The Haunting of Harrowstone

"Perhaps they were simply afraid of his spooky zombie powers." Spoke the Knave from behind the cover of Oris the Owlbear. What manner of shenanigans was our intrepid owlbear hero up to today? Well, it had been a while since last there had been a good reading of the whimsical happenings within his dark forest home, and Balta was just skimming over the familiar pages and the hand drawn illustrations. "...with a hoot and a growl he mauled the ox foul..."

Pausing, he kept his finger on the page before finally looking up. "You know, now that I think of it, this book teaches you that there's no problem you can't solve without mauling it. I mean, in these stories, the protagonist always has to be worked past his initial fear before he mauls his foe to shreds. Maybe the professor had them genuinely scared and it wasn't until he was a corpse that they decided to speak out against him?"

Putting the book down, he leaned back against the bar, one hand resting atop the wooden counter. "They didn't seem the type for acts of heroism. Hell, three people scared them off without even lifting a finger." With a shrug, he cast his gaze to Millie, then Kevin. "Or maybe they're just ignorant peasants? A lack of education and an abundance of in-breeding will do that to you."

"Maybe so. . ." He'd say, responding more so to the man then to the woman, figuring she might get worked up even more so if he spoke directly to her about this. ". . .though I'm going to look into it, so I can present facts to the people he is no such thing. I rather not let his name be soiled, due to a few people trying to spread rumors, along with other such blasted facts." He states, sighing as he shakes his head. He'd also blow some bangs out of his face. . .only for them to fall back in place. Dammit. Need a hair cut.

"Once I do, I'll feel better about leaving, and not worried that they'll try to dig up his grave and do whatever they think will 'make things right' to it."

It was the most he was saying, seeming to speak more and more as they stuck as a group with one another. Truth be told, it was nice. Despite his looks and from the way he was acting, he was itching for something to do other then merely play the part of guarding the dead. He was still young in the end, and desired something to help make him more of a credit to his cause.

Millie’s head turned from Kevin to Balta as the fighter spoke up once more. Taking a moment to regard the book he had been paging through for the last few minutes, the short verse he read instantly had her recognizing the story. T’was one of many favorite books of hers when she was growing up. Needless to say, she has always been somewhat of a bookworm.

“I suppose that is one probable theory... But even so, Kendra seemed genuinely surprised at the accusation of her father being a necromancer. Rumors tend to escalate, and over the course of all these years it must have been brought up at least a couple times to spread any sort of fear amongst the townfolk.” But even then, rumors alone weren’t typically enough to cause angry mobs to spring up, unless there was hard facts or something just as solid to convict the man.

“It is all just so puzzling~” Millie whimsically sighed as she finally took a step away from the roaring fire with a stretch. Her clothes were dry enough. Folding both hands comfortably behind her back, she began to stroll along the perimeter of the room to examine the myriad of books that spanned the walls in attempts to figure out just how Petros had his personal library catalogued. Soon enough, she recognized the area Balta had been lingering in to have a small collection of children’s books that could entertain an older generation as well. Oh Professor Lorrimor... You were always the ever prepared host.

Eventually Millie’s steps brought her closer to Kevin as he spoke, though her gaze remained on the book bindings while listening to his words. Righting herself from the somewhat hunched over position she had throughout her lazy stroll, she’d finally pivot just enough to look at him from over her shoulder. Once more his armor was given a good look over, in particular the holy symbols that decorated the steel. He was a follower of Pharasma, that much she could conclude at a glance, yet the man was still very much a mystery to her. From what she gathered however, there was a strong sense of honor that he portrayed with his insistence in protecting the Professor’s burial site and wiping clean his name and reputation.

“That is very commendable.” Millie said with a soft smile before finally twirling to face the man. Instantly her features brightened as her bubbly personality sparkled. “I like you, Kevin! There’s something different about ya’ that has me oh so curious! Because of this, I will aid you in this fine investigation you have proclaimed! But first!” Scampering forward, she’d lean in whilst cracking one of her more charming smiles. “Tell me something about yourself! Anything! I already asked Balta this question years ago...” Pausing, she’d bring up a hand in order to whisper: “He likes baboons.” Before popping back up and smiling innocently once more.

“So now by the rules of this game, it is officially your turn!”

Balta watched Millie's little display with a touch of amusement. He remained in his spot near the bar, either elbow propped up atop of it as the two exchanged words across the room. Though, when his name was mentioned as well as his affection for primates, he did manage to speak up.

"I said I find them funny. You know, like Barabus Baboon in the stories..." he said, sounding somewhat offended at first though as soon as he realized the sheer silliness of what he said, he did sort of crack a grin. "... he was a half-wit with a bright red backside. The butt of many jokes."

