As you go about your daily lives you each receive a letter from Professor Lorrimor's daughter. For some of you it comes as a surprise to learn that the professor had a daughter and an even bigger shock that she knew how and where to contact you. It would appear that the good professor may have kept tabs on those he worked with or whom had an impact on his life.
Friend, colleague, or associate of Professor Petros Lorrimor,
It is with great sadness that I must inform you that he has died and that your presence has been requested for his funeral and the reading of his will.
The funeral will take place on 17 Calistril, 4711 in Ravengro which is in the county of Canterwall in the country of Ustalav. I have sent along a small sum to help pay your way here.
Yours in sadness,
Kendra Lorrimor
Josef stares at the letter with some confusion, the Professor has a daughter? Somehow that had never come up when they had been working together.
Slowly opening it his heart sank as he read her words, closing his eyes he whispered a prayer to Pharasma that the Professor would be judged and move on as he deserved.
Looking around his small laboratory he began closing it done, there was nothing brewing that would need his presence, once everything was shut down and the lab cleaned to his satisfaction he headed to the University office.
Arranging the time off to attend the funeral was done quickly, a surfeit of hungry graduate students were always desperate for paid employment. Someone would be filling his assistant role by the next day.
Retuning to his humble lodgings he packed carefully, tools and his alchemist kit might be unneeded but experience had taught him to keep them on hand. He also packed several alchemical journals he'd been meaning to read. The journey north would take days by carriage and something to occupy the time would be nice.
Settling in the somewhat worn carriage Josef nodded politely to the other occupants and settled down for the trip.
.
Cassandra stares dumbfoundedly at the letter she just received, the strange feminine handwriting spelling out her name and address. Tearing open the envelope she begins to read the letter inside and tears well in her mismatched eyes. She remembers the Professor fondly and the week he spent with her after her *incident* in the woods made her realize she was someone special and not to be feared, as some in her village believed.
It's hard for her to think that she had made such an impression on such a worldly man as Professor Lorrimor that he would remember her, let alone include her in his will. After explaining things to her mother and father she gathered her meager belongings and waited for the next stage to Ravengro to come through her village. As the day came she stood outside in the square, her smoke colored glasses hiding her eyes despite the gloom of the low hanging clouds. She paid the driver her silver, as he and his assistant loaded her bags on top of the coach, and she climbed inside. She smiled at the other occupants of the carriage as she settled into a seat by the window. She scanned the faces of the others as the coach lurched into motion, each person expression was inscrutable, as Ustalavan's were wont to be, but her eyes lit upon the young man by the window kitty corner from her, trying to read a book by the wan sunlight. Trying to make small talk to help pass the time she asks, inquisitively "What are you reading?"
Josef blinks as his attention is drawn from his reading by the recently arrived young lady. "Oh." He responds intelligently as he has to shift his attention from the journal to that of social interaction. "The journal of Alchemical investigations."
He straightens up and turns his eyes to her, his expression growing more animated as he speaks, clearly the subject is of interest to him."It has a very interesting essay of how the various provinces use different plants in common potions due to regional differences in their availability."
Josef is a tall, lean young man with an academic air, however he does look to be somewhat familiar with the real world. An academic who has been outside the enclosed world of the universities. :)
While he wears academic garb he also has a crossbow on his backpack ready to be used and is wearing leather armor under his overcoat.
He then remembers his manners and bows slightly from his seated position. "Josef Wayland at your service."
Preston looked at the letter with disbelief. It hadn't been long at all, perhaps a few years at most. The Professor was not so old a man that he should have perished already. Was there some variety of misadventure? Preston could see himself having had an accident in crafting which could injure or maim him, but certainly not kill, and the Professor was a more careful sort than that. He had to go, in part to sate the curiosity as to what had befallen such a great man.
This was no flight of fancy, however. The journey to Ustalav was a terribly long one: Starting in Oppara, he took a boat to Cassomir which was easy enough. Then he had a long journey up the Sellen River, a journey that could be its own tale in the telling and he might well expound upon it if given drink and a few coins. He had a stop at the Isle of Arenway, though he met no druids. They visited Calladels on the border of Andoran and Galt, so far from anything courtly yet having a marvelous reputation for its thievery. Eventually, they took the West Sellen on to the Glass and thence on to Greengold, thankfully avoiding Xer.
