Having traveled some distance to attend Professor Lorrimor's funeral, you have finally made it to the town of Ravengro.
The air is crisp and a thin fog lays low over the ground, obscuring fallen leaves and rough patches of grass. Black birds wheel overhead under an overcast sky.
The Reslands, the grave site in Ravengro, is surrounded by a low stone wall that is about 350-some feet in length.
As you approach the entrance to the Restlands, you see thin, attractive woman standing next to a fine coffin. She notices you and hails you eloquently with her hand.
Pulling her cloak tight to ward off the cold of the morning fog, a strange small woman arrives upon the back of a rather oddly hued large cat. The deep hood of her purple dyed woolen cloak is adorned with a black veil which obscures the woman's face entirely. Behind the veil is a pure white alabaster face, showing no emotion at all. As she dismounts with practiced ease, the woman slips off her pack, and straightens up her gloves before producing a small deck of cards. After just a moment of fumbling, she pulls out a single card to show. It simply reads.
"Hello, My Name is Ezra Savet."
Flipping the card over, the back is similarly inscribed with:
"I am Deaf. I can neither Hear nor Speak."
Putting the card back away, the gnome next produces a small blackboard from her pack, along with a well used nub of a piece of chalk. She studies the board for a moment, then prints, quite neatly:
"I am here for the funeral of a dear friend. Can you direct me to the Lorrimor place?"
The woman holds the board out, along with the chalk, as if expecting a reply.
Throughout the entire exchange, the woman's alabaster face never changes. Not so much as a blink of the eyes.
A rather frail-looking man follows suit, having taken care up till now to keep his distance from the odd, feline-riding woman. Not out of any particular fear or revulsion, but simply out of the paranoia instilled in all sensible Ustalavs. Unfortunately, this also made him rather oblivious to Ezra's rather apparent condition. As she fumbles with her deck of cards, Edwyn reluctantly shuffles to her side at arm's length, doing his best to avert his eyes from the dangerous-looking animal just feet away. When it becomes clear that Ezra was not going to speak up, he takes a single step forward.
In his current state, he was by no means an attractive man; his gaunt cheeks, sunken eyes and unkempt brown hair were a testament to just how much sleep he must have gotten over the past few days. His drab robes, worn by travel, were hardly appropriate for the occasion, but the hapless wizard had not thought to acquire better vestments. Perhaps just now realizing these things, he is rightfully embarrassed as he approaches the rather attractive woman.
"A-are you perhaps... K-kendra Lorrimor?" Edwyn asks, his hands fidgeting as he does so. His eyes move between the lovely woman and the coffin repeatedly, as though he expected either one of them to reply.
The crunching of gravel behind the small woman & the robed man signals the arrival of a tall, slender young man clad in grey studded leather armor with gold trim, a red coat hanging off his shoulders like a cloak and a red, wide-brimmed slouch hat partially covering his right eye. Cassiel looks over at the small woman and takes note of her cards & chalkboard before eying the frail, robed man with an arched eyebrow.
Wow, when was the last time he slept?
It's at this point he notices that the small woman's (The card said Ezra Savet, right?) face never changes. He also notices the large cat the woman rode in on.
Okay, do NOT make her angry. She has a tiger and I don't.
He fingers the holy symbol of Sarenrae around his neck before approaching the attractive woman the frail man is talking to. He glances behind him briefly, as though looking for someone that was supposed to be following him as he approaches her.
"Excuse me, are you Kendra Lorrimor?" He asks quietly.
The clink of metal bouncing off the scales of her worn and dented armor is all the introduction that the stern faced woman gives as she approaches the scene playing out in front of her. She has made no effort to conceal the greataxe attached to her back and warhammer swinging at her side, her blonde hair effortlessly flowing around the axe that stands almost as tall as her. The idea that perhaps battle attire is not appropriate for a funeral never occurs to her as she approaches the gathering crowd in front of her, taking note of the people in front of her.
Studying the last individual to arrive, Ezebelle sighs under her breath as she approaches.
Wide-brimmed hat, gold trimmed armor... that must be Cassiel. Maybe he has finally killed that annoying habit of being himself.
The other individuals, though intriguing don't foster any noticeable reaction from Ezebelle, save a casual glance and momentary pause as she analyzes the large cat that the tiny woman is using as a mount.
At least the tiny person brought something to protect herself with, that man looks like a stiff wind could bring him down.
"Kendra, I am here for Petros' funeral." She states to the woman beside the coffin.
Better to assume who she is, and be wrong, then to ask unnecessary questions.
The clanking of armour and weapons heralsd the arrival of yet another warrior. A man with dark grey hair, and yet an attractive youthful face approaches. His scale mail is partially obscured by the Iomedaen red tabard he wears over it. Slung over his back are a quiver of arrows and a bow, and at his side is the favored weapon of his deity; a longsword with the Inheritor's symbol on the hilt. On his arm is still strapped a small buckler. A multi-colored kapenia hangs at his neck, and swooshes lightly in the breeze.
The man sends only a glance in the direction of the gathering crowd, nodding in their general direction. He approaches the attractive woman, and stands before her. "I am Utho of Caliphas, paladin in service to the Inheritor. I offer my condolences. Here is my invitiation."
As Utho produces his invitation, Cassiel follows suit, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a letter, still neatly rolled up in a scroll tube.
He spares only a quick glance at Ezebelle before turning back to the lady in front of him. He seems quite subdued today; none of his usual devil-may-care attitude is being shown in his actions.
And there's Ezebelle. Still as business-like as ever. Well, at least she won't have a problem fitting in with everyone else here.
"I don't believe we've been introduced; I'm Cassiel Hawke. I studied under your father for a couple of months alongside her." He motions with his head in Ezebelle's direction.
The woman before you is dressed in dark, conservative clothing. She regards you with curiosity and relief, but an overbearing sadness covers all. Her eyes are red and puffy.
"Hello. I am indeed Kendra Lorrimor. Thank you for coming. I wish that we could have met under better circumstances." She physically struggles to straighten her face and continues "I recognize two of you. You would be Ezebelle Thesun and you are Edwyn Varro. My father spoke of you as two of his brightest students. The others, while I do not recognize, I can only assume befriended my father through your intelligence as well. Or perhaps you saved him during his whimsical excursions. He was quite the fearless wanderer..." Her eyes tear up and she covers her mouth with her hand and sobs a single time, holding further sobs back, but just barely. "I'm sorry. Please, we should continue to the burial site. Those of you who would, please help me carry the coffin. I'll need at least three, but all of you can help."
Cassiel nods his head, then walks to the front of the coffin. He bends over, and takes hold of one of the coffin handles. He makes no move to lift it until he has assistance.
After allowing her eyes to wander blankly skyward, Kendra shakes of a bit of the gloom. "Oh. Forgive me Cassiel. My father did mention you as well. I've been dealing so much lately with his academic correspondences that I nearly forgot of the brave Chelish man who helped stave off the undead on your way to Caliphas."
Ezra nods, and attempts to take the young woman's hand for a gentle squeeze to indicate sympathy before quickly jotting down, "I fear I am to small." Quickly erasing, she adds, "But we would be honored to ride along behind"
Ah, the others must already be at the burial site, Edwyn thinks to himself grimly, nodding quietly to affirm his identity. He could do little else but wring his hands during Kendra's moment of weakness. There were at least twenty dozen different things he could think to say about how brilliant Professor Lorrimor was, but none of them struck him as being particularly comforting. So rather than babble on about his condolences, he stands there quietly.
At Kendra's request for pallbearers, the wizard glances side to side nervously. He could just barely haul around a stack of textbooks - the prospect of accidentally dropping his dear mentor absolutely terrified him.
Ezebelle sullenly walks over to the coffin, and sets herself up opposite Cassiel. A look of sadness and pain momentarily presents itself upon her face and a single tear crawls itself down her face before she manages to compose herself.
Get it together. This is no time for weakness.
Cassiel nods at Ezebelle and prepares to lift the coffin up. He glances back at Utho before he does so.
Wait--wasn't he there saving the professor and I as well? Yes, he must be--I'd recognize that head of hair anywhere.
He shakes his head, and bites his lip.
Dammit, hold it together. Just focus on the road ahead.
And try not to drop the coffin.
Ezra's face remains emotionless as she mounts her beast friend, and falls into line just behind the procession, leaving a respectful distance between herself and those closest to the professor. As the party begins its trek to the professors final resting place, Ezra remove a scrap of black ribbon and ties it to her short spear before casting light on the weapon. As the party moves, she does her best to keep them within the circle of radiance.
Best to let those closest to the professor have their time of grief in peace."
Kendra takes up a fourth position as pallbearer and together you lift the coffin. It is of considerable weight, but will not be difficult to carry a medium distance.
You begin your path towards the grave site, heading in through an opening in the low stone wall. To your left as mausoleums and to your right there is a yard of graves just over a hundred feet long. The path meets a three way split. The middle path reaches the center of the Restlands where there are multiple elaborately designed mausoleums. The right path circles the aforementioned grave yard and heads back out past the low stone wall towards Ravengro. The third path heads to the left. All around you are gravestones in various states of disrepair. A few small trees litter the area, letting go of their last leaves for the season.
"We shall be taking the left path, the Dreamwake. The middle path is the Ancestor's Walk. Down it are the oldest of Ravengro's dead. The rest of those attending the funeral await us on the other side." Kendra seems to be collecting herself, as the presence of others and their apparent care for the late Petros Lorrimor gives her some small comfort.
"'Tis a beautiful time of year, dear professor, you did love the woods at season's change. It is a good time as any to die. May your time in this sacred ground be peaceful and free of worry. I am sorry I never came back to you, but I was afraid of what you would say when you saw what I had done to myself. By the by, your kin here seems most wonderful. I sense some of you is strong in her. I will do what I can for her, seeing as I failed you.
As the gnome continues her final prayers to her mentor, she begins to weep silently under her mask, and is grateful for the concealment the wooden facade grants.
Cassiel nods, and prepares to turn onto the Dreamwake. His arms are beginning to feel the strain of carrying the coffin, but one look at Ezebelle & Kendra is enough to spur him into ignoring it.
I really should have done more heavy lifting when I was a kid...
The crunch of fallen leaves accompanies his footsteps, almost impossibly loud in the silence surrounding the pallbearers.
Hearing Kendra's directions Ezebelle prepares to begin the walk through the Dreamwake. She can feel that the coffin seems to be getting heavier, and suspects that some of her fellow pallbearers may not be quite up to the weight of the ornate coffin.
A glance at Cassiel seems to confirm her suspicions as she see him falter for just a moment. She shifts her weight slightly, attempting to relieve as much of the weight of the coffin as possible from him.
The burden of burying a friend is heavy enough already. No reason to make Cassiel suffer more then he already is.
Utho continues in silence. The crunching leaves from his feet, and the clanging of metal from his movements the only noise from the paladin's position on the coffin.
I think I recognize the one called Cassiel. Wasn't he there two when I came upon the professor? Perhaps he knew the professor better than I, for I only met him the once in passing. It is good to know that, at least for now, this man doesn't seem bothered by my true nature.
Edwyn keeps in pace with the others, closely following the pallbearers. He felt bad about having Kendra shoulder the heavy burden, but he was not so sure that he could bear it himself, in more ways than one. Nodding as she directs them towards the Dreamwake, all along the way he gloomily stares at the Professor's coffin. Yet despite his melancholy demeanor, no tears are shed; he had long grown accustomed to death and funerals. Asides from that, it felt odd to grieve alongside folk he had scarcely met before.
We had always pondered the meaning of life and death, you and I. Jumping into things, without a second thought... you have always been better at that than myself. And now here we are.
Cassiel feels some of the burden on his arms shift; the coffin becomes easier for him to carry. He glances over at Ezebelle, a slight smile on his lips.
Thanks. Now I look like a weakling in front of everyone.
Seriously though, thanks.
Cassiel spares a quick glance back at Utho, remembering the day he saved both his and the professor's life. I almost didn't recognize you in your human shape. It's been, what... six months now?
The path before you ends into a path running perpendicular.
"We shall head to the ri..." Kendra's voice stops abruptly, distracted by something she sees.
On the path to right, just coming into view behind a mausoleum, stands a group of a dozen surly locals. Some stand with arms crossed and others are holding various farm tools- pitchforks, wooden chair legs, sickles and shovels.
"That's far enough." Booms the tallest among them. An elderly but wiry fellow, he has the rough appearance of a soldier, probably retired.
"Good sir, why do you stop this procession? In case you didn't notice, we are having a funeral. Please, step aside. Perhaps you and I could speak about this once we have set down this casket?" Utho says to the man as he motions to his fellow pallbearers to lower the load to the ground.
Not having a particular voice to add to the disagreement, Ezra dismounts and pats her tiger reassuringly on the shoulder.
"This is not the time nor the place to do this. Get out of the way now." Ezebelle growls.
She motions to Utho that she agrees that lowering the casket is probably a good idea and changes her positioning to better facilitate lowering of the casket once the rest of the pallbearers are ready.
Ezra stares blankly a moment, as if trying to figure out what is going on. After a couple of seconds, she puts her hands up peacefully, and stabs her spear into the ground before carefully removing her chalkboard and chalk from her pack. Once it is safely out, she again fetches her card from her belt pouch. She she approaches the angry looking men, she scrawls, "We are merely here to bury a good friend. Please let us pass." She shows her card stating her name and condition to the men, as well as the message on the board. Then carefully returns the items from whence they came, making no attempt to return to her weapon.
Cassiel says nothing, but lowers the coffin to the ground when everyone else begins to.
He appears to be waiting for a more opportune time to speak, but he's eying the apparent ringleader of the people in front of them in case the situation turns ugly.
Cassiel tries to read the mood of the crowd behind the leader.
Realizing that this situation may turn dangerous for the peasants in front of her, Ezebelle studies the crowd, trying to determine if weapons will be necessary.
Half of the crowd seems ready to drive you out of the cemetery with force. The other half is vindictive, but will not likely try to harm you in any way.
"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!" The tall old man continues, his voice boisterous.
Kendra is swift to respond, her sadness transforming into anger. "What are you talking about?" She cries out.
Cassiel has had a very trying day. It wasn't enough that a man he greatly respected and admired passed away, but now a bunch of jumped up farmers were going to deny the professor his final rest. He finishes setting the coffin down.
He looks the leader squarely in the eye, glaring at him, staring him down. The next words out of his mouth are practically spat at him in a cold, even tone.
"Look at her." Cassiel gestures to Kendra. "Take a good, long look at her face. That is the face of someone who just lost her father." Cassiel glances over at Ezebelle, then back to the man in front of him. "Look at her. That is the face of someone who knows that sort of pain VERY well."
Cassiel steps closer to the man. "Look at my face. Do you see something wrong? This is the face of a man who not only knows that pain well, he also has NO patience for this."
Cassiel stops in front of the man, hands clenching and relaxing. "How would you like it if your father suddenly passed away, and a bunch of idiots decided the only place where he is worthy of resting is in the f**king river? Listen to yourselves. You ought to be ashamed of such inexcusable behavior."
"N-now I'm sure there is a p-perfectly valid explanation for this," Edwyn stammers, wanting to diffuse the situation if at all possible. He had not anticipated that the rest of the guests would be in an angry mob. Looking to the apparent leader of the mob, the wizard asks: "Why c-can't he be buried here? It is the L-lady of Graves' job to j-judge the dead - not yours."
Ezebelle is slightly taken aback by Cassiel's aggression, and a little impressed. She sports an almost imperceptible grin due to his outburst.
I don't think I've ever seen him like this...
"This is not the time for violence, but I have every intention of burying my friend in his rightful place. I can assure you that place is not the river. Move. Now.
Though making no overtly aggressive moves yet, Ezebelle faces the crowd directly, and prepares herself for a coming conflict.
A few of the unarmed thugs towards the back of the mob begin to speak frantically at the tall old man, but he ignores them, so bullheaded as not to be persuaded by your speech.
Kendra shouts:"I arranged it with Father Grimburrow. He's waiting for us! The grave's already be.."
"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 scoffs, taken back by the interruption. She spits: "Necromancy!? Are you really that ignorant?"
The mob is infuriated by the insult; they start to shout profanities and protests. Those of you holding the coffin have safely laid it on the ground and are free to act. Six of the angry townsfolk step forward wielding their farm tools, snarling, poised to attack.
The tall old man barks "Leave, Kendra. Take these interlopers with you, before you get hurt."
(edit: Math)
The angry townies stand four in front, side by side with the extreme two off in the dying grasses beside the pathway, the southern most next to the aforementioned mausoleum. Two stand side by side on the path immediately behind the front four. The remaining mob is ten feet behind them, but appears to be backing away very slightly, as is the tall old man.
Ezra, Edwyn and Cassiel stand side by side with ten feet in between you and the front-most townies. Ezebelle, Utho and Kendra are just behind them, alongside the coffin on the ground in the center of the intersection of the pathways.
"Stand down, now. This is a fight you cannot win."
Seeing that his threat is falling on deaf ears, Utho initiates a change. His hair begins to grow, his face elongates, his teeth sharpen. He groans as he morphs into his bestial form. Once it is finished, he looks again to the ringleader. "I warned you."
Edwyn's initiative:
Ezebelle's initiative:
20
Utho's Initiative:
15
Townies Initiative:
15
Cassiel's:
10
Ezra's:
What!? The Professor, a necromancer? That can't be right... can it? I mean, I'm a necromancer, but... No, wait a minute. What's wrong with necromancy!?
"Oh dear," Edwyn murmurs as whatever color remains in his face drains away. He had not expected the mob to actually be willing to hurt Kendra. He was not very much of a gentleman, but he couldn't just stand by and let harm come to an innocent woman - much less his mentor's daughter. Still, hurting these people was not really an option. Hm. I don't have the right spell prepared. So I'll just have to...
Clutching the spiral amulet hanging around his neck, Edwyn steps forward and tosses a handful of colored sand into the angry mob.