The Carrion Crown Part 4

Session 4: The Professor Returns (17^th October 2012)

The Pathfinders

Kazimir – Elf Fighter
Moebius – Elf Conjurer
Nicolai Alamrys – Human Rogue
Zef – Human Ranger

From the Diary of Nicolai Alamrys (Day 6 – mid-morning)

The stirges and centipedes have left me really wobbly on my legs. I still needed to rest up, so much of the next few days I spent resting up whilst the others work on this mystery. As I have previously noted in my diary, our meals with Kendra are becoming increasingly bland. I am sure she doesn’t want us around, but I am unsure as to why when her father put her into our care for at least the next month.

Anyway, on with our tale... The rest of the party visited Father Grimburrow to find out what those vials contain. He mentioned they were something called Haunt Siphons; receptacles for spirits that can be used for combating the undead. When the vial breaks, the spirit contained within will attack the closest being to it upon its release.

Kazimir paid a visit on Zokar to see if he could get something from the rumour I told him about from my last visit there. He was invited out back to watch the preparation of his meal, but nothing untoward could be found out. He proceeded to eat his fill. Meanwhile, Moebius had visited the Unfurled Scroll and found out some more useful information…

1. Harrowstone Prison was built in 4594
2. Ravengrow was founded at the same time as the prison, in order to supply it
3. The fire killed all the prisoners, many guards and the warden’s wife
4. A statue was built a month or two later, honouring the dead
5. The prisoners had revolted and taken control of the lower dungeon. The warden and 23 guards prevented them from escaping
6. Five of the prisoners in particular we re notorious for some reason
7. The warden, prisoners and guards were all trapped inside when the fire broke out

‘E’ for…? (Later that evening)

Whilst we were preparing for bed, we got a slow knock at the door. Sheriff Benjen was at the door and he told us that it had happened again. We accompanied him to the scene of the crime but noticed this time that the letter daubed on the statue was an ‘E’. We found no other clues other than the usual footprints and that the blood used was found to be animal blood (but which species we do not know). I put my thoughts into motion on these meagre clues but the only connection I could come up with was that ‘V’ and ‘E’ were the first two letters of the warden’s wife’s name: Vesorinna Hawken. I am not sure if that helped anyone but it made sense to me when the children’s rhyme was added into the mix.

The Professor Returns (Around Midnight)

We returned to Kendra’s and I headed off to bed due to the lateness of the hour and the need to still recover from the centipede and stirge bites. Around midnight, there came another slow knock at the door. Luckily Kazimir and Moebius were still up so they prepared to open the door, not knowing what to expect this time. Upon opening the door they came face-to-face with Professor Lorrimor! The zombie called for Kendra and struck out at Kazimir. The fighter made no hesitation in cleaving the body in twain. The fighter picked up the again dead pieces of the professor and deposited them within a rolled up carpet from the hallway. Moebius used a few of his little cantrips to clean up the mess, whilst Kazimir took the body and hid it in the wood pile for further investigation the next morning.

Another Encounter with Gibbs (Day 7)

We awoke early to yet another knock on the door. The incessant rapping annoyed us all, and upon seeing Gibbs’ face Zef had to be held back (Gibbs, if I recall was the townsman who assaulted Zef when we were carrying the professor’s coffin to his grave). Anyway, Gibbs ranted on that the professor had risen and it was our entire fault for not allowing them to bury him outside of town. Zef had had enough and thumped him; we did not stop him this time. Gibbs left rather promptly. It was at this point that the missing hall carpet caused Kendra to question our movements the night before. Some quick thinking bought us the cover story that it was all Kazimir’s fault for drinking too much. We promised to clean the carpet and return it to its rightful place.

This encounter with Gibbs spurred us into swift action. We loaded the professor’s body onto Moebius’s mule (which didn’t like it that much until Zef calmed it down with some well-chosen words and platitudes) and took it up to Father Grimburrow. He took the body off our hands and proceeded to rebury it in the same style as the farmer from the day before.

Fire at the Town Hall (Evening)

Due to all of this commotion we had forgotten about the meeting at the Town Hall that evening until reminded by the cleric. As there was a lot that needed investigating we decided to split up. The rest of my companions decided to head to the meeting to see what it was all about, whilst I cried off ‘sick’ and went down to the statue to stake out the area in case the perpetrator of the nightly daubing came back. I took Kazimir’s horn with me for an alarm in case I got into difficulties.

