Warhammer Carrion Crown

[Locmore]

Arriving in Graustonhain:

A day's journey north off of the Old Forest Road, nestled between the foothills of the middle mountains lies Graustonhain. The town is heralded by several miles of fields lining the road, green with the new growths of spring, with rocky hills rising in the distance on either side.

The town walls are impressive for the size of the village you expected to find; steep earthworks twice the height of a man, crested with wall built from large grey stones. As you near the gatehouse however, you note that the stonework is ill maintained and even crumbling in places.

Along the streets, quite a few windows and doors are boarded up, the houses they belong to in disrepair. Here and there, buildings have been demolished entirely to make room for small fields of vegetables. The locals ignore you pointedly, although you can tell they're staring when they think you're not looking.

You find lodgings either at the hospital next to the fairly impressive temple of Morr, or at a nameless boarding house across from the town pub, run by a bustling ample-bellied woman insisting you call her Karla. She's as interested in you and your story as the rest of the town seems wary. Either way, you are near enough the only tenants; the hospital's only other occupants are a badly injured young man in a tattered uniform and a taciturn roadwarden who stays but a single night.

While obviously having seen better days, it is clear that the town has somehow been spared the recent Storm; the only mark of the war is the dearth of men of fighting age.

All of you find yourself making your way to the northern gate at first bell past noon for the funeral procession. Aside from yourselves, a handful of people are present. A pair of noblemen, judging by their clothes, one elderly and the other pudgy and middle aged. A balding bhurger you may or may not recognize as the owner of the pub, holding the hand of a young boy. There's also a pair of women; one a young daughter of a bhurger or noblewoman, with black hair, olive skin and puffy eyes, the other more obviously a native of more common means, with short hair ragged in places, and whose mourning dress appears somewhat wrinkled.

A trio of acolytes dressed in the grey robes of Morr are attending the professor's coffin; the bereaved are meant to carry it from here to the professor's final resting place where the priest awaits.

Welcome to the start of the campaign! Do you want to help carry the coffin?

[Wanda Brucke]

Wanda closed her black robes on her lithe body, to try to keep away the cold. But to no avail, it seems. Despite her average stature, she had a strong metabolism, and was quite resilient, rarely ill. But she easily felt cold. Maybe it was the long hours spent reading near the fireplace at her parents house...

Maybe those two months in Estalia in my young years showed me what it meant to be warmed by the sun.. Those were happy months, even if I never managed to find a copy of Streberecius " Misfortunes of the heart"

She only had a few hours sleep since arriving in Graustonhain, having insisted to help in the hospital, as a recently appointed servant of Morr.

So her tired, pale face and dark-circled eyes made quite an impresssion on the local crowd, scarce as it was.

She walked to the trio of acolytes, her head slightly bowed, more by habit than from a display of humility.

May I be of assistance, as a servant of Morr, and acquaintance, if not friend, of the deceased?

[Yesult Garrett]

Yesult had been in the employ of the men of Kislev during the fall of his beloved home to the powers of chaos and had taken up the road after the war following some other dwarves and taking up their causes as a protagonist. He eventually made his way to the professor and came to work for him. Humans led a quicker life than dwarves and now here he was looking at the casket of a man he thought of as a fair employer and friend.

I am here to see the professor on to his resting place and would be happy to carry the coffin. Yesult's the name.

Yesult nods to the others.

[Ghorza Thursisdottir]

Ghorza came to town riding upon a horse, of all things. Many people seemed to think that this was not appropriate for a dwarf. She thought that those people could go fook themselves. Time was of the essence. She was but two days away from completing her very first runic item! It was an axe that she named Az-Baraz, which was roughly translated as “The Promised Waraxe.” This was because she was deep in debt. Two hundred fifty good crowns of debt, to be precise. And if she did not pay it back in two months then she would lose her pride and joy for the next one hundred years. Already she was thinking of what she could sell, for every copper piece mattered. In this she wished that she was back in Middenheim, so that she could continue working. But here she was, for a funeral.

