Forgive me a moment but I need to make myself more comfortable. I know miss Kendra knows of my true nature...
Xaeken takes a moment to remove the various accoutrements that hides his true form, revealing beak, claws and feathers.
I am of a race known as Tengu, obviously uncommon to this part of the world. I find subterfuge assuages fear but if we are to spend the next month together I felt I should reveal to you my true form...besides, that mask is hot!
As the three of you set about the kitchen you are able to find well stocked supplies for tea service and snacks. Kendra emerges downstairs with a thick built trunk and sets it on one end of the kitchen table while the rest of you work to put out the food.
Kendra stalls at the chest, the key from the scroll case in hand, I confess I feel uneasy opening this...would one of you care to do the honors? She presents the key in the groups direction an expectant look on her face.
Adimov looks visibly disturbed for a fleeting moment by the revelation of the Tengu, and for a split second his eyes dart to a knife which sits eagerly on the nearby counter. But the moment passes. An unusual creature, but he's obviously friendly and was an acquaintance of the professor, he thinks to himself. "I've not seen your type before, Xaeken, but if Lorrimor called you a friend then I shall do the same."
"I'll do the honors, Miss Kendra." Adimov extends his hand and takes the key from Kendra. [b]"I suppose you should all stand back," he says, completely deadpan but followed with a wry grin. He sticks the key in the chest and twists.
Lorrent steps out of the cellar with a plate of food in hand.
Good news gents, I found some....
Lorrent halts in his step at seeing the true identity of the bird-man. He hesitates for moment then continues toward the table.
There are many strange things in this world, but I'm not sure which one is more suprising, the costume or the real thing.
He glances at Xaeken with wry grin.
Apologies, but does your kind eat salted pork?
After Kendra arrives with the chest, Lorrent waits expectantly for Adimov to open it.
Xaeken tilts his head at Lorrent as if considering the proposition of salted meat, I find my palate is not as discerning of meat. It all tastes much the same to me. But the heavy salt I will avoid, thank you for the offer.
Xaeken moves a cautious step away to comply with Adimov's request.
The key fits easily in the mechanism of the small lock and the chest opens with precision and ease. Within the chest is a stack of tomes; not surprising considering the request that Lorrimor had made of the group. What is surprising is that the top tome seems more like a well beaten journal wrapped with a cord underneath which a single slip of paper resides. On the paper a flourished but easily legible hand has left the instructions, READ ME NOW.
With a frown, Lorrent picks up the tome with the instructions unties the cord and opens to the first page.
The tome is, in fact, the journal of Lorrimor himself. The entries are numerous and written in a compact and efficient script. Despite this it is clear that a series of entries have been marked, and recently from the vibrant pigment of the red ink used:
Ten Years Ago:
The Whispering Way is more than just a cabal of necromancers. I see that now. Undeath is their fountain of youth. Uncovering their motivation does not place me at ease as I thought it might. Their desire to be eternal simply makes them more dangerous.
Two Months Ago:
It is as I had feared. The Way is interested in something here in Ravengro. But what could it be?
One Month Ago:
Whatever the Way seeks, I am now convinced their goal is connected to Harrowstone. In retrospect, I suppose it all makes sense; the stories they tell about the ruins in town are certainly chilling enough. It may be time to investigate the ruins, but with everyone in town already being so worked up about them, I’d rather not let the others know about my curiosity. There’s plenty of folks hereabouts who already think I’m a demonologist or a witch or something. Ignorant fools.
Twenty Days Ago:
It is confirmed. The Way seems quite interested in something—no, strike that—someone who was held in Harrowstone. But who, specifically, is the Way after? I need a list of everyone who died the night of the fire. Everyone. The Temple of Pharasma must have such a list.
