As your procession rounds a tight corner among the mausoleums of the graveyard known as the Restlands, your group is suddenly presented with a group of nearly a dozen villagers, some with tools and clubs in hand. A big, rough looking man leads them. You can see his blood-shot eyes are filled with hate.
“That’s far enough. We been talking, and we don’t want this trash buried in the Restlands. You can burn him if you want, but he ain’t goin’ in the ground here!” he grunts.
Kendra is swift to respond, her sadness swiftly transforming into
anger. “What are you talking about?” she cries out. “I arranged it with Father Grimburrow. He’s waiting for us! The grave’s already been...”
“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 is pretty upset about this right now.” He steps forward.
The tiny halfling was struggling under the weight of the coffin. She was stronger than normal for her race, but still, this was tough on her. She wore her usual adventuring gear, knowing that the Professor would understand her not taking on any fineries, as that wasn't her style at all. She was there to pay her respects to her former mentor who was taken away entirely too soon.
She was lost in her thoughts while trying to complete her duties to the Professor, when the strangers jumped out at the profession.
"There is no necromancer here. Only a brave, kind soul who we will see put to a proper burial. Kindly move from out way and put away your weapons. Once we are finished, we will be gone from here," she squeaks.
Diplomacy
Her first friend in this cold, dank country was dead, and though the coffin was heavy, it was good to be able to carry him to his rest. Jakira was lost in her thoughts, her memories of the professor, and the short time they spent together. They were among her best memories, and she would miss his friendship.
At first, she did not know why they stopped, but then she saw the rough men with hateful expressions on their faces. She could hardly believe what she was hearing as they made their accusations, and she felt a cold fury building in her, that these ugly souls would interfere with the burial of a man she only ever knew to be decent and kind.
"You know nothing of this man, or you would not make such claims," she said, controlling her anger and speaking calmly. "Whoever you have been talking to has made a mistake. Do not deny a good man his deserved peace because of some vague superstition."
Hearing the others talk... parlay with these fools only caused the anger within Fernu to rise.
She had journeyed this bleak land to repay a debt and now... now these chattel would stand in her way... No.
In thickly accented Common the tall, scarred woman whispers to the other coffin bearers in a harsh voice;
"Take the load. Find the strength. I deal with the loud one."
Like a predatory cat the woman moves from your ranks and purposefully forward to meet the group, and specifically the big man with the big mouth.
She stands, corded muscle in her back and shoulders tight, cestus encased hands flexing, eyes cast to the muddy ground and speaks once more - voice hard like gravel;
"Let us pass. Let us pass or I bury you also..."
Necromancer? The Professor was a Necromancer? That can't be true...
Such an accusation carried terrible consequences in the righteous mind of Edrik, as Pharasma holds the raising of the dead a crime most heinous. Edrik's whole mission in life to this point had been to eradicate the presence of the undead, so for Professor Lorrimor to be a Necromancer would be a great betrayal of their friendship, therefore it had to be untrue.
Shaking his head, the tall lean Paladin in black was suddenly aware of the situation brewing. The Shoanti woman he had met just today was threatening the townsfolk, never a good way to start the day.
I better do something about this.
Looking to the others, Edrik nodded sadly "Sorry friends, we'll need to put the casket down a moment." After placing the casket down, Edrik quickly and sternly heads towards the arguing mourners and townsfolk.
"My friends! I know emotions run high, but this is neither the time nor place for violence. Let us be frank, whether Lorrimor was or was not a Necromancer, Pharasma teaches us that all sentient creatures regardless of their actions in life, deserve a proper resting place before moving onto the afterlife." Looking between Fernu and the leader of the townsfolk, Edrik appears confident as he tries to broker a peace "Please, let us not quarrel."
Garin opens his mouth, ready to defend the reputation of his friend but he is beaten to it by the female Halfling. He waits for her to finish so he could say his own peace, but the other pallbearers chimed in, leaving him no space with which to speak.
Then the Shoanti woman comes forward and Garin feels the effects immediately, arm adjusting to the new load as most of the weight she had been carrying was on his side. The man in black did the same and Garin is left to struggle with most of the casket's weight while he tries to put it down gently.
"Ook, maybe give a little more warning next time, Shel complains, as the other female quickly steps out from the casket, shifting the weight even more. She allows it to be placed on the ground, a bit harder than she hoped.
Don't you let that coffin touch holy ground! The necromancer probably bewitched his corpse to rise the moment it's in the ground. The burly tough says, his red rimmed eyes full of anger.