Preston spent a nice weeks' end at the Gray Observatory in Greengold, learning a bit and seeing heavenly bodies including some in the skies. Alas as Toilday came, he had to set out once more. He had spent nearly all of Abadius on this journey, and by the gods it would see him there on time yet. A brief stop in Caliphas some days later sent him up the Path river to finally disembark near Hallein Town, where a group of riders were set to traverse Ghorcha Pass to Ardis, where regrettably Preston had to get on yet another boat up the Vhatsuntide river, across the Vistear, and finally into Ravengro.
Preston had started the journey optimistic and hopeful. He had started the journey enamored with the travel, with the sea, with the people. He had lost a bit of that along the way. He deeply regretted having come already, what did he even imagine would be worth the travel here? And then he would have to go back afterward? The expense of the journey had been reduced by the sum he was sent, but there is no cheap way to cross half the world. Preston had spent much time playing music, dancing, and crafting small bits and bobs to ensure he could continue the travels. His clothing had required much mending, and having arrived his wardrobe was in absolute shambles. He would desperately need more clothing soon, and he was quite certain that Ustalav would not be providing anything remotely like what he was used to.
Mihai took the missive from the wagon master and opened it.
By the look on his face the wagon master could tell it was not good news, "What is it?" he asked.
"A man I knew, we knew, has died." he holds up the letter, "His daughter bids me to come to the funeral. It was that kindly scholar we had on the run to Chastel late last year. The one that almost got eaten by wolves. I liked that old man." He ponders the letter for another moment. Just as the wagon master is starting to walk away Mihai speaks, "Cord, I think I'm going to take some time away. I'm going to go to this funeral, maybe relate the wolf story and the other misadventures of that run to his daughter. The funeral's coming up fast, so I'll be heading out in the morning."
"Can't say I'm glad to hear it but I understand," Cord replied. "I'd give you a horse but I just have these cart pullers. They wouldn't know what to do with a rider."
"That's alright. I'll be fine on my own feet. I'll be taking Eeyore with me to carry my stuff though." Mihai says and then the two men parted.
The next morning, Mihai headed away from the wagon train his trusty mule, Eeyore, in tow.
Haunted Ustalav already felt so far from the sun. The cold weather was not helping, but lady Applestar always carried a mote of light with her, practically overflowing with life. The last time she was in Ustalav was to escort an evil artifact potentially related to the Whispering Tyrant to the Grand Cathedral of Pharasma in Korvosa to be properly disposed of. Her business here today is not much happier than that. She's unsure why professor Lorrimer had sent for her, and from beyond the grave... Well, his daughter had sent for her, it seemed, but Briar Rose doubts she chose randomly from people who knew her father. She had saved his life from ghouls, but she did not consider that she might be important enough to be summoned to his funeral. Other than to support Kendra, she cannot think of a real reason to attend the funeral. The church gave her time off to attend anyways. While she did not know the professor well, the news saddened her, mostly on behalf of his daughter. She has never lost a parent - though her mother is... decidedly absent - but can only imagine it is a terrible fate.
She did not have much in the way of packing to do as she was always on the move anyways. Luckily she had been to Ravengro before, on her way to her previous assignment in Ustalav, wandering much through the forest. Many would avoid the spooky forests, but not Brair Rose. Though she was a social butterfly, she enjoys alone time with nature, and even passes through a little cemetery not unlike the one she met the professor at last year. A flickering flame of curiosity burns within, a curiosity about why the professor had called for her. There was only one way to get answers.
17 Calistra, 4711
Late morning.
The weather is overcast, cold, and looks to be threating to rain at any time.
As you each enter Ravengro you are able to obtain directions to the local temple of Pharasma however upon your arrival there you find that no one is present and only a simple wooden sign hanging on the door awaits your arrival. The sign directs mourners to the Southeast gate of the Restlands for the funeral procession.
As your arrive at the Southeast gate you see a female in her mid-twenties dressed in a dark red gown who is dabbing a kerchief to her eyes as tears intermittently slide down her cheeks. A finely crafted wooden coffin is resting on the ground nearby.
A small group of mourners, six in total, is gathered nearby talking among themselves. One of the mourners is noted to be standing off by himself. A bulk of a middle aged human man, with dark hair, and a bushy mustache is standing behind a gangly young human teen boy. His hands rest on the boy's shoulders. A middle aged female human who has a faint whiff a chemical smell to her. A pair of old human males who are dressed better than the common folk stand side by side. The well dressed human man standing off on his own does not appear to be from Ravengro. You would guess he might be a noble from elsewhere in Ustalav based on how well he is dressed. He is tall, dark haired, bears a single scar on his left cheek, and stands with a rigid posture. A fine looking rapaire hangs on his hip.
