Kendra listens intently to Petyr's ramblings on magic and the study of it, her attention quite apparently captured by his technical knowledge and unorthodox propositions.
"I suppose, from a certain point of view, that healing magic could be seen as a form of necromancy, in that it deals with the fundamentals of life and death. That is a very good point..." she says, drifting off into thought.
"You know, you sound just like my father, in all of his excitement about the field of necromancy and his arcane studies. I am glad that he seemed to have found a partner to shate in his enthusiasm."
After what seems like a much longer time than it actually was, you arrive at Kendra's house. It is just hers alone now, after all. She invites you in with a wave, unlocking the door and moving in.
"What'll it be, gentleman?" she asks, moving over to what you assume is the alcohol cabinet.
Petyr is glad to have an arcane conversation partner, and continues gushing with Kendra about the specifics of her field of study.
Inside Kendra's home, Petyr doffs his mud-soaked boots and rain jacket, wishing that he had worn a cap this day. His hair drips from the rain, and he wishes for a moment that he had some cantrip sort of effect to dry off more effectively. He places his rapier in the corner with the rest of his effects and walks towards the cabinet.
"Do you have any brandy?" he asks. "Something to warm the belly seems in order after this morning's unpleasantness."
Kendra listens intently to Petyr, seeming genuinely interested in what he has to say.
"Interesting, brandy was my father's favorite drink. He must have loved spending time with you!" she says, laughing lightly as she takes a bottle and glass out and pours Petyr a small drink.
"And the rest of you, gentlemen?"
"I honestly spent more time with your father talking about my struggles than my studies. I've chosen some hard paths, and had a few hard paths chosen for me." Pace says, sipping his drink.
"He was always patient and kind, but never hesitant to tell me he thought I was in the wrong." he says, staring off into nothing.
"He was the first to tell me 'impossibility of success is not a good reason to stop trying'. He taught me that a hundred victories sometimes requires a thousand losses."
"Brandy is fine for me too," Andrei answers as he follows Petyr's lead in slipping of his muddy boots and rain-soaked cloak.
After Pace reflects on his time with the professor, he follows that lead as well, "our talks were very different... no theory or speculation, just the practical and tangible: where to strike an animated skeleton to do the most damage, how to tell a ghoul from a zombie, signs that someone might actually be a vampire. His lessons may not have saved my life yet, but I have no doubt they will one day."
"The sternum, intelligence, and lack of a shadow, if I recall correctly," Petyr offers, checking with Andrei. The slaying was more Andrei's bag, but Petyr wanted to make sure he was still appropriately equipped. "Petros always did prize practical components in his lectures."
"Right on all three counts," Andrei answers, raising his glass in congratulations. Then he adds, "but the lack of shadow can be hard to spot, given their avoidance of bright lights; their lack of reflection is often easier to notice. You can check while polishing a blade or armor, or even on the surface of silverware while eating."
"Huh," Petyr says simply, thinking about Andrei's clarification while raising his own glass. "That's a smart trick, Andrei. Subtle, too. Did you pick that up from the Professor, or another source?"
Petyr immediately begins thinking about whether he had read about that sort of thing in any of his dear old great aunt's novels. If not...well, what a treat that would be to write in one of his own someday.
Kendra listens intently to the trio talking and trading stories, pouring out a drink for Andrei as well.
Soon, however, the conversation is interrupted by a knock at the door. "Ah, that must be him." Kendra says, before moving over to let the man in. He shakes the rain off of his coat before taking it off and hanging it on a rack. Moving into the room you all are in, he procures a scroll case sealed by a wax seal you recognize as the professor's.
"I am Councilman Vashian Hearthmount, the closest thing this town has to a solicitor. I'm here to read out Professor Lorrimor's will. Shall we begin, then?"
"Thank you for coming, Councilman." Pace replies, standing to greet the new face.
"We are indeed ready. Are we waiting for any others?"
Petyr bows his head at Councilman Hearthmount enters. "Right--are we the only recipients--?" Or just the only ones who showed up...
Petyr doesn't like the pattern if that's the case. Why would Petros have settled here with all his influence across the country--nay, across the region? A backwater filled with the suspicious...
No, no, he'd advise you against that sort of thinking and get you to look at it another way. What would he say? 'You may not be able to change minds even with sufficient evidence to the contrary, but you can still be kind.' Hearts and minds and all that stuff.
Whether that mattered when you were dead was something between you and your gods.
Then again, maybe the will could be read piecemeal to whomever was gathered, with other recipients contacted separately as needed. Contract law wasn't something that Petyr had paid much attention to at the University. Leave that to the devils.
"But of course, we're ready if you are."
He nods silently towards the group, and unseals the scroll case before beginning to read.
"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 or sell 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 in Ravengro on this
first day of Calistril.
Vashian takes a long breath after finishing the reading, letting the professors' final words sink in with the group.
"Well, that is certainly a lot to take in. I am sure the professor knew we would be happy to honor his wishes without compensation, it was generous of him to include such remuneration. I wonder what dangers he expects Kendra to face in the next month that will then somehow abate?" Pace says.
Books! While it was merely a loan rather than an inheritance, the opportunity to read such dangerous literature intrigues Petyr. Knowledge of one's enemies could prove a potent force indeed. Petyr could read a lot in a month. By Pharasma's grace, his advisors might not even hang him out to dry if he returned with re-written chapter for his dissertation, better informed and more well-crafted.
The scholar barely even considers that Kendra might be in danger until Pace brings it up. That was odd phrasing. "Kendra, while your father appeared to have drawn the ire of some townsfolk, do you have any reason to believe that your own well-being is at risk? Or is Petros just looking out for you."
"I should have brought more clothes..."
"I'm sure we can find you something.....respectable from my wardrobe." Pace replies with a grin.
"I'm sure there must be someone in town here who sells... the type of clothes common here," Andrei answers. Gesturing towards his wet but rather fancy court apparel, he adds, "I have these clothes--once they're washed and dried--if we have the opportunity to gather with other gentlemen, and I have the leathers I wear in the wilderness, but I could use something a little simpler for everyday wear if we're gonna be here for a month."
Turning to Kendra he smiles a bit sheepishly and asks, "assuming you'll have us? I hate to impose on your hospitality, but seeing how it was your dad's final request... would you mind hosting us for the month?"
After the councilman finishes reading the will, he nods to Kendra, who thanks him and opens the door for him to leave once more.
"I can't think of any particular danger he may mean, but I am more than willing to have the three of you stay here for the month he requested." Kendra hesitates for a few seconds before apparently deciding to continue.
"I need a few weeks to decide whether or not I want to stay in Ravengro or put all of this behind me and leave, so I doubt I'll be leaving any time soon anyway. But anyway, let me go get that chest, I know the one he spoke of."
The chest itself is a relatively small object of oak and iron, quite unassuming. Kendra, seeming nervous about what may be inside, holds out the key to the chest to whoever is closest.
"You should have the...honor...of opening it."
Petyr takes the key as he thinks about the timing of the will's certification and the Professor's death. He had known that his time was short, which was disconcerting on its own. He wonders if there had been a previous iteration of his Will filed away elsewhere, one that had been overwritten due to new knowledge. Perhaps Petros had contracted a disease, or...a wasting curse. Either way, it was something that, despite the Professor's considerable means, he was unable to abate.
"Kendra," Petyr begins as he reaches the key for the chest, "I'm sorry to ask, but it seems important if we are to be staying here." He kneels down and places the key in the chest, turns the key in the lock and hearing the tumblers click into place. "How did your father die?"
He pauses before opening the unlocked chest, looking back up at Kendra. Her answer may not change his mind about opening the chest, but it would certainly inform his reaction to what he found inside.
Andrei waits patiently to hear Kendra's answer and see what's in the chest.
Kendra speaks up, her voice suddenly heavy with grief once more.
”We found him…up by the old prison. He had mentioned wanting to study it, being interested in what happened to it after the fire. One night he didn’t come back and the next morning we found him, crushed by an old crumbling grave stone outside the walls of the prison. It was so awful…” she bursts into tears as the end of the sentence drags on into the room.
”Y-you should open it. He wanted you to.”
Crushed. Well, that could be accidental or intentional. Petyr doubts he could tell much more even if he visited the site. He nods, and opens the chest, hoping that Andrei or Pace will comfort Kendra through the tears.
"I'm sorry it had to be you that found him. Let the tears come, Kendra. they will help with the healing, though it will take time." Pace says, trying to sound reassuring.
studying some old prison, huh... we should definitely go check that out tomorrow...
Andrei tries to appear nonchalant as he gazes by Petyr to see what's in the box.
The key opens the box easily, revealing its contents to the group. Sitting on top of a stack of books is a relatively new looking smaller book with the message "Read me now!" scratched into the leather cover.
The other four books are of a much older source, all of the edges weathered and rough with age and use. These must be the books the professor wants you to deliver to the University of Lepidstadt. Well, besides the smaller leather one, it almost looks like a journal.
Petyr's eyes alight at the sight of the books. While the older books look much more interesting, the scratched message makes it fairly clear what he should do. He passes the other books around for examination and interest, while he opens the journal and begins flipping through it.
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The first book appears to be a journal, with a number of entries dating back many years, starting around ten years ago. Most of the entries are boring day-to-day activities and unremarkable. As Petyr flips through it, however, he notices a pattern of certain ones circled in red ink, with the last entry being dated 17 days ago.
Two Months Ago: It is as I had feared. The Way is interested in something here in Ravengro. But what could it be?
One Month Ago: Whatever the Way seeks, I am now convinced their goal is connected to Harrowstone. In retrospect, I suppose it all makes sense—the stories they tell about the ruins in town are certainly chilling enough. It may be time to investigate the ruins, but with everyone in town already being so worked up about them, I’d rather not let the others know about my curiosity—there’s plenty of folks hereabouts who already think I’m a demonologist or a witch or something. Ignorant fools.
Twenty Days Ago: It is confirmed. The Way seems quite interested in something—no, strike that—someone who was held in Harrowstone. But who, specifically, is the Way after? I need a list of everyone who died the night of the fire. Everyone. The Temple of Pharasma must have such a list.
Eighteen Days Ago: I see now just how ill prepared I was when I last set out for the Harrowstone. I am lucky to have returned at all. The ghosts, if indeed they were ghosts (for I did not find it prudent to investigate further) prevented me from transcribing the strange symbols I found etched along the foundation—hopefully on my next visit I will be more prepared. Thankfully, the necessary tools to defend against spirits are already here in Ravengro. I know that the church of Pharasma used to store them in a false crypt in the Restlands at the intersection between Eversleep and the Black Path. I am not certain if the current clergy even know of what their predecessors have hidden down below. If my luck holds, I should be able to slip in and out with a few borrowed items.
Seventeen Days Ago: Tomorrow evening I return to the prison. It is imperative the Way does not finish. My caution has already cost me too much time. I am not sure what will happen if I am too late, but if my theory is right, the entire town could be at risk. I don’t have time to update my will, so I’ll leave this in the chest where it’ll be sure to be found, should the worst come to pass.
The other books are much more of an academic nature, with each one being bound in exquisite leathers and materials. Attached to the back of the first is a note that requests this book be delivered discretely to a Embreth Daramid, a judge at the Lepidstadt Courthouse, and includes his private address. The remaining three books are to be delivered to one Montagnie Crowl, a professor of antiquities ar Lepidstadt University.
Manual of the Order of the Palantine Eye: this book is ornately decorated, and rimmed in polished steel. Clasped with a small but intricate looking lock, the key of which appears to have some sort of triangular shaft. The key is also nowhere to be found. .
On Verified Madness: This jet-black book is a treatise on aberrations and other entities found on Golarion that possess remote ties to the Dark Tapestry, the name given to the dark places between the stars in the night sky.
Serving Your Hunger: This text is a copy of one of several unholy books sacred to the goddess Urgathoa. Lorrimor’s notations liberally sprinkle the margins.
The Umbral Leaves: This lexicon is a translation into Common of the unholy book of Zon-Kuthon.
Petyr looks over the books to be delivered, wondering about Professor Lorrimor's investigations. Petyr knew that the Professor had been a stalwart defender against the undead, but this was dark material. Knowledge of one's enemy is the surest path to victory over its plans...
The journal is quite revealing. "What did he get himself into?" With Kendra's permission, Petyr reads a few of the more pressing elements aloud.
"Well this could explain why the Professor wanted us to stay. And it may have been what got him killed, too." It could get us killed, too, if we're not careful. The young scholar shakes his head, feeling a bit of rainwater still drying there. "The Professor seems to think that the town is at risk, so that would seem to elevate this from 'ensure that my daughter is safe and sound' to 'finish what I started' territory."
Petyr flips through the book--all of the books really--to see if perhaps the Professor had found the list of Harrowstone inhabitants that he had been looking for. Then there's the false crypt--had he been able to get there and get the items as he had planned?
"Your father was a brave man," Petyr offers. "I intend to honor his wishes, of course."
Andrei listens attentively as Petyr reads. When the scholar finishes commenting, he looks to the professor's daughter and asks, "Kendra, do you know where that is, 'the intersection between Eversleep and the Black Path'?"
There’s no apparent list of Harrowstone inhabitants in the journal, and the professor doesn’t ever mention having found it.
Kendra answers calmly, seemingly trying to process all the new information she has been fed recently.
”Yes, the Eversleep and the Black Path are the names of two of the pathways inside of the graveyard. The temple of Pharasma upkeeps all of the crypts in there, I’m sure you’d have to get permission from them before you go breaking into any ‘false crypts’.”
”If the town is in danger, and my father both worked to protect it and also trusts you to protect it as well, then I am sure I can trust you as well. Feel free to stay here as long as necessary, until the month is up and you have to leave for Lepidstadt.”
Looking over the locked book, Petyr frowns and sighs. "I have been practicing my lockpicking skills, but this may be beyond my ken. I certainly don't want to break anything here."
Curiosity would have to wait. For this at least.
Still, as Kendra provides useful information, that abstract curiosity seems like it won't have to wait forever. "Well, all being Pharasmins ourselves, we might as well go properly introduce ourselves to the Temple. Thank you for your hospitality, Kendra. We'll ensure that you and your hometown are safe."
"We will certainly do all we can to protect you, and your fathers work." Pace says to Kendra.
"We should let the Temple know of our intentions right away in the morning." He says to the others.
Andrei stands when Petyr suggests properly introducing themselves at the Temple. Then he chuckles and returns to his seat when Pace mentions the morning. "The drink must be going to my head," he jokes, "morning would be a better time to go... I suppose we should wash up and get some sleep in the meantime?"
"Sleep," Petyr says, his eyes looking over towards the books. "I suppose that's not a bad idea after the day we have had. Travel is fatiguing on its own without inclement weather, much less the emotional turmoil of a duel and the discovery of nefarious plots."
He cracks his neck and nods. "If you all are ready to retire, I won't stop you. And I will get sufficient sleep. But I'd like to stay up reading a bit longer. I imagine that Professor Lorrirmor's notes are well worth the study."
"Ah, it does seem to have gotten quite late all of a sudden." Kendra says, shocked at the time. "There are more than enough guest rooms for the three of you to room separately, should you wish to do so. I will retire to my room on the second floor, if you need me for some reason."
After cleaning up the drinks and glasses, and barring any other questions for her, she does exactly that.
Pace selects a room, but does not close the door. After a brief meditation, he sleeps soundly.
Petyr thanks Kendra and also selects a room. He deposits his traveling possessions, but then goes to the Professor's study and spreads the unlocked books in front of him. "Now, Professor, what is this Whispering Way that you're warning us about?"
Petyr begins poring over the books that the Professor left behind, cross-referencing them with other literature on his shelves. Eventually his eyes begin to cross and with a yawn he decides to go to bed and leave more reading for later.
Andrei walks through the house, making sure that all the windows and doors are locked, then picks a room for himself as well. Not having seen any servants, he fetches some water and begins washing and hanging up his clothes.
without any income from my brother, hiring a valet right now might be a bit of a stretch... I wonder how much an inexperienced footman fetches in this town... any help would be better than this...
Once finished with his laundering, he washes himself up as well. Then he tucks one of his distinctive knives under his pillow and climbs, still naked, into bed.
Agents of the Whispering Way often seek alliances with undead creatures, or are themselves undead. The Whispering Way’s most notorious member was Tar-Baphon, the Whispering Tyrant, although the society itself has existed much longer than even that mighty necromancer.
The Whispering Way itself is a series of philosophies that can only be transferred via whispers—the philosophies are never written or spoken of loudly, making the exact goals and nature of the secretive philosophy difficult for outsiders to learn much about.
Exact details on the society are difficult to discern, but chief among the Whispering Way’s goals are discovering formulae for creating liches and engineering the release of the Whispering Tyrant. Agents often travel to remote sites or areas plagued by notorious haunts or undead menaces to perform field research or even to capture unique monsters. Their symbol is a gagged skull, and those who learn too many of the Way’s secrets are often murdered, and their mouths mutilated to prevent their bodies from divulging secrets via speak with dead.
After a brief meditation, he sleeps soundly.
Eventually his eyes begin to cross and with a yawn he decides to go to bed and leave more reading for later.
Then he tucks one of his distinctive knives under his pillow and climbs, still naked, into bed.
The night carries on relatively uneventfully, with the rainstorm slowly subsiding slowly over the hours.
You awake to the smell of freshly cooking food, and discover that Kendra has taken the opportunity to prepare a breakfast for the four of you.
"Good morning!" she says, obviously trying to appear somewhat cheerful. "I won't be doing this every morning, but yesterday was somber so perhaps this will be a good omen for the coming days."
"How did you all sleep?"
"Thank you, Kendra! That's very kind. Pace says, taking a seat and digging right in.
Turning to the others, he begins plans for the day.
"To the temple first? To let them know of our presence and intentions in town? Then to the graveyard to get the lay of the land in daylight?"
Petyr ambles yawning down the stairs, his mind still racing with the pieces of the Professor's notes that he had put together the night before. An organization dedicated to knowledge so secret it was not even written down, never mind the abhorrent content of their necromantic philosophy, was anathema to the scholar in multiple ways. He dons spectacles as his nose draws him in.
"Is that eggs and bacon?" he asks hungrily, sitting down. He also inquires after a spot of coffee--a vice that has haunted him throughout his university days.
Petyr nods to Pace, making a sign of the spiral before he also digs into the food. "Right, that sounds fair. I like proceeding with official blessings." Though if it was denied, he was also happy to try to find a way to bend the rules to his advantage. Pray it didn't come to that. Yet. "I did some fascinating reading last night," he offers. "Your father's notes are interesting in and of themselves, but cross-referencing them with the other books in his library made for quite the initial investigation. There is little to nothing written about the Whispering Way, but..."
Petyr shares the summary of what he has learned.
"I'd rather not frighten the town's residents with this information just yet. Further, if there is a Way agent hanging about town, we want to be careful with whom we share the information we learn."
Before they go out to the Temple, Petyr brews up a couple of extracts (two curatives, just in case), oils his rapier and lockpicks, and makes sure that he is sufficiently clean before joining the group outside Kendra's house.
Andrei rises early to see to his morning prayers. Once they’re completed he rises and contemplates whether to get dressed in his formal attire or his hunting leathers. After considering how their simple trip to the graveyard went the previous day, he opts for the hunting leathers and then heads towards the delicious smell of breakfast.
”Thank you,” he says with a big goofy grin as he digs into the plate prepared for him. After making quick work of his food he asks, ”Miss Lorrimar, do you know if there are any young men in town in need of work? If we’re going to be here for a month, I thought maybe I’d hire a valet, but I didn’t bring enough coin to hire a trained man, so I was thinking I might try to hire someone unskilled and teach him what to do. He’d be sort of a burden at first but within a week he’d be helpful and by the time we leave he’d be ready for a real position.”
Petyr sticks his tongue out at Andrei between bites of breakfast. "What, you can't handle your own luggage and laundry for a month?"
”What I can handle and what is the best use of my time are two different things, my friend,” Andrei answers with a bit of a smirk.
Petyr chuckles. "I appreciate your drive towards efficiency, but I still say it's a waste of money. Although I suppose we do have a healthy sum coming our way."
"Sadly, coin coming our way in a month or so does little to help our circumstances right now," Andrei answers in a joking matter, though there's clearly much truth to his jest. "Maybe when we introduce ourselves at the temple we can ask if they have any paying work they need help with. That's a thing that people who have to labor for wages do, right?"
Petyr flexes his sword hand idly. "A good wage for a good day's work ought to be fair. I have a few skills that could be useful in this backw...lovely town."
Kendra is delighted to see how you react to her surprise, and is all smiles as she serves breakfast.
"As a matter of fact, it is eggs and bacon!"
She takes a second or two to think about Andrei's question, and then answers. "I can't think of anyone off hand, but I can ask around and see who may be available, for sure."