It was Clan honor. The professor had been a close friend of her father, and as he was too injured to come, she was here in his place. Regardless of the person cost, family came first. She frowned as she dismounted. Stabling the horse would cost money. But getting back to Middenheim would take too long without it. It was a horrible situation to be in. Her head was filled with these calculations as she made her way to the Temple of Morr. It was just too bad that a town like this would certainly not have in it the answer to her prayers…

”Me father, Thuris, sends his respects, and sadness on not being able to attend.” Ghorza said. ”In his name, I would help carry the coffin.”

[Gretchen Wagner]

Gretchen sniffles and wipes a tear from her eye when she sees the coffin. Of course, she had known the professor was dead, but the reality of his passing hadn't really hit home until just now. The young woman takes a few deep breaths to steady herself before stepping forward to join the other woman and the two dwarves who have volunteered to serve as pallbearers.

"The professor believed in me when nobody else would. This is the least I can do to repay him." She looks at the other volunteers. "I'm Gretchen."

[Yesult Garrett]

Yesult eyes the Dwarven female for a moment like he had seen the second coming of the chaos hoard across the field outside of Kislev and then shakes his head with a bit of a smile and says I am happy to meet you all and good to see so many respecting the professor.

[Locmore]

"You may. It is custom that any who knew the deceased and feels called, carry him to his final rest." The acolyte's voice is surprisingly high pitched for his apparent age.
Seeing the newcomers, the young noblewoman stammers out a greeting. "Thank you all for coming. As some of you knew, I'm Nicoletta, his daughter. He'd have been glad... You all knew him." She trails off.

Eventually, the innkeeper takes up one of the remaining spots at the pall, and if Uwe does not take the last, the pudgy nobleman will in his place.
"It is time." says one of the acolytes. All three of them have lit their censers, and the sweet smell of incense follows the funeral party as they pass beneath the northern gate and leave town for the cemetary.

The it is a chilly spring day, and the sky is grey with rain yet to fall.

As is custom, the dead are buried outside the town proper; the cemetary has its own wall. The enclosure is more symbolic in nature than the practical approach of the town fortifications. They're composed of grey slabs of stone stacked five and a half feet high. Judging by the length of the wall, the graveyard must be a sprawling affair.
The entrance is not on the southern side facing the town, and the funeral party has to make their way around.

As you round the corner, you come face to face with what must be the what passes for the village toughs. A group of fifteen or so hard-looking men and women, the men either just old enough or just lame enough for the army recruiters to have passed them by. Still, they look threatening enough for all that, and a man run through by a pitchfork might not care much that there's a woman at the other end of it, under the circumstances. Not all of them carry sharp instruments - most are mostly scowling at you.
They're plainly barring the cemetery gate.
A man near the front seems in charge. One of his eyes is covered with a patch, clearly courtesy of a bad burn to the upper right side of his face.
"That's far enough," he gravels, "Whatever the man disturbed up there, we reckon we don't want no part of it on consecrated grounds - you can bury him outside!"

Nicoletta snaps a breath in fury, clearly about to speak up.

[Ghorza Thursisdottir]

Ghorza eyed Yesult warily. Was he Mountain-Kin? She knew how so many of them saw women through a narrow lense, treating them like treasure to be hoarded. Women were restricted in profession and movement, protected and entrapped by chains entitled tradition. What was worse was that he looked capable. She had brawled her way across many of Middenheim’s taverns, and the dwarf had the look of someone who made their living off of violence. And not the professional soldier type, but rather the kind found in the streets. It was enough to put her on edge.

”Aye.” She said, turning her attention to the human women. One was a priestess and the other…was armed with sword and bow, with a musical instrument and clothing reminiscent of a traveler and entertainer. Neither of the women struck her as the usual imperial woman who stayed at home and ran the household. Which was to be expected from any friend of the Professor. She didn’t smile as she regarded each in turn, her face a dour mask.

(Edit)

With a mob barring their path, Ghorza waited with arms crossed. They had an initiate of Morr with them. If she couldn’t get them in, then what short of violence would?

[Gretchen Wagner]

Gretchen shakes her head when the mob tries to bar their progress. The young woman clears her throat and speaks in a loud, clear voice. "I know not of what you refer to, good sir. We are merely here to lay an old man to rest. Whatever bad blood there might have been between him and the people of this town, lay it to rest as well. The professor is beyond such things now, and the gods would look better upon you if you could find it in your heart to move past it as well."

Charm 45%: 1d100 ⇒ 70

Gretchen can affect up to 30 people with Charm at once thanks to her Public Speaking talent. Not that it helps with that roll, though, but she tried!

[Wanda Brucke]

Blather (46): 1d100 ⇒ 85

I'm new to the town, but I was under the impression that the priests of Morr who accompany us were the ones in charge of the cemetary, the ones who got to decide who was buried where. Unless I am mistaken?

[Yesult Garrett]

Yesult had no interest in this whole thing until everybody started blabbing and trying to be cute.

Yesult looks up from the casket he is carrying and says:
get out of the professors way and let his daughter bury him in peace as you would all hope your own daughters would do. Otherwise you and your families and your descendents will go into the Book.

intimidate+menacing=35%: 1d100 ⇒ 87

geeze dice hate us all man

He had meant what he said but he was actually saddened by the loss of the professor and anyone could plainly hear it in his voice.

[Ghorza Thursisdottir]

Intimidate assist: 1d100 ⇒ 68

At this point Ghorza expected a fight. She kept her hand near her axe while she openly eyed the mob. Should they reach for their weapons, she was ready.

Quick draw talent…and damn, these dice rolls for all of us!

[Uwe von Roth]

Uwe looks grimly at the men blocking their way and decides to trust in the better judgement of men to prevent potential bloodshed. "The Clerics of Morr have prepared his body. Follow their lead and let his good man rest in peace. I am not sure what you have heard, but I can assure you that this man did not deserve this foul send off."

Charm: 1d100 ⇒ 54

And a swing and a miss. There goes my Public Speaking career. And wow, I post hi and then when I come back you guys have almost hit page two in the RPG. We are moving. :P

[Ghorza Thursisdottir]

On the plus side…if they attack us then we can legally murderhobo them…right?

[Yesult Garrett]

also quick draw

[Gretchen Wagner]

Fortune Point Reroll: 1d100 ⇒ 23

That’s more like it!

[Locmore]

Although the coffin they're carrying makes for a portentous memento mori, it does somewhat inhibit the dwarves' ability to loom.

Gretchen makes eye contact with several people in the crowd as she makes her appeal, and more than one has to look away, shamed.
"I'm not your ploughing good sir. We're not gonna let some stranger tell us what the gods'll like, are we?" the scarred man tries to rekindle fire the righteous anger of his congregation. From the sheepish shuffling behind him, it seems the crowd is indeed considering letting you speak for the gods. The spectre of Morr displeasure is not far from anyone's mind.

The crowd begins to fray at the edges. Only the scarred man at the front, as well as a few stragglers remain in your way, although his attention has turned to staring down the people leaving, grinding his teeth.

[Ghorza Thursisdottir]

Intimidate: 1d100 ⇒ 9

With the majority of the crowd gone, Ghorza glared at the scarred man. For the first time she spoke. ”Let us pass. Ye bar the way to the Garden of Morr to one of his clergy? What’ll happen if ye die doing so? Yer body rotting right by the gates. Sounds like a right dumb thing to do.” He hand rested on the handle of her axe as she spoke.

[Locmore]

He seems to briefly weigh the option of taking you on his own. Still, his gaze lingers on Ghorza's axe, and he comes to a decision. "On your head be it." He moves aside, putting his back to the wall, and staring at you as you pass. He glares daggers at you all the way to the wrought iron gates by which you make your entrance. "I can't believe they'd have the gall to show up like this," the innkeeper mutters as you pass through.