One of his classic awkward chuckles met the pair, and with that, he'd set about pouring himself a drink while listening in on their conversation.

As Millie got closer, he'd pause while giving her a wary look. Though as she spoke fondly of him, his cheeks would begin to turn that classical red color, whenever one grew shy from anothers actions! He'd look a bit surprised as well, before speaking with a bit of a slight stutter.

". . .i--it's what anyone of my following would do. Would mark us as false followers, if one was to merely turn a blind eye to all of this." He said, trying to explain himself as a man just following the good ol' book of course!

As she went on to ask him that question, pausing to give the other man a 'what the #$%^' type of look at his past answer, he'd look back towards the smaller person infront of him.

"T--that's nice, but I'm fine. If anything would do, I just wish that some day I don't have to do what I'm doing now anymore, and that everyone will leave the dead to their proper rest. . ."

Millie wasn’t satisfied at all with Kevin’s answer. Oh no, she was going to get something good out of him by the end of the hour, and that is exactly what she did. A pause for tea of course would occur, and perhaps a drink or two with Balta, but nevertheless, she was ever the persistent one.

Five minutes till the end of the hour, the double doors to the drawing room slid open as Kendra slowly stepped in to finally rejoin her guests. In comparison to the puffy eyes and red nosed look earlier, she looked much better now that the modest black attire she was wearing had been shed for something far more comfortable. Wrapped within a violet robe that fit her form too perfectly, her bright blue eyes sparkled with renewed will and strength as she nodded to each in turn.

Moving over towards the bar in the corner of the room, a tiny glass was pulled out from behind the bar and filled to near the brim with a bottle of sherry. Raising it to her painted lips, the contents were fluidly consumed before she placed the glass down and turned towards the trio quickly with a hand pressed to her lips.

“Pardon my manners, but I have been needing that all day.” Kendra explained with a reassuring smile and chuckle before moving more towards the group, who had over the hour gravitated towards the comfortable velvet furniture. Taking a seat where she could, a cup of tea was graciously accepted from Wendy who had just arrived with a second brew and small finger sandwiches. Small chat would soon be had, mostly lead by Kendra, yet it wouldn’t get very far before a loud melody of bells chiming marked the doorbell ringer being pulled.

“Ah yes, that should be the Councilman. Precisely on time as always. Well, shall we all relocate to the study?” Kendra chirped just as Wendy rushed off to make sure their new guest was greeted in proper fashion. Rising from her seat, Kendra gestured for everyone to likewise join her as moved out the door and down the long candle lit hallway. Pausing long enough to make sure everyone was in toe, the lady turned with a whirl of her robe before leading them to the study.

Out of all the rooms within the Lorrimor manor, the study was by far the room which reflected the Professor tastes perfectly. Wooden paneled walls were nearly completely covered by cluttered bookshelves that ran from floor to ceiling. A large beautifully carved mahogany desk would naturally catch anyone’s eyes and was suited perfectly with a plush green leather chair that had certainly seen its fair share of use throughout the years.

Standing behind the desk was a rather large man whom any could assume to be Councilman Vashian Hearthmount. No Sense Motive check is necessary to note that he doesn’t completely approve of the strangers in front of him being involved in local matters, but he keeps his comments to himself, focusing his involvement entirely on the reading of Petros’s will.

“Lets get this over with.” Vashian Hearthmount sighed while sliding the large chair out from behind the desk in order to take a seat. The wooden thing creaked out its protest with holding the man’s weight, but otherwise did its job. Kevin, Balta, Millie and Kendra all move forward as the door is closed behind them to take a seat within one of the four chairs that had earlier been placed by one of the maids.

Kendra isn’t sure what’s contained in the will, since part of its stipulation was that all of the named patrons must be present for its reading. Councilman VAshian produces a scroll case from his briefcase, shows that the professor’s personal seal is unbroken to everyone present, then breaks the wax and opens the case without delay. As he does, a small iron key falls out of the tube, clattering noisily onto the table. Undaunted by the key, the councilman begins to read, eager to be done with the business and to get back home.

“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 Vashian Hearthmount:

The pleasantries and bits of conversation that passed were of little interest to Balta. He spent the time listening to Millie's constant word vomit until her voice blended into one prolonged buzz. It was a skill he had learned a while back, not to tune out, but to tune in. Tune in so intensely that anything someone might say simply blended together to a manageable level.

"A bla bla bla bla bla bla" Yes, wonderful, indistinct mumbling. Granted, he knew well enough to nod when gestured to, and to speak when appropriate. Mostly though, he nursed a bottle of spiced rum the professor had kept handy at the bar. Eventually, when his legs felt a touch too wobbly, he did slump into the velvet seating nearby.

