GM_Councillor Hearthmount's page

Sheriff Caeller breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank Pharasma--oh."

He turns to the podium as one of the councillors, Hearthmount, emerges, his forehead glistening with sweat and the white cravat poking out of his collar wrinkled and rumpled. The room grows quiet.

"Citizens--and visitors--of Ravengro, thank you kindly for attending this meeting today." Councillor Hearthmount nods at the assembled crowd before taking a sheaf of papers out of his waistcoat pocket. "I wish I could say I called for this meeting under better circumstances, but alas, I would be lying to you all if I did."

He clears his throat and begins to read from the papers in his hands. "It has come to my attention that there have been sightings of undead beings on the periphery of our dear town. These sightings began in the nights after the funeral of Professor Petros Lorrimor--"

The news sends panicked whispers through the crowd. "--but as of yet there is little evidence to suggest the dearly departed professor was in any way involved with their appearance." The councillor's words do little to calm the assembly.

"It has also come to my attention that a group of visitors to our town have taken it upon themselves, without my leave or that of anyone on the Council of Ravengro, to involve themselves in this affair." His eyes fall on Imperia and Filiana, and everyone else's eyes follow suit.

Hearthmount clears his throat and looks back at his papers. "So far, their meddling has not resulted in great calamity for our way of life, or for our safety. But I would be remiss if I did not make my concerns known. They doubtlessly mean well--from speaking with Father Grimburrow and Sheriff Caeller, they are people of upstanding moral character. However, there is a very good reason that one of the most well-known proverbs in Ustalav is 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions'."

"Furthermore--" Hearthmount flips a page of his papers, and his eyes widen in shock. He falls dead silent.

"I'm... free?" He reads from the paper. Rivulets of sweat begin to drip from his pallid forehead.

"If there's nothing else, then I shall take my leave." The councilor bows once and starts heading for the door.

He pauses before opening the door and turns to the gathered strangers. "Please be on your best behaviour during your stay. Most of the locals aren't exactly... well, comfortable with out-of-towners getting involved in what are ostensibly local affairs." He shrugs. "Still, you made a better impression today than I thought you would."

With that, he opens the door and steps out into the cold Lamashan morning.

Councilor Hearthmount just waves Kendra off. "It's no trouble at all." He says as he slips a scroll from his overcoat and holds it out for all to see. The scroll is sealed with wax, in the shape of a lit lamp.

"The Professor's will." He says before breaking the wax seal and unrolling the scroll. He clears his throat, and with a final glance at everyone present, begins 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." The councilor's nose twitches.

His eyebrow arches as he continues reading. “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." He glances briefly at Kendra before continuing to read the will.

"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 4706, AR.” The councilor rolls up the scroll. If he's surprised by the contents of the will, he doesn't show it.

Jayla opens the door, letting in a sharp, cold draft as she greets the home's visitor.

Standing at the door is a portly, black-haired man dressed impeccably in a black, ruffed overcoat with a matching silk tunic beneath it. Some streaks of grey run along his temples, and his grey eyes have a look of quiet authority about them. He blinks when he sees Jayla at the door.

"Ah... good morning. I am Councilor Vashian Hearthmount, and I'm here to read Petros Lorrimor's will." The man clears his throat and nods at the scroll peeking out from underneath his overcoat. "I was expecting Ms. Lorrimor to answer the door--is she in?"