Professor Rokannon; over the past several years of your professional rivalry with Professor Lorrimor you have come to know his handwriting intimately, therefor when you open the cover of this journal (it is a journal you determine) you feel a sense of frisson...
These are likely the last thoughts & words of his you will ever experience again, particularly as it seems he is 'speaking' directly to you.
Six passages, from almost the beginning of this journal to the final passage written, catch your eye. The final passage is dated two days prior to Professor Lorrimor's body's discovery.
You also notice each of the other four tomes has a small, loose slip of paper sticking out. The one in the Purple bound book indicating it should be returned to Magistrate Daramid, Lepidstadt; the other three indicate they are property of the school of antiquities at the Lepidstadt University, care of Professor Crowl.
Vivian gently nudges the bookworm
I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to read theses books, however interesting they are. Our host wait for you to join a game of cards, and I'm pretty sure you didn't take any course in Rudeness, Professor. So please leave these books for now and come join us. What is written stays written, but people are always changing, and thus are for more important and interesting.
Smiling, she offers her arm to Professor Rokannon
I hope you still remember some rowdy songs and silly deeds from your student years, Professor. This house, and our dear, kind host, need merriment to ease the pain of losing a loved one and good company to share the burden of mourning him.
Momentarily Professor Rokannons hands grip the Journal tightly as Vivian nudges him, then reluctantly he puts it back in the trunk and closes the lid.
"Yes. Yes of course." He replies as he takes the proffered arm.
As he is led away he glances back wistfully.
"After all, there is a great deal to read through. It will probably take several days..."
After the others leave the library Cassandra will pick up the other books in the chest and will look them over before returning them to the chest. As the rest of the mourners entertain distract themselves Cassandra will sit in the study rolling the name 'Whispering Way' over and over in her mind.
Knowledge (religion):
Opening the second book, you discover it is titled 'On Verified Madness'. Perusing briefly, it seems to focus on aberrations, particularly those with ties to something called 'The Dark Tapestry'.
The third & final tomes are titled 'Serving Your Hunger' by someone named Dason & 'The Umbral Leaves'. They seem to be works of scripture...
For some decidedly unholy faiths.
'The Umbral Leaves' is a translation into Taldane of the unholy book of Zon Kuthon.
Davor, too, remains behind in the study, uninterested in playing Towers with the rest -- due at least in part to his own religious reasons.
He quietly reads through the journal, becoming more visibly concerned with each page.
As it becomes apparent Professor Lorrimor had been working to combat the Whispering Way before his untimely death, and based on the Professor's mentions of the organization's penchant for necromancers and the undead, Davor can no longer contain his rage...
"Necromancy?!" he bellows. "Rudeness be damned, this is no time for silly card games! This 'Whispering Way' must atone for what it's done, NOW!"
Although he knows nothing about the Whispering Way, the Professor's journal is enough evidence to put Davor on the warpath against them.
After a few moments of pacing, his demeanor calms a bit as he realizes how foolhardy a spur-of-the-moment hunt for an unknown enemy would be.
"We need to learn as much as we can about what the Professor was studying when he died and who the Whispering Way are. And we need to do it quickly. They might be targeting Kendra, or us, already."
He sits back down after a few more moments of pacing, still holding the journal. He stares blankly at its pages briefly before hanging his head in his hands, dejectedly.
"Why couldn't he have sent for me earlier, before it was too late?" he mutters sullenly.
Realm: 1 (the Harmonious), 2 (the Beatific), 3 (the Free), 4 (the Rigorous), 5 (the Ambivalent), 6 (the Impulsive), 7 (the Tyrannical), 8 (the Malevolent), 9 (the Dissonant)
Cassandra: ,
Davor: , ,
Faradir: ,
Tamarie: ,
Vivian: ,
As Faradir allows Vivian to chivy him into a pleasant card game with the bereaved miss Lorrimor, Tamarie & herself; as Cassandra ruminates & Davor broods; a sense of gathering malice begins to make itself felt. Though not sufficient to engender panic or deeper malaise, it is sufficient that the four card-players decide not to play more than one hand. In fact, Kendra is still sufficiently agitated that when she attempts to shuffle the cards back together, her hands slip & the cards fly, scattering throughout the room. You all note that one card in particular falls before each of you.
"Drat it all!" Kendra's resolve finally cracks & she falls back into her chair, face tensed as she holds back the tears which have been building for days.
Tamarie looks at Vivian, a meaningful look.
"Could you... I'm not that good around people."
Of course.
Vivian walks to Kendra, takes the girl in her arms and starts to tell her words of confort... as the young redhead probably has done countless times in the temple in which she was raised. Vivian seemed concerned and thoughful
why it has to be me again? Why no one else even TRIED? My sweet mother, you should be here, not me. Once again,you're so better at that kind of thing... Maybe Pharasma thought I was too self centered? I'll do my best.
Kendra, it's fine and normal to be sad, to be mad with grief and to cry in such a moment. Tears are the currency of our sorrow, the more you loved a lost one, the more you pay the price. So don't be ashamed and let them loose.
Your father was a good man, and a courageous one, and all he wanted was to be sure you'll won't be alone in these harsh times, that you'll have people caring for you, protecting you maybe from whatever evilness his studies had shown him. We don't know yet dangers your father suspected, but as he wasn't a foolhardy person, and as he asked not just to one, but to several friends to come and make sure that his most precious treasure, you, Kendra Lorrimor, will be protected after his untimely demise, I just want to play safe and to act with carefulness.
Vivian turns to her companions and speak with the voice of someone used to give orders in time of stress and be obeyed without question.
Tamarie, check all the doors and windows, be sure they are closed and that the house is secure. Professor Rokannon, we'll need the maximum of informations you can find in Professor Lorrimor's books. Try to find who or what were is most recent studies and inquiries, so we'll now what we'll may have to fight.
Davor, you mentioned necromancy: try to find what you can about the ... Whispering Way? Tomorrow, we'll need to check a few things at the Pharasman temple together. Cassandra..
She suddenly seems to be at lost and blushes
I'm sorry, i still don't know much about you and how you can help us, even if I know you want to. In fact, I apologise to you all... I'm too much accustomed to women delivering babies, and to shoot orders to get the things done right when they need to be done.Efficiency is much better than politeness in theses cases.
Patting Kendra's hand
Now, sweetie, let's take the night if needed to talk about your father, to mourn and cry.Tomorrow, i'll have other questions for you
Diplomacy check
"You were correct Vivian, in your ordering around. If this is something that can affect us, we should be prepared. I'll be sure to check around the house, and do what I do best."
Turning to the others, she continues: "If any of you require any help, and I am able, please let me know. I know little of necromancy or the dark arts, but I'm not stupid or unable to learn."
Tamarie will explore the house, secure the windows and set up a variety of very simple "traps". A bell attached to a door, a chair against a door that could fall over and make some noise, a metal plate against a window, etc. She will try to map out the place, look for points that could be easily defended if necessary, and be sure to note heavy tables or bookcases that can be impromptu roadblocks.
Professor Rokannon plays poorly during the game, glancing repeatedly towards the Library. Sometimes he forgets which game he is playing!
When Kendra scatters the cards, Faradir apologizes and starts to gather them up; unable to deal with her tears.
When Vivian delivers her orders, he is out of the room before she finishes; grateful to be doing something he actually trained for.
By the time the game & miss Lorrimor are breaking up, you realize the full dark has come upon Ravengro.
Rummaging through the Library quickly, Professor Rokannon turns up a couple of sources on the Whispering Way before falling asleep in a chair.
Cassandra peruses the library looking at the various books on the shelves before taking one down to read. Each book she looks at leads her to another and yet another as the hours pass. Finally with a small stack of books next to her she rises, wipes the sleep from her eyes and excuses herself as she climbs the stairs to her room.
Knowledge (religion):
Tamarie's eyes grow tired as she stares at book after book, not sure how to link column A with line B, and she often catches herself falling asleep. She starts pacing around, and tries to help others by looking for the right book, the right page or that 'note that was just here'.
Through your combined efforts, a dark & fulsome picture of Professor Lorrimor's nemesis unveils itself. These new-won secrets of the fell underpinnings of your once innocent world whirling through your minds do little to grant your slumber ease as each of you finally succumbs.
All of you are rudely awakened, far too soon, the next morning by the combination of a heavy pounding at the front door & a clanging & rattling as several of Tamerie's makeshift 'alarms' are likewise jostled, the pounding is that resounding.
Tamarie will jump up, and run to the door. She wants to be the one opening it, or stand behind it, at the ready. She has had some "interesting" dreams concerning the undead, and her sleep-filled eyes take a minute longer to focus.
"This had better be someone coming to offer their condolences," he grumbles as he rises from a fitful sleep plagued by creeping concerns about the Whispering Way.
"Or delivering some breakfast," he says, his hollow abdomen reminding him how little he had eaten the day prior.
Davor instinctively places his hand on the silver dagger sheathed inside his cloak, ready to draw it quickly should the need arise, and rushes after Tamarie toward the source of the sound.
Not totally awakened, Vivian mumbles
I come, Mother.....Just a few minutes more
Then she realises where she is, and dashes out of her bed. She spares a few seconds to get dressed, and tries to finish putting her leather armor on while walking quickly to the stairs.
She delivers a sad smile to Tamarie, who's setting herself to the door
You did a good job with your alarms. dear. Too bad we needed them.
The sheath of her short sword nearly fall down on the floor,but the quick redhead manage to catch it in extremis, whispering.
Oh...sheath!
She restrain from giggling, but Davor can see her eyes sparkle.
Then, she carefully takes a chair near the table, and puts it down on its back, near the door, before readying her foot to push it in the path of any unsuspecting foe.
she whispers to her companions
Hope Cassandra and the Professor will soon be there.... Did you had a good sleep?
Professor Rokannon jolts at the sound of alarms and nearly falls out of the chair he fell asleep in; the book he was perusing sliding off his lap and onto the floor.
He tries to stand up, but a sudden crick in his back leaves him hunched over and grimacing.
Waiving his hand, he Prestidigitates his staff to his hand, and with it's help stretches to his full height with a series of popcorn like pops coming from his spine. With that done, he walks stiffly down to the front door to see what was the matter...
"Not really, bloody Whispering Path or Way. What do I look like, a Pathfinder? Man, those guys..."
Tamarie will try to peak through a hole in the door. He will then open the door, ready to jump out of anything sharp or firey.
"Where is Cassadra?"
Looking out the door you all realize a number of things. First, the day has progressed to nearly noon, it seems you must have all been up until almost dawn winkling out every possible detail regarding this 'Whispering Way'. Second, the pounding was undoubtedly caused by one of the three men standing before you, two of whom you recognize as Councilman Hearthmount & one of the superstitious brutes who attempted to prevent Professor Lorrimor's burial. The third thing you notice is that Councilman Hearthmount & the thug seem to be only just kept from engaging in fisticuffs by the third man, from the looks of him a constable of some manner. "" The superstitious lout bellows as Tamarie opens the door.
"Shut yer yap, Faethor Grimmas." The 'peace-keeping' man replies. "Keep at this & I'll see you cool in a cell fer a day or two."
"You lot'r them as were called ta recognize fer tha late Proffesser Lorrimor?" He inquires, looking the five of you over & nodding a respectful courtesy to Kendra as she makes her way forward. "Mayhap you might as should have a look at this..." He concludes as he grasps 'Faethor' firmly by the scruff of the neck & turns the two of them about to walk down the Southwestern lane towards the bridge.
Tamarie will let go of the weapon her hand is on, and gesture for the man to continue.
Puzzled, Professor Rokannon will light his pipe and follow along.
Following the Constable, the Lout, & Councilman Hearthmount down the lane, you cross the bridge. "Really, Sheriff Caeller! There is evidence save proximity, timing & superstition to indicate that these guests of had anything to do with this!"
"That's as may be, Councilman, but it's my task to keep the peace here in Ravengro & right now these six," nodding to the five of you and then back to Faethor, still grasped firmly by the collar, "are the greatest disturbances to said peace since the poor Prof got hisself inhumed."
"Say WHAT??!! Someone dug up the professors body? By Pharasma, when I get my hands on them they'll pay for that!"
She continues with a barrage of questions, which I'm sure he won't answer/know the answer to.
"No condolences and no breakfast," Davor fumes as he follows the group. "This trip just keeps getting better and better."
Sheriff Caeller rounds the tall post covered in numerous, variously aged, papers; taking the opportunity to slam Faethor into said post when he attempts to use the change in direction to escape the Sheriff's firm grasp. "You started this fuss Faethor Grimmas, yer gonna see it through!"
"An' mebbe time you'll think twice 'for ya go runnin' off an' causin' a ruckus fer no good reason..." He mutters under his breath.
Continuing on, now Northwest, & toward the River; a sense of foreboding draws your gaze almost due West & slightly South where you see the helmed head of the Harrowstone Memorial statue just peeking up over the tops of a copse of trees. From the angle & distance, you judge the Memorial must look out over the river.]
"Breakfast?" Sheriff Caeller exclaims at Davor's complaint. "S'nearer Luncheon Priest...
An it comes to that, not had more'n 'coffee' this morn. An' several hours yon."
"Soon's you lot've had a look-see we'll take our leave of yer."
It doesn't take a terribly insightful soul to realize Sheriff Caeller hasn't much sympathy for people who complain about not getting breakfast when they have apparently slept in until closer to noon than dawn.
"We were researching something mentioned in some documents, Sheriff." Kendra responds, a bit defensively. "He implied it might have to do with those strangers you mentioned the last time we all played 'Towers'."
At mention of Professor Lorrimor, the Sheriff's expression softens somewhat.
"Hrm. Damn fine card player..." Sheriff Caeller mutters under his breath.
"We almost there? Like the priest here I am grumpy when I'm without food, and it's been a while. What happened? Do you not require the skill to explain and talk at the same time?" Tamarie says, slighty annoyed.
"Do you the skills to listen & talk at the same time?" Sheriff Caeller responds sharply, his features hardening once more.
Wis check
Sense Motive (unskilled)
I'm sure the sheriff wouldn't have demanded us to come if the matter wasn't of real importance, Tamarie. He senses there is something wrong in the community he has sworn to protect, and he does his best to find what happened, and who did it- whatever is "it".
I guess he won't say much until he show us the place where "it" happen, so he can try to decipher our faces, who's really shocked and who isn't surprised, who tries to keep a straight face...Just as in a game of Towers he seems to be familiar with..
She smiles amiably to the sheriff.
I'm sure we'll eat later. But some things need to be done, and to be done right now, apparently.
Speaking in ushered tones to Tamarie and Davor
And it's something quite unusual, as we're walking opposite to the cemetary where the poor Professor was supposed to rest... I wonder what can be even more disturbing than ..well... disturbing a grave. Suddenly, skippping a meal seems not so important, uh? Be patient. Please.
Professor Rokannon is still sleep deprived and walks along unheeding. He takes some pleasure in his pipe however, spouting smoke rings as he walks along.
Davor glares at the lawman, disliking him and the town more by the second. It tests the limits of his restraint to keep from throttling the sherrif after seeing his rough treatment of Faethor Grimmas.
Continuing along the town road, your feelings of trepidation grow as each step brings you closer & closer to where a part of each of you knows the dark genesis of this morning's disturbance is to be found. At the intersection, almost all doubt flees for Sheriff Caeller takes the left-hand way & continues on, past two notably dilapidated houses on the Southern Outskirts of Ravengro. "Were's yer mate Gibs, Faethor? You don't say boo he ent with yer ta back ya." The Sheriff queries, his glance flicking over the second house.
"Gibs...
Ya want ta know where he is, !" Faethor yells in a failed attempt to claim some measure of control of the situation he himself instigated. Pointing back to the house you have all passed, "Why don't you traipse up & knock all dainty-like? Er ya scairt like ya was back at the Necramancer's place?"
Faethor yells as Sheriff Caeller simultaneously switches his grip from the man's shirt collar to his left shoulder while also tripping & turning him around to fall to the ground. All of you hear the pop as Faethor's left arm dislocates itself at the shoulder.
"You wanna watch yer tongue Faethor Grimmas. Specially when you know piss-all about what yer talkin'. Consider yerself lucky I caint smell no trace o' fresh blood on yer & it's obvious ya aint bathed since Erastus."
Also Erastus corresponds to August as Calistril corresponds to February. Faethor isn't quite that stinky...
Though now that you think about it, you can smell alcohol on him.
As the Sheriff aids Faethor in returning to his feet & all of you continue on, obviously to the Harrowstone Memorial, the Sheriff's comment regarding fresh blood becomes clear. Even from here, almost two hundred feet away, you can see tell-tale splashes of brownish red about the base of the statue & you catch a whiff of coppery scent.
Closing the distance, just as you begin to make out the memorial plaque, you realize someone has marred that as well, painting a symbol resembling a downward-pointing arrow...
Or possibly the letter
Hearing the pop in Faethor's shoulder, Professor Rokannon glances at the Sheriff and frowns, but doesn't otherwise act on the less than disciplined use of force. Well, local rules I suppose. He thinks.
Looking at the defaced monument, he continues to puff on his pipe as he thinks.
"Blood, certainly. And reasonably fresh if we can smell it with our merely human noses. Probably left after nightfall last night; otherwise someone would have told the Sheriff here. But Human or Animal I wonder; Sheriff, can you tell us if anyone in town is injured or gone missing since last night?"
He smokes some more, trying to think it through.
"And the letter V. Or is it Arrow Down? Do they mean something is beneath this monument? That we should dig it up?"
Does the letter V/Arrow down sigil have any Occult symbolism that I would know about?
Tamarie will attempt to find clues, tracks or anything like that.
She makes sure not to touch anything, and stay clear of anything that might have been (caused by) magical means.
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A plaque with 25 names on it is affixed to the Base of the statue.
However, they all involve other symbols/tools as well & this seems to be by itself.
From what you can tell, someone must have come here in the dead of night with a container of blood as there is no sign of struggle or violence here. From the looks of things, there is no particular symbolism or intent to any of the other swaths of blood other than to make as big a mess as possible, if the intent was to cover the statue, they would have been more thorough & precise, almost half the blood is simply spattered over the ground & even if it had all been used on the statue itself it would only have covered an area about equivalent to one leg. Not to mention the difficulty of reaching much beyond the ankles.
Unfortunately, as with most people trying to cause mischief, this one also went to considerable effort to cover their tracks. You think you see faint traces here or there, but as you try to follow them it becomes apparent they either go nowhere or turn out to be too old to have been caused by the miscreant.
As you each carefully study the desecration & the surrounding area, the Sheriff, Councilman Hearthmount, Kendra & Faethor Grimmas look on. "You see, you illiterate buffoon?!" Councilman Hearthmaount rails against Faethor & possibly against the Sheriff. "If they were somehow responsible, why would they examine the site with such care?"
"I can think of a number of reasons Councilman, but am not the one who was accusing these folks."
"Git on now Faethor Grimmas, and don't let me catch you hollerin' up & down tha town 'bout 'furreign devils' no more or you will cool yer heels in a cell fer a spell!" As the Sheriff releases the Townsman you all notice the glares he directs back as he painedly runs off seem more directed at Sheriff Caeller than at you.
"In answer to yer question Professor, no, tha only reports I or my deputies have received this day would be the one we are responding to now."
At mention of digging up the monument expressions of mingled shock, disgust & incredulity cross both Councilman Hearthmount & Sheriff Caeller's faces. "Ya try that & I kin guarantee you won't have just fools like Faethor Grimmas & Gibs Hephenus callin' out against yer!" Sheriff Caeller retorts. "Folks 'round here set a lotta score by the guards what died in tha fire what brought down tha prison. They're not like ta stand fer further desecration."
"I'll have one o' tha fellas down here this afternoon ta scrub away this filth." Sheriff Caeller promises Councilman Hearthmount as he heads back the way you all came. "Folks, as I promised, I'll take my leave of yer. I understand you'll like to be stayin' with us a spell & hope tha next time we see each other it'll be under less...
stressful circumstances." The sheriff catches both Davor & Tamarie's eyes specifically as he mentions stressful.
Professor Rokannon looks around.
"Hm. No obvious signs of a struggle. Whoever it was probably brought the blood in a container of some sort..."
He looks up at the statue.
"And on a statue memorializing some guards who died in a prison fire. There must be more to this somewhere."
He gives a double take at the Sheriffs comments.
"What? Someone thought WE did this?"
Looking at Faethor going off, then at Tamarie and Rokanon
So , what do you think of this mess? And i'm not talking about the rough ways of the local law officer. By the way, Sir Heartmount, when we'll have finished here, could you be so kind as to indicate me the house of that poor fellow, Faethor? Maybe because the sheriff's able to pop someone's shoulder, he think that he's free to do it....but i think i'm able to pop it back in place, and i'll take the freedom to do it too. There was no excuse for that, in my eyes.
Vivian looks angry and scornful
"This was not a beast, this was a man.. A man smart enough to cover his tracks, and a man whose goal it was to make this place stand out. Must be something to do with the statue? Did anyone rebuild something on top of where it burned down?"
Tamarie will give Vivian a meaningful look saying "We need all the help we can get!" before continueing.
"This reeks of foul magic. Professor Rokannon?"
"Ahem." Councilman Hearthmount coughs, an expression of slight embarrassment on his face at Professor Rokannon's query. " was actually the precedent to our arrival at your domus, Miss Lorrimor."
"It seems mister Grimmas was preparing some activity here along the riverside & he noticed the scent of blood near the Memorial. When he found it in this state, his personal inclination was to blame 'strangers'. As the strangest people currently here in Ravengro, you were the obvious culprits in his eyes..."
"We're a bit...
Provincial,
here in Ravengro, I'm afraid." Kendra adds. Given his & Gibs words in the Restlands, it doesn't surprise me that Faethor would seek to blame you for this...
desecration,
unfortunately the only way to describe it I'm afraid."
"It would srike his particularly hard I suspect."[/b] She adds, pointing to one of the names. "Sandor Grimmas was one of the guards who died. He was Faethor's grandfather I beleive."
At Vivian's offer, Kendra's expression brightens somewhat. "It would be well to make the offer...
but don't be surprised if it isn't received in the manner intended. That particular crowd tends to distrust everything & everyone that they haven't known all their lives. They don't even consider me a 'true' Ravengro citizen & I've lived here over half my life!"
"This was not a beast, this was a man.. A man smart enough to cover his tracks, and a man whose goal it was to make this place stand out. Must be something to do with the statue? Did anyone rebuild something on top of where it burned down?"
Tamarie will give Vivian a meaningful look saying "We need all the help we can get!" before continuing.
"This reeks of foul magic. Professor Rokannon?"
"The Statue commemorates the Harrowstone Fire & the deaths of the Guards who died when the Prison burned down, miss. is still there, look." As he points to a just-visible structure atop a hill to the South of you all. "It stands yet, but no one with any sense goes there now, it's not sound...
"Those without sense say the Prison is haunted by the spirits of those trapped within when it caught fire." Kendra adds grimly.
The others get a meaningful look.
"Did you father ever go there, miss Kendra?"
"What? Oh yes, of course. A basic check for the presence of Magic. A moment if you please."
Professor Rokannon mutters a quick word, folds his hand into a triangle and opens his eyes and concentrates.
Wierdly, the large Azlanti amulet he wears in the shape of a closed eye, opens with a *snick*; the bizarre squre pupilled eye stares out at the monument with an unearthly purple light before closing again.
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"Did your father ever go there, miss Kendra?"
Though her face crumples slightly at the reminder of her father, Kendra's expression turns to one of resolve Unfortunately, just as she is about to answer, Councilman Hearthmount retorts. "His body was found dead there not two & a half weeks ago! His head crushed by fallen masonry! I told him & Sheriff Caeller it was a fool's errand!"