PFS: AP: Carrion Crown (CORE!) Table 2 (Inactive)

Game Master R D

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Hey Everyone, I am rolling up a 1st level druid.

Cheers

Carrion Crown: Chapter One: The Haunting of Harrowstone: Part One: The Last Will and Testament of Petros Lorrimor

You (the party members) know Petros Lorrimor. Or, rather, you knew him. You've just received a letter from his daughter, Kendra, that he recently and unexpectedly passed away. You've been invited to their home town, Ravengro, to pay your respects. You are also named in his will.

Beyond his renown at the University of Lepidstadt, beyond the fact that he was a scholar researching the forces of evil and methods to better combat them, he was your friend. (Players are free to develop the exact nature of this friendship on their own.) He was a true friend--the kind of "true" that is precious and rare--a dependable ally.

For most of your travel the weather was mild. Until you came to the borders of Ustalav. There, the weather grew dark and unsettled. The chronic fog and rain make the roads sloppy and slow with mud. They mute some noises with their dampness, while other noises seem to randomly echo beyond the bounds of what should be normal.

And the noises. There's always some creature or other to be heard nearby--baying or growling or panting or tearing into the flesh of some freshly caught prey...

As you approach Ravengro's cemetery, The Restlands, you notice the weather relent slightly. You have had no chance to change, and you still wear the clothing (or armor) in which you have traveled. There are several others who appear road-worn. It is clear that these are also Professor Lorrimor's friends summoned here from other parts. (This is how the party members meet!)

There are a few others who look like locals. Among this second group are a young woman dressed in black who seems wracked with grief and loss. Clearly, this is Kendra Lorrimor. Along with her are three men, a woman, and a boy in his teens. They've been waiting for your arrival to lay Petros Lorrimor to rest.

There's a coffin--simple but dignified, just as you imagine Petros would have wanted.

Kendra Lorrimor welcomes you:

"Friends. Thank you for coming. Let's get started. Are there any among you who wish to serve as my father's pallbearers?"

That was very quick, Dolgarth thinks to himself. I jus' get here, an' they want me ta carry th' old man's casket. Not that he a big problem with the task, but he is surprised to see the Lorrimor family acting so hastily like this. Distraught, most likely.
"Reckon I'll help out," Dolgarth mumbles, stepping forward. "'S th' least I c'n do fer th' old man, after all we've been through."

This is Thistlebane, btw. My character will be Blackheath, a bard. I will add his info to the profile shortly -- posting from a mobile device atm.

"Aye, in this instance 'tis better to serve than be served. The Professor deserves a proper send-off and I brought two shoulders just in case: one for bearing and one to cry on."

As unusual as the man's speech may be, his appearance is even more odd. He is tall and athletic in build, and wears dark leather armor covered in small, spiked studs. His gauntlets, also spiked, while coordinating nicely, only deepen the impression of subdued violence implied by his gear -- an implication sealed by the silhouette of a comically oversized sword, mercifully wrapped in cloth, which he carries across his back.

His features are of a type generally described as "classically handsome" -- though is that a hint of Elven blood in the ears and eyes? Sadly, his good looks are obscured by his most unnerving trait: he wears the full white facepaint of a mime or jester. Though obviously originally applied with care, the make-up has run either from rain or tears.

The armored harlequin bends in a genteel bow and says:
"Blackheath the Monster Slayer, at your service."

Players, take your time getting your characters set up and join when you can. The RP at this point is mostly to establish flavor and tone.

Also, could you please give a brief description (maybe a sentence or two?) about how your character knew Petros Lorrimor. Fee free to ask me questions about this NPC if you need ideas.

after i complete my character ill will post RP and then add my background to help the story GM

I took the Chance Savior trait from the Carrion Crown player's guide, and if that is legal, I'll embroider on its suggested connection to Petros Lorrimor. If it isn't valid for the Core campaign, I can just sub the Reactionary web trait in (it's the same bonus) and I'll just make up a connection. Does that work?

