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Nicholai
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(Music)

Professor Petros Lorrimor was dead, and the world is a darker place for his passing.

The old sage had been a friend of justice, a foe of evil, a mentor, a teacher, a friend, and a good man.  He retired to the quiet and seclusion of Ravengro, a small farming community to the west of Ustalav.  There, he lived for years, passing from the minds of many.

Though few now would speak his name, it seems clear he remembers you.  A strange missive has found its way to you, informing you of his tragic and untimely demise.  The message indicates that, as part of his will, he has requested you by name, asking that you be present at the funeral and to attend the reading of his will.

The journey was miserable.  Ravengro is a secluded town, and the roads are ill-maintained.  The dark grey skies of Ustalav occasionally spit in your face, threatening to unleash a treacherous storm before you see a sign of civilization.  Before you reach the various farms surrounding Ravengro, you can see a ruined fortress towering on a hill in the distance - the clearest landmark of Ravengro.  You will make it before nightfall - just in time for the funeral.

 

The road becomes easier to traverse as you get father within the town.  The streets are deserted as the cold wind of the coming storm harshly punishes ill-prepared travellers.  Even with no people in the streets, you are drawing stares from the locals.  From the inside of their homes, you can see them peeking through the windows, with mixes of curious looks and disapproving scowls upon their faces.  The few children left to play outside before the storm hits in earnest point at you as they murmur to their parents before being quickly ushered into their homes.

It is clear you will not receive help with directions in this town.  You are alone.

Fortunately, finding your way is not difficult.  Across a small but well-maintained bridge, at the north-western part of town, the Temple of Pharasma is easily one of the largest buildings in town.  There, a disappointingly small number of people are gathered at the entrance, surrounding a simple but well-made coffin, sitting upon two temporary supports, waiting to be transported.

All the people have a somber look upon their face, and many of them fidget impatiently at the gathering.  As thunder booms in the background, it's hard to blame anyone for their eagerness to get inside.

Finkswitch
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"Looks like this is the

"Looks like this is the place, Lute!" quips Oboe, his cheerful tone oddly out of place. "Man, I loved that rain and the people here... It's so dark and forboding... I bet there's all kinds of things to discover around here! This is going to be the BEST FUNERAL EVER!!!!!"

Darlain
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Lute dismounts her Eidolon, a

Lute dismounts her Eidolon, a creature with the body of a lizard and the head of a serpent. Scoodles always wore a bored expression, and kept it as Lute made her latest demands known to him. "Stay here Scoods, folks tend to think you're a little freaky and stuff."  Scoodles merely sighs and nods. She smiles at her brother and begins fixing her vibrant red hair. "You betcha! I'm hoping Prof left me one of his artifacts, I could waste a whole summer figuring out how it works!."

Finkswitch
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Oboe grins widely at his

Oboe grins widely at his little sister. "Oooo! That sounds fun! Maybe he left a demon's skull or something... Or an ancient dragon's heart! Or a trove off mysterious magical magnets!!! Man, this is going to be great."

He walks over to Scoodles and pats him. "You'll behave yourself, right boy? I know you're excited too, I can see it in your eye, you crafty old bugger!"

Nicholai
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The small number of people

The small number of people gathered are an interesting assortment.  Two well-to-do gentlemen wear tailored black suits having a private discussion in somber tones.  A much larger, burly gentleman stands closer to a large wooden pole close to the temple, where all manner of different, tattered papers are posted.  The man wears an ill-fitting suit, complete with a large grease stain.  He holds hands with a young teenaged boy, bearing a clear family resemblance, with a look of young misery upon his face.

Either than the three men and the boy, two young women stand closest to the coffin, also sharing a conversation.  The first is a Serious-looking woman wears practical clothing more suited for work than for a funeral.  She wipes her spectacles clear of the annoying droplets of rain that sputter now and then.

The second lady is quite the contrast.  Although she wears conservative clothing, her trim attire compliments her attractive features.  Her hair done up into a very well-maintained bun, her careful, conservative use of makeup, and her cleanliness, despite the presence of muddy roads, are all testamonies to the amount of care she took into keeping up a proper appearance.

And yet, no amount of preparation can hide the puffy red eyes and the streaks left from the tears she has shed today.  It does not take a trained eye to see that she has suffered much as of late.