The cemetery beyond is a maze of hedges and old tombstones. You cleave to the main gravel path, until you reach a junction. Just past the hedge beyond, you spot a wizened man in black robes. The dome of his head is bald, ringed by a crown of close-cropped white hair. He does not smile as you approach, but looks at each of you openly.
While his body is wizened and crooked, his voice remains smooth and strong. As you place the coffin on the two slats laid across the grave, he starts speaking. "This group is gathered here today to steward Petrus Lorrimmor, father, brother and friend on his final journey. He was a man of admirable purpose, and the world is lesser for his passing. These people would beseech the black god, that he might give him succour in the next life."
He holds his wrinkled hands out over the head of the coffin, speaking a few lines with the intonation of a verse. None of you understand what he's saying. As he breaks off, a gust of wind seems to blow outwards from the coffin, although it does not rustle clothes or blow at hair. The father staggers, but as soon as he regains his balance, he continues the ceremony as though nothing happened.

Academic Knowledge(Theology)*, routine(+10%):

The priest's ritual is a common Morrite ritual, and in fact a core part of the priesthood's service to the community. It invokes Morr's protection, remanding the spirit to raven god's embrace, and prevents the body from rising beyond the grave. The rush of air you felt is not what usually happens when this ritual is performed, even by powerful priests. It may be a sign that the god's attention drifts near this particular blessing, or it may be a mark of the god's displeasure, as sometimes happens when priests invoke the gods in ways that are not well received.

Academic Knowledge(Magic)*:

What just happened was a spell working. The priests of Morr know a spell that can ward a corpse and its soul against necromantic workings. Normally this effect is quite subtle to anyone without the second sight, but if you were to guess, this more powerful release was probably the ritual driving out some necromantic working or corruption present within the body.

"Nicoletta Lorrimor has asked to say a few words."
She walks up to take the priest's place at the head of the congregation and speaks, her voice already heavy with tears.
"I remember the day I first saw my father. He was headed home from an expedition up the big river south across the sea. Barely half of them had made it back, and they didn't have near enough funds left for the journey home. His clothing was barely rags, but he still had time for a little girl. He always made time. I wish we'd had more. Goodbye dad." She chokes up. As she walks back, she drops a small silver raven pin into the open grave beneath the coffin.
The priest asks, "Does anyone else wish to say something?" Leaving a pause for someone else who may wish to step in.

[Ghorza Thursisdottir]

Can I use knowledge runes for the knowledge magic?: 1d100 ⇒ 50

Eager to fulfill her duty, Ghorza stepped forward. ”Didn’t know him well meself.” She said, looking over the group with a stern face. ”But me father did. And that crotchety old bastard doesn’t trust anyone and likes fewer. But Lorrimmor? Me father both trusted and liked him. And that’s rarer than an elf without a forked tongue. When he heard that Lorrimmor passed, he had me come with all haste, for he didn’t physically could not. So I’ll say this. Lorrimmor, as far as I’m concerned ye be a man proven of worth, so I’m sure yer ancestors wait for ye. Enjoy yer rest.”

Charm: 1d100 ⇒ 26

[Uwe von Roth]

Theology: 1d100 ⇒ 99

Yeah...apparently I missed that month.

Uwe steps forward after Ghorza finishes and says, "Mister Lorrimmor was a fine man. I encountered him early in my time as a soldier. He had a kind heart for a young man new to the wider world and showed himself a man of wise words. He helped set me on my path and I pray that Morr will care for him on this journey."

[Wanda Brucke]

Acad Theology+10 (57): 1d100 ⇒ 71
Fortune reroll
Acad Theology+10 (57): 1d100 ⇒ 19

Still rattled by the unforseen and unpleasant incident, it takes a few seconds for Wanda to focus on the ceremony.

Fortunately, even when hearing only the end of the solemn eulology and sermon, the young girl is able to deduce the beginning of the prayer.

The gust of wind lets her puzzled

Whatever happened here is important to Morr, for good or bad I can't say yet.

She waits her turn, and speak over the coffin

I never had the pleasure to meet physically Professor Lorrimor, and now I'll wait until Morr calls me. He was a kind and patient man, willing to exchange letters on intellectual and academic matters with a young, bookish and unknown student, guiding her more than once, opening new paths for her mind to explore. I am grateful for everything he gave me, and will cherish his name as the name of my own father. If you don't mind, of course, Miss Lorrimor.

Wanda nearly blushes at her own words, having spoke with more passion than usual

[Gretchen Wagner]

Gretchen steps forward. "I would not be the person I am today without Professor Lorrimor's kindness. He believed in me and sponsored my training. I wish I could have spent more time with him, but I am grateful for the time that I did have with him. Rest in peace, professor."

[Locmore]

With that, the ceremony comes to an end. Nicoletta thanks everyone for coming. As people are leaving, she rounds up the five of you, as well as the pudgy looking nobleman. "Would you mind escorting me home? You were mentioned in the will, and I'd like to get everything sorted."

[Ghorza Thursisdottir]

Ghorza’s eyes perked at the word “will.” Was this enough to fulfill her debt? Her heart almost skipped a beat at the idea. ”Please, lead on.” She said, trying to keep the excitement from her voice.

[Gretchen Wagner]

Gretchen takes Nicoletta’s hand, favoring her with a kind smile. ”Of course, dear.”

[Yesult Garrett]

Yesult says nothing at the grave but gives a quiet word to himself not one for such emotions and then he turns and says I will consider it both an honor and the end of my contract of work for the professor

[Uwe von Roth]

Uwe nods grimly and says, "I would be honored to escort you on this dour day."

[Locmore]

On the way, Nicoletta makes rudimentary, distracted introductions. Apparently the overweight nobleman is Theodore von Kreutz, and is effectuating her father's will. He greets you with exacting politeness, but you don't get the feeling he's eager to maintain your acquaintance.

The walk back to town is otherwise without incident. The Lorrimor residence is both old and large which is a rarity in town due to the constraints of the outer wall. Three buildings are arranged in an open square, with the most impressive being the middle one. Nicoletta leads you up the steps, and bid you inside the front door.

Inside, she flags down a servant, "I believe we'll take tea in the salon," before leading you onwards.

Once you're all settled down, Theodore takes charge of the gathering. He produces an official looking document from his satchel, and after placing them on the table in front of him, he takes pain to adjust them so that they are perfectly lined up.

“There were certain provisions made in the late professor's will that pertain to you. In the interest of clarity, I will now read them to you;
"I, Petrus Lorrimor, being of sound mind - and so on and so forth," he pauses. "Then there's provisions as to the appointment of the estate, which has been taken care of, as well as a list of individuals that should be informed on the event of his death, such as yourself -" the papers rustles as he turns one over and clears his throat with a wet noise, "ah, here we are; Yet beyond the bequeathing of my personal effects, this document must serve other needs. I have arranged for the reading of portions 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 in the care of appropriate authorities, I fear that a few I have borrowed remain in a trunk in my Graustonhain 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 the guild hall of the Amethyst College of Wizards in Talabheim, under whose aegis they were initially procured.
“Yet before you leave for Talabheim, there is the matter of another favor; please delay your journey one month and spend that period of time here in Graustonhain 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 two hundred golden crowns. For safekeeping, I have left these funds with Magnolia von Eidelberg, one of my most trusted friends in Talabheim. She has been instructed to issue this payment upon the safe delivery of the borrowed tomes no sooner than one month after you hear this will.
"Then there's some more formalities. I expect you'll be wanting the key, and if you have any questions?" He produces a small brass key from his satchel, and places it on the table before your group with a click.

[Yesult Garrett]

Yesult looks to the daughter and back to the nobleman and says A favor is not a binding legal contract. My initial status of employment is then successfully concluded and I require a signed document saying such before any new venture is to be considered.

[Locmore]

"I fear you misunderstand - there is no offer for a job here, legally speaking" he sniffs at the dwarf "My duty was to convey to you a request from the deceased, which I have now done, and as far as I am concerned, the matter is thus closed. If there is nothing else?" He's halfway out of his seat already.

[Ghorza Thursisdottir]

”Its a will. A legally binding document written by the deceased. It’s up to us on whether we accept. And I do.” Ghorza said, the call of gold truly motivating her. ”May a copy of the relevant section of the will be provided? Written instructions, on task and payment, would be most useful.”

[Locmore]

"Naturally miss; I will have a copy sent along. And as parties mentioned, you have of course the right to look at the original, which will be filed at the town hall," sniff, "The clerk will read it to you for a minor fee."