The dwarf sighs heavily, his beard rustling. "I di'n't know Petros fer too long, 'specially fer human stan'drds. He taught he a lot 'bout fightin' evil, mostly undead, sometimes even with evil. He even broke th' curse on me armor without any reward 'r askin'." Dolgarth fingers the scales and studs of his armor, all of which are shoes like tiny skulls.
This makes sense, right? He was a professor, after all, and his PathfinderWiki entry said he fought evil and taught his methods, sometimes evil.

Blackhealth, you're good with the trait. I specifically allowed the Carrion Crown Player's Guide. :-)

Dolgarth, Petros Lorrimor is called out as being Neutral Good. He studied about evil, but did not use evil. From the entry you cited: Petros had used his knowledge and research to learn about the forces of evil to better combat them.

Oops, I was looking at 'studies evil to better combat it' and must've misread it.

Blackheath nods appreciatively at the Dwarf's story.

"I met the good professor under unusual circumstances. When I was but a child, the magistrate asked me, 'Son, what shall you be when you grow up?' to which I replied, 'A monster slayer, sir!' and he slapped his hand over one eye and said, 'Then you must be a fool!'

"As he was a learned man and had some understanding of life, I took him at his word, and that very day I set out to study foolishness, comedy, japes, and jests. I wandered all over world, but though I learned to kill an audience and rupture an ego, not one monster-slaying trick did I discover!

"Finally, at the end of my tether, I came upon a well and decided to drown myself -- for it is better to die a total fool than to live an incomplete monster slayer-- but what bad luck! Someone had beaten me to it and was already drowning in the well! Even in suicide I was the last in line!

"As it happens, 'twas Professor Lorrimor in the well. He had been roughly deposited there by some bandits whilst doing his dangerous fieldwork. How fortunate for him and for me! I wasted no time in dropping a wishing-coin into the well in thanks, before hoisting him up, shivering and sopping.

"In gratitude, he was able to share with me some of his knowledge and suggest paths and experiences I might seek out. He was a great mentor to me, and a cherished guiding figure. When first we met, I hauled him from the water, alas, we meet again and I lay him in the ground!"

Blackheath thumps his chest in anguish, and then whispers: "If you liked that story it will be 2 coppers, please. Monster slaying just doesn't pay the rent these days."

A tall man comes up the hill, he is wearing a heavy crimson coat, his head raped in a scarf of the same color, a scimitar and shield can bee seen on his back. The makings and the design of his weapons mark him clearly as a worshiper of Sarenrae, I have a link to googledocs of how my character looks hope this helps wo the help you in interacting with him ^_^

The man walks up to Kendra, giving her a hug

"oh Kendra it's been some time since we last saw each other, sad that this is the reason how are you holding up with all this. He was always a good man and helped get passed a dark place in my life...but anyhow you know all that...on this sad day you still look as lovely as back then...of course I will be one of the few to help him and his last journey be for he meet the dawnflower. ..a sad day indeed. "

the man in crimson turns to the rest of the few gathered here

"my apologies, I am Gravleon Sangre cleric to the everlight, and an old friend to Kendra and the good man laid before us..."

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Dolgarth sighs. "Yes, a sad day indeed. Hope 'e finds 'is peace, we needn't be sad s'long as he's got that much." He sniffs audibly, and decides to change the subject. "Me name's Dolgarth, I studied under this good man. So, how'd ye know 'im, Gravleon?" In an undertone (not that Dolgarth would mind anyone hearing), he mutters, "If'n I ever find th' bastards what killed 'im, I won't kill 'em. I may need ta find a worse fate than that, even if th' Professor wouldn't want it. No one does this ta my friends."
When I noticed we could use Campaign traits, I decided to replace Reactionary with Teacher's Pet. Also, is this campaign otherwise like PFS, namely in relation to starting gold?

