"Vampire spawn eh? Tha sounds like a pretty nasty meetin' if ye ask me, them undead, jus' 'orrible 'orrible monsters all of 'em"
"You don't know the half of it,
but people can be just as horrible as the undead."
"Oh I do believe some people can be right nasty, them undead, they're just such an awful abomination 'gainst all thats normal is what makes 'em so 'orrible and those who make 'em are jus' as evil an' depraved as them."
Sarianna chuckles at Gkirkhan's request. "Bat sandwich? Perhaps you should try our local bar, The Laughing Demon. Zokar is known for -exotic- ingredients and is -was- also a friend of the professor."
You continue to exchange reminicences as the hour grows late. Finally, Sariana says " Don't forget, the burial is tomorrow at 9. As some of you seem to be volunteering as pallbearers, you might want to get some rest. I'll send Davon here to let Father Grimburrow know. I'm sure he'll be rel..pleased. May I accompany you on the walk to the Restlands? I'll be attending as well"
As the new day dawns the rain seems to be holding off for now, though the weather is still cold, damp and foggy.
After a hearty breakfast, the six of you, accompanied by Sarianna, step out into the town square. As you reach the road north toward the restlands, you pass an agitated group gathered around the message post.
Two boys (the young man from last night and another, older one who resembles him enough to be related) are in ernest discussion with a tough-looking man. The older boy is waving around a sheet of paper, possibly a post from the board. "This is outrageous, Sheriff. Can't you do something about that Gibs?"
"Now Pevrin, you don't know it was him. I'll look into it, though, but I'm not sure what good it will do."
Sarianna says"Pevrin, Davon, what seems to be the problem?"
The boy turns to her and hands her the paper he's waving about."Look at this...this travesty, and tell me it wasn't that idiot Gibs or one of his cronys!"
Sarianna looks at the paper and pales. "You're probably right, but so is Sheriff Caeller. You'll never prove it, and Gibs isn't worth your concern. Just hope this is the only one and that Kendra doesn't see it."
You can see that she's holding a neatly transcribed sheet of parchment with a portion scribbled in over in something red.
"What seems to be the problem?"
"Perhaps my expertise in the field of scriptology and calligraphy can be of some use in this matter?"
The notice is some form of local newsheet titled The Wealday Parchment. The, to put it politely, edited section appears to be about the Professor's death. Originally you think the section read: unfortunately his investigations into the recent incidents at Harrowstone resulted in his demise. The un has been blotted out and the words investigations into the recent incidents have been scribled over (in a very poor hand)with the words 'vile scribblings'.
@Vertielle: You're sure you'd recognize that writing if you saw it again.
"Vell it seems dot not everybody vas fond uv de Professor, jah."
Gkirkhan has a scowl on his face and is rubbing the stubble that covers his jawline. He doesn't seem to happy about someone defacing the Professor's obituary.
As Que reads the scribbling, she presses her lips together in anger while her hand shortly wanders to something beneath her coat before she calms down.
Whoever had trouble with him, couldn't they at least possess the dignity to spare his obituary?
What cause would anyone have for defacing his memory so?
To do such a thing in public, in front of his friends, his family, his own home- this act speaks to either great bravery or great foolishness.
She seems to gather herself emotionally, going so far as to physically shake off the welling anger.
Whoever it may be, they could feasibly share a viewpoint with the locals, or worse, spread their... Trying to think of the right words, she scowls. opinions to other cities. Sometime soon, we should investigate these "vile scribblings" and help put the record straight.
These thoughts are nothing in the face of a funeral. Let us take this day for mourning, for remembering, and on the morrow, we will deal with the...the... At this, she is at a loss for acceptable words- a powerful state for a student of language.
The words of the comely bard inspired the normally shy scholar to speak up. "Ma'am, I agree they have done the professor a dishonor. Better to confront it immediately then let it fester. Shall we visit this Dibbs--you can start with the friendly words--I may have to end with words of warning."
in a polite and calm voice
"It is disrespectful what was done to the professor,
but there may have been reason or a misunderstanding."
after hearing Woods words
"I think it would be very wise to not cause any trouble here.
As the locals here tend to distrust outsiders and you don't want a lynch mob coming after us, now do you.
Diplomacy, Patience, Knowledge, and Courage maybe be our best tools to use here."
