[D&D 4E PbP] Carrion Crown Act 1: The Haunting of Harrowstone (IC)
TiamatZ
Ghost punsThe Banette of my existenceRegistered User regular
Ghost punsThe Banette of my existenceRegistered User regular
The Carrion Crown Act 1: The Haunting of Harrowstone, a Dungeons & Dragons (4E) adventure for six five first level characters
This is a PbP game.
I, TiamatZ, will be your DM. Sheets are on myth-weavers (or Orokos). Dice rolls are on IC (or once again Orokos). For now, this is an IC thread. Post OOC discussions/comments/questions/etc in the OOC thread to avoid clutter and confusion.
I expect each of you to post at least once a day (except maybe on weekends [Saturdays and Sundays]) when you're able (though if it’s your turn, by all means post during the weekend; I’ll just post the updated map by Monday or so). If you'll be away for an extended period of time, let me know so that I (or you) can make arrangements to keep the game moving while you're gone (or postpone it if the majority of the party is unavailable). I'm a level-headed person, and I won't kick you out for missing posts here and there. That being said, if you flake consistently you'll be removed from the party.
For combat, I will provide the HP, AC and other defences (as well as any special bonuses monsters receive e.g. +2 AC when standing next to each other) of the enemies present and you shall roll attack rolls. If you hit, roll damage and work that into your post. Also I colour coded the monsters (makes it easier to work with, since most of you are newbies to the PbP format) by their border; red are minions, green are normal monsters, yellow are elites and purple are solos. So if you pop a daily on a red bordered monster you are going to feel really silly because it shouldn't last more than a single hit. Everyone will post their IC actions, with the rolls and results in SPOILER tags.
I will use TalonRazor’s idea (from the Legend of Novus PbP game). You must declare what you are doing in ORANGE text. The rolls must be in RED BOLD text and linked to the IC (or Orokos) roll. At the bottom of the post, still in spoiler tags, they shall post who is up next, in brackets and size 3 font that is GREEN, and who is on deck. Here is the template:
"Johnny Law swings his mighty fist, smacking the honest citizen in the face."
For immediate interrupts, remember to post them with any criteria to follow in orange as well. If one of your powers has an immediate interrupt ability, state that power as well as when to use it e.g. when a monster strikes me, I want to use power X (where X is the power with immediate interrupt, such as Wizard’s Shield utility power, or the Fighter’s No Opening Utility power).
Also link to OOC thread: here
The primary goal here is for us all to have fun. I’m (mostly) new to PbP DMing and you’re all also (probably) new to PbP games, so we’re all noobs here. If you're not having fun for some reason, please let me know. Alright, now that that's all out of the way, let's go roll some dice and kill some monsters!
Act 1: The Haunting of Harrowstone
" You are hereby sentenced to live the remainder of your short life in Harrowstone, which, I hasten to add, is a blessing compared to the extent of your crimes and the suffering of your victims. There you will reside in the misery of your thoughts until such time as you are drawn, hanged, and quartered. May the gods have no mercy on your blighted soul."
—The final sentencing of Vance Saetressle (“The Lopper”) by Jurisdeclaris Axenris the Third.
Contents:
Prologue: Funeral for a friend
Chapter 1: Strange days in Ravengro
DaMoonRulz as Airyc Smithsson, the Half-Orc Slayer - Big, dumb, and ugly: the three cornerstones of the Bodyguard profession. Airyc Smithsson had these three attributes and used them effectively the past five years in service to Professor Lorrimor. While visiting with his father in between adventures with Lorrimor, Airyc was notified by courier that the Professor was now confined to the past-tense and that Airyc was to attend the proceedings. Fueled by a mix of anger and shame that his childhood hero had died in his absence, the Half-Orc set out for Ustalav.
Witch_Hunter_84 as Cranea Treesong, Hamadryad Witch - Travelling to the town of Ravengro with her trusty Sprite Familiar and a mourning heart, Cranea Treesong, the beautiful Witch of Shudderwood, has left her isolated grove to pay her respects to her long-time friend Professor Petros Lorrimor. Still shocked by the news of his death, Cranea wishes to discover the means by which Petros met his end. While she hopes that it was peaceful, she cannot help but feel that there may be more to the situation than there seems. Although still a bit naive, regardless of Petros' attempts to "wisen her up", those who would seek to take advantage of this fair traveler invite the wrath of the witch.
Grog as Drellethenne Y'sthrennelle, the Revenant Eladrin Fighter - After a fateful expedition with Professor Lorrimor, Drell found that he was, mostly, dead. Bewildered by his inexplicable survival into death, he has wandered many lands, avoiding graveyards and priests. Though Ustalav is the last place he would visit, the Professor's summons has stirred something in him that he hasn't felt since he was alive.