As the evening wore on, I got slowly more bored and cold. After an hour or so, I spotted three flaming objects leave the prison area and head towards the Town Hall. At around the same time, I heard a commotion going on up there. Not sure if that was just the general goings on from a town meeting I decided not to investigate that but the appearance of those flaming skulls made my mind up. I winded the horn just as the shouts from the hall turned to screams. I decided to leave my place of observation and sprinted up to the Town Hall. I got there just as the last of the fire was being extinguished. Moebius told me that the three flaming skulls came crashing through the windows a short time after all the torches in the building suddenly flared up. No cause was found but the townsfolk treated us like heroes and called for us to be the investigators into the mysteries surrounding the common undead appearances, even offering to pay us a reward! All were happy enough to collect us all together and drive us into the Laughing Demon to ply us with more drink than we could handle.

The Investigation Begins Proper (Day 8)

After another thin breakfast I decided enough was enough and popped out to the baker’s to buy us a proper meal. Moebius had plenty of reading to do, so the three of us (Zef, Kazimir and I) headed on up to the prison under the true guise of investigators. The walls were actually in a worse state of repair than I recalled from my last visit. The towers were all empty except for the one containing the swarm of rats which we decided to leave well alone.

The manor house at the centre of the grounds was in an even worse state of repair. One of the walls collapsed when Kazimir poked it with his glaive, and the first floor balconies looked as if they would do the same if we tried to climb onto them. Anyway, we managed to find some inscriptions around the base of the wall that repeatedly spelled out ‘LYVAR HAWKRAN’ – presumably the name of the warden. Around the back of the building we could only find the remains of the prison cess pit, which we decided not to investigate further. Poking our heads inside the open main doors showed us a large chamber but nothing in there of any note that we could see through the gloom.

We decided to head back to town, but wanted to take another look at the lake on the way. Kazimir decided my small stone probably wouldn’t have had any effect, so proceeded to lob in a fairly hefty boulder. Nothing happened to begin with, so we started to walk away. A few seconds later, the water started to bubble up and three skeletons started to emerge from the depths of the pool.

 

This scared me so much I was physically ill and I got out of there quickly, leaving my companions to their fate.

The Carrion Crown - Part 3

Session 3: Stirges and Zombies (10^th October 2012)

The Pathfinders

Dukker Jamas – Human Cleric (Player has become DM)
Kazimir – Elf Fighter (Not present)
Moebius – Elf Conjurer
Nicolai Alamrys – Human Rogue
Zef – Human Ranger

From the Diary of Nicolai Alamrys (Day 4 – continued)

I am still feeling rather poorly as a result of the bite from that centipede. I think it will still take a few days to get all of the poison from my system. Dukker has been working tirelessly to help both myself and Zef to recover from our ordeal.

This evening was quiet as Zef and I rested up, which meant that Moebius was able to investigate the mystery further. He was not able to find out too much more, but he did deduce that the locals do not like speaking of the events of 4661; the burning down of the prison.

Stirge Attack (Day 5)

For once, the day dawned bright and sunny. Sometime during the very early hours, Dukker had decided to leave us – apparently he had been called back to his home temple for some urgent reason. After taking a leisurely breakfast (gruel again), Zef, Moebius and I left Kazimir in charge of Kendra and headed into town. As we were passing the gazebo in the centre of town, we heard a folk band playing a few tunes. We decided to stop and have a listen, as well as get a feel for what the folk around here did for entertainment.

Out of the corner of his eye, Moebius spotted a couple of stirges flapping towards us rapidly. He yelled a warning, but they got to us so quickly that one was able to attach itself to my shoulder before I could react. The only thing I could do was throw myself to the ground with the parasite between me and the solid earth. Everything then happened quickly. Whilst I struggled with the stirge attached to my shoulder, Zef had rapidly approached me and grabbed my dagger from my belt. Moebius yelled at me to close my eyes, but the next thing I knew I was waking up with a splitting headache, no vision, and feeling quite nauseous. Apparently, I had trapped the stirge beneath me, but not stopped it from sucking my blood. Zef tried to stab it with my knife before Moebius cast some bright light spell that dazed everything within a few feet of me – luckily this included the two stirges which were summarily dispatched. Unfortunately, being caught in the spell led to me feeling like the morning after the night before.

I actually awoke in the Laughing Demon being plied with drink and being hugged and back slapped by the locals for saving them from the flying horrors. Whilst this was going on, I managed to grab a morsel of information about the proprietor, Zokar, and his food. According to my now unknown source, anyone who is taken out back and watches him prepare his Zombie Chowder runs out of town screaming never to be seen again. When asked if I wanted anything to eat, I politely declined.

