Jaru brushes past the blustering wizard to stand before the crowd. "Townspeople, Townspeople. Please listen and forgive this well intentioned if clumsy man. Yes, it is true that a dark deed was done this night, but do not let your imaginations run wild. I am doing everything I can to work with Father Grimburrow and the Sheriff to end the vicious pranks that have occurred over the past few nights."
"Please be patient and we will soon catch those responsible and bring them to justice."
Simeon harranges the mob. It's well reasoned. It's well argued. It's impassioned.
And it's doing no good whatsoever.
Father Toth!, cries out a woman, Save us from evil an' devilment.
His speech calms the crowd but it's clear more and more people are gathering around Kendras house in a confused hubbub of muttering.
.
BACK TO YOUR BEDS! he roars at the mob. He and the deputy start pushing people down the street Away with you - I'll sort this lot - get off home wit' you.
Order is roughly restored and further bolstered by the arrival of Father Grimburrow, the head acolyte and Vester the deputy, though they have the wisdom to just give quiet assurances rather than get involved or make inquiries as to the undead.
In a few minutes the street is empty though this as much to do with the cold of the early spring morning as much as anything else.
Order restored, streets cleared, the sheriff asks the most popular question of the evening.
Just what the hell is going on?
Jaru thanks the local representatives of law and order and beckons them into the house where they may talk free of lurking eavesdroppers.
Once inside, Jaru shakes his head sadly, "Professor Lorrimor's body has returned, in the most defiled state possible. He has been reanimated by necromancy... Who or what would do such a vile thing? We have reason to believe a terrible cult has reared its head like a cobra hidden in the water jar- we believe it is the Whispering Way."
Baradlon stays inside the house. He's in a daze, just staring at the blood soaked shroud that covers his handiwork. "We need to get this thing out of here..." he finally says quietly to whoever is in the parlor/entryway.
Father Grimburrow steps across the threshold and uncovers the body and then the head, frowning deeply.
The sheriff gawps like a yokel and Riff the deputy turns white as a sheet before turning to vomit.
This is the worst sort of sacrilege. How did he arrive and was anyone hurt by the creature?
Jaru shakes his head. "Not physically, Nighteyes quickly struck down the heresy, but it came knocking on the door in the middle of the night and Kendra answered. She is badly shaken and may not recover from the shock. Lament is tending to her right now."
Simeon watches Jaru and the local authorities calm and then disperse the crowd.
"Reprobates!" he mutters as he follows them back inside.
At Nighteye's comment, "Indeed, a most careful examination is in order. " he says eyeing the shroud with interest.
He then turns to the Sheriff "Sheriff, if that rabble outside didn't destroy all evidence, I think that his apparition may have left quite a distinct path, one yourself or your men might track to its origin?"
We can try, Sheriff Caeller says doubtfully, clearly shaken by what he is seeing. We'll discuss this black magic stuff later... this is more important right now... there may be others.
Riff, run back to the jail for some blades and spears and get your tail back here as fast as you can, he tells his pale and clearly disturbed deputy before he and Vester begin looking over the hard packed dirt street.
Meanwhile Father Grimburrow approaches the Elf.
How are you feeling? Did he wound you?, the old man asks in a gruff no nonsense manner.
His eyes are penetrating and knowing.
"Well, I just cut one of my best and only friends, and foster father's head off after he attacked the house and his own daughter whom he commissioned me to defend from beyond the grave. How do you think I feel youngling? I feel mad!" It's unclear whether the elf means angry or insane.
The priest nods knowingly.
It is no easy thing but you did it right, he lays an old hand on Baradlons shoulder.
Pharasma can help you ease some of your pain - see me after you break fast in the morning. I will be prepared for you then.
The old priest turns back to Jaru.
How is Kendra being tended to? Is she in a catatonic state? How does she act?.
He shakes his head.
Best I see for myself - aid me young Toth.
He shuffles into the house and leans on Jaru's arm, letting him be guided to Kendra's room.
The Whispering Way? You are sure of this? Tell me what you know and quickly, he mutters to Jaru quietly and under the hearing of others as he is led to Kendra's room.
Jaru looks back a moment toward the lounge, "Perhaps I underestimated the encounter's effect on Nighteyes."