Eighteen Days Ago:
I see now just how ill prepared I was when I last set out for the Harrowstone. I am lucky to have returned at all. The ghosts, if indeed they were ghosts (for I did not find it prudent to investigate further) prevented me from transcribing the strange symbols I found etched along the foundation—hopefully on my next visit I will be more prepared. Thankfully, the necessary tools to defend against spirits are already here in Ravengro. I know that the church of Pharasma used to store them in a false crypt in the Restlands at the intersection between Eversleep and the Black Path. I am not certain if the current clergy even know of what their predecessors have hidden down below. If my luck holds, I should be able to slip in and out with a few borrowed items.
Seventeen Days Ago:
Tomorrow evening I return to the prison. It is imperative the Way does not finish. My caution has already cost me too much time. I am not sure what will happen if I am too late, but if my theory is right, the entire town could be at risk. I don’t have time to update my will, so I’ll leave this in the chest where it’ll be sure to be found, should the worst come to pass.
"I mislike the sound of these entries," says Adimov, grimly.
"I feel I may have heard the Whispering Way spoken of in hushed tones before, though I can't say I know anything more about them than the name. But Lorrimor names them necromancers, and more, and that I cannot ignore."
He reaches into the chest and picks out some of the other tomes. "What else is in this box that Lorrimor so feared might fall into the wrong hands?"
As they read through Lorrimor's journal, Lorrent's face grows increasingly grim.
:
It would appear that Lorrimor finally got over his head. And this may help explian that mobs reaction.
Three tomes are bound together with a note that details delivery instructions of the works to Montaigne Crowl at Lepistadt University.
The first, known vaguely to Adimov but well to Lorrent (fitting given his expertise, is a text called On Verified Madness and features a jet black covers. The text is treaties on aberrations and other entities found on Golarion that possess ties to the Dark Tapestry, the name given to dark places between the stars in the night sky.
The second text,Serving Your Hunger is known to both Adimov and Lorrent as one of several books sacredt to Urgathoa. Lorrimor has made many notes in this book along the margins of various pages.
The third text in the bundle is known only to Adimov but is called The Umbral Leaves. This text is the central unholy book dedicated to the worship of Zon Kuthon. Of particular interest is this book's translation into the Common tongue, rare as the worshipers of that god tend to practice in relative secrecy. The pages have an odd texture and it is all written in red ink.
The fourth book, not bound like the others includes a small note that indicates it is to be delivered to one Embreth Daramid with details on reaching this individual's home in Lepistadt. The note is quite clear that such a delivery is to be discreet.
The rich purple cover contains a brass scarab set with a single eye in
its center. The book’s covers are rimmed in polished steel and clasped with a small but intricate lock, the keyhole of which appears to be for a key with a strange, triangular shaft. The key is nowhere to be found, and the lock appears to be especially sophisticated for its size.
None of you know what this book could be.
"This definitely explains the ire of that rabble. Were I to see any one of these books alone I would mark its owner for a practitioner of blackest evil. That the professor was not corrupted by these tomes is surely proof that he was a saint among men."
"Unfortunately the same cannot be said for most men. Obviously The Way had some hand in the professor's end, and unopposed will unleash some greater evil upon the world. I think I will need to pay a visit to Harrowstone myself, and soon."
Without a doubt. In his journal, Lorrimor named a crypt where we can find items to aid our investigation. And I believe that I may be of some help there. In the meantime...
Lorrent tucks Lorrimors journal into his belt and starts replacing the other tomes into the chest.
These need to be locked up and kept safe.
Well, obviously if you plan to go to this "Harrowstone" I will accompany you. I knew the Professor as a man dedicated to fighting darkness, he was no combatant though. I fear he sought to gather information when he should have gathered allies. Sad that all too late we are here to help him with this threat...
Kendra holds up her hand as the three of you discuss your plans, Gentlemen the day wears on, you certainly should leave any plans for a visit to the prison until the fullness of day is upon you... The womans face contorts gently into a frown, That said you should be cautious. IF you are to stay with me for the next month I would be ever so grateful if you could be...discreet about your suspicions. The prison is regarded as a site of evil and the townsfolk here are prone to judgement as you have seen. I would hate to have to leave my home under similar accusations that clouded my father's service. For now it is a few uneducated louts who sully my father's name but too many questions too fast in Ravengro will only make the town suspicious of your actions and hostile to me.