Bearrorrist as Kledge Black, the Human Artificer - Smelling slightly of burned hair and missing part of an eyebrow and full of ideas about new ways to do something, Kledge unfortunately has inventors block. Hoping to find inspiration in a new setting, he sets off from his family home and smithy with his pack of tools.
MMAgCh as Valagard Marnasdóttir, the Gold Dwarven Cleric of Ioun - Born to an unknown father and a mother-turned-necromancer, Valagard was liberated by adventurers as a young girl and subsequently raised by Iounites. Under their tutelage, she grew to be an able cleric with inclinations both scholarly and martial, and it was in this capacity that she came to know and befriend Professor Lorrimor, one of the very few individuals who understood her refusal to renounce her unwholesome heritage...whose shadow lingers on her to this very day.
Smoove Operator as Darrius LeCroix ,the Human Ranger - Darrius LeCroix (or just LeCroix to most) has traveled to Ravenglo to pay his respects to his old adventuring companion Lorrimor. After serving as a sentry in Karcau miltia, LeCroix joined the good professor and served as his scout and guide on several lucrative quests. Never good with money, LeCroix quickly gambled his small fortune away. Penniless again, but ever affable, LeCroix approaches Ravengro, reminiscent of more exciting times spent chasing ancient artifacts with Professor Lorrimor. Darrius went missing in the nearby forests of Ravengro after the Professor's funeral. His fate remains uncertain...
Orokos/MythWeavers Campaign name (this you use when you use the Dice Roller):
Quest List:
Trust Points:
The Specifics
This is a PbP game.
I, TiamatZ, will be your DM. Sheets are on myth-weavers (or Orokos). Dice rolls are on IC (or once again Orokos). For now, this is an IC thread. Post OOC discussions/comments/questions/etc in the OOC thread to avoid clutter and confusion.
I expect each of you to post at least once a day (except maybe on weekends [Saturdays and Sundays]) when you're able (though if it’s your turn, by all means post during the weekend; I’ll just post the updated map by Monday or so). If you'll be away for an extended period of time, let me know so that I (or you) can make arrangements to keep the game moving while you're gone (or postpone it if the majority of the party is unavailable). I'm a level-headed person, and I won't kick you out for missing posts here and there. That being said, if you flake consistently you'll be removed from the party.
For combat, I will provide the HP, AC and other defences (as well as any special bonuses monsters receive e.g. +2 AC when standing next to each other) of the enemies present and you shall roll attack rolls. If you hit, roll damage and work that into your post. Also I colour coded the monsters (makes it easier to work with, since most of you are newbies to the PbP format) by their border; red are minions, green are normal monsters, yellow are elites and purple are solos. So if you pop a daily on a red bordered monster you are going to feel really silly because it shouldn't last more than a single hit. Everyone will post their IC actions, with the rolls and results in SPOILER tags.
I will use TalonRazor’s idea (from the Legend of Novus PbP game). You must declare what you are doing in ORANGE text. The rolls must be in RED BOLD text and linked to the IC (or Orokos) roll. At the bottom of the post, still in spoiler tags, they shall post who is up next, in brackets and size 3 font that is GREEN, and who is on deck. Here is the template:
"Johnny Law swings his mighty fist, smacking the honest citizen in the face."
Standard Action: Basic Melee Attack Move Action: Stand there
Attack Roll [1d20+4 = 16+4 = 20] Damage Roll [1d20+10 = 1+10 = 11]
[Up Next: Bobby Joe][On Deck: Chuck Norris] (or red for enemies)
Attack Roll [1d20+4 = 16+4 = 20] Damage Roll [1d20+10 = 1+10 = 11]
[Up Next: Bobby Joe][On Deck: Chuck Norris] (or red for enemies)
For immediate interrupts, remember to post them with any criteria to follow in orange as well. If one of your powers has an immediate interrupt ability, state that power as well as when to use it e.g. when a monster strikes me, I want to use power X (where X is the power with immediate interrupt, such as Wizard’s Shield utility power, or the Fighter’s No Opening Utility power).
Also link to OOC thread: here
The primary goal here is for us all to have fun. I’m (mostly) new to PbP DMing and you’re all also (probably) new to PbP games, so we’re all noobs here. If you're not having fun for some reason, please let me know. Alright, now that that's all out of the way, let's go roll some dice and kill some monsters!
Act 1: The Haunting of Harrowstone
" You are hereby sentenced to live the remainder of your short life in Harrowstone, which, I hasten to add, is a blessing compared to the extent of your crimes and the suffering of your victims. There you will reside in the misery of your thoughts until such time as you are drawn, hanged, and quartered. May the gods have no mercy on your blighted soul."