I'm sure a hat-tip from Gkirkhan would set him right, but I agree with Evangline, in a sense- diplomacy and cunning will win this battle. We must speak with the sheriff, and be sure no more serious works of nefarity come from this Biggs character, if indeed it was he.
For now, though, we have a ceremony to attend.
"Defilin' a man's grave an' 'is obituary is somethin' no one with respect would ever do, especially on tha day o' 'is funeral. Still, we best be gettin' to tha problem later, we don' want another funeral today."
Kurik shakes his head briefly and follows to the ceremony with a foul look on his face.
Well, well, well. Seems that we have a feisty troupe of ladies on our hands.
"Hokay, den. Hy guess ve iz tryink de sottle?"
The tough-looking human in the nice hat (but not as nice as Gkirkhan's), introduces himself.
"I'm Sheriff Benjan Caeller. I appreciate your caution in dealing with my townsfolk. I'm afraid you'll find many of them, um, more cautious in their reactions to strangers and perhaps not as accepting of -unusual- folks as was Professor Lorrimor.
His gaze runs across the group with the typical lawman's suspsion of strangers in town, but he seems to pay particular note to the non-humans among you, resting longest on Ghirkhan.
"But don't let me delay you. Miss Vai, please give my respects to Miss Lorrimor, but I think that, given this, I will remain in town and keep an eye on things here."
He tips his hat, nods and moves off.
As you start towards the REstlands, the boys walk with you, the youngest one sniffling a bit and trying not to wipe his eyes on his sleeve...or even look like he's upset. It's not working.
At the bridge he stops. "I can't...it's all my fault!" he bursts out.
Wood follows the rest to the funeral. "All we need next are torches and pitchforks."
Que notices that the boy stops and turns to him.
"What's up? Is something wrong? What is your fault? Do you want to talk about it?"
She smiles a little, trying to gain the boy's trust
As you start towards the REstlands, the boys walk with you, the youngest one sniffling a bit and trying not to wipe his eyes on his sleeve...or even look like he's upset. It's not working.
At the bridge he stops. "I can't...it's all my fault!" he bursts out.
"Vell, de lawzmen alvayz looks at me likes dot. Dunno vhy it vould be hyur fault."
Gkirkhan looks around at the rest of the party as he realizes that is not what the kid was talking about at all.
"Oh, vait. Dot's not et."
or a 26 if sexually interested?
Using mostly body language, Vertielle opens a conversation fluidly, her voice like honey.
I'm sure we've all felt that way, sweetie.
She crouches to be even with him, looking up at the rest of those assembled while she speaks.
It's not very often that fear is true.
"B...b...but, this time..." he swallows nervously "it was a dare, you see. Go up to the old prison, after dark, touch the door, grab a rock or something, then come back. But there were...shadows...hooded...shapes...so I got scared and ran. The Professor was out for a walk and saw me, I...t...told him, and he said he'd go look and he...he went back in his house to get some stuff...I waited and when he came out." here he holds out a piece of stone" he gave me this rock to show the guys and he went up the road, and...and never came back!"
"Hmm, this seems worryin' don' worry lad, its not yer fault so don' be puttin' blame on yerself now."
she thinks
the boy saw shadows and hooded shapes...
More may be going on here than meets the eye.
"It's not your fault boy. What's you name by the way and what about this rock? Do you still have it?"
"Hokay, listen op, und listen goot. Ve all mess op sometimes, bot de lovely ladies iz right, hyu deedn't do enyting vrong. De Professor vas a schmott guy, he knew vot he vas doink."
Gkirkhan kneels so he's eye level with the boy.
"Now, if hyu really thinks it iz hyur fault, den grow beeg und strong. Dey von't know vot hit dem vhen hyu see dem again."
Diplomacy to aid another:
kn(engineering)
"In my research I learned some things. The ruins the boy is talking aobut must be Harrowstone, a ruined prison. It was partially destroyed in 4662 and never rebuilt. Like most ruins in Ustalav, it's supposedly haunted. It certainly looks like it could be."
That might explain the hooded figures...
"I don't think the hooded figures are undead, but something living."
"I think you're right, Evangline, that may be living person. I've heard of smugglers or other criminals doing their business in supposedly haunted locations. nobody would suspect any shady dealings going on htere when they see the shades of persons in a haunted house or so. They would run away and think these were ghosts."
"That's an interesting speculation. It's possible, I suppose. anyone here would be more likely to attribute such things to the place being haunted. It's a pity we couldn't learn what the professor saw, due to his injuries."
Sarianna pauses"I should tell you. The professor died when a piece of the prison wall fell on him, crushing his head. A complete accident, of course. No one could have realized that gargoyle was that weakened.
As you arrive at the Restlands the boys run ahead to greet an older man, who by the resembance, must be their father. He is one of the few people gathered here. Those of you who know her recognize Kendra Lorrimor, and her resemblence to her father can clue in the rest of you.
She sees you ant turns to you in relief. "welcome, welcome. I'm glad you all could make it."
She briefly introduces the rest of the group of mourners; the boy's father is Zokar Elkarid, the other woman in attndance is Jominda Fallenbridge, and also attending are two members of the town council; Vashian Hearthmount and Gharen Muricar.
"Oh great, a buncha ghosts an' what not hauntin' an' ol' prison eh, well I suppose we best check out tha place after to see what 'e may 'ave seen"
Vertielle courtsies, introducing herself
I am Vertielle, a colleague of the late professor... Kendra, it is a great honor I finally meet you, of whom the professor spoke so highly and so often.
Que Xuang bows deep in front of Kendra.
"You must be Kendra, the professor's beloved daughter. My condolences for your loss. Professor Lorrimor was a fine man and his death is a loss for the world."
The young scholar awkwardly approaches Kendra. "Your father was a great friend. I respected him and miss him greatly."
Wood looks like he wants to say more, but quickly withdraws.
Eva introduces herself to Kendra
"You must be Kendra, the professor's treasured daughter as he spoke well of you in the letters I received.
My condolences for your loss. Professor Lorrimor was a brilliant man and his death is a loss for the world and to us all."
The young woman smiles sadly. "And I am pleased to meet the people of whom my father spoke so highly as well. I'm glad you could make it. I only wish the reason for our meeting was happier"
She looks at the simple but finely made coffin and shudders, closes her eyes as if to draw strength from somewhare, and continues."As is the custom here, as his closest living relative, I must lead the procession to the burial site. May I impose upon those of you who have aready come so far for a further, last favor to my father? Would any of you be willing to serve as pallbearers?"
Vertielle looks at her now-regrettable corset with some indecision, then replies.
I'm afraid my attire is inconducive to the task, though regrettably so- I can, however, add some element of aid by lighting the procession with magic, should you so desire?
"Oh, jah. Et vill be an honor to be vun uv hyur pappy's pallbearers."
Gkirkhan seems to have put off the goofy, large ham antics and is very solemn, going so far as to sweep his hat before him when he bows to Kendra while accepting the honor.
"Let me in the middle where my lack of physical strength will not hamper the procession. I am honored."
"Iwould be honored to be one of those, who will accompany the professor on his last ravel as a pallbearer"
With these words Que moves besides the coffin and takes her place as a pallbearer.
"I'm willing to be a pallbearer in the front, and it would be an honour."
"I'll be honored to be a pallbearer jus' put me where ye need me an' I'll see the good man off on 'is last journey."
Kendra nods and smiles her thanks. She steps to the front of the coffin as the other mourners fall behind it.
@Vertielle: what spell?
The solemn procession winds through the cemetary, along a path labled the Dreamwake. Finally you reach a point where the broad pathway joins one labled The Eversleep. As you turn onto the Eversleep you see that the path ahead is blocked by about a dozen surly-looking locals. The tallest, an elderly but wiry man with the look of an old soldier, steps forward.
"That's far enough! We've 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!"
His companions mutter in the background, noding agreement.
Mister Gibs, I presume? Your concerns, while perhaps ill founded, are quite concrete here- perhaps a direct addressing of your grievances could bring this unsavory situation to a close, before uncouth words are had by both parties. I believe...
As Vertielle speaks, she casually walks forward towards the group, and ever so slightly off the path. With a slight flick of her hand, she gestures to Que Xuang in particular to move the procession along.
Que staresat the speaker "Tell me Mister Gibs, you happen to be a priest of Pharasma or the warden of this graveyard? No? So who gives you the right to decide who is allowed to rest here or not?"
She remembers that the boy suspected this Gibs to have written that defilement of the professor's obituary and you can see anger flare up in her eyes shortly before she calms down again.
"Who are you to forbid a dead his final rest? If the professor shoukd come back as a haunt, it is people like you who are responsible for that as you don't want to give them their final rest!"