Kendra quickly dabs her eyes to clear away the forming tears upon the approach of each of you. "Thank you for coming to pay your respects. My father would be pleased to know that those he cherished in life as friends have come to pay him their final respects."
"Friends and fellow mourners I am in need of pallbearers. Who will take on this duty?"
"I'll be one," Mihai offers and steps toward the coffin. He then looks to the lady, [b]"Kendra Lorrimor I presume?" When she acknowledges he says, "My condolences." then he stands by ready to lift once enough people step up.
Arriving to the funeral, Preston is shocked that there are so few in attendance. He is pleased to see he is not the only one dressed a la mode, and is glad he toned it down a bit for the occasion. Brown is not his color, but one cannot wear something flashy to a funeral. He greets Kendra warmly but in subdued fashion befitting the solemn occasion before taking a place amongst the non-locals. He does not volunteer, and given his frame it is easy to see why. "Good man," he remarks on Mihai's volunteering.
"My most sincere condolences Miss Lorrimor. Your father was a truly great man!" Josef says as he gives her a polite bow. "I would be honored to be a pall bearer." He adds, joining the more burly man besides the coffin.
Having just arrived Mihai is still in his traveling clothes but being a drover and caravan guard it's practically his best anyway. Being late winter he is dressed in a heavy fur jacket. It is open at the neck more than normal as he has a large hilt of a sword sticking up there. It is obvious he wears scale mail underneath and likely has additional weapons. He is wearing fur lined leather breaches, and fur topped boots.
Lady Applestar opts to leave her bulky glaive and shield and armor at the inn. She does bring her scimitar. Although, some may say her armor would be more appropriate for a somber funeral than the more colorful (rainbow, actually) clothing she wears now. Briar Rose is very tall and thin, almost unnaturally so, but in spite of this there is a bearing of regal strength about her. A delicate vine tattoo curls towards her temple on her left cheek, placed just in front of one pierced, pointed ear. Wavy crimson hair hangs to her shoulders, swept to one side, partiality framing a heart-shaped face with a small pointed nose, angular jaw, and brown eyes of decidedly indeterminate age. She is quite pretty, in a somewhat eerie, ephemeral way. A scimitar hangs at her side, and from a delicate silver chain around her neck hangs three holy symbols: the symbol of the Radiant Prism - a rainbow arching between the sun and a twinkling star - as well as a separate pendant representing the spiraling comet of Pharasma, and the third a black mirror wreathed in silver thorns - the symbol of her mother.
She approaches Kendra, moving with a somewhat unnatural grace. "I am so sorry for your loss, miss Lorrimer. I am lady Applestar of Magnimar." Briar Rose takes both of Kendra's hands and gives them a squeeze, hoping to offer at least some kind of warmth to the woman. "And the clergy at the Cynosure Tower in Magnimar send their condolences as well. I did not know your father well, but I traveled with him for a time after running in to him in... well, nowhere, really." She leaves out that she met him fleeing from ghouls in an abandoned and long forgotten cemetery. "He was researching diseases born by the dead, and ways to cure them. He was a good man. I had actually intended to meet with him, and soon. In fact, I was preparing for a visit, to research -" She trails off and waves a dismissive hand. "Well, that is not important now." She smiles and squeezes again.
She had intended to offer her arm to the grieving young woman, but is pleased to see someone else has already taken up that duty, so she takes up a position by the casket. Further introductions can wait.
Zokar Elkarid steps from behind his son and takes the fourth pallbearers spot on the professor's casket. Between the four of you the casket is lifted and its weight easily bourn by you.
As is custom in parts of Ustalav the priest will meet the funeral procession at the gravesite. Kendra steps off as the lead of the procession followed by the casket and it's four pallbearers. the remaining mourners trail behind the casket. You can see a sign marking this path as the Dreamwake - a gravel pathway that winds through the cemetery.
As the procession reaches the halfway point along the Dreamwake, rounding a corner onto a path called the Eversleep, you see that the way ahead is blocked by a group of a dozen surly looking locals. The tallest of these toughs is an elderly but wiry looking man bearing a farming implement.
“That’s far enough. 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!” says the wiry old man in a gruff but demanding voice.
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...”
Before Kendra can finish her sentence, the wiry old man speaks over her “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 practically splutters “Necromancy!? Are you really that ignorant?”