Gravleon raises a brow then nods

"I did study with him as well, spent quite a few years in his home learning how to end the horrid existence of the undead...he help me with entry into the church, Kendra and I used to be good friends although time and distance have made me a stranger to her I do hope to stay and bring the light back into her life. In this dark place having a bright light like her I just cant allow to dim..He said with clear fondness to Kendra in his voice

she has grown more beautiful over the years...when did that happen...Gravleon thought to him self

"Thank you Dolgarth, Blackheath, Gravelon. I do appreciate your support this day."

Yep, starting GP is 150 for everybody.

"tis a bitter sweet time, that after all these years this tragic time is why we see each other again"

is that ok? That I made it so I knew her when I was spending time with the professor, like friends in youth but lost touch^_^

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is that ok? That I made it so I knew her when I was spending time with the professor, like friends in youth but lost touch^_^

Yep. That's fine.

So far, we have posts from Dolgarth, Gravleon, and Blackeath. We still need to hear from mcruggiero and Vandel. Then we'll proceed.

A man in his early twenties walks over the hill. He walks briskly, but his hands, he angles a shard of glass and what appears to be a weed. Weaving between his strides, a lion pounces on a dragonfly. The insect darts from the beast.

The hilt of scimitar and the points of a wooden shield protrude from his cloak.

Suddenly, he stops about twenty yards from the service.

Without looking up, the man gasps, kneels, and lifts his cloak. Worn and patched hide armor covers his youthful, vibrant frame.

He reaches into his backpack. The lion chases the insect into the brush.

He scribbles some notes into a re-purposed spell book, carefully presses the specimen into its pages, smiles, and looks up.

His ruddy smile vanishes.

"What's this? My invitation states that the service is to be in four hours. Who? Why..."

His words stammer off. Then he stands and slings he backpack over one shoulder and marches over to Kendra.

"Kendra is it? Your father spoke of you."

Without turning from her:

"Kiki, get over here."

Ray, did Kiki (the lion) see anything while chasing the dragonfly?

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

Blackheath looks from the lion to the dwarf and then to the reflection of his own painted face in the eyes of the rest of the mourners.

"It seems the circus is in town," he observes.

Gravleon turns to the half-elf

"This is not the time for jokes have some respect for the recently passed..and you clearly are late get that beast in check and give your last goodbys to our friend that is why you are here now act like it!"

He said with growing anger in his words

At that the clown mutters under his breath, "And you must be the fire-eater."

But he nods politely and then whispers to the man with the lion: "We had better listen, else I fear we'll be digging our own graves before the day is out."

Kiki's fierce eyes scans the crowd. The beast jams its muzzle into Graveleon's knee and licks his fingers, purring.

"Monty Pinguard, professor of regigno and putridus. Friends, I am so sorry that I am late. I intended to arrive early, beyond the mandates of civility. Yes, this is rather awkward now that we are all assembled, yet nonetheless, the rigors of the naturalist demands that...well...science be satisfied."

"I had Petros sign a note, of course, stating his intentions to serve science."

Monty kneels, lifts his cloak with a flourish and opens his backpack. Inside the bag a veritable herbalists shop of dried flowers, roots, and herbs.

"I must have left the note by the invitation?"

A sparrow flies out of the bag. Monty searches deeper into the mass of samples.

Kiki jumps after the bird.

Blackheath turns to the audience and, in a Shakespearean aside, says, "And I bet you thought I was the weird one."

I think Monty wins best introduction, lol!

"My painted friend, there is nothing strange about collecting spores and molds."

Monty pulls out a box turtle with both hands. A flag of parchment hangs out of the turtle's mouth. It nibbles a cursive P.

"Oh, Kendra. I am sorry, but I am sure you understand. It seems little Terrapene absaloma here ate Petros' signature."

(in a gruff voice) "'It isn't every day you attract a suicidal clown as a student,' Petros would say."