He appeared somewhat sleepy until Kendra meandered herself into the room, looking all the more the part of the minx she was. Balta, being somewhat inebriated, though not too much, mind you, couldn't help but appreciate her new choice in attire. Though, even with some drink in his veins he knew well enough to keep his eyes about her face and use his periphery for ogling purposes.

Back to the game of nod and smile, the next few minutes seemed to slip by without much notice. It was only when the bell chimed that he seemed to regain his focus on reality. "After you, Kendra." Probably the first coherent thing he had said in the past twenty or so minutes.

Every step was measured, testing himself to see just how strong a hold the drink had on him. Though, with time it became clear that he was going to be just fine. He had always had a hardy constitution, so alcohol did not effect him for long unless imbibed in large amounts. That much was apparent as he was soon walking as straight as he normally managed.

It was when they reached the study that he was given a moment's pause. The other rooms were full of books, yes, but this one was nothing but books. While most of the house felt so very empty and sterile, this room showed some heart. One could sense that someone had genuinely enjoyed this space, had lived in it, had poured their soul into it. Finally, something that could give the fighter a measure of comfort.

He took an offered seat, staring at the fat chap behind the desk. The councilman clearly did not approve of them, and Balta could not help but feel that a good portion of that dislike was due in part to his mixed heritage. No love for half-elves, it seems. But he was sure he could get used to the stares and disgusted looks.

When they were all seated and ready, the reading began. Had he been a far more greedy sort, he may have hurried the fatty along, wanting to hear just what the old man had decided to give him. Kendra got the house and the estates, no surprise. But a general lack of 'And to Balta Luske, I bequeath my collection of expensive drinks and eager ho's' left him a touch annoyed. Instead of receiving anything they had been given... an assignment? Even from beyond the grave the old man was nothing but a thorn in the side. Hands clenched, the fighter sat motionless in his chair until the mention of the sum that was to be left to himself and to his companions. All traces anger seemed to melt away completely. That kind of money was absurd, and yet all too appealing to pass up.

"Delay it a month? As in a full month? Not just a metaphorical 'when it feels like it's been a month'?" Just leaving his home behind to come on this miserable journey had been trying to say the least. And now he was stuck here for the next thirty days?

Almost subconsciously, he reached into his pocket to remove the handkerchief that had been given to him by the Crimson Queen. He lifted it to his nose and took in its sweet scent, wanting nothing more but another night with that woman.

That much out of the way, he reclined back in his seat, looking over to Millie and Kevin. "So, I suppose we get to pick out our rooms, hmmm?"

As they were all to be seated, the man would make sure to fold his hands upon the table they were sitting at, listening to the will being read to them all. As it went on, he'd chuckle a bit, as it seems the will was turning more into another mission for him to complete. It didn't bother him as much as it did Balta, due to the fact he was planning on staying here for a while anyways.

Though a frown crossed his features, when the mention of tomes was brought up. That might be what made many think he was a necro. He was starting to become a bit unsure of how this would go, because if the tomes did teach of ways on how to bring the dead to walk upon the ground once more. . .he might have to take the books away, and check in with the church to see what was to be done with them. If not. . .then he might even have to go as far as getting rid of them himself.

Then the money was brought up. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII--. His arms would seem to turn to jelly, as his upper body fell forward, his head thwacking into the table hard enough to draw attention. Wincing, he'd bolt up right, seeming a bit lost at what was just given to him. He'd feel a sudden guilt at this now, feeling he shouldn't have such a thing. That money should be going to the daughter or other members of the family! He'd remain silent, but it was clear the money bit was bothering him a great deal, due to the facial expressions creeping across his face.

Stepping into the Professor’s old study, Millie’s eyes twinkled as she admired the room. It reminded her so much of the old man, what with the chaotic yet somewhat organized mess of papers and books that made up the majority of the shelves. For years she had always dreamt of visiting his home and browsing the endless collection of books and tomes he had within, it was truly sad that it had to have been under such unfortunate circumstances as a will reading.

Slipping into one of the chairs that had been provided, the red-head gave an encouraging smile to Kendra, who sat next to her, before looking forward towards the round councilman behind the desk who began to read. Silently she’d listen to him speak, her eyes fixed on the back of the document whilst comprehending what was being said. At the request of returning the borrowed collection of dark tomes from the University of Lepidstadt, Millie absent-mindedly nodded her head in acceptance of the task. She was somewhat familiar with the institute of learning, and would be delighted in paying the place a visit once more to aid the late Petros and Kendra however she could.