[Ghorza Thursisdottir]

”Nay need for the clerk.” Ghorza said. ”Ye’ve performed yer duty well.”

She has the WFRP super power “read and write”

[Uwe von Roth]

Uwe looks at Nicoletta and says, "Ma'am, in such dark times there are often many things that need timely care. Do you have any such concerns that we might assist you with at this time?"

[Locmore]

She's been holding it together all day, and the offer for help is almost more than she can bear. She stares at Uwe dejectedly, and when realizing she's being rude, she looks away. "I don't think there's anything... Maybe you should take the trunk. I'll get it." She gets up quickly, and hurries out of the room.

[Yesult Garrett]

I understand this is not an offer of a job. I was referring to my previous employment being now concluded and receiving a signed document saying so so that I can then take up this favor without any questions Yesult says with a frown.

[Wanda Brucke]

I hope this is not too much of a strain for you, Milady Lorrimor, if we stay with you for one month. As much as I respect the last wishes of a deceased man, the will of the living is important too. I consider myself bound to the words of your late father, as a servant of Morr, and I will honour them.

Two hundred crowns? THat's quite a sum! I wonder how many books I could buy with tha kind of money.

[Gretchen Wagner]

"The poor dear," Gretchen remarks sadly as Nicoletta scurries off. "Of course, I will stay to help raise her spirits during this difficult time."

[Locmore]

Theodore shifts his prodigous weight. "Ah, that should be well within my remit, getting the affairs in order. I will have such a notice written up and sent to you, along with the aforementioned document, master dwarf." He stands up. "Now I really must depart. I'd be obliged if you'd convey my goodbye and condolences to the young lady." And with that, he leaves.

Nicoletta makes it back down the stairs and into the salon, carrying a small trunk made from dark wood. It's iron banded, and has a solid-looking lock on it that looks like it matches the key you've been given. Her makeup also bears some sign of having been refreshed.

She places the chest on the table with a thud. She fixes Wanda with a smile. "No, it's no trouble at all; I'd be glad to have you take the books off my hands. And we'll find some rooms for you to sleep in, I couldn't possibly pawn you off to fend for yourselves when you're here to help me."

[Uwe von Roth]

Uwe rises and says, "Miss Lorrimor, please sit and relax for a time. Perhaps I can go and warm some water for tea while you rest."

[Yesult Garrett]

Yesult nods and leans back into his chair with a sigh having completed that task and says I am happy to do the professor a favor and assist the books to a safer place

[Wanda Brucke]

Wanda has an hard time unlocking her eyes from the books.

Sooner or later, each student has to face his dream: books of untold, and potentially dark and dangerous, knowledge. For many, if not most of them, the dream became a nightmare.

She doesn't realise she just spoke out loud, and shake herself out of her daydreaming

Professor Lorrimor's words are clear. Those books are dangerous, and should be delivered to the Amethist College, as soon as possible. Unopened and unread. This is his last will, and it shall be honored. Maybe, if his heir's life or honor is threatened by the possession of the books, I would re-consider it.

[Gretchen Wagner]

"Is there anything I can do to help around the house?" Gretchen asks Nicoletta. "Or perhaps you would like a song to lighten your heart?"

[Ghorza Thursisdottir]

"Aye...Wanda, is it? The longer these books sit here, the worse it is going to be. We should set out as soon as possible, to ensure that his last will be done." And that we get paid. She thought to herself.

[Uwe von Roth]

Uwe looks back at the others and the box of books. "The professor's will was quite plain in asking that we hold for a month. Perhaps it was a request for simple company for Miss Lorrimor, perhaps something else. But for now it be best if we focused on the lady." Uwe says.

[Ghorza Thursisdottir]

Ghorza perched her lips, but held her peace. She nodded and leant against the wall. A month it was then. She told herself it would go by quickly enough.

[Yesult Garrett]

Yesult says Perhaps both can be accomplished. You might have servants to watch the estate and take a nice trip with us all to the college and back to get your mind off things. We could stop at a few towns, see the sights?