—The final sentencing of Vance Saetressle (“The Lopper”) by Jurisdeclaris Axenris the Third.
Contents:
Prologue: Funeral for a friend
Chapter 1: Strange days in Ravengro
The Cast (AKA the party):
Current Party:
DaMoonRulz as Airyc Smithsson, the Half-Orc Slayer - Big, dumb, and ugly: the three cornerstones of the Bodyguard profession. Airyc Smithsson had these three attributes and used them effectively the past five years in service to Professor Lorrimor. While visiting with his father in between adventures with Lorrimor, Airyc was notified by courier that the Professor was now confined to the past-tense and that Airyc was to attend the proceedings. Fueled by a mix of anger and shame that his childhood hero had died in his absence, the Half-Orc set out for Ustalav. Witch_Hunter_84 as Cranea Treesong, Hamadryad Witch - Travelling to the town of Ravengro with her trusty Sprite Familiar and a mourning heart, Cranea Treesong, the beautiful Witch of Shudderwood, has left her isolated grove to pay her respects to her long-time friend Professor Petros Lorrimor. Still shocked by the news of his death, Cranea wishes to discover the means by which Petros met his end. While she hopes that it was peaceful, she cannot help but feel that there may be more to the situation than there seems. Although still a bit naive, regardless of Petros' attempts to "wisen her up", those who would seek to take advantage of this fair traveler invite the wrath of the witch. Grog as Drellethenne Y'sthrennelle, the Revenant Eladrin Fighter - After a fateful expedition with Professor Lorrimor, Drell found that he was, mostly, dead. Bewildered by his inexplicable survival into death, he has wandered many lands, avoiding graveyards and priests. Though Ustalav is the last place he would visit, the Professor's summons has stirred something in him that he hasn't felt since he was alive. Bearrorrist as Kledge Black, the Human Artificer - Smelling slightly of burned hair and missing part of an eyebrow and full of ideas about new ways to do something, Kledge unfortunately has inventors block. Hoping to find inspiration in a new setting, he sets off from his family home and smithy with his pack of tools. MMAgCh as Valagard Marnasdóttir, the Gold Dwarven Cleric of Ioun - Born to an unknown father and a mother-turned-necromancer, Valagard was liberated by adventurers as a young girl and subsequently raised by Iounites. Under their tutelage, she grew to be an able cleric with inclinations both scholarly and martial, and it was in this capacity that she came to know and befriend Professor Lorrimor, one of the very few individuals who understood her refusal to renounce her unwholesome heritage...whose shadow lingers on her to this very day.
Fallen in Battle :
Smoove Operator as Darrius LeCroix ,the Human Ranger - Darrius LeCroix (or just LeCroix to most) has traveled to Ravenglo to pay his respects to his old adventuring companion Lorrimor. After serving as a sentry in Karcau miltia, LeCroix joined the good professor and served as his scout and guide on several lucrative quests. Never good with money, LeCroix quickly gambled his small fortune away. Penniless again, but ever affable, LeCroix approaches Ravengro, reminiscent of more exciting times spent chasing ancient artifacts with Professor Lorrimor. Darrius went missing in the nearby forests of Ravengro after the Professor's funeral. His fate remains uncertain...Orokos/MythWeavers Campaign name (this you use when you use the Dice Roller):
PA CarrionCrown
Quest List:
Current Quests:
Completed Quests:
- Attend the Professor’s Funeral (Completed)
-Remain for 30 days in Ravengro to fulfill Professor Lorrimor's will (29 days remaining)
-Find out how Professor Lorrimor died
-Find out how Professor Lorrimor died
Completed Quests:
- Attend the Professor’s Funeral (Completed)
Trust Points:
To be unlocked...
TiamatZ on
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It has been seventeen days since Professor Lorrimor passed away. The letter that arrived with the grave news was delivered to you personally by a courier, who soon went on his way immediately after confirming your identity. The letter was penned by a steady hand. Tears decorated the edges of the parchment - it was signed by a Ms. Kendra Lorrimor, the Professor’s daughter whom he had discussed fondly during your late travels and adventures with the man. He had always described her as a small child, always inquisitive and studying hard to become an impressive scholar in her own right.
She writes that some 15 years ago, her father had retired from the University of Lepidstadt (and most of adventuring) and had made his home in the town of Ravengro, although still making the occasional research trip and the odd lecture tour. He met his demise in a tragic accident whilst conducting research in the environs of Ravengro, and in the copious instructions that he had left her, had requested that you each be summoned to attend his funeral and to hear the reading of his Last Will and Testament.
And so you have come, from the far corners of the mortal realm and even beyond, drawn by conflicting emotions: some with respect, some with curiosity, and some even with fear... but all sharing one common quality: a sorrow that had consumed you with the news of your friend’s death.