After all of our nerves were sufficiently steeled by alcohol and praise, we decided to investigate the prison on the hill. Zef, Moebius and I headed on up the path to the ruins sat atop the mound. The walls surrounding the prison seemed to be in reasonable shape but are broken down in places and covered in ivy, and the path approaching it was overgrown and looked like it had not been regularly used in a long time. We entered the grounds through a hole in the walls. Looking across the courtyard we could see that the gates swinging in the breeze were made of wood and metal. On both sides of the gates there are two strong towers, and there are a few other towers along the walls. The one on the western wall appeared to be full of rats; we’ll avoid that for now.

We took a look at the lake that seems to have formed at one end of the enclosure. It is dark and dreary without any wildlife present around it. From a distance I lobbed a stone into the water, but it sank without more than a less than unusual plonk and splash. No birds flew from the reeds which makes me think something may be keeping them away. For now, I did not wish to investigate further. We decided that we had seen enough and returned to town.

Zombie attack

Zef retired to the more quiet of the two pubs we knew, whilst Moebius and I went to Zokar’s place for a bite to eat and a few beers. We chatted to the locals, who seem to becoming more accustomed to us being around, and generally passed the rest of the afternoon and evening there. I only popped out for a brief breath of fresh air, but wound up in the local trading establishment. I didn’t get much information out of the proprietor or his wife but they did ask me to make an offer on a suit of masterwork plate mail whilst I purchased some adventuring kit. I mentioned that I didn’t know much about armour, but a friend of mine might be interested in just such an item.

When I returned, Moebius had got side tracked into talking about music with one of the musicians from the gazebo earlier today. He did, however, manage to find out that if we tried to go to the prison, the ghost of the warden’s wife will drive us away.

We left at a reasonable time and made our way back to Kendra’s house. On our way home, we noticed a person being sick down a side alley. Moebius and I went to investigate and see if the chap was alright, but the overpowering stench of the grave assaulted our nostrils. We tried to back up and get away from the now obvious zombie but it moved very quickly. It slammed me against the wall a couple of times, my head striking the wall on both occasions, and I woke up back at the pub again.

Again, Moebius had saved my life with magic. This time he had summoned a great mastiff to deal with the walking corpse. The villagers, again, were thanking us for saving them from the horrors assaulting this town and plied us with more food, drink and hearty congratulations. I found out that the local cleric had healed me – I was slipping towards death when I was found – and my companions and I were required to attend church the next day as we were now considered part of the congregation of Pharasma. We were also able to find out that the zombie was a local farmer who was buried three months ago.

The Crypt (Day 6)

As a party, we attended the short service in the morning. Afterwards, we approached Father Grimburrow to ask him about the stirges and zombie. He informed us that they get a ‘riser’ a couple of times a year, but the one last night had been the first one in a while. He was a little surprised when we told him how fast it moved. I think our activities over the last few hours had convinced the good Father that the town needed somebody to investigate the goings-on in the town, so he gave us his blessing to go to the crypt to recover the items that Professor Lorrimor had mentioned in his missives. We made our excuses and left, but on our way out of the graveyard we noticed that the acolytes were reburying the farmer’s corpse in a few more pieces than we left him, a few of the bits were held back to be buried elsewhere.

We were accompanied to the crypt by an acolyte; presumably to make sure we were good for our word and didn’t desecrate it. We were let in by one of the acolytes already in attendance, and were led down the first flight of steps by torchlight. I recovered my mirror and crossbow and a little later Zef recovered his bow. Upon entering the rear corridor, we again heard the snickering of the centipede, but Zef and Moebius made short work of it this time, now that it could be seen in the torchlight. Zef did pick up a nasty bite in the process, but not bad enough to stop us from searching the lower crypt and the sarcophagus upon the dais. We found many trinkets within brown Hessian sacks. I didn’t reckon much on the stuff in there as it only seemed to comprise a load of arrows, a Ouija Board (that Moebius later told us was magical), a manual of some sort, a few healing potions, a scroll, and some vials within a box – apparently they contain the spirits of something or other and are useful for fighting the undead.

Painting has resumed

It has been a long time, but I finally picked up the brushes after a hefty hiatus. I manged to complete a couple of figures, but they still need basing, so it may be another week before they get put up on the blog. The kids however finished off a few that were about 90% done the last time they were touched.

Alex completed the GW LotR Gil-Galad mini. He only had to add a couple of colours and then he was done. He also managed to complete 5 Elf spearmen and 3 Elf archers for his HotT army. I have based them for him, but he needs to do the sanding and flocking himself. Hopefully he will get them finished by next week and start on som emore that are languishing on his paint station.

Cerys just had to have hers sprayed with varnish, but she wanted to paint the Queen's base red first. These have been displayed on here previously but were not 100% completed. Her sister, Amelia, also started on her figures (the same ones incidentally) an dgot about half way there with them. Hopefully she can do a little more for next week.

I managed to complete the painting of an old Citadel Night Goblin Wolf Rider and an early Space Marine. They just need basing for completion. I have also 90% finished another half-dozen or so Space Marines and undercoated some old 25mm fantasy and sci-fi stuff . I also managed to put quite a bit of tincture onto 20 or so Norman knights from a variety of manufacturers. Hopefully some of these will be completed by next week, so the blog can tick over a little more and my painted tally look a little more presentable.

Gaming wise I have done very well this year. I have made several visits to Duncan's for some very exciting and fun games of SoBH, and joined the RP Haven in Lewisham for some RPG action. I have played in an Old Skool AD&D campaign that took me through most of the summer and I am now enjoying playing Pathfinder. This is a new game for me, even though I have read the D&D 3.0 rulebooks which gave me some familiarity with the Paizo version. This week I have been slowly reading through the core rulebook to get myself familiar with some of the basic rules of the game. I need to get a feel for the Paizo gameworld, so that may require a bit of web surfing later this week.

Next up should be this week's game session, and hopefully some more brushwork for display next Sunday.

The Carrion Crown Part 2

Session 2: The Crypt (3^rd October 2012)

The Pathfinders

Dukker Jamas – Human Cleric
Kazimir - Fighter
Moebius – Elf Conjurer
Nicolai Alamrys – Human Rogue
Zef – Human Ranger

From the Diary of Nicolai Alamrys

It seems, what with all the grief and confusion brought about by the death of our beloved friend Professor Lorimar, I may have got some details of the last few days a little muddled. The settlement we are staying in is called Ravenrow or some such thing, and Harrowstone is the name of the prison sat atop the hill just outside the township.

The Diary of Professor Lorimar (Day 2 – continued)

The rain was still beating down outside the window, so we decided that we would all sit tight and talk about the day’s findings from the professor’s diary/notebook. The diary entries, as stated in my previous entry, were a bit confusing, but the details we could ascertain by piecing together the written notes was that the Whispering Way was known of about ten years ago by the professor. He had investigated the cult and had started to come to some conclusions but, alas, was unable to complete his investigations. He did, however, leave us plenty of clues as to what we could do to carry on his work. The entry from 18 days ago suggested that he went up to Harrowstone, the prison on the hill that was burnt down several years ago, but he had to leave pretty sharply as he encountered strange ghostly apparitions whilst there. His final entry, the one from 17 days ago, only mentioned that there were tools, of which the current clergy were unaware, located within the graveyard, inside a certain crypt at the crossroads of the two main cemetery thoroughfares (Eversleep and Blackpath), that could be used to fight the undead.

Seeing this as a perfect opportunity for adventure, and as it was now getting late (around 9:30 in the evening) Zef and I decided to investigate whilst the others attempted to figure out what was happening. Moebius and Dukker locked themselves in conversation over the professor’s tomes that were in his lock box, and Kazimir mooned around Kendra, pledging his sword and so forth, possibly in the hope of gaining the lady’s favour?

The Crypt

So, whilst the rest of the party were otherwise engaged, Zef and I popped out in the hope of at least finding this crypt. It was still raining so visibility was poor, and as a result we bumped into one of the sheriff’s underlings. After a bit of sweet talking that seemed to leave the deputy in a state of confusion, we promised we would be back within the hour. He was OK with this, and he let us continue with our journey to the graveyard. We quickly hopped over the greasy wall and alighted in the thick mud of the cemetery. Quickly gathering our bearings we made our way to the meeting of the paths and set off towards the crypt in the north-west corner.

At the allotted point, we managed to find four mausoleums; three were undoubtedly family plots, but the fourth one was kind of weird, with stone gargoyles positioned to loom over any who approached. This did not put us off, so we took a quick look at the lock on the main stone door. The lock literally fell off the door when I touched it, and upon further investigation I realised that the clasp had been eaten through by acid and then hastily clicked together to give the appearance of a fixed security device.

Zef pushed the door open, and we stepped into the black interior, nearly losing our footing at the head of a flight of stairs leading down into the abyss. I lit a couple of small candles I had about my person and set one of them at the top of the stairs with my steel mirror behind it to light as much of the stairway as possible. We could see down about twenty feet before the gloom cut off our vision.

Zef knocked an arrow to his bow and I put a bolt into my crossbow before we continued down the stairs, Zef in front with me behind carrying the candle. At the bottom of the flight of stone steps we stepped onto a hard packed earthen floor. Holding the candle up and walking around a little we realised we were inside a large chamber (about thirty by forty feet at a guess). Upon the floor was incised a large mystical diagram and to each side of it were a pair of stone gargoyles that made us jump out of our skins when the dim light from our candle revealed them in the gloom. Zef checked out the statue to the right of us but it looked and felt just like a plain stone carving. Upon reaching the centre of the room, we realised that there were two identical stone doors in the opposite wall.

We made our way over to the one nearest to Zef and he tried the handle. With a grind of stone-upon-stone and a large squeal of metal hinges unused in a long time, the door opened. Thrusting my head through the doorway, I noticed that it seemed to lead to a corridor that linked the two stone doors of our room, with a stairwell in the centre of the opposite wall. Zef was starting to get a little wary now, but I waved him away and said there couldn’t be anything to worry about in a dark and gloomy place such as this.

We cautiously stepped beyond the door and I made my way to the stairwell. Again Zef urged me to caution but I decided to take a look. Zef stepped back to the door as if to leave, but I urged him to wait just a moment longer. I wanted to just see what was at the bottom of the stairs and then we could report back to the others. I stepped lightly down the stone steps with my candle held aloft.

Suddenly I heard a scuttling sound and felt a sharp pain in my right calf and a blow from something against my left foot. Whatever was down here, there were at least two of them. I screamed in fear and agony and heard Zef mutter something about rogues under his breath. Although frightened and panicked beyond belief, my acrobatic training allowed me to back flip up the steps, but as I reached the top of the steps a burning sensation filled my leg and I had to slow down. Somehow, the candle had not gone out and this gave Zef just enough light to skewer one of the denizens of the crypt with a perfectly aimed shot. Firing wildly I was also able to hit the other creature, but the bolt only grazed its carapace. Zef shouted for me to get out whilst he covered, so I did not hesitate. I reached the door just as the other giant centipede, for that is what these nightmares were, scuttled towards me. I tried to slam it in the door but it managed to bite me again before heading off towards easier prey in the darkness. My rapidly numbing legs carried me across the room with the gargoyles and half-way up the stairs before I realised I had left Zef totally in the dark. I readied my crossbow for another shot and placed the candle in a position so that as much of the room was lit as possible considering the limited light source. Whilst I was attempting this all I could hear were curses and the crash of steel on stone as Zef tried to fight the monster. Eventually Zef found his way out through the other door and dazedly made his way across the room towards me and the exit, with the centipede in pursuit. I fired my crossbow, but the bolt merely glanced off the floor beside the vermin. Another shot from me and a stroke of Zef’s sword put enough distance between us and the scuttling denizen that we were able to help each other up the steps to the entrance and out into the fresh night air. We slammed the door of the crypt shut and put our backs to it to prevent the critter from getting out. Zef looked about to collapse, and the poison coursing through my veins left me on the point of passing out too, but we managed to put the old lock back onto the door and get out of the graveyard without any further encounters. Unfortunately, we had both dropped our bows in the process, and left two candles burning alongside a steel mirror in the stairwell to the crypt. These items could easily be traced back to us if found.

We helped each other back over the wall and headed back to Kendra’s house, but the deputy spotted us again. He waved us over and asked us what was wrong. We feigned ignorance of our physical conditions and said it was no bother. He waved us on with a perplexed look on his face.

Upon arrival back at the house, we stumbled through the door. The rest of the party were still up discussing what we needed to do so were able to quickly assess the situation. Dukker prayed to his goddess and was able to heal the pair of us, but the poison would take a little longer to get out of our systems. Dukker worked tirelessly through the rest of the night and the following day to make us at ease.

‘V’ for…? (Day 3)

Whilst Dukker healed and generally made Zef and I comfortable after our near death experiences, the rest of the party got to work on the rest of the investigation. Kazimir continued to follow Kendra around like a love sick puppy (perhaps I am being a little harsh on my companion, what with the poison still coursing my veins, and he was following the professor’s request to protect her from harm?) Moebius busied himself in a variety of libraries, including that in Kendra’s house, trying to piece together the clues he had gathered from the professor’s writings. He had made many connections so far but still had a lot of reading to do.

1. There had been necromancers in the region for millennia
2. They formed unholy alliances with undead creatures
3. Tar Barthan (?) was the Whispering Tyrant
4. The Whispering Way was a series of philosophies spread by whispers, thus the name
5. These necromancers could create liches and may eventually be able to release the Tyrant
6. A gagged skull is their symbol

When Zef and I felt a little better we were able to relay our adventure from the night before and join in the conversation, but, on Dukker’s orders, we were both confined to our beds until later that evening.

Towards the end of the day, just before we readied ourselves to sleep, there came a frantic rapping at the door. One of the villagers was in a right state as she blurted out something about some vandalism to a local monument. As Dukker, Zef and I were otherwise engaged and Moebius still had his head in his books, Kazimir agreed to accompany the woman. He was taken to the monument that commemorated those that died in the fire at Harrowstone prison. He later reported back that there was a huge letter ‘V’ written in blood on the monument’s side facing away from the town (the back of the statue). There was also a great splatter of blood at the base of the monument in which Kazimir spotted a human sized footprint. Other than taking a sample of the blood and working out that the vandalism must have occurred between the hours of six and nine that evening Kazamir was unable to achieve anything other than provide alibis for the rest of the party.

Bringing his blood soaked cloth back to the house in the hope of finding clues held within it, Kazimir was dismayed that none of his more learned companions had the skills to investigate the clue any further; even if it was only to find out whether it was blood at all and if so, from which type of animal.

A visit to Grimburrow (Day 4)

After all of the healing carried out by Dukker, a good night’s sleep, and a big bowl of porridge for breakfast, Zef and I felt a lot better. I was still stiff and sore but the poison had run its course. It would still be a few days before I was back to full fitness but Zef seemed to be pretty much OK though; he seems to be a lot tougher than he looks. Kazimir and I decided to head to the town hall to find out any more rumours about the events of the night before whilst Dukker headed towards the temple to ask the permission of Grimburrow to cleanse and rededicate the crypt in the name of their goddess. Moebius carried on with his studies whilst Zef was tasked with guarding Kendra, much to Kazimir’s chagrin.

Kazimir and I had another odd encounter with the children of the village on our way to the town hall. Although they are very friendly and always seem to have a smile for me the songs that they sing whilst skipping and playing seem rather dreary and ominous. I questioned them about this but they replied that these were songs that they were taught by their mothers and grandmothers, and had been around for a few generations. We learned nothing new at the town hall.

Dukker, meanwhile, failed to impress Father Grimburrow and although not strictly forbidden to cleanse the crypt as it was not actually temple property (although the cemetery is) he was discouraged from trying until he had investigated it himself. At which point he sent a couple of his acolytes, armed with maces, to guard the doors.

 

Disappointed with the outcome of our investigations, we decided to try to sell the gem that Moebius had been hanging onto for several days. He was convinced it was worth thousands, and my quick appraisal convinced me of the same, but the jeweller would only offer us fifteen gold coins for it, saying that it was just a flawed (although better than the one in his own collection) rose quartz stone. Neither of us was convinced, so we decided not to sell it.

The Carrion Crown - Part 1

A new week sees the start of a brand new game and campaign. After the AD&D campaign ended last week, I needed to get signed onto another game at the club. There was plenty on offer: Rogue Trader, another AD&D campaign, Conan d20, a couple of Vampire: Dark Age, and Pathfinder. I decided to go for another game I was familiar-ish with, so chose the Pathfinder table (I am familiar with the 3E ruleset, so this was just a small step up). Another great bunch of blokes made me feel really at ease when I joined their table and eased my way into their game. They were on their second session, but the previous week was more of a prologue than part of the actual adventure.

To make for a style difference between these write-ups and the previous AD&D ones, I am writing the adventure through the eyes of my character - there will be plenty of mistakes, misunderstandings and mishaps to begin with, but these are entirely down to my interpretation and no-one elses. I will correct future entries as my character learns more or has explained to him the errors of his ways.

Session 1: The Funeral (19^th September 2012)

 The Cult of the Whispering Way weaves a wide-ranging conspiracy throughout the horror-tinged lands of Ustalav aimed at freeing the Lich King Tar-Baphon, better known as the Whispering Tyrant, from his eternal prison in the dungeon of Gallowspire. Their debased rites and malicious schemes set werewolf against vampire, ghost against terror from beyond time and space in a thrilling campaign that touches upon themes of classic horror and dark swords and sorcery!

(from the blurb on the Paizo website for The Haunting of Harrowstone)

The Pathfinders

Nicolai Alamrys – Human Rogue

Kazamir - Fighter
Ducat - Cleric
Moebius - ?
Zef - Ranger

I will update this list as I get to learn more about the characters I am playing alongside.

 

From the Diary of Nicolai Alamrys

 

Arrival in Harrowstone (Day 1 of my travels with the Pathfinders)

There is a lot of distrust in this world of ours. Why do people not wish to see goodness in others no matter their differences? Magic, in all of its various forms is frowned upon and seen as the work of evil, when I know it can be used for the powers of good.

I have been travelling from the coast for two days now. It is constantly pouring down, and I am wet through, hungry and footsore. The funeral of my long time acquaintance Professor Lorimar is to take place soon, but it is possible that my long sea journey means that I may have missed the event. The letter I hold in my hand talks of the urgent need for me to be there; his daughter has some important news to be relayed to me and his other close acquaintances.

On the muddy, rutted road leading to the village I bumped into a band of weary travellers, all intent upon attending the funeral too. We struck up a cheery banter that defied the inclement weather, and I feel we have forged the first links in a strong bond of friendship. We have all arrived with the same purpose, and all wish to see it through as we owe that, at least, to our former mentor, guardian and friend Professor Lorimar.

The shallow valley opened up after a short while to reveal the entrance to the village. A village in which the buildings appear gothic and the leering monuments seem to watch every step one takes. Looking ahead I tried to find a place to get out of the rain, but what caught my attention was the number of poles outside buildings with notices attached; now turned to mush in the incessant rain, they no doubt held exclamations of the utmost import to those that live here. At the far end of what can only be described as the village green a river flows, trying to sweep the small bridge that spans it away from its very foundations.

Two fellows stood guard before the bridge, and from their demeanour I could see they would brook no trouble and only allow those they knew to be trustworthy across the span. The taller of the two, Benjan I think his name was, did all the talking, and very belligerent he was too until we all showed our letters from the Professor’s daughter that granted our access to the further reaches of the village.

We passed across the bridge and headed towards the house of our late friend under the directions of the two guardians. We rapped upon the door and the portal was opened by Kendra, the late professor’s daughter. After introducing ourselves and showing her the letters we had received, she acknowledged us as friends of the professor, although for some reason she seemed to take my tale of acquaintance with a large grain of salt. After asking us our names, she informed us that the funeral was tomorrow at 10 o’clock, and that we should find ourselves some accommodation until then; The Laughing Demon being a good enough choice in these parts. She then promptly closed the door leaving us in the rain.

We looked around the rest of the village and found that the inn was not too far distant from the professor’s house, so we made our way there. All except Ducat, who decided to take a trip to the local temple. Unfortunately, Moebius’ mule had nowhere to go as the inn had no stable, so Moebius decided to go look for a stable for his noble steed whilst the rest of us strode towards warmth and food. A short distance from the inn, we espied a gaggle of young girls playing hop-scotch and singing the most happy of songs. This struck me as odd, but I could not put my finger on the weird feeling I had.

As we slipped in through the door, the owner of the establishment, one Zokar, strode up and in a loud, jovial voice greeted us. He did not allow us to get a word in edgewise but knew our wants and needs intimately. We were ushered to a table and before we knew it had our room booked and a hearty meal ordered. All of the dishes were titled after some grotesquery but they tasted superb, my Corpse Chowder being exquisite. The Ghost Beer, a glowing confection of no light weight, satisfied my thirst and opened a window of curiosity in my mind; a strange concoction that glowed and no-one knew its secret bar the inn keep.

Moebius returned from another inn in the village that had a stable, followed a little while later by Ducat. Moebius mentioned that he was able to stable his mule and the good wife, Soriana, that ran the establishment, tried to get him to change his mind on where we stayed. No doubt this was just a ploy to take Zokar’s custom and our money into the bargain. He said that he declined due to already having paid for our lodgings at The Demon, but was tempted to stay for a while as she had such a sweet singing voice.