The second favor spoken, however, had Millie’s eyes going wide and jaw lax. “Th.. Um... D-did I hear correctly?” Stammering in disbelief, she was at a loss for words. Certainly she suspected something was to be given to her and half expected a journal, book or something akin to such considering their shared love of wisdom and knowledge, but one-hundred platinum pieces however? That... That was a whole lot of money! Why, the things she could /buy/ with such money! Startled by Kevin suddenly slumping forward to thwack his forehead on the desk in front of them, likely due to shock she concluded, a comforting pat was given to his shoulder.

“A month.” Councilman Hearthmount answered with an annoyed tone towards the half-Elf’s inquiry before looking to Millie. “And you heard me well enough, girl. I shan't be repeating myself. By the Gods...” Mumbling under his breath, the councilman produced several documents of paper from his briefcase and set about recording the necessary information that was needed as a stand-in solicitor before looking boredly towards Kendra.

Recognizing his eagerness to leave, Kendra rose from her seat before thanking Vashian Hearthmount and dismissing him. Waiting for the large man to collect his things and be seen to the door by one of the house servants, she let out a soft sigh once he was gone before turning back towards Balta, Kevin and Millie. Putting on as brave a face she could muster, a small smile was shed their way.

“Thank you for coming for this. I’ll need at least a few weeks to decide if I wish to sell the family home or remain here in Ravengro...” Tracing her fingers along the ledge of her father’s mahogany desk, a thoughtful look passed over her features before she shook her head and continued.

“In the meantime, as stipulated by the will, I ask that the three of you stay here as well. Naturally I promise free room and board for the duration of the month; this house is certainly big enough to accommodate so many guests. It would be my honor to make your stay within Ravengro as comfortable and... Welcoming as possible.” Already she could imagine what the townsfolk gossip would be, what with learning that the strangers who attended her father’s funeral would be hanging around for a while.

“If you’ll please excuse me, I’ll go and fetch the chest mentioned in the will.” Pushing away from the desk, Kendra slipped between the chairs before disappearing through the door and down the hall.

For the time being, the trio are left by themselves while waiting.

A month.

A whole month.

His original trip was supposed to last no longer than a few tendays at most, but now he was delaying his return home by another month. Oh, but there was the ever present promise of coin to be made and good times to maybe be had. But a promise from a dead man was about as good as a promise from an old boot. The duty of seeing those promises fulfilled still relied on the benevolence of the living, who, unlike the dead, or boots for that matter, could be as fickle as they pleased. These were the affairs of rich and powerful folk. Balta and his companions were merely pawns to them, so his distrust was immediate, and not without warrant.

"I do not know how I feel about all this." the fighter stated, cupping his chin rather thoughtfully as he leaned onto his chair's fine arm rest. "Then again, we'd all be fools to pass up an opportunity at such a substantial amount..." he continued to speak as though having a debate with himself rather than a discussion with two other people.

"Who's to say that anything on that will is legitimate? I mean, granted, it was very well written, but I do not usually perform work of such magnitude without receiving some payment up front..."

Kevin would grow silent, bringing a hand to rub at his chin while going into thought after all was said and done. A month indeed. It was a bit longer then what he was planning to stay, but it was fine. He didn't mind, due to wanting to solve the riddles the tomes may hold, inwhich they could answer the bit on the towns folks causing them to think he was a follower of sin.

Turning his bright green eyes towards the man speaking about staying, mostly for the money as was the case for most men, he'd sigh a little.

"With how the people are reacting in this town, it would take some time to get another one to take a look over the will, and claim it be true or false. Sooo. . .it'd be best to consider it full-proof, and do as he asks. Besides. . .that money would go to waste if you merely left, all because you didn't want to stay still." There was a small teasing tone to his voice, as it did seem like he had some humor in him after all!

Taking his gaze off of Balta, he'd look towards Millie now before speaking. "If I may. . .I take it you've been here before, and wanted to ask if there was a hall of records perhaps of his travels, along with a history of the town we're now in?" He asked her in a polite tone, wanting to at once get down to finding out where he was going to be for the next month, and what he could do to help the people living within.

After Kendra made her polite and timely exit, Millie sprung up from the chair she was sitting in to shuffle back behind the desk in order to look over the will that remained there. Adjusting her glasses in order to better read the script, her lips moved silently as she read before leaning back with a twist of her mouth. She had been around the Professor long enough to know well enough what his scholarly handwriting looked like, and this will of his matched it perfectly. What’s more, there were several signatures authorizing the document near the bottom, coupled with an official seal of wax by whoever the original solicitor was who notarized the written contents.

In short, it looked pretty damn legit.

“I’unno Balta... I’m no solicitor, but it looks official enough to me. Plus, I wouldn’t peg the Professor as the sort to be dealing with unofficial documentation, especially when it came to legal situations with leaving his inheritance and estates for Kendra.” Righting herself from the hunched over position, the spectacles on Millie’s face were slid up the bridge of her nose with one finger as she looked between the two men before her.

“Why not... Think of it as a vacation! Time away from the mundane routine at the Crimson Court to relax and explore a town completely unknown by us! Not to mention the reward that will be received at the end once these tomes are returned to where they best belong.” Nod nodding her head quickly, which caused her red curls to bounce, she was quite pleased with her little analogy. Then again, Millie always was a sucker for adventure; she had to be as an Alchemist.

When Kevin turned and questioned her politely, she couldn’t help but giggle as a coy smile spread across her freckled features. “This is my first time in Ravengro to be completely honest. I’ve always wanted to visit the Professor, but unfortunately have always been so very busy with my own research. As for records of his travels?” She paused to gesture towards the myriad of books which lined the walls of the study. “The vast collection of books he has accumulated tells tale of all his travels and adventures. Had anything specific in mind?”

Catching sight of the key that had clattered to the desk earlier when the councilmen opened the scroll case, Millie plucked it up between index finger and thumb to look it over more closely before continuing to answer Kevin. “In regards to Ravengro, I know a little bit of the town’s history that I can share with ya’. Whatever I don’t know I’m sure, with the right collection of information, I can figure out. I wonder if the town has a library...”

Voice trailing in thought, her attention was forced towards the study door as Kendra reappeared with the object in hand. The chest itself was a relatively small object of oak and iron. As she moved towards the desk, any could tell that she looked nervous about the contents contained within. Seeing that Millie had the key, she was more than happy to let the Alchemist do the honors of opening it up.

Which she did.

The key fit perfectly into the lock, and after giving it a good twist the chest popped open without issue. Within the chest, for any who came forward to look, were several old tomes and one relatively new one. The newest tome sits on the top and bears the phrase “Read me now!” scratched into the leather cover.

“How odd... This looks like one of the Professor’s journals...” Millie spoke aloud, though the statement was more to herself than to the others huddled around her. Reaching a hand forward to pick it up, she’d open the cover to flip through a couple of the pages before nodding to confirm her suspicions. It was indeed one of Petros’ many record keepers of his life, which meant the rest of the tomes in the chest comprise of the books of dangerous lore mentioned in the Professor’s will.

Though Millie was eager to further examine these old and allegedly dangerous tomes in further detail, the demanding phrase on the journal tugged at her curiosity far more. Skimming through it, the majority of the entries were relatively bland, accounting for day-to-day activities in a small town. There were several entries that caught her attention however, what with the fresh red ink that had been used to circle them. After taking a moment to read through a few of them, Millie’s complexion instantly grew pale as her eyes widened. Looking up towards everyone, she gulped slowly.

“You.... You gotta’ hear this...” And with that, she began to read:

“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...”

While reading, Millie had unknowingly lowered herself into the plush chair behind her as she felt her knees grow weak. The last entry, if she wasn’t mistaken, was written on the same day the Professor had died. Lowering the journal, she looked towards Balta and Kevin.

It figured that both Millie and Kevin would try to coax him into staying. Those two with their logic and their silly metaphors. The fighter gave a deep grunt, not granting either a verbal reply when it came to his thoughts of leaving. It was all too true, he'd be a fool to pass up that kind of coin. So it seemed he would be staying, for now.

As Millie read aloud, Balta leaned forward in his seat, his elbows propped up on his knees, fingers lacing as he rested his chin atop of his hands. "So the plot thickens..." He mused, hearing all the great conspiratorial sounding things coming from the secret entries in the journal. "...and do you know who this Whispering Way is?" he asked, looking from one to the next. Certainly a scholar and a priest of the dead must have heard of some sort of creepy necromancer society. "...and what in Callistria's name is the Harrowstone? Some manner of lost city or something? Is it this prison he mentioned?"

"Millie--" He'd speak after the red-haired man spoke, frowning a bit as he figured this may come across as rude, but would help him figure this all out. "--how did he die? Because truth be told, it seems like he found something, and that something wanted him silence. Least it's coming across like that." He didn't comment on the Whispering Ways, as he couldn't recall of such a name at the time. Though with the mention of spirits and the like, he now knew he was going have to make sure whatever it was the man was really looking for, that it didn't fall into the wrong hands.

Why? Because shit like this always seem to fall into the wrong hands, dur!

Continuing to page through the journal that she had read from, Millie appeared far too absorbed into the writings to answer Balta’s question about the Whispering Way on the spot. There was very little that the Alchemist didn’t know in regards to all things Arcane related, especially if it was an interest of the Professor himself, yet this particular subject really seemed to slip her usually sharp and overly-developed mind.