When you arrive at Ravengro, it is late afternoon. The skies are dark, and as if the gods themselves could not hide their grief, the clouds seem to be on the verge of weeping. Kendra's message requested that you come to The Restlands, as the town burial ground is known, and meet her at the gate. She hinted that perhaps some of you might feel moved to act as pall-bearers for this, his last journey.
Darius and Kledge:
When you arrive at the Restlands, you both notice a tall, slim woman dressed in dark conservative clothes (a floor-length dark red dress) and three men dressed in dark-brown robes, with their hoods drawn over their heads, each one carrying the symbol of Kelemvor on their robes standing at the entrance. A coffin could be seen lying on a makeshift, drab blanket, to avoid it from touching the ground.
Note:
Thanks to the wonders of story narrative, you have all (conveniently) arrived precisely at the time you need to present yourselves at the graveyard gates to attend the funeral. So please describe yourselves as you arrive.
Here is a map of Ravengro:
You'll have time to explore in due course, and in the future I’ll use the letters as reference to the various locations of interest. For now, The Restlands (i.e. the graveyard) is indicated by P, off the map to the north of town.
Some details regarding Ravengro (this is considered common knowledge even to outsiders of Ustalav): It’s a small town that supports a total population of 311, the majority of whom are human. As is the case of such small, remote towns, the community tends to be insular, ignoring strangers that visit their town.
Also: Enjoy the campaign!
Edit: Decided to make Kelemvor the patron god of the dead, mostly since his portfolio coincides much better to Pharasma’s (the Pathfinder goddess of Death) than that of the cold and devious Raven Queen.
Edit 2: I’ll also add a Youtube song to represent what mood/theme is currently evoked in each scene. Tell me what you guys think in the OOC thread. If you guys dn't want it in the future, just answer me in the OOC thread.
Deciding that the slim women was likely his best bet for direction, he began, stammering, "Umm, hello ma'am. Lorrimor was...he...My name is LeCroix. I'm an old friend of the Professor's. I got a letter saying he was de...that he wasn't...about his current, umm situation. I wanted to be here to say goodbye, and...help out anyway that I can. Kendra said...Ms. Lorrimor mentioned that the coff...the pallbearers. I can help with that. If you need."
Smooth as ever, LeCroix thought to himself as he shifted, waiting on the woman's response.
Religion: symbols of Kelemvor: 1d20+0 19
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HoTS: Schmutz#1686
"Uh, I can help too, I think."
The half-orc approached the cemetary gates, placed his left hand on his hip and hefted the wrapped axe over his right shoulder.
"Bring me to him!" Airyc barked the command and waited for someone to make a move. It was a method that usually worked for him.
Intimidate 1d20+15=2+15=17
....I did mention he's tired, right?
"A fine death shroud certainly, but you're not the corpse that's going in the ground".
Throwing the garment to the dusty floor of his room, an idea struck him. He took his spear in hand.
~
The breeze tussled a strip of fine black cloth that had been tied to the longspear Drell rested against. A trickle of guests had arrived and the pale eladrin, not wanting to draw attention to his hesitation, strode toward the gate as if it were his own funeral.
Startled from his determined march by the half-orc's shout and seeing no one answer, he turned to the brute himself.
"What's the rush? The professor isn't going anywhere."
Sensing her melancholy, Fwisp, a sprite that Cranea had befriended before leaving the fey, fluttered out of the inside pocket of her travelling cloak. He flitted about her head, tumbling through the air and performing small tricks in an effort to make her smile. She was able to force a small one for her tiny friend, but it was forced and they both knew it. As she came upon the road leading directly to the cemetery Cranea passed a small child with her mother.
"Mama, mama", the child said, pulling on her mother's skirts, "why is that lady naked?" Cranea looked down at her attire, underneath her heavy cloak she did indeed have very little else in terms of what most thought of as descent. Cranea's clothing did cover her in the barest of sense of the term, she had woven the attire from the grasses and leaves of her grove using magical means, giving the vegetation a cloth-like consistency; and it covered just enough to keep from totally offending strangers, but not enough to hide her form entirely like most people tried to do. She considered her body to be an expression of her self and her spirit, a thing of beauty, and one did not seek to hide beauty from the world, although in Ustalav it seemed most did. She ignored the child and its mother, who was busy covering her daughter's eyes, and pushed on toward the gate of the cemetery . . . where it seemed a burly half-orc was a step away from losing its temper.
"Bring me to him!", she heard. That stopped her in her tracks. She had become considerably braver in the wider-world since meeting Petros, but she had never lost her initial wariness for strangers. Speaking in hushed tones below the half-orc's plane of hearing, Cranea entreated with the man's very shadow, asking it to conceal her until she wished to make herself known or she felt safe. The shadow was more than willing, it knew the foul humors of its counterpart and was willing to accommodate her. Gathering the darkness about her, she slipped in-between the shadow and its master, staying in step with the half-orc until such a time that she chose to reveal herself to those around her (or she was discovered). Now it was time to see who else showed up.
By the time of Valagard's arrival in Ravengro, she has brought her emotions well under control again, though a certain bitterness lingers, a dogged loathing of the fact that it was Professor Lorrimor who died and not someone more deserving of such a fate – an almost blasphemous thought, of course, and one the dwarf wisely kept to herself. While frankly surprised to be summoned to the funeral by name, she was also relieved to be given the chance to pay the late scholar her last respects, having been given leave to attend by her superior at the Fane largely on account of the daughter of the deceased having asked her to attend personally; she doubts she could have managed otherwise, even if she had heard of Lorrimor's death in time.
And now here she is in dreary Ravengro, a town that looks much like Valagard feels right now. She is wearing her full clerical attire, with plain scale mail glinting dully underneath her cloak and a two-handed hammer of sorts, its narrow head emblazoned with the mark of Ioun, slung across her back. This very garb is what she usually found herself in while accompanying the professor, and while it does no doubt appear just a little out of place at a funeral, Valagard feels certain that Lorrimor would approve, considering that her armour and weapon were sometimes all that stood between him and dire danger, if not outright death.
Except this one time, the dwarf thinks darkly as she approaches the burial grounds, briefly taking in the thoroughly joyless sight of them before wandering over to join Airyc, the one person here she recognises. "This gentleman is right, you know," Valagard puts in quietly, her hooded cloak shading part of her pale face as she turns it up to look at the half-orc. "Professor Lorrimor travelled so much, he won't mind a delay of a few minutes." She then sets her eyes on the eladrin, curiosity getting the better of her. "You knew him too?"
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HoTS: Schmutz#1686
"You guys knew the Professor? Did you attend his lecture on 'Theoretical Interactions of Arcane ...' " Kledge trailed off as it was obvious nobody had a clue what he was saying. "Alright then ... I, uh ... just grab a handle right?" He'd seen it done before he was sure, it shouldn't be that hard. Oh gods, if I make a fool of myself in public again...
The Half-Orc stomped his way to the offending party and, snarling, grabbed Drell's great spear with one hand while placing his other hand on Drell's shoulder. Airyc leaned in close and tightened his grip. His voice was eerily calm and quiet, similar to how mom's speak when you're really in trouble. "I don't appreciate you trying to lighten the mood, funny man," by now Airyc's face was mere inches from Drell's, "This gathering is to honor a great man and I won't let some punk come by and try to make a mockery of it. You get me, funny man?". Their faces were now only about an inch apart and the Eladrin could just touch the ground with his tippy-toes if he tried hard enough. Airyc stared Drell down waiting for a response, kinda hoping for an excuse to really lay into someone and get out his pent up frustrations.
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HoTS: Schmutz#1686
"Now now, that's enough of that." she whispered in honeyed tones, "we are all in pain here, and we all loved dear Petros in our own ways. Acting in such a manner dishonor's that memory."
Ignoring the astonished looks of the other people present at her sudden appearance, Cranea took the obviously pained half-orc's hands and looked him in the eyes. "We are here to say goodbye, let us all just go and do that . . . for Petros."
"He's really gone...," Airyc weakly mustered before becoming overwhelmed with emotion. He wrapped his arms around this stranger and buried his head in her shoulder, sobbing loudly while gripping her a bit too tight for comfort. Or as comfortable as one can be while being cried on a grief-stricken Half-Orc, anyways.
Eying the big axe with a wary eye "At least he calms down quick."
At least now any faux pas I do will most likely be forgotten. I hope that big guy is angry at me anytime soon.
"No..." he started, "That's her isn't it?" LeCroix was smiling and nearly laughing as he addressed the repository of the Professor's remains. "THAT'S the dryad you told me you used to visit for advice! You old dog! And to think I never believed those campfire stories!" It was at that moment that LeCroix realized that he too was catching more than his share of disapproving looks. He stopped laughing abruptly and coughed uncomfortably. He addressed the onlookers that had for the moment ignored the half-orc crushing the nearly naked dryad, "Ahem, the late Professor explained to me that many years ago he sought the sage advice of a wise forest maiden on matters of utmost historical and arcane importance. He would often extol her virtues and forthrightness to me. I believe this to be that maiden."
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HoTS: Schmutz#1686
"Seems we're all friends of the professor here, so there's no need to cause a stir. Drellethenne's the name and I understand some pallbearers are required?"