Lady Applestar maintains a placid, level expression as she quickly approaches the men. The last thing they need is for the to devolve into any more of a scene than it already is. Trying to convince the farmers that Petros is not a necromancer right this moment seems a fruitless endeavor. They should be dealt with quickly and quietly.
"This man, whatever his life held, now stands before Pharasma in final judgment, beyond the reach of mortal deeds or fears. His soul seeks rest, as all souls do. To deny him even a humble plot of earth... is that an act worthy of this town? Does hate truly belong among these monuments to memory?" She makes a small gesture at the stones and mausoleums that dot the landscape. "Let us not taint this place of peace and tranquility with bitterness. Let his judgment be for the gods, and let our act be one of final, quiet mercy."
Mihai waits to see what the rabble say to the lady's well presented argument. But quietly so that the other pallbearers can hear him he says, "Let us see how this goes but we may need to put this down."
"Necromancy?, impossible!". Cassandra thinks to herself, shocked by the accusation. Stepping in front of Kendra, Cassandra stands shoulder to shoulder with Briar Rose and addresses the mob "What is the meaning of this? You men ought to be ashamed!" She removes her glasses and stares at the men daring them to meet her gaze, then in a softer tone she continues "Gentlemen, please! Can you not see the pain you are causing Mistress Lorrimor. The young lady only wishes to inter her father in holy ground as the Lady Pharasma would have it. This is neither the time nor the place to air your grievances. Please let us pass."
Preston is not surprised at all to find that the townsfolk are as ignorant as he had heard they came in backwaters, especially backwater Ustalav. This was hardly the time for him to begin bandying about his considerable social ability, so he left that to the ladies. It would also look like he was trying to ingratiate himself to Kendra if he came to her defense like this, and the power play would not be to do so at this time. The formidable ladies seemed to have it well in hand.
He cursed himself for having left his weapon at the inn, but it wouldn't have done to bring it here. Of course someone else was wearing their weapon, perhaps it would have been fine for him to do so as well, but again in this backwater who knew what passed for proper social behavior? Ah well. Should violence become the order of the day, he would certainly be able to distract one or two of the boors so that the big fellow could set the casket down and knock some heads together.
Josef holds himself ready to act if the situation should call for it. He wishes he could say he was surprised by the ignorance being displayed but sadly knew it was a common theme in the more rural areas.
Signs of education or magic being met with hostility had happened to him before.
The wiry old man glares at Kendra. "Mark my words. This is not right in the eyes of Pharasma. I am sure the Father would tell you himself if he wasn't such a waste of a man." He spits on the ground as he finishes speaking.
Another man steps up and whispers in the man's ear. The wiry old man pales a little and looks back at the others. several of the men are already departing. The thugs calm down enough that they sullenly disperse, shooting venomous glances at each of you as well as Kendra, but leaving the cemetery nevertheless and allowing the procession to continue.
The mix of anger and grief on Kendra's face is evident. "Thank you everyone. Had you not been here I am very much afraid to know what they might have done to my father. I am also sorry that you are seeing and hearing from the more ignorant among the town. I truly hope that this doesn't sour your impression of our small town to much."
***
Kendra leads the procession to a newly dug grave site in the Restlands. Before the site stands a grizzled old man, bald, with bushy white eyebrows. He is wearing black robes with a silver holy symbol of Pharasma hanging around his neck. Tiny vials of holy water hang from the belt of blue, gold, and white woven fabrics.
A pair of gravediggers stand nearby each holding a spade.
The wizened old priest speaks to the gathered mourners.
"Here and now, dear friends, we are Pharasma’s children.
What we shall be has not been revealed,
But we know when she appears we shall be judged by her, for she shall see us as we are.
Those who are not pure, know that all whom live and have lived must face her judgment."
Pharasma said, "Those who believe in me, even though they die, yet shall they live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die. I see you at the beginning and the end, the first and the last. I am death, and behold I am alive forever more, and I hold the keys of birth and death. Because I live, you shall also live."
"Let us pray." The priest raises his arms towards the sky as he recites the prayer.
"O' Pharasma, who gave us birth, you are ever more ready to hear than we are to pray.
You know our needs before we ask, and our ignorance in asking. Give to us now your grace, that as we shrink before the mystery of death, we may see the light of eternity.
Speak to us once more your solemn message of life and death.
Help us to live as those who are prepared to die.