You don't think he's a necromancer? He's a wizard who dresses in dark robes and hangs around cemeteries. Hell, he was found dead in a haunted ruin! No doubt his passing is related to his witchcraft. The town has been plagued with evil since he moved in 15 years ago. Horrible monsters have appeared, people have been taken in the night, and all sorts of terrible things have happened 'cause of him. We should have run him out of town the moment he bought that mansion. You say he's not a necromancer? Prove it! The man's hand shakes a bit as he raises a length of branch as a club, but does not swing it yet. The crowd behind draws a bit closer to the mob's ringleader, and Kendra Lorrimor looks like she's about to tell the crowd which graveyard hole they can stick themselves in.
The people of Ustalav (Ravengro and smaller towns in particular) are insular and paranoid. They are also superstitious to the core: bodies in transport to the grave are usually held with great care. It appears that the villagers actually believe that an undead beast will spring from the coffin the moment it's on the ground, and it's bad luck to drop the coffin.
Everyone post their resolution action:
As the others peel off one by one, Jakira feels the weight growing heavier. She sets it down carefully. A quick look at the leader of the group threatening them tells her he is a brawler, possibly a soldier. Seeing the stronger of the pallbearers stepping closer, she gets behind them as best she can.
Garin grunts in exertion as he attempts to set the coffin down safely. He feels annoyed at the man's faulty logic and develops a measure of distaste for him.
Perception
Shel keeps quiet, realizing her first attempt at calming things down did not work. The large man in black seemed to be on the right track, so she planned to let him continue.
The scarred Shoanti woman cracks her neck, then shifts her weight into a fighting stance;
"Prove? Fool. He opposed the undead. I know this. Doubt me? Then fight me."
Clarification: if everyone puts down the coffin, it won't fall. The rolls are only for those holding it up after the others let go.
As dialogue is a free action, we haven't had a full round yet. Once everyone has acted we'll resolve the checks and if necessary begin combat, or move on.
Gilda is holding the coffin. She's looking stunned at hearing that her friend may have possibly been a necromancer. She'll try to set the coffin down carefully.
just in case.
for perception
As a group, you rest the coffin gently on the mist slick path. Free of it's burden, you are able to flex stiff shoulders and loosen weapons. For a moment it appears as the crowd will erupt in rage.
In the end, invoking Pharasma's name her place of power wins the crowd over. Almost spitting with rage, the tough points at Fenru and addresses the procession. Keep your dog on a leash. Turning to the professor's daughter Kendra I swear to you, if more foulness erupts from your family I will find you a place next to your scumbag father. You best not show your hide in town. he spins on his heel and elbows his way through the crowd. Embarrassed, the crowd drifts away after him. Moments later the path is clear, and only the tails of coats are visible from the retreating mob.
The rest of the trip to the grave takes a few minutes. There, Father Grimburrow oversees his assistants lowering the coffin into the ground. A few prayers are said, and the father opens up a chance for the players to speak of their relationship with the professor. If any of ye wish to tribute him, now ist the time. the cleric looks at you expectantly.
Shel steps forward. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this sort of thing. But I do want to say something about the Professor. I didn't know him for much of his life, only a few years total. But he treated me better in that short time than just about anyone has in this whole world...that speaks to his kind soul," she sniffs as she continues.
"He took in a poor girl who had nothing else in her life at that time. Through his friendship and kindness he got me back on my feet again. It was a favor I never got to repay, but he was the sort that would not care about that. His gesture of kindness probably didn't mean much to him, as looking around at all his friends, it seems he has done like things time and time again. But it meant so much to me...," she chokes out as she starts openly weeping. "I'll miss you, Professor," she finishes as she throws a small flower into the open ground, and steps away.
Diplomacy
Garin volunteers to say something. He walks in front and clears his throat, facing the small crowd.
"We had not known each other long," he begins, voice loud and clear. His posture is proud, chest out and head held up in confidence "But I like to think that Professor Lorrimor and I were friends. Perhaps not very close friends for I don't think we knew that much about each other, but nonetheless we were friends.
"My name is Garin Veacali and I deeply grieve the Professor's passing."
He lets a moment pass.
"The Professor was a witty man, smart and capable. I held much respect for him. On our first adventure in Lastwall, where we met, I did not expect such an old man to be," he pauses as he tries to find the right word, "spry. He had much energy and an amazing mind. I will always remember our conversations in fondness.
"We continued our correspondence through letters. When the last letter came, I was not expecting his daughter's handwriting. Even more unexpected was her informing me of his death. The Professor? Dead? He had always seemed so full of life, still so many years ahead of him even in his old age. To hear that he was gone was a tragedy."
"You may not know this but I once saved the Professor's life," he says. "I am sad that I could not be there in the Professor's time of need, for perhaps I could have saved the professor from, uhh, whatever it was that he died from."