He looked at the two humans who had rushed over and seemed to know what was going on. Hopefully they could tell him what a pallbearer was. Drell simply had no idea about human funeral rites.
Kelemvor presides over the passage from life to death, judging the faithless and the false and apportioning souls to their proper fate in the afterlife. His followers are drawn from those who find comfort in the natural transition from life to death and those who battle undead and the practitioners of necromancy, wherever they might be found. Kelemvor’s absolute fairness, firm hand,
and steady grace bring comfort to those who lose a loved one. The Lord of the Dead gives simple dictates to his followers:
✦ Do not fear death, for death is the natural stage that follows life.
✦ Give comfort to the bereaved.
✦ Destroy the undead, and oppose the use of necromancy.
The Symbol of Kelemvor:
Kelemvor is considered the most widely followed deity in Ustalav, as even a remote town such as this one has a temple dedicated to the Lord of the Dead (you passed it as you made your way to the Restlands)
The woman remains quiet, as the heroes introduced one another, her eyes are red and puffy. Her own expression is a mixture of curiosity, relief and sorrow during their exchanges with one another. When it looked as though they were done dispensing pleasantries, she spoke: "Are you...? Did the letters arrived in time?"
Image of Kendra Lorrimor:
She shakes her head softly and curtsies for you. "I...I apologize, where are my manners? My name is Kendra Lorrimor. Normally I would have been ecstatic to hear tales and stories from my father's most trusted of friends, but I'm afraid the gods were not with us today. My father... oh forgive me once again. Father Grimburrow, these four fine men have decided to be my Father's pallbearers. I hope you don' t mind?"
One of the robed figures removes his hood, revealing a bald man with withering features and grey eyebrows "Good, good. You will lead the procession up the Dreamwake. We will wait for you on the burial site." He motions to his other acolytes, and the two silently make their way into the Restlands, with Grimburrow muttering under his own breath...
Darius and Kledge:
You can hear him say: "What an odd bunch of people to be called friends of Lorrimor..."
Kendra turns back to the heroes. "Thank you for... for coming. I...there are few who wish to pay their respects to my father, with things the way they are in town these days."
The tone of her voice is bitter - and sad. She wipes away the small hint of a tear in her eye. She looks at all of you, her lips tugged into a mournful smile.
Father Grimburrow leads most of you all to the coffin (since Darius was already there): it is a dark casket, with few decorations. On top of it lays a small thicket of carefully prepared purple roses. He bows to you and sets off with the other two across the cemetery. Kendra turns to the coffin and gazes at it - longing is in her eyes.
"I...I think four of you should be able to lift the casket. Now, no doubt some of you have questions regarding my Father, but... please understand. It's a ... difficult time for me while he hasn't been put to proper rest. Once this is over, I'd like for you all to come back to the estate, and I'll answer any questions you have..."
Notes:
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HoTS: Schmutz#1686
The Dreamwake is a stretch of curved road around two hundred feet long; the gravel crunches beneath the heroes' feet, though despite the weight of the casket they don't struggle to keep balance. When the group passed the gates, they were met with the remaining mourners, five in total. Of the remaining townsfolk, no one else could be seen.
Kendra gestures towards them. "These good folks have come to honor my father. That there is Councilmen Vashian Hearthmount and Gharen Muricar...", a plump, porty man with a finely trimmed mustache and goatee and a reed thin man wearing a monocle on his left eye each nod respectively. "And that there is good old tavernkeeper Zokar Elkarid and his son Pevrin", a jolly man with a walrus mustache and a young boy barely past his teens nod as well. Of them all, only Zokar seems to give any attempt of a half-hearted smile. "And that there is Jominda Fallenbridge, the apothecary and one of my father's good friends," the young elven woman nearby nods as well, but seems to be lost in thought, as though busy thinking on concoctions back at her shop.
All of them however, understand the grim task at hand, and remain somber throughout the trip, respecting the peace that is to be given to the Professor.
Eventually the group round the corner to the Eversleep - only to find the path blocked by a dozen locals. Their expressions are surly, and they are all spread. A man, broad by the shoulders and with a worn face, approaches. When he speaks, it is with an authority reminiscent of a retired soldier.
“That’s far enough, Lass. 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!”
Kendra is swift to respond, her sadness swiftly transforming into anger. “What are you talking about?” she cries out. “I have already arranged it with Father Grimburrow. He’s waiting for us! The grave’s already been...”
Note:
"We can stand here all day, or you can let the group of heavily armed mercenaries bury their friend. Your choice"
"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. See, we've been eyeing the professor lately, him reading them mysterious books us good folk shouldn't read. And his visits to harrowstones not been pretty either. Doon't take a simple man such as myself to put two and two together.”
He folds his hands, defiantly at the Eladrin.