Kendra puts the other books in the chest. I have a place to hold this even more securely. My father's resources here at the house are vast and his knowledge was deep. Might I recommend you learn more of the prison and the town before you traipse into danger? I am a scholar by trade so I know that research has value. Harrowstone was surely haunted if my father felt the need to arm himself so and the spirits of the dead are difficult foes, or so my father said... Kendra begins to well up in earnest. she turns her back a moment to blow her nose and clean her face.
Turning after a moment she seems more composed, You are men of action and obvious skill. Do as you must. But if we are to be here a while...pray, do not neglect to connect with very townsfolk you are worried might be in danger...
The lady is right. Perhaps we should spend the morrow getting to know the town and it's people. If the Whispering Way has interest in here than we should move quickly, but catiously. I'd still like to talk to the man leading that rabble as well.
"I will not sit idly by why such evil lurks so near. But I appreciate that bold action will only alert these monsters that we suspect them, and rally the townsfolk against us. I will be patient, for now."
"In the meantime, the tea is growing cold. Let us slate our appetites, and then perhaps we might busy ourselves with a perusal of your library."
I don't think anyone here has suggested we sit by idly...but I agree that we must walk the narrow balance between diligent pursuit and subtle operation. I confess that my training makes me more suited to...direct confrontation...though I am not adverse to study as all those who study the arcane must spend some time with our "noses" in books from time to time...
Xaeken casts his dark eyes about the room looking over the copious shelves with a look that indicates he is not quite sure where to start.
The library of Lorrimor is voluminous. The man has managed to stuff into a single home a volume of texts that rivals many a temple, city library or small university. Though the topics vary it is easy to see that with a little planning and a clear eye you could gain insight into a number of topics.
Well, we might as well get started. Harrowstone seems to be a place to start so I'll see what the professor already has.
"And I'll see if I can find anything in Ravengro's history that might shed light on the current situation."
Harrowstone was built in 4594. Ravengro was founded at the same time as a place where guards and their families could live and that would produce food and other supplies used by the prison. In 4661 there was a fire that killed all of the prisoners and most of the guards, destroyed a large portion of the prison’s underground eastern wing, but left most of the stone structure above relatively intact.
The prison’s warden perished in the fire, along with his wife, although no one knows why she was in the prison when the fire occurred. A statue commemorating the warden and the guards who lost their lives was built in the months after the tragedy—that statue still stands on the riverbank just outside of town.
Lorrent relays the information he gleened to the rest of the group.
I can certainly see the professors interest in the place. We should look more into it.
While occasionally running into reference about the prison Admimov find more luck with details about the Whispering Way. In fact, in his search for historical information Adimov is able to collate a stunning amount of detail on the Way, perhaps more verified truth on the group than many have seen in some time:
The Whispering Way is a sinister organization of necromancers that has been active in the Inner Sea region for thousands of years.
Agents of the Whispering Way often seek alliances with undead creatures, or are themselves undead. The Whispering Way’s most notorious member was Tar-Baphon, the Whispering Tyrant, although the society itself has existed much longer than even that mighty necromancer.
The Whispering Way itself is a series of philosophies that can only be transferred via whispers—the philosophies are never written or spoken of loudly, making the exact goals and nature of the secretive philosophy difficult for outsiders to learn much about.
Exact details on the society are difficult to discern, but chief among the Whispering Way’s goals are discovering formulae for creating liches and engineering the release of the Whispering Tyrant. Agents often travel to remote sites or areas plagued by notorious haunts or undead menaces to perform field research or even to capture unique monsters. Their symbol is a gagged skull, and those who learn too many of the Way’s secrets are often murdered, and their mouths mutilated to prevent their bodies from divulging secrets via speak with dead.
Adimov adds that Lorrimor apparently fell face first when he died, and Harrowstone is "supposedly" haunted. It may be that this is the Whispering Way's base of operations, or a site of importance to them.
