. I believe Valeris and I will be retiring to a local in this evening, but if there's anything I can do for you during your-our-bereavement, please do not hesitate to ask. Little would please me more than to be of some help to the good Professor's family.
Valeris idly scans the tome ensconced bookshelves while attempting to mask his emotions from his fellow pallbearers. With a slight nod to Kendra as she leaves the room, he reflects upon past experiences where Councilman Hearthmount might have been involved.
Making his way throughout the room, Sly makes note of the layer of dust throughout.
I wonder where and what the crazy old man has been studying as of late. Maybe he had gotten himself into a bit of trouble with the townsfolk.
Anyone here want to fill me in on why the professor was believed to be a Necromancer? It seems the town is shrouded in fear. I knew the professor as a man of his studies, even though they be dark studies at times, I never saw him as a Necromancer. He was the one who taught me the finer points of slaying the dead.
Sly is interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. Kendra, appearing seemingly out of no where answers it quickly.
"Ah, Councilman Hearthmount, you're right on time."
Hearthmount replies (rather sourly) "I am, as always...now if you please I am eager to get this over with."
As Hearthmount takes a seat in a large armchair, you quickly recognize him from the funeral. He is a rotund, many-chinned man. He dabs at the sweat on his brow with an elegant kerchief, which he places back in his rear pocket.
No great intuition is necessary to note that he doesn’t completely approve of strangers being involved in local matters, but he keeps his comments to himself, focusing his involvement entirely on the reading of Petros’s will.
Eyeing you each suspiciously, he produces a scroll case. He holds it out for everyone to see that the Professor's personal seal is unbroken. He then breaks the wax and opens the scroll case.
As he does this, a small but simple key falls out of the tube, clattering noisily onto the table. Undaunted by the key, Vashian begins to read the will.