"Now we can do this the easy way, or we do it the hard way. Your choice!" he answers in a repeated tone as that of the elf, obviously mocking him.
Note:
There are two ways to handle this:
1) The peaceful way
Complexity; (XX Successes and 3 failures; Current Success: 1)
Primary Skills
Diplomacy, Religion, Intimidate, Bluff
Other Skills
Athletics, Insight
Victory
The mob disperses without further incident.
Defeat
The mob is incited to violence, and the PCs have a fight on their hands.
Athletics
DC 15 A success or failure on this skill check does not count as a success or failure for the challenge, but grants a +5 bonus to the next Intimidate check made by an ally during the challenge. Can only be used once.
The hero shows off a bit of muscle, giving the mob cause to think twice before picking a fight with such a brute.
Diplomacy
DC 13 A successful check counts as a success on the challenge.
The hero lowers the level of tension in the air with a few well-chosen words.
Religion
DC 12 A successful check counts as a success on the challenge.
The hero warns the mob what calamities may befall on them if the teachings of Kelemvor aren’t followed. Though he might have been a necromancer, he still deserves a proper burial like any normal man.
Insight
DC 15 A success or failure on this skill check does not count as a success or failure for the challenge, but allows a single failed Diplomacy or Intimidate check to be re-rolled. This can only take place once during the challenge.
The hero clarifies his companion's rough remarks in order to avoid increasing the mob's hostility.
Intimidate
DC 13 A successful check counts as a success on the challenge.
The hero threatens the mob with their own brand of violence should they not choose to back down.
Bluff
DC 12 A successful check counts as a success on the challenge.
The hero tries to bluff his/her way out of this situation, using any information he has to calm such superstitious folk. It might not be true, but if these folk are as superstitious as they look, it might tip the odds into the hero’s favor.
or
2) The violent way (Hulk smash!)
edited to be more diplomatic.
Feeling herself ashamed that the late professor's funeral must be thus spoiled, the cleric nevertheless steps forward to stand beside the pallbearers, turning pale blue eyes on the villagers. "Do you know what it is you demand?" she asks, her voice quiet but cold. "Do you deny the Lord of the Dead what is his? Have you forgotten that it is He who judges, not you?" The dwarf's eyes narrow. "If what you claim is true, Kelemvor will mete out His judgement as befits the crime, as He has done since the first days of the world – but it is not your place to pre-empt Him, nor indeed to interfere with the last path all deceased must take. 'And clothe them in a shroud, the virtuous and the wicked, and take them to the hallowed grounds, and set them in the earth with reverence: for they go to appear before the face of Our Lord, that in death He may weigh their deeds in life.' So it is written in the Book of Repose. Do you think to ignore the teachings of Kelemvor thus? Do you think yourselves above His judgement?"
Having spoken her piece, Valagard falls silent and looks at each of the villagers in turn, her gaze hard as mithral, daring them to profess their profane intent, trusting that they can imagine the consequences of so offending the Lord of the Dead without any further help from her.
Way too close for comfort there.
"Yes, please. Your very own township has given this funeral its blessing, along with the holy priests meant to safeguard your people's sacred resting places. Do you all have so little faith in your priests to think they would allow a necromancer to be buried here?"
Next intimidate check gets +5
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HoTS: Schmutz#1686
With that he spat on the ground and glared at each person blocking their path individually.
"What do you lot think?" he asks the others, turning his head towards them, only realizing he was short of five men. He soon spots the the deserters fleeing halfway to the opposite direction (having been scared stiff of Airyc threat). The man curses them. "Cowards!"
"Bah! You needs them lot, we still outnumber ya. Listen here, I don't know where ya got the dwarven charlatan from, and I dun care what the priests say, I ain't gettin' a filthy necromancer buried amongst our faithful kin. Even the great Lord said to defeat Necromancers, whatever form they posses. Fer all we know he ain't dead, but one of them deadwalkers, whatcha call em, a slich, fitch? doesn't matter. And I think you lot are... or maybe were in cahoots with the old dodger. Figured the Prof. would hang around with a mena...menage....meenag.... a freakshow such as you lot. A walkin' tree, a pale elf, a runty dwarf, a thug and a Half-Orc too. Dunno what the lad over theres for," he says as he points to Kledge, " but hes probably here cause of some overdue repayment. Prof. never could keep his nose outta decent folk's business..."
It seems that, however they threatened this man wasn't going to work. Not if he still had the advantage of numbers...
"Ironic that the accusation of necromancy would be leveled at the late professor, considering his hand in destroying the foul lich-" Here he enunciated the word carefully, mocking the portly blowhard, before turning back to the rabble.