Garin pauses to look at the coffin. "Petros Lorrimor, you will be greatly missed." He bows his head in respect.
"Thank you." He gives the crowd a small nod before returning to his place.
Gilda nods her head in silent prayer, "May he receive the welcome of his god's embrace and may he find his way home" then she bows and leaves without saying a word.
Jakira lowers her head, listening while the others speak. She nodded her head at their remembrances, hearing in their words reflections of her own experience of the Professor.
"I look around and see all the lives that Professor Lorrimor has touched and changed for the better, and though he is gone, I smile. I may never see his face again, but I see his hand in all of you. Though there are many differences among us, we have all come to honor a great man, who has inspired us. I think, if we told all our stories of his kindness, his courage, his genius and his passion for doing what is good, we would be here when the sun rose." She stops here for a moment, thinking of her friendship with the Professor, smiling as she remembered their first meeting.
"His greatness remains in all of us," she adds. "As long as we who remember him honor his memory, his greatness will remain. Let his ideals be the stars that guide our lives, and let that be our monument to our friend. I will miss him, and nothing can change that, but I can choose never to disappoint him"
Relieved that crowd dispersed, Edrik motions at Fernu to head back with him to the casket. "My apologies on leaving abruptly, I felt it necessary to intervene." Taking up the casket again, Edrik continues with the procession.
Edrik listens to Jakira and Garin silently and respectfully, nodding occasionally in agreement. Finally, Edrik moves to the edge of the burial site, grabbing a fistful of dirt. Standing to full height, he looks to the others and speaks "I am Edrik Nobel, a simple soldier at heart. You'll forgive me if I'm not so eloquent as the rest of you."
Turning his attention to the casket, Edrik lets the dirt fall from his hand onto the casket "Your body returns to the earth dear Professor. May Pharasma guide your soul passage to the eternal land. Rest in peace."
“I, Petros Lorrimor, being of sound mind, do hereby commit to this
parchment my last will and testament. Let it be known that, with
the exception of the specific details below, I leave my home and
personal belongings entire to my daughter Kendra. Use them as you see fit, my child.
“Yet beyond the bequeathing of my personal effects, this
document must serve other needs. I have arranged for the reading
of this document to be delayed until all principals can be in
attendance, for I have more than mere inheritance to apportion. I
have two final favors to ask.
“To my old friends, I hate to impose upon you all, but there are
few others who are capable of appreciating the true significance of
what it is I have to ask. As some of you know, I have devoted many
of my studies to all manner of evil, that I might know the enemy and
inform those better positioned to stand against it. For knowledge
of one’s enemy is the surest path to victory over its plans.
“And so, over the course of my lifetime, I have seen fit to acquire
a significant collection of valuable but dangerous tomes, any one
of which in the wrong circumstances could have led to an awkward
legal situation. While the majority of these tomes remain safe under
lock and key at the Lepidstadt University, I fear that a few I have
borrowed remain in a trunk in my Ravengro home. While invaluable
for my work in life, in death, I would prefer not to burden my
daughter with the darker side of my profession, or worse still, the
danger of possessing these tomes herself. As such, I am entrusting
my chest of tomes to you, posthumously. I ask that you please deliver
the collection to my colleagues at the University of Lepidstadt, who
will put them to good use for the betterment of the cause.
“Yet before you leave for Lepidstadt, there is the matter of
another favor—please delay your journey one month and spend
that period of time here in Ravengro to ensure that my daughter is
safe and sound. She has no one to count on now that I am gone,
and if you would aid her in setting things in order for whatever she
desires over the course of this month, you would have my eternal
gratitude. From my savings, I have also willed to each of you a sum
of one hundred platinum coins. For safekeeping, I have left these
funds with Embreth Daramid, one of my most trusted friends in
Lepidstadt—she has been instructed to issue this payment upon
the safe delivery of the borrowed tomes no sooner than one month
after the date of the reading of this will.
I, Petros Lorrimor, hereby sign this will."
[ooc]The Councilman excuses himself with a nod, and leaves.
Shel looks around slightly puzzled after hearing the reading of the will. I don't really have anything else going on, but one month here? Well, family of the Professor is close enough, I suppose.
"Sure, I'm in. After sent some of the locals like at the graveyard, it's probably a good idea for us to make sure things calm down before leaving you alone here, Kenra."
"I will need to send word to the Lady d'Baton, but she was a friend of the Professor's as well. She will not begrudge me time spent in fulfilling his last wishes." Jakira says. She smiles at Kendra, sympathetically, and gives her a graceful curtsey. "I am at your service, Miss Lorrimor. I will do all that is within my power to ensure your well-being."
"Perhaps paying a visit to our friend from the cemetery would be helpful. Do you know where he might be found?"