His attention returns to his fellow clergyman. "I had never heard of them before, but we've been given access to the Professor's journals and there is much mention of them. The wizard also seems to have an, um, almost unhealthy fascination."
"From what I gather, they are a cult of necromancers that would cheat Pharasma by assuming an undead state through the use of unholy magics. They seek forbidden knowledge from the dead and undead and even wish to release the great lich which Simeon claims once ruled this land. I have forgotten his name."
Jaru pauses, "It is rumored that the cult crushes the jaws of its victims so that the corpse may never reveal their secrets. The Professor's lower face was totally destroyed. Yet another sign of the cult's involvement."
"The journals mention a secret vault in the Restlands. I wonder if perhaps the Professor's remains should be interred there until this cult is destroyed to prevent any further defilement."
The conversation on the old priests part is hushed.
Tar Barphon. The Whispering Tyrant - an undead abomination that scarred this land so deeply that even centuries afterwards, the signs of his rule are still carved into our very natures. As for a 'Secret Vault'? I have no knowledge of any secret vault...
He stops speaking and pauses outside of Kendra's door, then goes in. The medicine is starting to take effect though the young woman is still babbling and weeping. Lament is doing what she can to comfort her.
I'll need to see her in a few days. Assuming her mind isn't broken, I have some blessings of Pharasma that may help but for now warmth, comfort and above all, no more additional shocks are called for... I'll tend your companion after dawn.
Father Grimburrow gives Lament a rare smile.
You are doing fine. How are you called small one?
Meanwhile back on the streets...
The sheriff seems to think that Lorrimor with his wet clothing came from the river. Both of the deputies - fully armed with swords and spears - are sent to investigate from that end.
He stomps up to the house. Now whats this nonsense about 'nekromancy' an' such? We'll have naught to do with that - we're good decent people here, he demands pugnaciously.
"We have no idea where that thing came from. None of us are necromancers. However, there is mounting evidence that there may be some manner of cult active in your little town. Perhaps you should join Jaru and Father Grimburrow," Baradlon says to the sheriff. Ignorant little s$$$. I wish we didn't need him to keep the yokels in line.
Caellers jaw juts out agressively. Yeah, I should.
He stops and says But I won't go stirring up trouble in Kendra's house or make her any more distressed than what she is already.
He thinks for a moment.
This can wait until morning. My deputies and I will patrol the town until dawn. I'll make inquiries as to the accusations of spell casting then.
Simeon watched Jaru and Grimsbottom huddle together whispering then head towards Kendra's room.
A sneer passes over his face, disappearing when he turned to the sound of the Sherrif's heavy footsteps coming out of the darkness.
"Spellcasting, you say?" Simeon says , all innocent "Surely my friend's talk of Zombies fired the imagination of some of your townsfolk. The last thing this town needs is a counterproductive witchhunt. We have cultists to apprehend!"
Diplomacy
Lament sits on the bed next to Kendra rubbing her hair and singing softly. "They call me Lament sir. She is not good. I have tried to comfort her the best I know how..."
Lament looks at the Father pleadingly. "Is there anything you can do for her? At least something to help her sleep?"
Lament looks at the Father pleadingly. "Is there anything you can do for her? At least something to help her sleep?"
I have not the correct blessings of my Lady for that. Let the medicine work and see the apocrathy tomorrow for more. I should have some relief in two or three days... If her mind was not irrepariably damaged
He looks at her directly again. After Kendra rests care for the Elf. This night has deeply affected by tonight and a hard life.
He rises and heads to Jaru.
You see me later too Father Toth.
With that he and the other Pharasnim leave.
"Spellcasting, you say?" Simeon says , all innocent "Surely my friend's talk of Zombies fired the imagination of some of your townsfolk. The last thing this town needs is a counterproductive witchhunt. We have cultists to apprehend!"
DiplomacyBluff 19
Sheriff Caeller Sense Motive
The Sheriff nods but gives the Lecturer a hard look. Fair enough - we don't hold with that sorta thing in these parts. You an' your friends be warned.
Maybe you're right but this whole cultist thing scares me as much as any walking corpse. Get some rest - tomorrow will be a busy day... That is if current events hold true.
Father Grimburrow has a pair of acolytes surreptitiously remove Lorrimor's body to the temple and the rest of the night passes uneventfully.