Well it seems clear that we have reason to suspect foul play in the Professor's death but what to do? Are there other strangers about or are we to assume that someone from the town itself killed the man?
Lorrent turns to Kendra.
I don't wish to bring you into this any more than necessary, but do you know of any other new comers in town? Or perhaps someone who might that would be willing to talk to us? We've already recieved a rather chilly reception and I'd prefer to gather information without ostrasizing ourselves further if possible. And I will of course speak to the clergy in Our Lady's church.
"To the question of who we might suspect, I do not think we can answer that question without speaking to the townsfolk. And after our encounter in the graveyard we are probably not well liked."
Adimov looks out the kitchen windows at the omnipresent rain that had been falling steadily since before dawn. "Evening services will be soon, I imagine. And I think I could do with a walk about the town to stretch my legs, after spending all this time pouring over books. I might even exchange a pleasantry or two with some of the locals."
"Perhaps we can each attend to one task or another this evening, and if all goes well we might pay a visit to Harrowstone itself tomorrow, in the light of day."
Perhaps, but if the professor was not prepared for what he encountered then we may wish to take some time and ensure that we are. The tools from the false crypt of Pharasma for example. If Lorrimor found them, then where are they now. If not, then we can travel to the crypt ourselves.
"I suppose we should have a look around this crypt, then."
WEird I lost a post...
Lorrent figures that dead of night (midnight or so) is ideal, Pharasma has rituals at dusk and dawn and the Restlands are a Pharasamite graveyard so there is surely to be some cleansing and purifying. That late hour should also minimize foot traffic between the Lorrimor house and the crypt.
As the group discuses the best way to get into he crypt Lorrent chimes in.
There may be no need to sneak. As an inquisitor of Pharasma, I may be able to gain us entry.
Kendra nods as if that comment decides things, Best to wait until the morning for such things. I will show you to your accommodations.
Kendra gets you each a room and shows you the lay of the house. You are able to wrap up your evening needs/meals and rise the next morning refreshed.
Deciding to leave Kendra behind you make your way to the church as the sun enters its full rise. Standing at the gates you knock on the doors and await a reply. A moment later there is a shuffle and the creak of old doors. A surprisingly young (and attractive) young woman, wearing acolyte robes in purple and black pokes her upper torso past the doors and looks at the three of you, Can I help you?
As the acolyte answers the door, Lorrent steps forward, his symbol of Pharasma in full view.
Greetings young sister. We seek an an audiance with the head of this church. We have some urgent business to attend to.
The girl looks the group over warily, first and foremost at Xaeken but then to Adimov and finally lands on Lorrent. Whether it is a lack of decorum or simple youth she fully examines the cleric up and down her face forming a frown as she takes in the sight, Ah begging your pardon but who are you?
I am Inquisitor Lorrent Baldin of Our Lady and I ask for this church's assistance in an urgent matter that my friends and I are investigating.
The woman sort of repeats the name to herself, spending a lot of time on the word "inquisitor" until it seems like she remembers something that she had not remembered before. A flush creeps up her cheeks as she seems to suddenly become almost afraid of Lorrent. Stammering, she offers an apology, MMhmm...mmmyy mistake, sir. I will fetch someone for you!
Instead of inviting you in however she closes the door. It is easy to hear a bar being slid into place with a resounding *thunk*.
Xaeken offers a slight grunt at the exchange. Tilting his head the tengu speaks with his soft Chelaxian accent, Do followers of your faith often respond to you in this manner?
"I find that the faithful often prefer to sit safely behind thick stone walls when trouble rears its head," says Adimov.
"Present company not included, obviously," he adds, nodding at Lorrent. "So how long do we wait out in the cold?"
Lorrent narrows his eyes at the door.
I do not take kindly to having the doors of my own church shut in my face. However, there's obviously more going on here.
Lorrent ponders the girls reaction.
I will wait here a moment if you two wish to circle around and perhaps find a side door.