"-Nezkar Thrice-Risen! Though I wasn't there myself, I can personally attest to the professors invaluable aid to the priests of Kelemvor in research into the dissipation of necromantic energies."
He paused to let his audience wrap their heads around some of the longer words, before putting on his most genuine smile.
"But I am sure that you fine, respectable folk knew of the professor's impeccable reputation already."
"I know that you believe you are defending your village, and you are admirable men for doing so." she said taking a few steps further. "But I assure you that this man is no necromancer, nor did he ever truck with such magics in his life. I am a child of the forests, I speak with their spirits and commune with the forces of life, it would cause me physical pain to be around such dark forces, so the fact that I am standing by this casket's side should tell you something." She edged to almost within arms reach of the ringleader, the barely clad dryad looking into his eyes imploringly while giving her skin a slight glow. "Please let us pass and put him to rest, I swear to you there is no evil in him, and I would be especially grateful to the men who allowed reason to overcome their fear and left this well enough alone."
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HoTS: Schmutz#1686
Re-roll that Diplomacy check!
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HoTS: Schmutz#1686
Airyc's lips readjusted themselves into something between a rictus-grin and a scowl and he tried his best to sound friendly, "I'm in a good mood today, so how about you let us go about our business and we'll leave peacefully. I have no urge to beat the ever-lovin' snout out of the lot of you. I'm bad at remembering faces, so there's absolutely no chance whatsoever I'll come back after the funeral and use my axe to quarter you like the chickens you are. Whaddya say....." he looked at the unconvinced faces before him, "friends?"
ha, I'm never gonna crit in combat.
At Kledge's final words, a wave of murmurs wash over the group of thugs - and they all disperse instantaneously. Their eyes are laden with scorn but they say no more. The broad shouldered man looks disgusted at his once supportive mates. "Bah! The nine Hells take you lot! Fine, bury the old geezer here in the Restlands, see if I care! But mark my words," he says as he points to the heroes, " this lot's trouble, I just know it. When things DO go to the Nine Hells, I can already say its these lot that'll be the end of Ravengro. I just...know it! Let no man say good ole' Hephenus didn't warn ya lot!" With his threat said, the man stomps off, cursing the ground and following the others who have now left the graveyard proper. The rest of the locals were most impressed at how this group of outsiders handled the situation well, with not a single drop of blood shed on this sacred day...
Skill Challenge Completed:
Experience Points: 300 XP total
Bonus XP: 450 for solving the crisis peacefully
Total XP earned: 750 XP for the party
Trust points earned : 1
Trust Points (What's all this bro?):
Ravengro’s overall trust in the PCs is expressed by a numerical value—a Trust score. This score is shared by the entire party—acts of individual members can affect this total just as surely as acts
the entire group takes part in. When the adventure begins, the PCs have a Trust score of 20 (neutral). As the days go by, the PCs can increase their trust score.
Soon Father Grimburrow comes rushing from the distance. He clasps his chest and heaves for air. "Kendra, good dear. What happened?"
Kendra is sobbing - she has been ever since the angry mob was there. She is smiling when she wipes away her tears. "That ass-headed fool of a man Hephenus tried to stop the burial, but... But my father's friends convinced them to leave us be."
The man sighs and finds a handkerchief from his pocket, and hands it to Kendra, who offers her thanks. He looks at the heroes, with a hint of respect. "You have my thanks. To think that they would disturb a funeral..."
He leaves shortly, asking that the procession carries on. Kendra looks grateful as the group continues along the Eversleep, to the burial site. When they arrive they find that the two acolytes that were with Father Grimburrow finishing the grave site. Nodding to the Father, Grimburrow turns back to the procession. "We may start."
The sermon begins. As you lower the coffin into the grave, Father Grimburrow begins his speech. "Today, we have gathered here, to commemorate Petros Lorrimor, father to Kendra Lorrimor..."
The sermon lasts all but ten minutes; the air is laden with mourning. He invites Kendra to say a few words. She fights back tears, her voice trembling. "I ... I have no words to say. Father was... he was the best father I could ever ask for. I remember the year I turned ten, when we first moved to Ravengro, that whenever I did something bad, that my father would scare me by saying that he'll call a very angry Half Orc he knew that punished little girls. I remember he brought home a carved moonstone cup from the Feywild Court, or the quartz skull from a Far Realm monstrosity, or how he'd regale the stories of his adventures against the Bloody Nose goblins from the Temple of Boom. Or the tale of the magnificent Ark of Woe, that he unfortunately had to destroy to prevent a dark cult from enveloping the world in complete darkness. Oh those stories, how he'd like to tell them. And... and I will miss him so..."
She buries her face in her hands, unable to utter another word. Father Grimburrow gives her gentle comfort. "Does anyone wish to honour Petros Lorrimor?"
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Note: