AA's Carrion Crown: The Haunting of Harrowstone

[Leviathan]

Briar frowns, and it only deepens into something approaching a scowl as the gnome listens to the will being read. She sits with uncharacteristic quietness, until Councilor Hearthmount has finished. "Counterpoint to speculation as to danger of situation: if deadly, fail to see why Professor Lorrimor would not draw up document more explicit in detailing the nature of said threat." She pauses. "Perhaps at time of writing, uncertainty still existed in Professor Lorrimor's mind. Are thus ourselves here as a form on insurance."

"Mystery," the gnome concludes. "Would have liked to perform autopsy on Professor's body prior to burial," she mutters clinically. "Doing so now has... problematic entailments for mental health of Miss Kendra." The gnome scowls, then brightens almost instantly. "Would like to examine books, however! Dizzying prospect to appraise works that Professor Lorrimor thought to be of exceptionally evil nature. Erm, also, possibly of relevance to circumstances of death..." She mutters further: "Also, less dissection of beloved individual involved in latter course of action..."

[ApatheticAbacus]

Hearthmount looks back at Eliazar, then down at the key. "I would presume as much," he states. Then he looks around, somewhat uneasy. "I will take my leave, Miss Lorrimor. I bid you all a good evening." Kendra gives him a little nod, and the two head out to the hallway.

Kendra returns a minute later, paling at the direction the conversation has taken. "That's the key to father's chest," she confirms. "It's over there, in the corner," she says, pointing to a dark mahogany trunk sitting beside Lorrimor's grand old desk. "I-if you're saying that father was... killed by something, then you'd better have a look." Taking the key in hand, she resolutely unlocks the chest, lifting up its contents – a stack of books – and carrying them to the central table.

Her hand trembles as she lifts the top book from the pile. "This was father's journal," she says, voice shaking. "Look." The front of the leather book has been scratched with the phase "READ ME NOW." She winces visibly, then sets it down.

The next book has a rich purple cover and a strange, foreign symbol imprinted in gold in the center of that. It is locked shut with a golden lock. The next book is pitch black, a relatively slim volume, etching in fine, small writing along the spine with the words "On Verified Madness". The next, thick and yellowed, is entitled "Serving Your Hunger." The last seems to be made from something that looks suspiciously like flayed skin. It's called "The Umbral Leaves."

Knowledge checks

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Make whatever you think might be relevant. You can make other checks too if they make sense.

[Gwynfrid]

"Whatever is in there, your father trusted us to face it, Miss Kendra", Ulric says. "I'm not sure about these other, strange books, but his intention about the journal is clear." He calmly takes the top book and opens it.

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Knowledge(Religion) (1d20+4)[10] is all I can contribute.

[Leviathan]

Briar scurries over to the books as they're set down on the table. She adjusts the spectacles that seem to be perpetually slipping down her nose, then opens each of the tomes in turn, ignoring the journal despite its plea to the contrary. She leafs through the contents of each quickly, humming under her breath, lips pursed in concentration.

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Knowledge (arcana): (1d20+13)[31]
Knowledge (history): (1d20+12)[23]
Knowledge (nature): (1d20+8)[22]
Disable device (for the one that's locked): (1d20+7)[13]

[RocketMan]

Emil frowns as the chest is opened and the books withdrawn. "An intriguing collection, though if any of the villagers saw this that would serve to explain their otherwise incongruous notion that Petros was a necromancer." His hand brushes across the surface of each book in turn. "I mean really, skin?" he asks, shaking his head.

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Knowledge (history): (1d20+11)[16]
Knowledge (arcana): (1d20+9)[11]
Knowledge (the planes): (1d20+9)[22]
Knowledge (local): (1d20+0)[17]** Oops, that knowledge (local) should be at +9, not +0. So the total there should be 26.

[Blisstake]

Rastan double checks the will to verify they were not explicitly forbidden from reading the tomes themselves, then takes a look at the curious tomes that the rest of the group was already going over at a rapid pace.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Knowledge Religion, I guess? (1d20+5)[8]

[ApatheticAbacus]

Briar

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You're not able to open the purple, gold-embossed tome, but you can identify it as a manual of occult rituals and practices of the Esoteric Order of the Palatinate Eye, an old, quasi-secret society of the wealthy and powerful of Ustalav.

Emil

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"On Verified Madness" deals with aberrant entities from the Dark Tapestry , the dark place between the stars.

[Winterfell]

Benedikt's eyes narrow as his gaze falls upon the peculiar purple tome, examining the marking on the cover. "The Order of the Palatine Eye," he murmurs under his breath, quiet but audible. "What was Lorrimor's interest in that, I wonder?"

"Before we rush to examine the tomes," Benedikt says in his deep voice, a trace of bemusement touching his tone as Briar, Emil and Rastan pile around the chest to examine the books. "A suggestion. One of the books bears the inscription 'read me now'. A diabolical trick, perhaps, but just as likely written by Lorrimor for guidance." He reaches into the chest, retrieving the leatherbound book. His eyes survey the group and he smiles, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Shall we?" he asks, flipping open the cover and reading.

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In case it's relevant:

Knowledge local check: (1d20+4)[13]

[Archpaladin Zousha]

"I see no reason why not. Carry on, Benedickt."

Eliazar looks at the other books, wondering if he'd seen them before.

Spoiler: Knowledge (religion) Check

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(1d20+5)[18]

[ApatheticAbacus]

Eliazar

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The Umbral Leaves is the unholy book of Zun-Kuthon. Serving Your Hunger is a similar text, devoted to the goddess Urgathoa.

Music: Lorrimor's Journal

Lorrimor's leather-bound journal opens crisply, revealing the late Professor's neat handwriting, each entry marked meticulously with a date above it. Leafing through its contents, it seems some of the entries in it have been circled in crimson ink...

The Journal

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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.

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. Some force (I know not what, for I did not find it prudent to investigate further, but it would seem that the dead of Harrowstone do not lie quiet) 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.

Fourteen 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.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

"Technically these other two books aren't TOO harmful. They're the sacred texts of Urgathoa's and Zon-Kuthon's faiths. That may explain why some folk here thought Petros was a necromancer. Hard to deny if you see a copy of the goddess of undeath's guide to life and unlife lying around, especially if you didn't understand Petros and his desire to fight evil in all its forms. Understanding the enemy and yourself is the key to winning any battle."

As Benedickt reads the journal, Eliazar's eyes widen. They'd been more right than any could have anticipated. This was terrible news. The Whispering Way, old enemy to the Knights of Ozem...

"And this exemplifies that. Petros went into battle before he was ready, and it killed him. So he DID call us here to finish what he began. And whatever that is lies in Harrowstone. I don't know about you, but I'll spend my month here making sure this town is safe from the Way's taint, and that my friend's death is avenged!"

[RocketMan]

"This one's called On Verified Madness," Emil adds, shrugging. "Not that I'd read it - you'd probably end up mad yourself."

The wizard nods along as Eliazar speaks. "Indubitably," he says, biting his lower lip pensively. "Clearly, Harrowstone is the key to this mystery." He sighs, exhaling woefully. "I do wish Petros would have been clearer. It presents a lovely little cryptic riddle, but really, if the whole town was endangered a whole two weeks ago it stands to reason that it's all the more so now. He might have expedited things by leaving a note elucidating everything." His eyes flash to the chest, as if hoping such a note might suddenly appear. It doesn't.

"Well then, with that option closed to us... This Whispering Way, what are they?"

[Leviathan]

Briar nods emphatically at Benedikt's question about the Palatinate Eye. "Membership within said group possible," she suggests helpfully. "Professor Lorrimor within typical socio-economic range of participants in 'secret society'. Alternatively, could have been simple academic interest. Lack of apparent key for locked tome in question suggestive of borrowed status; perhaps gift."

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Perception for a key or anything: (1d20-2)[15]

The gnome's face twitches as Lorrimor's last diary entries are read out. Fascinating! Veil is lifting! Curious that Professor could take time to annotate, draw attention to articles of interest, but no direct explanation of circumstances... Even brilliant minds irrational on occasion.

Briar thinks hard, her lips pursed as her large eyes zip across the pages before her. Then she practically jumps up off her seat, brandishing before her a peculiar blue vial. Without pausing for thought, she unstoppers it. She tilts her head back and drinks it, her cheeks expanding. She closes her eyes, plugs her nose, and swallows.

Head spinning, Briar babbles. "Apologies. Taste not yet rectified. Methodology of imbibing crude by social norms. Perhaps a pinch of lemon. No! No! Never mind!"

She shakes her head, blinking rapidly. "Matter at hand. Grave concern. In many senses. Joke; ha ha. Whispering Way: name suggests inclination towards melodrama. Harrowstone: prison, apparently. What else?"

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Drinking my cognatogen for +4 int, -2 strength.

Knowledge (arcana): (1d20+15)[35]
Knowledge (history): (1d20+14)[19]

[Gwynfrid]

Ulric reads out loud from the journal, repeating the more complex passages to make sure they are understood.

"This is deeply unsettling. The Whispering Way... Something they were trying to finish... Strange symbols along the foundation, what can that mean? And spirits. Dangerous ones obviously. Could Petros have fallen to a fate caused by spirits? I suppose we will, like him, need to go see Harrowstone with our own eyes... We will need those tools Petros mentions. I suppose we will have to obtain permission from Father Grimburrow?" He looks sideways to Rastan, seeking a comment from the half-orc Pharasmin priest.

[Blisstake]

Rastan nods, "Yes, we would need to speak with him first. We don't want the Church thinking we're grave-robbing. We consider that a serious offense. Although, I'm not sure what he means by 'false crypt.' Maybe it's a dummy-crypt to fool necromancers and the like? A bit... odd, but it's worth looking into."

[Winterfell]

Benedikt looks deeply troubled as he pours over the diary in silence. He shakes his head when he finishes, jaw clenched. "This is deeply disturbing news," he says with a scowl. "The Whispering Way is on the move, here in Ravengro, and we do not know why. To which the Professor adds ghost stories and talk of spirits in Harrowstone." The man sounds frustrated, and he nods sharply in response to Emil. "Yes, would he have been clearer in his intentions for us... Perhaps he did not know exactly what he faced or what the Way intended?"

"I do not believe that Lorrimor was a member of the Order of the Palatine Eye," Benedikt says definitively. "More likely is that he was researching the order, or else was loaned this tome by a member. Does the book have any significance to this investigation, I wonder?"

"It does seem that our path takes us once again to the graveyard," Benedikt agrees with Ulric and Rastan. "No priest would be so foolish as to deny us access."

[Archpaladin Zousha]

"Well then, with that option closed to us... This Whispering Way, what are they?"

"They are the oldest enemy of the Knights of Ozem, lad. The oldest enemy of Ustalav itself. A vile cult of necromancers and madmen that seek to make the whole world dead. Their greatest champion was the Whispering Tyrant, the only mortal to ever slay a god, Blessed Iomedae's own patron, Arazni, when she herself was a mortal in our ranks. Iomedae's greatest mortal victories were in the Shining Crusade against the Whispering Way and their Tyrant, who had taken over the entirety of Ustalav. But even Iomedae could not kill him. So they caged him, deep within his own fortress, which the Knights of Ozem still keep vigil over, watching and waiting in case the Tyrant's bonds ever slacken. The scars of his reign have made Ustalav into the dark and haunted land it is now, and the Whispering Way did not fall with their leader. No, they haunt Ustalav still, and more than anything they long to find a way to release their lich-lord from Gallowspire. Make no mistake, Emil, if they're involved, things are bad. Worse than even I could fear."

His expression is deeply disturbed as he sips his tea.

"I doubt Father Grimburrow will simply hand these things over to us while we are still strangers to the town. Ustalav doesn't work that way. If you're not from around here, you're as much a threat as whatever local haunts are about. You heard that Gibbs fellow at the Restlands. Ravengro doesn't trust us, and telling them what's going on while that's the case will either scare them more, or they'll refuse to believe us. And besides, we have another problem..."

He looks about to make sure no one apart from Kendra and the others are listening.

Spoiler: Perception Check

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(1d20+5)[20]

[ApatheticAbacus]

Kendra remains quiet, her hands clasped in her lap, her face pale, her eyes flitting between speakers in the exchange she's witnessing. She pipes up after Eliazar finishes speaking, however. "You don't know that," she says, perhaps more indignation in her voice than she intends. "Just because Gibbs didn't like father, doesn't mean they're all bad people! Father Grimburrow's a good man, a kind man, and he's wise! If you go to him, he might listen!" She takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout... I just think you can't assume we're all bad just because of how 'Ustalav works.'"

Briar

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You notice a small note has been left tied to the purple tome which you inspect. It reads: "To be delivered to Embreth Daramid." It follows this with an address in Lepidstadt.

As for the Whispering Way, you know basically everything.

Specifically, you recall from an ancient alchemical treatise that chief among the Whispering Way's goals are creating and discovering the mysterious formulae for lich transformations, following in the footsteps of their master, and even trying to release him. The symbol of the Way is a gagged skull, and indeed, those who oppose them are often murdered, their mouths mutilated to prevent speak with dead.

On Harrowstone, you know that the prison was built in 4594, with Ravengro founded at the same time to support the prison. It, along with most of its guards and all of its prisoners, was destroyed in a massive fire.

Eliazar

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You don't detect any eavesdroppers.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

"Kendra, I don't mean that. I know that the people of Ustalav can be good, hardworking and honest. I was born in Ustalav. But I know that just as there are many in Ustalav that are good, there are also many that aren't, and I've lived long enough to see both in stark detail. Which leads into the problem I mentioned. Ulric is already aware of this, but there is more to me than it seems. I know I don't look it, but I am old. Old enough to remember a time when Aroden was alive and our northern borders weren't demon-haunted. This past Armasse was also my one-hundred-and-thirty-ninth birthday."

[Blisstake]

"Interesting. I assume there is no unconscionable reason for that, is there Mister Graydon?" Rastan sets his tea down, and looks over the man that he previously assumed was human. "No... I would think not if you are indeed a Knight of Ozem. Still, I am curious."

[Archpaladin Zousha]

"Nothing unconscionable on my part, Brother Rastan. I can't speak for my true father, though. Vampires are unconscionable by nature. I am a svetocher. A dhampir. By all rights I should not have been born, dead in my mother's dying womb. It was only through the grace of the gods that I survived. My mother did not, and while Lord Graydon had every right to kill me there, he didn't. He raised me to be an honorable Ustalav like the rest of us. I will always be grateful to him for that. But even more grateful for Petros. He showed me that I could be better than my cursed blood, that I could make Golarion a better place instead of hiding in the shadows and watching it rot around me. It was at his urging that I traveled to Lastwall and worked to join the Knights. I was already over a century old when we met. My point in this is that I am concerned Father Grimburrow may not be as...understanding of my condition as you've graciously been just now."

[Leviathan]

Briar gives Eliazar a long, avaricious look-over. She looks like she'd like to dissect him, slightly more than Professor Lorrimor's corpse.

"Vampiric past beside the point," she chides, half to herself, half to the others. "Interesting but of negligible importance to pressing issue at hand."

"On said matter at hand, would like to explicate nature of Whispering Way cult," she intones in a lecturing voice. "Central pillar of quasi-religious philosophy revolves around undeath-as-immortality. Seeming disregard for paradoxical nature of ever-living through death... Ultimate mission is the resurrection (or re-animation or recreation, to use more precise terminology) of Whispering Tyrant. However, Ravengro far too small for relationship to that task," she mutters. "Likely that goal here more minimal."

"Erm, also, Whispering Way known for prevention of magical interrogation of corpses through disfigurement of said corpses, specifically oral region. Would speculate therefore that Professor Lorrimor's apparent cause of death – crushing – in fact deliberate destruction caused after murder by Whispering Way."