She is the first person to look towards you, though the odd appearance of an eidolon inevitably attracts the looks of everyone.  Everyone appears quite perplexed, but the lady smiles in a welcoming gesture.

Finkswitch
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Oboe puts on his best

Oboe puts on his best "somber" face and goes up to everyone one at a time and introduces himself, the crying lady last.

"Oboe Cowbell at your service, ma'am." he begins. "I'm so sorry for your lost. The Professor was a great man, he will be missed. If there's anything I or my sister can do to help, please, let us know."

As he looks around, he prestidigitates the grease stain out of the man's suit, and does the same to clean the mud off himself and Lute.

Darlain
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Scoodles replies to Oboe,

Scoodles replies to Oboe, dripping in sarcasm "Oh yes, i'm beside myself in joy at the thought of Master Lute getting a new toy."

Lute slaps him on the haunch playfully, "Thats the spirit, Scoods!" eliciting another sigh from the Eidolon.

She sees the lovely lady, and follows her brother's lead in putting on her best somber human face. "Yeah, Prof taught me a lot of things over the years, never quite new why he took to me, but he was a good man. Most folks overlooked lil' old Lute."

Drogar
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Orin Longstrider scowls as he

Orin Longstrider scowls as he approaches the temple.  Despite his circumstances, he's not a fan of towns, particularily towns filled with pathetic townsfolk who know of nothing outside their own tiny experience. Had it been any other name on the missive that had summoned him, he'd likely have ignored it, continued on to the next settlement looking for work.

But it had been Professor Lorrimor's name. Orin owed the old man much, not the least of which was his life, and his capacity to speak and read in the common tongue of the civilized lands. Lorrimor was unique among the civlized, in that he was truly worthy of respect, and Orin knew that in this culture, spending time honoring the dead was their way. Out of respect, he would do the same.

Walking up to the temple, he notices the gnomes and their beast. Scowling at this obvious fowl magic, he crosses his mightily muscled arms, stands straight to his full six foot three, shifts the greatsword strapped to his back, and speaks in a strong, commanding voice.

"Your demon is in my path. Remove it, or I shall."

Firie
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Entrance

It's probably not initially apparent what the peasant girl is doing, hanging around the doorway.  She's not one of the people trying to rush inside.  For one thing, it doesn't look like she's eager to get in front of a group of people who are trying to push their way inside - she doesn't look like she could stand to be jostled around much.  She's content to wait until the bulk of the crowd has filed in on their own, before she attempts entry herself.

The commotion building at the door does catch her interest, and she cants her head to listen.  Demon?  Gruff-sounding large person?  This warrents further attention.  She'll stay far enough back that if things start getting hit she won't be one of them, and peers at them from a safe distance, trying to make out what's going on.

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You would think a fellow who

You would think a fellow who travels for living might learn to be on time.

You'd think wrong, if you're thinking of Banakil.

Having barely recieved his letter directing him here, Banakil was forced to travel the opposite direction he'd planned on...not that it matters much when your life goal seems to be to travel as far as you can. Having arrived in town not even an hour before, the halfling managed to get lost as well, something he never, ever would admit to.

He strolls up in a rush, trying to keep his garments out of the mud till at least the end of the ceramony. Seeing the group standing out front, he moves to take a closer look, eyes taking in a creature, two gnomes, and a large angry looking man. He shakes his head, crossing his arms and waiting to see if violence explodes, or if the large animal is just something the professor insisted on taking along with him on his last journey.

Darlain
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Lute shifts her attention

Lute shifts her attention away from the grieving lady to shout back at Scoodles, "better move it, Scoods, you don't want to get chopped up like the last town!"
The Eidolon stares at the stranger, narrowing his eyes, then with a flick of his tongue, abides his master and moves further away to the side.

Lute turns back to the woman, "sorry about that, miss. My Eidolon tends to draw attention."

Nicholai
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The lady swallows her sorrow

The lady swallows her sorrow and smiles at the two gnomes.  "Thank you both for your condolences.  And thank you so much for heeding my father's summons.  The instructions he left indicated four others... ah."

As others begin to arrive, she nods in acknowledgement, a little flustered by the sudden tension in the air when the large wild man speaks.  Still, she keeps her calm and addresses everyone who is clearly not a local to Ravengro.  "Welcome to you all.  Please, come in peace."