The dawn comes and so too does the tempo of village life. Kendra is deep in a fitful sleep and you are left to make your own meals.
You dress and notice that Vigilance made his own way back after the confusion.
Didn't want more issues with the peasants, he explains simply. Watched Gibbs house - nothing.
The Sheriff nods but gives the Lecturer a hard look. Fair enough - we don't hold with that sorta thing in these parts. You an' your friends be warned.
Maybe you're right but this whole cultist thing scares me as much as any walking corpse. Get some rest - tomorrow will be a busy day... That is if current events hold true.
Simeon nods rapidly at the Sheriff "Many thanks , Sheriff, to you and your men!" he says earnestly, watching the official walk back into the town.
Closing the door, Simeon leans back against it and utters "Insufferable man!", then wipes from his brow the nervous sweat beaded there; he'd have to be more circumspect around these villagers.
He then checks the hour and swears, no time to sleep, no time to research, these cultists are a damned nuisance!
Gathering up some food, Simeon sits and desultorily nibbles until sated. Then he waits for the others to rise or arrive.
Jaru takes advantage of what rest he can before another day begins. It is good that he has not had to petition for new prayers as he hasn't had a restful night yet with all the cult activity. He arms himself and makes his way downstairs for a meager breakfast of bread and jam.
He acknowledges the others as he chews slowly. It is readily apparent that anger lies just beneath the surface. Finally he speaks, "The cultists are near and have attacked us in the most vile way possible. We must soon move against them, but we should not be too hasty. The Professor advised preparation. We have yet to find out what dark secret brought them here. We should search the town's records, but first I suggest we find the secret vault mentioned in the Professor's journal. The journal so far has been the best source of information. Perhaps more can be found in this hidden vault."
Vigilance approaches you all at the dining table in the morning.
Much to research - little time
Also, maybe some people in local taverns, asking questions - not my expertise. Frighten the locals. Don't like people.
He thinks.
Secret crypt. Maybe investigate at night... may get wrong sort of attention otherwise.
Big question - where is the cult? Not sure who is most likely - boring hicks, no intelligence.
"That would suit me better than another day buried in books," Baradlon says. "I will go and visit the Father in the morning. He is right. I'm not feeling very....stable."
Jaru sighs and looks more closely at Nighteyes. "Yes, I believe it is best we see Father Grimburrow first then."
"Simeon, if you do go into town, I would advise you to not attract any further attention and refrain from using magic around the townsfolk. And for fate's sake DO NOT cast any spells on anyone. It has taken time and effort just to be tolerated here. Let us not further alienate ourselves."
Lament finally leaves Kendra to herself once she falls asleep. Wearily, she heads back down stairs. Simeon...I need to head to see the herbalist to retrieve Kendra's medicine. Would you like to join me? I think a little fresh air would suit us both.
"Vigilance can keep an eye on Kendra here. What are your plans, Elidal?"
Lament finally leaves Kendra to herself once she falls asleep. Wearily, she heads back down stairs. Simeon...I need to head to see the herbalist to retrieve Kendra's medicine. Would you like to join me? I think a little fresh air would suit us both.
"Hmmmm? Fresh air?" Simeon asks, streching mightily in his chair. Rising he stretches his neck and shoulders, thinking " It may indeed help. I've gained precious little sleep...a walkabout may do some good."
"I will come, Lament. As you say, the fresh air..." he says absently as he joins her at the entrance.
Along the way (In a whispering tone):
"I'll be honest...I am about tired of these town folk Simeon. What a bunch of uneducated imbeciles. I try not to judge, but..." She sighs. "I don't know about you, but I am ready to go explore the crypt or something. I am stir crazy."
Jabbering as usual: "Did you see ole Nighteyes? I think the professor shook him. Not like because he was his friend...like 'Oh crap! Zombie with jacked up jaw!' He should really learn to handle his emotions. You'd think he would have seen some gore. He is like five hundred years old or something."
Simeon walks along beside the halfing, hands clasped behind his back.
"It is as you say, Lament. The people here are of a particularly moronic quality, easily swayed by their primitive fears and suspicisions. They know next to nothing of the dangers that surround them...perhaps that is the very reason Petros settled here, no one curious enough to pry into his matters."