Having been the last to arrive Vachordi looks around at the other pallbearers, frazzled and confused. At Garin's comment about saving the Professor's life Vachordi jumps.
Apparently the professor was getting himself in trouble quite often. The winds guided me to be there to save him as well.
"I also will need to send word back to Lastwall but I am certain they will understand," Garin says, approaching Kendra and attempting to kiss her hand. "It seems I am at your service, Miss."
Gilda had returned when she realized the service wasn't actually over. "I am here to offer whatever help I may, for as long as it is needed. May Iomedae guide your path."
The professor was a great man. I am here to assist in his last wishes and with anything else that may put his soul at ease.
Everyone having agreed to stay, Edrik shrugs agreeably "An unexpected request, but one I am happy to fulfill for the professor."
Looking over to Garin, Edrik addresses the warrior from Lastwall "We can share a messenger. I too will need to inform my superiors at Lastwall of my absence."
"What do you expect from trying to deal with that drunken yokel, Jakira? I doubt there will be much chance of reasoning with him. Might be better to leave him to his cups..."
Jakira shrugs at the halfling. "You're probably right. It's probably a waste of time. Drunk yokels hold grudges, though, and to tell the truth, I want to know where he got the idea the Professor was a necromancer."
Shel nods. "Okay, you are much more clever than I. I hadn't even considered that Necromancer part. Finding out who is spreading rumors about the Professor makes good sense..."
Garin looks at Edrik. "Of course," he says. "I did not know you were from Lastwall also. Edrik Nobel, was it? I don't think I've heard of you before. My name is Garin Veacali."
Edrik cordially extends his hand to shake Garin's, and introduces himself "Aye, Edrik Nobel; the pleasure is mine Garin Veacali." Edrik pauses, recollecting a short moment before continuing with a shrug "I've been serving the Lastwall a few years now, but our paths have never crossed until now I suppose."
The will indicated there was a box that needed to be delivered to Lepidstadt. You have the key to it.
Explore the mansion.
Explore the town.
Did anyone ask how Professor Lorrimor died?
Investigate the aggressor from the graveyard.
Visit the apothecary.
Garin shakes Edrik's hand, somewhat disappointed the man did not recognize him. "That's understandable."
"More cynical, more frightened, maybe," Jakira says to the halfling. "I do think you're right that reasoning with him will be difficult. Maybe together we can appeal to his sense of honor ... or self-preservation."
Gilda goes hunting for the box o' evil books. She searches the mansion high and low. When she encounters Kendra or any other person in the mansion she asks them if they know where the trunk might be found.
if perception is required
for any diplomacy rolls. Which should be massively entertaining. :)
It's best that I get custody of it, lest persons of weaker will be tempted into folly.
"Kendra, I only arrived right before the funeral. I hate to ask this question, but honestly, I haven't heard exactly how the Professor...you know,...what happened," the little halfling asked, trying not to choke up as she finishes her question.
The attic and basement levels of the mansion are sealed. However, a quick trip into Lorrimor's office finds a small, gilded chest sitting next to his writing desk. The keyhole looks to be about the size of the key from his will.
I was called back to Ravengro sixteen days ago. My father was found dead by the Sheriff on a patrol of some ruins just north of town. It looks as though a portion of a wall collapsed and crushed his head. I paid to try and have him raised, but his soul wasn't able to return... she sobs, gathers her wits, and continues. His soul is gone. His jaw was crushed, so we couldn't even ask him what he was doing. I couldn't prove any foul play, and you know my father- he would throw caution to the wind. All I know is that he's gone, way before his proper time.
Vachordi listens and stands with Shel as he tries to catch up on what on earth has happened.
Gilda takes the box into her custody. As well as the key. She will hang the key around her neck using a small amount of twine.
After that is done and the chest is safely ensconced in the room where she is staying, Gilda goes forth.
"I wish to see where the professor died. Would anyone else care to accompany me?"
"I'll come along," Jakira says, and then to Kendra. "There's no record of what he might have been doing at these ruins?"
Edrik stands up from a chair he was relaxing in, and approaches Gilda "I'll accompany the both of you. Let me just grab my things." Heading to his room, Edrik dawns his armored jacket, shield, backpack and his trusty warhammer.
"Hold on, hold on. Remember how the group in the cemetary acted? They recognize all our faces, and I am sure our every movement will be followed. I'd offer that, for at least the next few days, that all of us go together. Strength in numbers and all that..."
Garin joins you from nearby, having been listening in as he ate dessert. He pats his mouth with a cloth.
"I'll join you," he says, tone not exactly a request. "My horse needs some exercise."
There is both strength and wisdom in numbers.
Vachordi strings his bow and follows.