[Archpaladin Zousha]

"...that's just what I explained!" Eliazar said, slightly exasperated that Briar ignored him like that.

[Leviathan]

Briar shrugs. "Aware of prior statements, but found lack of rigour in religious focus to presentation of facts. Also, personal statements contained additional hypotheses beyond your own."

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Eh, the real answer is I got a 35 on the knowledge check and it seemed a shame to waste that. Though apparently it's common knowledge anyhow.

[ApatheticAbacus]

By this time, the sun has set, the night growing long and dark through the windows of the Lorrimor house. The candles that light the room have burned down to stumps, and the hearth is lit by embers. Kendra sighs. "I'm sorry," she says, "this has been so much to take in. I'm going to try and sleep. There are guest rooms on the second floor. Please, make yourselves at home. Whatever this Whispering Way is doing can surely wait until morning."

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If you're ready to move things along, you can have your character go to bed.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

"Sleep well, Kendra."

Eliazar pours himself some more tea and stands up, browsing Professor Lorrimor's collection of books as the others go off to bed. In truth, he's as tired as the rest of them, but he just can't bring himself to sleep. He never could. He figured it was for the best, though. If a mob gathered outside Kendra's house, he'd be the first to know. He decides, against his better judgment, to thumb through the texts they are delivering, at least the three that aren't locked. Know your enemy, and yourself and you need not fear the outcome of a thousand battles. And now that he knew who his enemy was, he needed to know as much as possible. It was clear that even though his order dedicated themselves to combating the Whispering Way, there were things even HE hadn't known. Briar had proven that much, if in a rather brusque and clinical way. While reading, he finally manages to doze off, and in the morning the others find him asleep in the chair, On Verified Madness lying on the floor where it had fallen from his lap.

[RocketMan]

Emil nods to Kendra as she heads off to bed. His mind, however, is racing.

"So, and I just want to be clear here, you're suggesting that Petros was murdered by a cult dedicated to the resurrection of a long-dead lich?" he asks. "What would a group of apocalypse-seeking madmen want in Ravengro?" I assume," the young man continues, pursing his lips in thought, "that it must have to do with Harrowstone. The old prison is, after all, the single standout in a town that is otherwise about as far from scintillating as possible."

"Also, you're a vampire, Eliazar?" he repeats, sounding vaguely disbelieving. "Or a dhampir," he adds, airily gliding over the distinction. "I hadn't heart that paladins devoted to guarding the world against the perils of the reawakened dead we in the habit of adopting the wayward children of the night into their ranks."

[Archpaladin Zousha]

"I'm a bit of an exception. Lucky me. And the Knights probably felt my affinity for the dead would lend me an edge against our enemies."

[Gwynfrid]

Ulric bows to Kendra as she departs, before he turns his interest back to the discussion.

"Indeed, strangers can often find themselves less than welcome in many villages of Ustalav", the servant of Sarenrae interjects, in a soft, calm voice. "I was born and lived there for most of my life and this isn't unknown to me... Yourself, Brother Rastan, might find yourself subject to that on account of your origins, even as you wear the signs of a holy man. And your own reaction to a dhampir, Emil, kind of proves the point."

"Yes, this may have been a surprise to many in Lastwall, but the knights of Ozem chose to take a dhampir as one of their own. I, for one, am not inclined to question their wisdom." His matter-of-fact tone, while not sharp, nevertheless indicates the grizzled warrior isn't interested in debating the issue.

"That said, a reasonable request for help from Father Grimburrow should be successful, or so I would hope."

[Blisstake]

"I was born and lived there for most of my life and this isn't unknown to me... Yourself, Brother Rastan, might find yourself subject to that on account of your origins, even as you wear the signs of a holy man."

"I wouldn't know. I don't get out much," Rastan explains simply. "And yet, I would still suggest speaking to Father Grimburrow. He seems reasonable to me, and it is not my place to go crypt hunting without permission from my order."