The talk of entertainment spurred me into action. I hadn’t tumbled or mummered for a while, so I made some entertainment for the patrons of the bar. It did not go down as well as I hoped, but the coppers thrown, more through disdain than appreciation methinks, more than paid for my meat and beer. Kazamir had rather a lot to drink, and on throwing out time, we had to help him stagger up to his cot. We all chose a bed that suited us, albeit all were just hay stuffed mattresses smelling of mildew. The communal room had enough beds for us all, and there was one tiny, patterned glass window that would not open that let in the only light available to us. Feeling a little unsafe, I bolted the door, and pushed my bed against it in case of night time intruders.

The Day of the Funeral (Day 2)

We all woke early, those of who had had a few drinks feeling a little worse for wear. During their travels to Harrowstone, the other party members had picked up some spare articles that they wished to be rid of; a byrnie of chain mail, a jacket of scale mail and a medium sized steel shield. These were of no use to our party as everyone who needed such implements already had similar or superior ones.

I headed out with Zef to find a blacksmith to whom we could sell said items. It only took a few moments to spot the tell-tale column of smoke and hear the ting, ting-ting of the blacksmith’s art. I casually strode up to the forge and was surprised by the appearance of a lady Dwarf. Putting on my most disarming smile and ramping up the charm, I managed to seal a deal with her that gained the party 75 gold pieces and me a dagger to boot. I can still feel the after-effects of the bone-crushing hand-shake that sealed the deal. I felt strangely drawn to this lady; she seemed to have a good heart.

After our short trading trip we realised we needed to get a move on to make our ten o’clock deadline. The rest of our companions had already walked up the hill and the coffin cart had now arrived. No other villagers were present, so it was down to us, the professor’s friends, to be his pall bearers; the sixth place, the one of honour, was taken by his daughter.

We proceeded along the cemetery path towards the grave, but before we got to the mausoleum beside the split in the path that would take us to the grave we were accosted by a large mob of angry villagers. They were proclaiming that it was not right that the professor was to be buried on consecrated ground and that another grave up the hill would be a more suitable location. Their spokesman ranted about necromancers deserved to be buried without ceremony and left to rot away from those more civilised; one never knows if they may wake from their eternal sleep and bring the rest of the graveyard with them to the land of the living.

Kendra obviously felt this was unjust and decried that she had paid for the plot and the professor deserved to be buried in the cemetery. Tempers flared and the leader of the mob approached us in a menacing manner, pitchfork raised to strike. Kendra and the rest of us quickly realised things were getting out of hand, so we gently lowered the coffin and prepared ourselves for a confrontation. The mob leader struck Zef with his pitchfork, causing a large bruise to be raised upon his chest, but Kazamir stopped further damage by tripping the mob leader with the long handle of his glaive. This caused the rest of the mob to rush forward in a menacing manner, but I made placating noises and tried to calm the situation. The leader of the mob saw the error of his ways and decided to leave us be, for the time being, threatening that we hadn’t heard the last of this. The angry mob quickly faded into the mists beyond the gravestones.

Father Grimburrow apologised to us on behalf of the mob when we got to the graveside; he had seen the whole event unfurl from his vantage point. The ceremony went without any further glitches, and we all said a piece. I was overcome with emotion and shed a few tears, but again this seemed to cause Kendra some level of mistrust in my motives. That aside, we were all invited back to the professor’s house for his wake.

Upon arrival, we were all given a bowl of thin broth and asked to wait around whilst the last will and testament of Professor Lorimar was read out. The local councillor and three of his helpers were present to make sure the will was read out in accordance with protocol. The will was produced but as the seal was broken, a key dropped from the scroll. I tried to pocket it but I was spotted, so I presented it to the councillor who just left it on the table whilst he read out the will. All of the professor’s property was to go to Kendra except for the contents of a small ironbound oaken box. The box was produced and, his job completed, the councillor left the premises.

I grabbed the key from the table and found that it fitted the lock on the box perfectly. Inside were four tomes and some additional parchment detailing that if we could stay with his daughter for the next month to help her settle, and then deliver the four tomes to the addressees we would each be rewarded with 100 platinum coins each – a small fortune! The rest of the book was taken up with several diary entries that were confusing and strange to say the least. I was more than happy to stay around for the month as my fortunes were running low and the promise of such a sum upon delivery of the four tomes in Lepistadt seemed too good to be true. I pinched myself and agreed when the rest of my companions nodded their assent to be bound by the last words of our benefactor.