And when our days are accomplished, enable us to die as those who go forth to live, so that living or dying, our life may be in you, and that nothing in life or in death be able to separate us from the destiny we all must face."
A long clear song of a whippoorwill is heard as the priest finishes speaking. He sprinkles the coffin with holy water and wafts smoke from a censer.
"Kendra, I now invite you to say a few words to those gathered."
Kendra carefully steps in front of the open grave before she speaks.
"Friends and fellows of my father Professor Petros Lorrimor I thank you for coming."
"My father was a good and forethinking man. He taught me the ways of the world as I grew from a child into the young women you see before you today. A loving father, he showed me that life is what one makes of it. He spoke of his time teaching at Lepidstat University and of his many journeys throughout Ustalav and the surrounding nations. He told me of the many friends and acquaintances he made in life, many of you are here today. He lived life believing he was here to make a difference, and he tried to impart that same sense into everyone he met in his life."
"So it is that I ask of you this day that you live your life to make a difference. Be the good that so many seek."
Kendra dabs tears from her eyes as she speaks and seems on the verge of openly crying as she finishes.
"If anyone else wishes to speak you are welcome to do so now." Kendra steps to the side and begins to sob as she thinks back on the life of her father.
"He was a good man. Smart and personable. I believe the world is a little less bright without him in it. May we all live such a life." Mihai says from where he stands.
Cassandra approaches the graveside and sighs. Clearing her throat she begins to speak "I met the Professor several years ago. He came to my village after I had suffered a brutal attack by a creature of darkness and spite. I not only survived the attack but managed to drive the creature away. This piqued the Professor's interest and he came to my village to talk with me about my experiences. He found me a confused and frightened young girl who was scared of the powers awoken in me that night. He told me to not be afraid but to embrace what had changed in me and to use those powers for the Light. Before he left he gave me a couple of books to read." Cassandra pauses to issue a little chuckle "He always seemed to have a book, or two, with him. It was those books which guided me. Though I never saw the Professor again, we corresponded over the intervening years as he followed my life and I his. It is a great sorrow that I will never get the opportunity to speak with him again."
As Cassandra finishes her speech she bends down and picks up a handful of the disturbed earth near the gravesite and saying a quick prayer to Pharasma tosses the dirt in a spiral pattern over the casket "Farewell, Professor. May the Lady protect you now."
Preston waits his turn, allowing others the first opportunities to speak. When there is a lull, he speaks up. "The Professor and I had some shared interests, and I regret to say that I had been letting them wane when I received his letter. This reminds me that time comes for us all, and we must use the time we are given. I hope to be better for this."
When his turn comes Josef steps up and say his small piece. "I met the Professor and was employed by him on several expeditions. Even at the university I'd never met a man of such drive and intelligence before! He taught me the the best never stop learning."
Kendra sees no one else stepping forth to eulogize her father gestures to Father Grimburrow who steps forth once more.
"Pharasma, we praise you for all who have entered into their rest and reached the promised land where you are seen face to face. Give us grace to follow in their footsteps as they followed in the ways of your word. Thank you for the memory of those you have called to yourself: by each memory, turn our hearts from things seen to things unseen, and lead us till we come to the eternal rest you have prepared for your people, in your name we pray."
"Go in peace."
The two gravediggers slowly lower the coffin to its final resting spot before beginning the laborious task of filling in the grave.
A tall man of Varisian descent spends time speaking with Kendra Lorrimor following the conclusion of the funeral service. You recognize him as the same man that was standing by himself away from the other mourners when you first arrived at the Restlands. He is slender in build, with black wavy hair. The clothing he is wearing appears to you to cost more than any common man could afford in his lifetime. He wears a pair of rings on each hand as well as a grey amulet, that bears an unknown type carving, around his neck. He walks with a grace that seems to show that he knows how to use the extravagant looking silver rapier hanging on his right hip. He is smiling during his conversation with Kendra and gives her a light kiss on her left cheek just before he leaves.
Kendra says goodbye to the other mourners and then turns and speaks with you all.
"Please join me at my home for the reading of my father's will. Councilman Vashian Hearthmount will come by in approximately one hour to administer the reading. Until then I would ask that you please join me so that I can learn how my father came to know such an eclectic group."
***
The Lorrimor home would be spacious were it not for all of the bookshelves, tables strewn with maps, and even a calamity cabinet. Books, scrolls, and pieces of parchment lines the many bookshelves, far too many to count easily. Jars, vials, flasks, candles, crystals, and other small items and tools of his trade lay scattered about.