 

Kendra Lorrimor

 

 

"My name is Kendra Lorrimor.  I'm honored to meet you all.  My father would have been happy to know you came."

Mentioning her father, Kendra chokes a bit.

The other people are quiet, and are visibly nervous at your approach - especially the two well-dressed gentlemen that were speaking to eachother only moments ago.  The exception is the large man with an ill-fitting suit, who's boy has pointed out that the grease stain has suddenly disappeared.  Having been distracted earlier by the appearance of Scoodles and the energetic gnomish introduction, he did not notice the magical workings upon his clothes.  He scratches his head, puzzled.

Drogar
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"I am Orin. The honor is

"I am Orin. The honor is mine, having known your father in battle and in peace. His spirit surely hunts upon the unending plains with the other honored dead."

Henii
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"Professor Petros Lorrimor

"Professor Petros Lorrimor will be greatly missed; the world was lessened by his passing." Ariam says in a clear, even tone, as she climbs the Temple steps. She gives the grieving daughter a sympathetic smile before bending in a deep bow, "It was an honor to know you father, even in his youth her was greater the most, I'm certain that he has found a place wonder and joy in the hereafter due to his deeds."

Straightening up she stands tall, an almost stark contrast to the gloomy surroundings brought forward by Ravengro and the approaching storm. Her armor bears the markings of a paladin in the service of Iomedae and the faint glow of her skin marks her as something more.

"If there is anything you need, Ariam of Vigil, is at your service."

How would it end
If the truth was re-writable
Break with past
Whatever dreams you long for
I've seen what the future has in mind for me

Firie
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Approach

 

CeeRee perks up when she hears Kendra mention that six people were summoned.  Interesting enough on its own, but it probably also means that whatever reason the professor called her here, she's probably not in this on her own.  Or, at the very least, she won't be the worst one off.  Someone's gonna get it worse than she's about to, and that alone is enough to reassure her at least a little.


The frail girl peers back and forth, trying to pick out the others that Kendra was referring to.  The people with the demon, probably, but she can't see them from here - plus, going to meet a demon is going to take a little building up to.  She can see the angry guy, but she's not gonna just walk right up to that one, either.  Anyone willing to pick a fight with a demon on sight gets a little more space than usual.  But a paladin?  That inspires a little more confidence.

 

Ariam probably notices her approach.  She’s not trying to be subtle, after all, and she’s picking her way along carefully.  The peasant girl is wearing a loose baggy tunic with a number of pouches and pockets hanging from a wide leather belt, and she has scarf wrapped around her neck and shoulders.  She’s obviously under-nourished for her age, and just as obviously near-blind from the washed-out color of her eyes.  When she gets close to the paladin, she’ll stop and look up, in at least the general direction of Ariam’s face.  “You were summoned too?”

 

Rastila
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Banakil steps up, his face

Banakil steps up, his face solemn. "The professor was a great man, and his loss saddens us all. Isn't that why we came? To pay our respects, this one last time." He gives a gentle smile to the woman, then gazes over the other family members present.

"You say six were summoned, and appears we have that number. Perhaps we can continue in for the service?" he says, placing a gentle hand on the frail young girl's arm in a comforting gesture.

Henii
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Araim's heart breaks as she

Araim's heart breaks as she looks over the young girl adressing her. Easing herself down to one knee, her motions slow and careful in an attempt to keep from startleing her, "I was indeed, child. I knew him years and years ago but lost touch with him. Would you care for something to eat? All I have in my person is some trail rations but perhaps when the service is over we can see about getting you a real meal. How does that sound?

She smiles gently as she pats a pouch at her belt causing it to jostle and send the smells of dried fruits and nuts wafts out. "I'm Ariam, whats your name?" 

How would it end
If the truth was re-writable
Break with past
Whatever dreams you long for
I've seen what the future has in mind for me

Firie
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Introduction

CeeRee skitters directly sideways, Banakil’s hand landing on open air as the girl deftly ducks around to Araim’s other side.  She squints skeptically u- .. no, down …  huh, that’s different…  at the Halfling, peering intently around the paladin to look at him.  After a moment she seems to determine that he’s safe, and looks back up at Araim again.