Monty holds the little turtle to Kiki's nose. The beast licks the turtle's shell. Monty kisses the turtle, places it down, and almost mechanically, it waddles away.

"Kiki please track this turtle until it makes it back to the scrub. Good bye little friend.

(to Kendra) with all of the tasty things in this bag, would you believe he would eat this parchment?"

Monty shakes the nibbled parchment over his head.

"S'truth, most who devote their lives to the fight against the forces of evil are often either suicidal or clowns, but the combination --I admit -- is a rarity."

Kiki doesn't notice anything unusual in the bushes.

Kendra is taken aback. "Welcome Professor Pinguard. I'm afraid that we've already locked and sealed the coffin. Do you wish to serve as one of my father's pallbearers?"

mcruggiero, could you please add summary stats to your character the way that the others have?

"Yes, of course I understand that Petros' request is strange. But he was a devote of truth and science. Yes, opening the coffin is a touch eccentric, perhaps — but essential! And what are a few bolts and nails to the naturalist?"

Monty fishes a burlap bag of cotton swabs out of his backpack.

I assure you Professor Lorrimor was passionate about the flora and fauna of the recently deceased. Now madam, if you would please step aside, this will take but a moment.

Monty steps toward the coffin. The turtle steps into the brush. Kiki rolls on his back and purrs.

"As good Petros has been so professionally and thoroughly secured, it seems like a waste to undo the coffinmaker's work. Might I offer my own post-mortem samples as a substitute in advance? I can assure you that my spores will be of the utmost scientific interest, and I have specifically left instructions barring my remains from being buried. Instead, I've asked for my corpse to be tossed on some handy dustpile as a warning against vanity."

"Yes Blackheath, I would greatly appreciate samples. It is commendable that your body serve science even in your, um, absence.

Monty turns to the crowd.

"I am sure that Petros would have loved if everyone would sign a release document allowing me to sample their spores and molds.

Monty turns back to Blackheath

"Nevertheless, my colleague left specific instructions. He was a true friend--the kind of "true" that is precious and rare--An ally in life, and yes, even in death. Petros was the sort who gave little care about the ornate prerequisites of death. Help me, Blackheath.

Monty flings an arm around Blackheath. A touch of white pigment stains the professor's cloak.

We shall collect spores together.

“Nothing would give me greater joy, good sir. I see that, in you, science has found a devoted follower, and I applaud your hobby – dare I call it a monomania?—from the depth of my being. What is a spore between two friends? A mold by any other name still suppurates as sweetly. And yet…”

Blackheath leans in closely and whispers meaningfully to Pinguard: “And yet, my dear Professor, what cost to science were she deprived of such a student – oh, aye! Don’t look now but I fear for your safety in this present company. No! Don’t stir your eyes – but I assure you, we are more likely to have our skulls caved in than for that swab to find its mark. And what a loss that would be to research, to knowledge, to endeavour with a U!”

The clown places one hand over his heart and declares, “By all that is good, I would help you in this grand, if morbid, project, but taking into account local feeling, the imbalance in disposition exhibited by men at funerals, the instinctual urge to flight or fight in the face of death – taking these things as context, and acknowledging that we two – you and I… and perhaps the lion – are the only wholly rational individuals present, it would be the height of folly for us to force a confrontation between cold logic and hot sentiment that might only end in both our spores being harvested prematurely.

“Pray, join us in hoisting the casket, and perhaps some hint of mold shall dust your shoulders. Petros was a man of science, but he was a man of the world. He would have understood that sometimes one must bow to custom no matter how frivolous it may seem.”

Dolgarth shrugs his Urgrosh off of his shoulders and wraps a bandolier strap around it, so it is attached to his front instead of his back for the dragging of the casket. Listening to the clown and the crazy scientist talk, he can't think much else besides, These people're crazy.

Gravleon hears the two exchange words

this is allowed to continue will get them strung up and burned for necromancy here

he walks up and the low tone tells the men

" now we all knew the professor was one for the odd quirks , but if you continue I'm all this line around these people. you could get you killed I don't know how much time you spent in this city but I know folks around here don't like talk of messing around with the recently departed and take it as nothing less than necromancy. Now I suggest you smile and apologize to some here as you can see anger and fear is already on a couple of faces. Please don't mistake me for them true I am no scientist but if it were not for the years I spent with him I would not know how to end existence of the undead as well as I do now "

Turning back to every one " Kendra I think everyone's here unless , I'm mistaken let's not keep your father waiting I will be helping him make his final journey "

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OK. I'll presume that all party members wish to be pallbearers. The other mourners (the NPCs) won't allow the coffin to be opened.

Once the pallbearers have been chosen, Kendra, as the deceased's closest living relative, has the job of leading the somber procession along the Dreamwake—a gravel pathway that winds through the cemetery. (Those serving as pallbearers are considered to have both hands full as they carry the heavy coffin up the road.)

As the procession reaches the halfway point along the Dreamwake, rounding a corner onto a path called the Eversleep, you see that the way ahead is blocked by a group of a dozen surly looking locals.

One of them speaks: "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? I arranged it with Father Grimburrow. He’s waiting for us! The grave's already been..."

The local interrupts her: "You don’t get it, woman. We won’t have a necromancer buried in the same place as our kin. I suggest you move out while you still can. Folks are pretty upset about this right now."

Kendra has a response to this, but I want to pause here and give you all an opportunity to say or do something. Remember, you're all carrying a heavy coffin.

Monty looks around from clown, to dwarf, to coffin.

His eyes water.

I...um...

He grabs a large grape leaf from his cloak and wipes a tear from his face.

The decision, Kendra, is ultimately yours. I know...his request might seem odd to some

Monty eyes shoot to Dolgarth.

His friends would help, I imagine, open the coffin with the greatest of care. I will quickly swob his face and ears with the respect of a scientist. But...this ritual is for you — more than it is for me,

Monty motions to the crowd.

for them, and yes,

Lines of tears fall down the scientist's cheeks.

even for Petros and the science we both loved.

Monty chokes on his words.

Please Kendra, I beg you, let Professor Lorrimor continue his work through the hands of his friend. Let me samples the spores from his ears and face.

Monty drops the grape leaf. Kiki bites it with his back molars. The leaf crunches and disintegrates.

Monty looks around from clown, to dwarf, to coffin.

His eyes water:

.

I...um...

He grabs a large grape leaf from his cloak and wipes a tear from his face.

The decision, Kendra, is ultimately yours. I know...his request might seem odd to some

Monty eyes shoot to Dolgarth.

His friends would help, I imagine, open the coffin with the greatest of care. I will quickly swob his face and ears with the respect of a scientist. But...this ritual is for you — more than it is for me,

Monty motions to the crowd.

for them, and yes,

Lines of tears fall down the scientist's cheeks.

even for Petros and the science we both loved.

Monty chokes on his words.

Please Kendra, I beg you, let Professor Lorrimor continue his work through the hands of his friend. Let me samples the spores from his ears and face.

Monty drops the grape leaf. Kiki bites it with his back molars. The leaf crunches and disintegrates.

I think we are already passed this ^_^

"please this family has been threw enough, and anyone that knew this good man in life knows he spent a good portion of his light to end the evil of the undead and a cleric to the ever light. I swear this to you there is nothing close to necromancy in this man we Carrie in our arms"

deplo: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21 watch it be a low roll =^^=

Edit
wow I so thought I would roll low awesome ^_^
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Blackheath slows but does not relax his grip on the casket. He nods in agreement with Gravleon's words.

“Friends, you’re welcome to a funeral, not a fight.” The clown somberly makes eye-contact with as many of the locals as he can. His expression beneath his facepaint is inscrutable.

“We’ve come to bury a good man, and he who speaks the word ‘necromancer’ speaks recklessly. Let dark words not eclipse in death, the light of he who in life set his face against evil. For though Petros Lorrimor was many things– a loving father, a gentle teacher, a stalwart defender of the good – a necromancer he was not.

“Petros devoted his life to the study of defeating evil! Is the neighbor who helps quench your housefire an arsonist because he has learned something of flame? Is the physician a plaguebearer because he has unlocked the secret of sickness that it might be cured? Is the knight a brigand because he takes up arms in defense of the common folk?

“Ask any one of us who carry this casket if he has met a man more honorable, more merciful, more good-hearted than Petros Lorrimor and he will truthfully tell you ‘no.’

“While you slept safe at night, you did so under his watch, under his protection, under his care. Now that he is fallen, that responsibility falls to all of us to shoulder – and even so, we now, on our shoulders bring him to his much deserv’d rest. This ground has taken many men worse than Petros Lorrimor, but few better.”

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28

Then Blackheath turns his face from the crowd as if from grief but, using the casket as cover, he looks meaningfully at Monty and silently mouths: Don't mention the spores.

Vandel's grip tightens on the casket, and mutters a few curses under his breathe.

Dolgarth, Monty: do you wish to say anything to the surly locals?

Sorry about the delay, I think we're in quite the different time zones.
"Necromancer? Petros? Yer demented if'n ye think 'e's ever used necromancy,"" Dolgarth growls. He prepares to slide the casket off of his shoulders as gently as possible. "An' if'n I have t' fight my way t' th' graveyard for 'im, I will, make no mistake. Wha's gotten inta you people?"

Keeping his grip firm on the casket

" what are you doing the man has passed on we do not need to disgrace his memory with any acts of aggression. these people are scared also we tired some of them might be a little far gone and drink, but that is no reason to defile the memory of this good man I'll stay steady and you good men please move out of our way"

Gravleon said to the dwarf
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Blackheath smiles at the dwarf. "That's the spirit! I was once in a bar in Absalom and I saw a dwarf wielding a giant blood-stained axe, and I said to the barkeep, 'What's that about?' and the barkeep replied: 'Oh, that's a Dwarven diplomat.' And so I said: 'Everyone knows that, but who is the little bearded man swinging the diplomat?'"

The clown hopes that a little laughter might break the tension.

Perform: comedy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

"I'm not one for jokes at a time like this..but I have never heard anything quite as true as that...but now please if you will" gravleon said indicating for them to move

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Vandel lets out a short chuckle at the clown's joke, as he does he quietly drawing his sap and tries to keep it hidden in his free hand. Then softly asks Kendra, "Maybe we could take a different route?"

Sleight of Hand:1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27
Knowledge(local):1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18 To find out if they have any laws on there side or if this is a group of misguided fools.

Vandel, earlier you wrote that you were joining the other pallbearers. If you're helping to carry the coffin, you have no hands free to draw a sap.

Okay just ignore that then, I thought we were holding with one arm each since we have 3 str 16 adventurers carrying it.

Vandel: I know what you mean. Just to let you know where I'm coming from, the scenario says that: "Characters serving as pallbearers are considered to have both hands full as they carry the heavy coffin up the road." I guess you're being very careful and respectful with your friend's remains. I should also warn you that putting the coffin down counts as a full round action for all participating pallbearers.

Gravleon and Blackheath, it sounds like you're trying to be diplomatic. Is that correct? If so, could you please give me your rolls?

Gravleon and Blackheath, it sounds like you're trying to be diplomatic. Is that correct? If so, could you please give me your rolls?

My Diplomacy check should appear in the earlier diplo-speech post. The result was 28. I did a Perform comedy check earlier for the dwarf-joke but that was just so people would know to laugh. It was a 23 result.... though, if the angry locals enjoyed it and wish to tip me a few coppers before clubbing me to death, I wouldn't be against it.

EDIT:

I think Gravleon's earlier diplomacy check result was 21 from when he first spoke to the locals.