She didn’t like it, not one bit.

“I... Uh.. I don’t know about this Whispering Way...” She answered hesitantly, though the words tasted sour in her mouth. She loathed not being in the knowing, as was a personal quirk of hers that she’s had ever since childhood. Slumping further into the grand chair she sat in, another dramatic sigh was huffed from the girl as she grabbed hold of the chest and began to look through the contents within, just in case there was another clue or hint that could be garnered.

The other tomes comprise the books of dangerous lore mentioned in the Professor's will. Three of these books have notes tucked into them indicating that they should be delivered to one Montagnie Crowl, a professor of antiquities at Lepidstadt University. The fourth tome, labeled Manual of the Order of the Palatine Eye, has a note indicating that 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 those doing so can deliver it there).

Tomes Found:

In response to the questions being asked from Balta and Kevin, it would actually be Lady Kendra who spoke up to answer them. The reading from the journal had done a fair job with triggering the tears once more from the young woman, considering this new information shed a whole new light on the death of her father, yet the brave face she painted on earlier remained regardless.

“I... I can answer that for you.” She began to say while slowly lowering herself into one of the four chairs in front of the mahogany desk. “I don’t know much about the Whispering Way, but what I’ve gathered from my father’s research over the years is that it is a sinister organization of necromancers that have been active in the Inner Sea region for thousands of years.” Closing her eyes and grimacing for a moment, she’d shake her head slowly before taking in a shaky breath.

When Kevin makes his inquiry as to the manner in which Professor Lorrimor met with his demise, Lady Kendra's visage becomes quite lugubrious. For a time, it would even appear that the grieving woman would once more burst into tears. It isn't until a crack of lightening and thunder booming outside with the storm that she finally snaps out of her lament and replies. "My father was found dead outside of the walls of Harrowstone, in an area where the brick and mortar are known to be treacherous from years of prior decay. His... his body was found crushed by the face a great stone gargoyle that had loosened itself over the years and fallen down upon him. It was most horrifying! His... his face and neck were crushed..."

Mood Music:

Experience:

And here Balta had thought himself to be surrounded by far more learned types. But both Millie and Kevin were rather without answer on that one. Granted, it wasn't as though the Knave was bursting with info-logical bits of convenient information, but he could hold others to standards that he himself did not live up to, dammit.

Kendra did manage to break the previous bit of confusion, adding her own thought biscuits to an otherwise lacking knowledge buffet. Tasty, tasty thought biscuits.

Leaning back into his chair once more, the Knave reached up, his hand running through blood-red locks. "Well then, I suppose I could have guessed that much enough on my own. But what was it that your father wanted, or rather, what was it that they wanted from him enough to silence him for it?"

Not giving time enough to answer, Balta spoke again, fixing Kendra with a firm gaze. "And I've decided I'm staying. I may have been brought here by dubious means, but now that I know how very real the danger you face might be, I'm seeing this through to the end."

". . ." Things were starting to add up. Someone had made sure whatever killed the good man they were questing for now, it looked like it was by merely by some sort of bad luck. The odds of him dying in such a way, when merely coming by this many tomes, a mountain full of coins, along with many claiming him to be a follower of the devil himself? He'd leave the others to the talk now, pondering over the ways this could go. From how it seem, the two with him didn't seem to have a reason to play part in this.

Well, that wasn't true fully.


Casting his gaze over to Millie, he was starting to wonder if she had any hand in this? With her history with the man, she must of had some sort of clue to what he had, and that she may even be apart of his will as well! The question was, was that really her motive?

As different ideas went through his head, he'd turn a deaf ear on all else, trying to think of what to do next.

Lady Kendra sighs weepingly and quickly stifles a series of several small, exasperated gasps in sorrow as she listens to Balta speak. Clearly mad at herself for acting so childishly, the grieving woman soon begins to smile warmly at the trio. It was clear now that she had those she could count on, and this greatly uplifted her mood.

“My father was a great man. He was also the type of man that would not want me to be seen shedding such senseless tears at a time in which there are others in need. I thank you, all of you, for choosing to stay with me throughout this month.” Bolstered by the group’s show of support, the young woman quickly stands to her feet and instructs Wendy, who was dutifully nearby, to inform the other servants that they need to make ready several of the manor’s guest rooms.

“Our home is yours.” The lady clearly states, her mood hopeful if not eager to hear the heroes’ acceptance. “You’ll find my father’s library rather expansive; perhaps somewhere within his many books and tomes are the answers you seek about this Whispering Way. There are other places around Ravengro as well where you could research, though I’ll warn you the superstitious folk are rather untrusting. They may take some convincing...” Distracted by Wendy, who had returned to the study with apparent questions for her Mistress, Lady Kendra curtsied towards the three before politely dismissing herself to go tend to some things around the manor.