 

She cants her head and watches curiously as Ariam kneels, listening, and she perks up at being addressed.  “My friends call me CeeRee.  The professor saved my village when I was little.  They didn’t want me to go, but I knew he was going to ask.  I couldn’t stay home.”  She gets a serious expression, pausing for a moment.  “They all think it was a plague, but it wasn’t.  Things were stealing lives, and he stopped them.  They don’t understand what he did for us.  I had to come.”  The girl blinks, then grins brightly.  “No dried fruit please, I’ve been eating that for days.  If you can show me where to get a meal it’d be a lot of help!”

Nicholai
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"I'm terribly sorry to

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt."

Having regained his composure, one of the gentlemen in a fine suit - the larger of the two.  His usual facade of unshakable, disdainful boredom resumes upon his face.

Hearthmount

"Vashian Hearthmount.  Councilman Vashian Hearthmount, how do you do?"

The well-to-do gentleman Hearthmount doesn't wait for a reply before continuing, "We're not heading inside the temple at all.  The good priest Grimburrow has elected to have an outdoor service, despite the dreadful weather.  A priest and his rites can't be wrong, afterall."

 

The councilman chuckles at his own joke before continuing.  "As strangers to town, I'm certain you're not terribly familiar with our customs.  No, indeed.  We'll be heading north to the Restlands in order to perform the service right at the burial site.  In fact, I had suggested we move the procession right along to avoid the worst of the weather, despite the absence of a straggler or two.  However, our dear Miss Lorrimor insisted that the honour of pall bearering should be left in the hands of our... distinguished, invited guests.  Of course, I don't think she took the... vertical challenge this might pose into the equation."

Councilman Hearthmount eyes the shorter of the gathered travellers with a raised brow.

Darlain
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Lute eyes the councilman as

Lute eyes the councilman as he speaks, nodding her head at the assessment. Yeah that could be a problem, I suppose. If it doesn't cause a scene, Scoodles could do the lifting for me." She suggests, gesturing to her eidolon, who responds with a sigh.
"Just a suggestion, though, I know people tend to call him demon around these parts."

Drogar
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Orin

"Very well then, let us go." Orin moves to position to assist in bearing the coffin.

Rastila
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Banakil steps up with the

Banakil steps up with the large wild man, flexing his hands. "Maybe if the tall ones carry it low, us height challenged folks can carry over our heads?"

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CeeRee sniffs in the

CeeRee sniffs in the Councilman's direction.  "Dunno about them, but don't worry about me.  I can carry my own weigh well enough."

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"Well... Umm... I'm not sure

"Well... Umm... I'm not sure if I can really help, but I'll do what I can!" quips Oboe, looking dubiously at the coffin.

Henii
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Ariam laughs softly as she

Ariam laughs softly as she stands, "Soon, we will get your a proper meal." She smiles at CeeRee before moving to take her spot beside the coffin, "Perhaps Orin shall take the front, myself at the rear, with our smaller companions doing what they can in the middle?"

How would it end
If the truth was re-writable
Break with past
Whatever dreams you long for
I've seen what the future has in mind for me

Darlain
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"Scoodles, you take up the

"Scoodles, you take up the front with the big guy there!" Lute snaps her fingers and points towards the coffin. "Very well..." it says with a tinge of boredom in its voice and moves to bite down on one of the handholds.

"Might be easier to carry if you guys aren't bending down, miss, but I dont mind helping."

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"STOP!" The doors to the

"STOP!"

The doors to the temple are thrown open by a blond half-elf.

"We can not let such a-" the half-elf ponders for a moment as he walks towards the coffin "-a BEAST such as that to eat the dear Professor Petros Lorrimor! Or any Beast for that matter! Not so long as I, FABISSIMO am around. If need be, Fabissimo will be a pall bearer."

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The halfling frowns, "Forgive

The halfling frowns, "Forgive me sir, but I'm sure the...ah, large creature, would not eat the professors remains."

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"Is it not a monster? Did it

"Is it not a monster? Did it not attempt to take a bite? FABISSIMO saw all this, and Fabissimo is sure what ever the creature was going to do, it would not be respectable!"

Darlain
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Lute sighs and waves Scoodles

Lute sighs and waves Scoodles away. "Suit yourself, I'm used to it! " She exclaimed with an unusually cheery tone, despite all the commotion.

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Councilman Hearthmount, more

Councilman Hearthmount, more than a little peturbed at the prospect of an eidolon being a pall bearer, frowns.

 

"Is it settled, then?  I'd very much like to get out of this foreboding weather.