You are directed into the living room to talk and await the reading of the will. Kendra provides refreshments for you all. Preserved fruits, nuts, cheese, wine and water. A fire in the hearth heats the room.
Having briefly detoured to retrieve his blade, as it seemed to be a fashion statement in these parts, Preston also takes the time to recover his instrument. There was no telling what might be in store in the intervening hour. On arriving, he greets the burly man who did an excellent job carrying the casket. "Good day to you, sir. I am Preston Sucner, of late of the Kitharodian Academy. Might I have your name in exchange?" Being now in possession of a rapier which looks to have seen practically no use ever, it is quite evident that Preston would blow over in a stiff enough breeze not to even consider the possibility of a fight. Nevertheless, he takes a cup of wine and sips at it tentatively. It would not do to become soused at the wake, but neither would it do to spurn the hospitality of the grieving family.
"Of course, ma'am. It would be my pleasure." Mihai says following their host.
---
"Mihai, good to meet you." the big man says to Preston.
While eating cheese and drinking a stein full of wine Mihai tells a rather embellished story of rescuing Prof Lorrimor from a pack of wolves.
Preston takes about a half hour to track down and speak with Zokar Elkarid, propritor of the Laughing Demon tavern. You quickly learn he holds the philosophy that the best way to meet the horrors of the world is with a jest, for if one can laugh at the worst life has to offer, there remains little to fear.
You then follow his directions to the Lorrimor home where you welcomed in and taken to the living room.
***
You all hear three solid raps of a door knocker. Kendra turns towards the sound and pauses for just a brief moment before going to answer the door. She returns to the living room followed by a portly man wearing a gold medallion on a chain about his neck. He is dressed like country nobility or at least his vision of it. You can tell he has an inflated oppinion of his own inportence.
"Everyone, this gentleman is Councilman Vashian Hearthmount. He is the head of Ravengro's town council and the town's defacto solicitor. He is here to read my father's will."
Councilman Hearthmount pulls a wax sealed scroll tube out of his shoulder bag. He shows Kendra the unbroken wax seal and has her verify that it is her Father's sigil in the wax. He the breaks the seal and empty's the contents out on to a table. A small iron key slids out and lands with a thunk. The professor's will is pulled free of the tube and unfurled by the councilman. He clears his throat and begin's 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, in the year 4711."
Councilman Hearthmount sweeps his eyes over you all upon finishing and slightly scowls. The will is handed to Kendra as the councilman bows his head just enough to be polite. "Miss Lorrimor. We should speak later in private before you make any decisions on how to proceed." He straighens, adjusts his coat, and leaves you all.
Kendra sits unmoving in some shock at the contents of her father's will. It takes several minutes until she finally stands, walks out of the room, and returns about five minutes later bearing a small iron bound locked chest. The chest is set down on the table in the center of the room.
Briar Rose is pleased by the dried fruits. She prefers the sweeter things in life, but Ustalav doesn't seem to have a lot of that. She takes the opportunity to introduce herself. "I am lady Briar Rose Applestar of Magnimar, as I said earlier. Or you may know me as Princess Eglantriel Roswyn Blossom. Or, well, you probably don't." Few mortals are up to date on the matters of the Fey courts... "But 'Briar Rose' is fine."
Funerals are more for the living than the dead. Once they've bathed in the River of Souls, most spirits don't care what happens to their bodies. While they await the official she asks "Miss Lorrimer, is there anything you wanted to tell us about your father? A particular memory you're fond of?"
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"Hmm." Briar Rose hums. "I do have some experience in escorting dangerous objects through Ustalav, actually. " She says. "Although I wouldn't call regular books 'dangerous'. That is a dangerous path to tread..." Were she being fully truthful, this does not particularly seem to be an appropriate task for her. Her skills are aimed more at imminently dangerous foes, and less so towards forbidden knowledge. "I was most likely going to end up in Lepidstadt eventuality anyways for a task for my mother, but I hadn't planned on delaying for a month. Are those the books, then, dear?"
"I'm sorry. I don't recognize the name except from a list that my father said needed to be present for his will reading should the worst ever happen." Kenda stifles a sob as she is reminded why evryone is here in here home.
"My father was a wonderful man even though he was frequently away on trips. Everytime he returned home from one of his journey's he would come bearing a gift or treat for me. I still have magical paper glow bug in a jar he got me after a journey to some lodge in the woods somewhere in country. He told me its light was a tiny beacon of hope in a dark world. Apparently these bugs can be seen fliting through the air near there during spring and summer."
Preston listens intently. The date of the will was this same month, was he in the habit of making new wills or did he suspect something would befall him? Curious. 100 platinum coins? The mere thought of such a sum was beyond him. He could spend years of his life at the academy with such a princely sum. Princely? Nay, kingly. A month and change would be well worth that amount of coin. "I met your father on one such trip, as far off as Taldor even. There are wonders enough abroad." And horrors, he didn't add. "I don't suppose I can turn down the wish of a dead man, especially when he is paying so handsomely."
"Not to worry about the Daromid character. I'm sure we could find her when the time comes. As to giving you an assist, with neighbors like those we ran into in the cemetery, I can see why the Professor wanted us to hang around. I'd prefer to stay nearby. If you don't have enough bunk space inside I'll setup up camp in the yard somewhere if that's ok with you. I can't speak to glow bugs, but there's always hope."
Josef raises one eyebrow when he hears the sum of coin left to him, enough to set up his own shop if he wished. Hearing of the books the Professor wishes escorted to the university raises the other brow.
"I can understand his concern. Dark books lead to dark sites. The Professor spent much of his life using these books to clear those sites. They should not be allowed to fall into the hands of those who would use them for evil purposes!" He says firmly, showing his readiness to do as the Professor asked of him.
You can see Kendra pulling herself together and putting on a brave fave. "Once again you all have my thanks for coming. I'll need a least a few weeks to decide whether to sell my home or even remain in Ravengro. In the meantime, as stipulated by the will, I ask that you to remain as well. I have rooms enough in my spacious house for each of you. I promise there is no cost for this offer bryond my father;s request."
"If you will excuse me a moment I'll go and retreive the chest."
Kendra returns about five minutes later with a small iron bound wooden chest. She sets it on a table, picks up the iron key, and srts it on top.
"Does anyone need anything else before I take some time for myself before dinner?"
"No, ma'am. We'll just take a look inside the box and maybe stir up a mess for chow this afternoon if that's ok?" Mihai says reaching for the key.
A moment please. Josef says, raiing a hand to stop Mihai from touching the chest.
From long experience Josef studies the small chest for any dangers before stepping back to let Mihai unlock it. "It's best to be sure." He explains a little sheepishly.
Mihai raises his hands and steps back. "Please. I wasn't thinking. I'd like to keep all of my fingers."
Preston wanted to stand up for the Professor, who surely would not endanger his friends like this, but the Professor was a cautious man and surely would have taken precautions. There was, after all, a locked chest. The man he had not yet been introduced to made a good point. It seemed he also knew how to examine objects for potential hidden dangers, a good skillset to have for certain. There was therefore nothing for Preston to say at this time, so he simply let the other men speak.
Briar Rose beams at the idea of a room in the manor. Surely it would be better than the inn! Of course, she is used to a lavish lifestyle. She waits for Josef to work his magic on the box as that is well outside her realm of expertise.
.
Having verified the chest is safe Josef tells Mihai, "It can be opened safely. Probably unneeded I know but the Professor taught me to always doublecheck things, even when it looks safe. .
"Sounds good," Mihai puts the key in the lock and pops the chest open.
After assuring the chest itself is afe Mihai unlocks and opens it. The lid lifts easily and without any npise indicating that the chest itself is both well made and well maintained.
Within the chest are five tomes with the newest appearing of them sitting at the top. You easily notice writing scratched on the leather cover of this top most book. Written in Taldane is reads "READ ME NOW!"
This book is Petros Lorrimor’s journal. Several entries in the journal are circled in red.
Ten Years Ago:
The Whispering Way is more than just a cabal of necromancers. I see that now. Undeath is their fountain of youth. Uncovering their motivation does not place me at ease as I thought it might. Their desire to be eternal simply makes them more dangerous.
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 second tome is leather bound and dyed jet black in color. A note is tucked into the tome indicating that it should be delivered to one Montagnie Crowl, a professor of antiquities at Lepidstadt University.
On Verified Madness is an ancient jet-black tome discussing the Dark Tapestry. It is a work of starry observations and occult lore. The treatise especially considers aberrations and other creatures that are resident on Golarion yet have some connection to the Dark Tapestry.
The third tome looks the colors of various fleshes. It to bears a note tucked into the tome indicating that it should be delivered to one Montagnie Crowl, a professor of antiquities at Lepidstadt University.
Serving Your Hunger. This text is a copy of one of several unholy books sacred to the goddess Urgathoa. Urgathoa, the goddess of gluttony, disease, and undeath. It was written by her first antipaladin, Dason. The book details the tenets of her faith, extravagant (and occasionally cannibalistic) recipes, and methods for achieving intelligent undeath.
Lorrimor’s notations liberally sprinkle the margins.
The fourth tome is bound in flayed human skin and written using blood instead of ink. It also has a note tucked into the tome indicating that it should be delivered to one Montagnie Crowl, a professor of antiquities at Lepidstadt University.
The Umbral Leaves is the unholy and grisly sacred text of Zon-Kuthon, the Midnight Lord of darkness, envy, loss, and pain. It contains disjointed ravings, prophecies, and poetry detailing the pleasures of pain, torture, and the god's history.This book is a translated copy and is written in Taldane .
The fifth book has a rich purple cover contains a brass scarab set with a single eye in its center. The book’s covers are rimmed in polished steel and clasped with a small but intricate lock, the keyhole of which appears to be for a key with a strange, triangular shaft. The key is nowhere to be found when you look and ask. It has a note indicating it should be delivered to Embreth Daramid, a judge at the Lepidstadt Courthouse (although the note asks for this delivery in particular to be handled discreetly, and includes the address of Embreth’s home so that you can deliver it there).
This tome is the Manual of the Order of the Palatine Eye. You recognize the book for what it is a manual for a secret society.
"One of you scholar types want to read that journal to us?" Mihai asks looking about the room.
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Having not had a chance to do particular much thus far, Preston takes Mihai's offer to read it. He reads, and as he does so a few words leak out. "Whispering way... necromancers... undeath..." his voice trails off as he reads at a faster pace, flipping pages to look for the next marked passage. "Ravengro, Harrowstone, Temple of Pharasma, GHOSTS?" He sets the book down.
"If what is in there is to be believed, there is a grand conspiracy to do something that I will simply call evil, something to do with a cult called the Whispering Way which is devoted to immortality through undeath. There is a place called Harrowstone that the Professor was investigating, sounds like some sort of prison. It seems to have had ghosts, however. He said he had the necessary tools to investigate, which would seem to be something to deal with problems of a ghostly nature. It also heavily implies that this is why he died. There is an urgent implied threat to the town should this Whispering Way not be dealt with. If you would like the further disturbing details you are welcome to read it, I am somewhat concerned as to whether the good Professor had gone mad." His tone had started measured, composed, and quite rational, but through the explanation he became more frantic. It was, after all, quite unbelievable to be reading such a thing from the Professor of all people. He'd always seemed level-headed. Preston walked to a nearby chair and all but collapsed into it. His worldview was somewhat shaken.
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While he can't assist in the first three books, Josef nods when Preston gives the news of what they are. "Very unpleasant! But needed to oppose those that worship these dark religions."
He has however heard of the last, "This is the manual of the order of the Palatine eye. The order exists to study and monitor dangerous lore and inhuman monsters. They oppose the cultist of the Whispering way. So it is no surprise the good Professor was a member."
He looks thoughtful, "I would presume to guess that Professor Crowl is also a Palatine order member if Professor Lorrimor wishes him to receive these books?"
"Preston, you said the Prof. implies this investigation led to his death. Can you give any more details? You're not going to share are you?" Mihai says as he reaches for the journal to see for himself what upset Preston.
After a few moments of reading the journal's highlighted parts, Mihai puts it down, "Hmm, I think we should ask how the Professor died. This makes it sound as if these Whispering Way people have done something dangerous or are planning to."
After looking over the various tomes in the chest you also notice five pieces of parchment paper folded into envelopes resting in the bottom of the chest. Each envelope bears one of your names upon it and is sealed with the professor's personal signet in white wax.
Having read the professor's journal you take time to think on what you know of both Harrowstone and the Whispering Way.
Harrowstone Knowledge (history) or Knowledge (local).
warden and the guards who lost their lives was built in the months after the tragedy—that statue still stands on the riverbank just outside of town.
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Whispering Way Knowledge (arcana) or Knowledge (religion).
society itself has existed much longer than even that mighty necromancer.
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.
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The Five Prisoners Knowledge (history) or Knowledge (local).
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Josef explains to the the others what he knows of the Whispering way.
He decides that perhaps chatting with the locals might turn up more information and asks if anyone is interested in joining him?