As soon as Lady Kendra left the study, Millie pushed herself up out of her chair to look between Balta and Kevin. Smiling warmly towards the fighter, who seemed resolved in staying, the journal was collected within her hands as she turned towards Kevin.

“Well, it looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us! Somethin’ is up, and whether this cabal of necromancers is behind it or not, one thing's for certain...” Moving around the desk, the journal was offered towards either of the men, should they wish to take a closer look at the entries. Either way, she’d tap at the final entry with her index finger. “It has already been 17 days since this happened, which means whatever this Whispering Way is up to might be finished, or nearly so. We can only hope that the Professor managed to disrupt their plans long enough for us to finish what he started.”

Looking out the window, the storm that had been brewing had nearly passed, which perhaps meant...

“I think we should collect the tools the Professor spoke of first, or at least investigate the false crypt mentioned in the journal. If the Professor needed them, whatever they are, we will need them too... And the sooner we get our hands on them, the sooner I think we’ll know what we may be dealing with.”

It was one idea of many that she had, and what with the information they were given, it seemed the most pressing. The only problem however was Kevin... Should he truly be a holy man of Pharasma--which she had thus far assumed--the idea of venturing through the Restlands in the dark of the night may not bode well with him. Naturally she wished not to insult any of her new companions with the suggestion, but delay on this matter would only make evil stronger.

Looking expectantly between Balta and Kevin, she'd wait to hear their opinions.

Balta remained in his seat for the time being, his chin held between his thumb and forefinger as he took it all in bit by bit. His eyes shifted, looking from Kendra, to Kevin, to Millie, and back to Kendra, considering carefully their next course of action. Though, after a good long moment of silent consideration, the fighter finally spoke.

"You have my thanks for your hospitality, Lady Kendra. I do hope that we prove to be more of a boon than a burden in our time here." he says, his face still expressing how lost in thought he truly was. "But... I am curious, what manner of security do you have in place? Guards? Wards? Patrols? Should there be a group of necromancers with their sights set upon us, I'd like to at least think that we'd have some manner of eyes on the manor's perimeter."

Giving Kendra time to speak, he eventually turned to Millie. Mismatched eyes fell upon the young alchemist, taking in her cheery yet determined expression. "Agreed, I think that the acquisition of such tools should be our first move. Once equipped, we should work on familiarizing ourselves with the town. Better to know our surroundings than wander around blindly." he said, finally rising from his seat. The fighter drew closer to the window, staring out into the city's expanse. "But, I also want to know as much about this necromancer club as possible, as well as this Harrowstone place. So, it seems we've a great deal of projects to keep us occupied..." A glance over his shoulder, his eyes returned to the young alchemist. "You've always been one to have your nose in a book. Perhaps research ought to be your focus. Once we're started, of course." He turned, looking over the cleric. "And I'm afraid I do not know your strengths, Kevin, but you've the look of a soldier about you. You and I could attend to keeping the manor safe, unless you feel you could do other things? Perhaps your comrades at the local church might be able to offer us some insight?"

Lady Kendra smiled sincerely--and perhaps a tad bit fondly--towards Balta as he spoke. “Oh no, it is an honor to have you here. Were it not for the three of you, why... I just don’t know what I’d do in these next coming weeks."

Pausing with a curious expression, she listened to Balta's question before answering. “There has never been a need for security or guards at the Lorrimor manor.” A look of worry does marr her complexion at the idea of possible danger for a moment, yet it is quickly passed off with a curt shake of her head. “Ravengro itself has never been a crime-ridden town, namely due to the presence of prison. Despite the dearth of criminal activity, Sheriff Benjan Caeller has kept a tight lid on things, and has even employed several deputies to ensure this if I do recall correctly.”

Unless there were any other questions, she would excuse herself.

As Balta question on what he could do, a nod would greet him in return as he explains himself. "I can send them a letter in a bit. For now I think I'll take up the offer to guard this place, and check on the graveyard tonight. I rather make sure they don't bother to good man, while he is resting at long last." Kevin tells him, glancing over at Millie as he bites his lower lip for a bit.

What to make of her? The man he just spoken to might be apart of this as well, though it seemed unlike him. He too had question the amount he was given, even to the point they had to prod at him to stay and get the coins they were going to be given. Stroke of luck pretty much.

As Kendra made mention of the Sheriff, he'd remember that name for later, as he had a feeling he'll be having a talk with him in the coming days he'd be spending here with the others.