He walks in silence for a time as Lament carries on, coming up short as she comments on Nighteyes "I believe our elf friend has seen much in his life, he may have thinner barriers withing his mind to protect him from such sights. Nonetheless, I do not censure him for his reaction to Petros' animated body, and having to hack it down himself. You and I seem to share a fascination with these matters, that may shield us from emotional reactions."
The streets are starting to move with the slow tempo of village life but it is quiet, farm hands already off to their labours and the businesses just starting to open their doors and sweep their door steps.
An old weathered wooden sign over a shopfront for a house proclaims 'Apothecary' and lets you know you've arrived.
A young woman is just finishing her sweeping and looks at you with a nervous smile.
Ahhh. Kendra's friends. Good morning.
Elidal makes her way to Councilman Hearthmounts home, figuring he was the council member that she was most familiar with, and the most likely one with information on the town records.
She spots the councilman on his front patio with another familiar face the other councilman from the town council... Gharen Muricar wasn't it?
They are drinking tea and conversing.
On seeing your approach Hearthmount looks a bit sour but Muricar smiles.
They wave to you to join them.
Ahhh, our 'esteemed' former Judge. You've come to return those badges of office I take it?, the corpulent Hearthmount asks.
Don't be such a sour puss Vashian, says the other councilman. Offer her some tea and honey - besides I for one would appreciate the presence of a beautiful woman this morning, especially one who might be tell us what happened last night.
Gharen gives the inquisitor a winning smile, one that belongs on a much younger man.
Jaru is not far behind the others in leaving. He keeps an eye on the pale elf looking for cracks in the warriors stoic bearing as they walk to the temple. Once inside, he looks about for Father Grimburrow.
You arrive at the temple and are quickly ushered into Father Grimburrows room. The priest is looking weary but much better than he was yesterday during the Church service.
The Ladies blessing upon you both, Grimburrow greets you both.
Firstly, the most important part, let us see to you... Nighteyes isn't it? Sit. He indicates a chair.
Attend me Father Toth, he indicates to Jaru that he should join him at his right hand and assist in what is presumably to be a benediction or blessing. Jaru knows the ritual responsibilities well.
Both Jaru and Father Grimburrow lay hands on the elfs shoulders.
You've experienced much but you've done good service in our Lady's service in destroying the abomination that was once your friend. She wishes to bless you, through me, Her servant.
He prays.
Oh Mother of Souls, this one has been gravely wounded in the work of one of thy precepts regarding those who seek to interfere in thy divine purposes and deny the justice of thy judgement seat in the sacred bonelands. We, your servants ask that he be restored in those spiritual and emotional wounds that he has sustained.
What follows next is a torrent of words and phrases that Nighteyes is not familiar with but Jaru has heard a handful of occassions. A sense of peace fills the room, noticeable even above that you felt walking off the streets into the temple, and there is a lightening in Baradlons heart and mind.
No memories are lost, the hurt still there but there is now an increased capacity to bear up under it, a restoration of your sense of self.
The old priest wraps up with a brief prayer of thanks and claps the elf gently on the shoulder.
Now, young Father Toth - do we need our friend here to wait outside or can we talk openly and confidentially?
Baradlon goes with Jaru to the temple as he had planned. Once there he allows the priests to minister to him. It feels a bit like mentally vomiting as the Lady's power dumps decades of confrontations with death and the living dead from his psyche. Afterward he feels better. Almost as good as he did before he came to this cursed hamlet.
"Thank you, father." he says to Grimburrow after the spell is finished. "I feel much better now. Brother Toth, shall we go and seek out the hidden cache mentioned in the Journal?"
Ahh yes. What is this about some sort of secret crypt? Apologies to you both but this falls within my area of stewardship and is an area I treat with the utmost gravity, the old priest says gravely.
Jaru has been well trained as a healer's assistant and immediately recognizes the lesser restorative spell.
"I will vouch for Nighteyes, Father." he says simply.
Grimburrow nods sagely.
He's an able one, that is certain. Very well, your trust shall be as mine.
Jaru flashes an annoyed look at Nighteyes, "I'll vouch for his integrity anyway if not his wisdom or tact... yes, a secret crypt was mentioned in the journal. It sounded like it held a cache of supplies and I hope more clues. If I had any reason to think it held consecrated remains, I would not think of disturbing it. Yet, we would like your permission of course to investigate in the Restlands."
"Why don't you come with us, Father Grimburrow?" Nighteyes asks the priest.
Diplomacy:
Jaru
Nighteyes Aid another
Father Grimburrow hesitates... thinking.
No, he says at length, carefully, as if mentally weighing options.
It’s certainly plausible that members of a previous hierarchy in the church hid several resources in a tomb, but there are no records of such a cache. I can not know of its existence apart from whatever Lorrimor left in his writings and if it were not for my knowledge of his character? I would be very skeptical.
Give me what directions you have and I'll send out my acolytes to take care of it so that it is done by agents of our Lady of this town under appropriate local authority. This may seem like an act of caprice to you. It is not. There are considerations beyond ceremonial that I need to balance as well as my own peace of conscience. They'll undertake the search later today and report back in to you this afternoon.
In the meantime, you can tell me what you know and suspect of recent events and this cult of necromancers. Afterwards? You can use the archives here to continue your research - is there a sticking point that maybe I can help you with?
"I had planned on researching further the five most notorious of the prisoners interred at Harrowstone when it burned," Baradlon replies to the good father.
Interesting.
He leans forward to speak with you.
Some small towns grow up around a university, their shops and other offerings catering to a scholastic clientele. Others boast famous festivals or specialized industries that draw skilled artisans and craftsmen. But in the sad case of Ravengro, the town’s claim to fame is a prison. And not just any prison, for in this town of Ravengro we supported one of Ustalav’s most notorious jails — Harrowstone. Twice a year, a prison convoy rounded up the worst of the worst from smaller, less secure jails across the principality and transferred them to Harrowstone, often to await death by hanging, but always to live out the rest of their lives as prisoners.
In short we had the most evil, the most violent and twisted of Ustalav's criminals - the town’s old-timers remember well the eerie prison caravans that carried 'monsters' through the town.
We may have something more in the archives here though any specific records would be lumped among many records. We'll do our best to help.
He pauses and thinks.
Jorfa the smith was already servicing the town and prison around that period of time. She may also have something to say, though she is a hard woman to talk to save on matters of work. The older men, boys at the time of the fire, also gather at the inns in the afternoons to drink ale and to sit out in the sun to warm their old bones - they too, approached right, may be helpful. Once you have the names you seek? It should make your search easier.
Father Grimburrow leans back in his chair and carries on in a more casual conversational tone.
Its a matter for the scholars but some say that the fire that destroyed Harrowstone was one of the trigger events that eventually led to the entire region’s bloodless uprising in 4670 — the prison’s loss, combined with the government’s inability to rebuild the site, or more likely, its lack of interest in doing so, certainly disenfranchised the citizens of Ravengro, who by the time the region was ready to abandon hereditary rule were all too eager to accept this new "democracy" thing we see in the Palatinates today.
He continues his history lecture after taking a drink from a nearby cup.
You see, at that time the county of Canterwall did not exist and Ravengro lay in the county of Tamrivena, ruled by the unpopular Count Eigen Lorres. It was the Count's idea to build a large prison at Ravengro that could house, for a fee, criminals from anywhere in Ustalav. This plan did indeed increase Lorres' popularity as other parts of Ustalav moved their prisoners to Harrowstone and money started to flow into the county in return. Without that revenue? Well... In time the momentum picked up and it was more than the Lorres' who lost their ancestral right of rule, the Counts Caromarc of Vieland - Lepidstadt is the most famous of Vielands settlements - also fell from grace.
He gives a dry dusty little laugh.
Forgive me. Lorrimor and I were around for those heady days of change and we too played our roles, though ones that will never be spoken of by any historian or recorded in any text book - young and idealistic we were. I think I told you Lorrimor was my protege, yes? .
He rises, stiff from age. You must pardon an old man his ramblings of events long past. I'll leave you to your research - anything else? What have you to share with me about the Whispering Way?, says, making a spiral over his heart.
"I too was around then, though I was living in the ethereal elven kingdom of Kyonin learning the arts of combat and armoring. Human affairs were far from my mind in those days." Baradlon says, drifting back into a momentary reverie. "Thank you for sharing, I will return to my studies then. Please let me know what you find in the hidden cache. I must get to the bottom of what's going on here to keep Kendra and Ravengro safe from further harm."