"In the end though, I'll follow what leads you two think is best. Millie seems to have a better handle on what we should be looking into, and you know her better then I do I'm guessing. So you two can play hosts for whatever we're going to do, for now."

Millie found herself agreeing with Balta. What with their plans on staying within Ravengro for the next month, it would do them good to start getting themselves better educated on the local history of the city, or more specifically, Harrowstone, which was a growing key point of interest for them. It wouldn’t hurt to brush up on her knowledge about the prison at least, and with an entire library at her disposal, she knew it would only be a matter of time until she knew all about the Whispering Way and Harrowstone combined.

As Kevin spoke up, the gears in Millie’s head began to churn. If the Cleric was indeed planning on paying a visit to the dear old Professor’s grave anyways, then what better time to investigate this false crypt than tonight?

“Perhaps the three of us should set out for the Restlands tonight, then..” Millie began, her golden hues shifting between Balta and Kevin as she spoke in order to get a good reading off of them. “We could ensure the Professor’s grave is safe and sound, and while cloaked in the dark of night, scope out the false crypt mentioned in the Professor’s journal.” That, and she’d feel better knowing that Kevin wasn’t going to be venturing within the Cemetery alone, despite his stance on the dead.

Moving towards the door of the study, as if set on her idea, Millie would wait long enough for a response from her companions before she’d otherwise seek out Lady Kendra to inform them of their plan. Wouldn’t want their Hostess worrying about their little late-night adventures; that would be rude, after all.

"Aye, tonight would be best. I'm already restless just sitting here. Let us get to the crypt right away. That way, tomorrow we can familiarize ourselves with whatever we find along with learn more about these necromantic goofballs and their whispers." Striding toward the door, the fighter scooped up his greatsword and swung it over his shoulder. Securing the fastenings took only a moment, and in that time he made his way out of the room.

Not waiting for much of a response, given it was 2 against 3 already, he'd wait by one of the manor's side entryways. No sense in letting people see you come and go from the front door. Shady, shady dealings they were going about.

Sighing a bit as it seem he wasn't going alone, he'd follow the rest of them out the door. It felt odd, as he was used to being alone at night, more so in a grave yard. However. . .it. . .was nice. He was getting out a bit, and now on a bit of a ride with the other two to find out what was really going on around here now. Either way, he didn't mind, as it meant it would be all the more easier to get this done and over with.

Maybe they could solve this? The rest of the month after solving it could be used as some time to himself. Maybe even find a girl! That would be nice, as he had yet to even try find another woman since joining the cause.

He too would wait for Millie to explain their plan to their host, as he went outside along with Balta to wait.

Kevin and Balta wouldn’t be waiting too long before Millie finally reunited with them. Of course, she had anticipated the two to be leaving through the front door, which after discovering that wasn’t the case, she’d round the corner of the manor to rediscover the pair. Waving a hand to gain their attention, she waited for them to draw closer before drawing their attention to a rolled up piece of parchment she had in hand. Unrolling it, they’d see that it appeared to be a crude map of Ravengro.

“Kendra was kind enough to not only give us her blessing and well wishes but this map as well! She said to follow this road all the way through town, and that the Restlands are due North of Ravengro.” Trailing her finger along said road on the map, Millie lifted her gaze to look between the two before adjusting the heavy backpack on her shoulders. Within, the sound of glass vials clinking against one another could be heard, along with a subtle sloshing of liquid that was likely contained within. It was apparent that the young Alchemist was likewise prepared for whatever they may encounter on their mid-night venture.

Without much delay, the three set out along the wet and puddle filled road towards the Restlands. The rain had all but stopped, making their trek far less wet, yet an ominous fog had began to creep throughout the land that certainly didn’t make the scene around them any more pleasant. More than once the wind’s chilling touch and moan would cause them to look over their shoulders wearily, and the darkness of a clouded night was enough to make one’s imagination run wild. Yet beyond the dreary atmosphere, their trip through town to the cemetery’s gates was safe enough.

The false crypt mentioned in the professor’s journal is located in the northeast corner of the Restlands, near the junction of the paths known as the Eversleep and the Black Path. Standing just inside the dark and twisted gates, the sight of the graveyard at night wasn’t much a welcoming one. Unlike their earlier visit when the sun was up, the land was painted with shadows and gloom that would make any of sound mind think twice about venturing within.

Squinting her eyes in attempts to see through the darkness better, Millie eventually pointed out the path that they needed to take. Rolling up the map and storing it in one of the many pockets of her pack, the red-head put on a brave face before slowly heading in said direction. As long as the two were at her sides, that is. Though typically fearless, even this place gave Millie the heebee jeebees.

Map of the Restlands: